Page 44 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

We are all herded out of the area. Although it seems like forever, the fire is put out in just a few minutes, and the fuss dies down. A quick glance back to the main deck reveals Matteo busy ordering people around, yelling instructions and masterfully trying to contain the crowds of revellers keen to get back to partying. He seems annoyed at the rumpus we have caused.

My face is aflame with embarrassment.

‘What about my shoe?’ Tash asks.

‘Exactly. Where there’s blame there’s a claim!’ agrees Cherry. ‘I think I’m a little traumatised by this. PTSD, it’s called. I’ll sue whoever is in charge. I’m not a paralegal for nothing.’

Just as I’m hoping Matteo can’t hear her, his head spins around to give us all a withering look.

‘Let’s give him some space,’ I suggest, shepherding the girls further outside onto the deck.

There’s much moaning about stilettos being caught in the decking as we are joined by a throng of partygoers also being herded outside.

‘And what about the free bubbles?’ Tash wails. ‘Do you think they’ll bring the drinks out to us?’

Hundreds of people pour out of the entrance, bumping against us in their hurry to evacuate, pinning us to the railings. I hear a shriek come from the middle of our group, followed by a huge splash.

‘What was that?’ I ask.

There’s a faint gurgling sound as we peer over the side of the gangplank into the water six feet below. A bread bun pops to the surface followed by a handbag.

Jesus Christ.

‘Head count!’ booms Big Sue, towering above us to take charge. ‘Head count right now!’

The girls start to bicker about who it might be and whose fault it was.

‘Wait. Where’s Cherry?’ Big Mand yells.

‘Quick! What’s the Spanish for lifeguard?’ Big Sue bellows.

They all turn to stare at me.

Shite!

‘Lifeguard! Spanish!Think, Connie, think!’ yells Big Sue.

‘It’s, erm… well, erm…’

It’s no use. My mind is a complete blank.

‘Use your A level Spanish, hun! Your A level Spanish!’

Oh my fucking word.

‘You’ve done nothing but go on and on about it since we got here!’

I have no idea. My mind is blank.I cast my eyes about to see if there are any lifeguards around, but all I see is the crowd chatting and vaping without a clue that one of the Dollz has fallen overboard. Without thinking, I kick off my shoes, hop up onto the railing and jump in.

I free-fall for what seems like an eternity before I crash into the sea, plunging down just like the cliff diving yesterday but with none of the fun. I sputter to the surface to get my bearings.

‘Here, Connie!’ screams Tash, frantically grabbing at a nearby arch of golden balloons. She rips a bunch of them away and thrusts them down to me. ‘Catch!’

We watch them bob around on the breeze, before they fly efficiently away, up, up, up into the night sky. Undeterred, she spins around. The Dollz, following her lead, immediately leap into action, scooping up anything close at hand that might help – some flippers, a champagne flute, a tray of canapés and someone’s beach towel. Tash throws them all down to me while a crowd of expectant faces leans over the handrail to watch them float away before disappearing beneath the water.

Pointless. Utterly pointless.

Thanks to my cliff diving, I’ve become something of a Navy SEAL, and I dive under. The water is much darker and colder away from the lights of the yacht. I resurface to gasp some air and dive back under. I can’t see a thing. On my next go, I glance about.

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