Page 46 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

‘All that smoke has put us in the mood for some barbequed chicken,’ says Big Mand. ‘Fancy something to eat?’

I take a beat to eye each of them in turn. They were unbelievably late for their headline performance. They almost set fire to a yacht worth millions. Cherry almost drowned in front of our eyes. How can they contemplate leaving the scene of the crime like this?

I glance back, but I can’t see Matteo anywhere. I run my hands down my wet dress and pick off the kelp stuck to my filthy, streaked legs.

‘Sure, why not?’

Once we get to the beach on the north side of the Old Town, it takes us only twenty minutes to walk its full length with our dresses hitched up and our shoes clenched in each hand. The twinkling lights of the beach bars light our way back up on to the promenade and we cross the road in bare feet. As I walk along, I think about Matteo. I only met him a few days ago, and already I feel like we have shared a whole relationship on the one hand, but that he is still a complete stranger to me on the other.

My heart sinks. I can’t believe this is how my holiday romance ends. As quickly as it began. With me spoiling it and embarrassing him. He’ll want nothing to do with me after this.

‘Hopefully it’ll blow over, and Nancy won’t get to hear of it,’ says Big Sue. ‘We’ll all be for the chop if she does.’

‘Ooh, look,’ says Liberty. ‘We’re trending on Twitter.’

16

It’s the following morning, and quite honestly, it hasn’t been the ideal start to the day I was hoping for. We all awoke to a text from Nancy. I swim up and down the pool mulling over the shambles of the previous evening and how we are going to explain it to her. She wants to speak to us all later today because she is still too angry to speak to us this morning. The Dollz are lounging on the sunbeds. They have been unusually sheepish.

‘I think the real problem was that last cocktail we had while we were getting ready,’ says Big Sue, her eyes closed. ‘It was just that bit too strong.’

‘Hmmm. Yes, you’re right. Who made it?’ says Tash accusingly, without moving a muscle.

‘If it was The Skanky Lady we had in the kitchen, then it definitelywastoo strong because Cherry made it,’ Big Mand says, rubbing her arm. ‘But to be fair, I needed it for the pain.’

‘I genuinely think it was the faulty shoe, Tash. There would have been no fire if the strap had been doing its job properly. As a paralegal, I should know,’ says Cherry confidently, not rising to the bait. ‘We can probably sue whoever makes those Gucci knock-offs in China.’

‘If you ask me…’ begins Liberty.

There’s a collective groan.

‘Well, excuse me for having a PhD,’ she continues. ‘But the real issue here is our deep-rooted desire for validation. Our crippling need to hear people clapping every single thing we do. We obviously need a major overhaul of our belief system if all it’s built on is praise.’

‘She’s right,’ says Cherry. ‘It’s like my marriage counsellor says. We need to revisit our shared values regularly, otherwise I find I’m nagging Tony so much that he doesn’t know which nags to focus on.’

We all murmur agreement as this creates much discussion with words like ‘changing mindsets’, ‘managing partners’ and ‘life goals’ being bandied about. I hear Tash, a university lecturer, suggest they do some revisioning so they can hone their act to achieve their ambitions.

‘I hate to say it,’ adds Big Sue, ‘but maybe we need to take this little side hustle of ours more seriously. Take this hobby to the next level?’

I rest at the side of the pool, flabbergasted at what I’m hearing. All of the girls have careers. Like, proper careers. They are probably even a bit younger than me, and they all have their shit together. Singing is only their hobby, an excuse for them to be together and enjoy each other’s company, and they’re better at it than me, who has been slogging away professionally for years. I clamber out of the pool. If I was depressed before, then I’m totally and utterly floored by their revelations.

‘What do you think, Connie?’ Tash asks. ‘You’ve been doing this for an extraordinarily long time, and yet you still seem incredibly focused. Is this a sideline for you too? What’s your actual job?’

Is this a trick question?

‘I… I don’t have another job. This is it. I have to impress Nancy enough to trust me again while I’m waiting for my big break. I guess I just want to sing for the Royal Northern Sinfonia and then perhaps the London Philharmonic and take it from there?’

‘Why?’ asks Liberty.

I’m incredibly shaken by this very simple and straightforward question. A blast of grief surges through me. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ I say, forcing a bright smile. ‘My mother was a classical singer with the Philharmonic. It’s what she would have wanted for me too.’

‘So how come you’re not singing with them? You sound good enough to me.’

‘Too technical. Not enough… I don’t know, not enough emotion or sparkle, I guess.’

‘How many times have you tried to get in?’

I’m not revealing that.

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