Page 12 of Hot to Go

Lucy cackles as Beth chokes on her drink. ‘Her cracks? Grace, you filthymare.’

Grace tries to look unimpressed without breaking into a smile.

Has the thought crossed my mind? The last four months have sometimes felt like some strange fever dream but sex and love has been lacking. So much so that there have been times where I have thought about jumping on Tinder, opening myself up again to the possibility of love. Is my fragile heart ready though? Maybe the safer option is daytime drinking, lying on a sun lounger, taking in all that vitamin D and admiring my tan lines each evening in the mirror.

Lucy continues. ‘One thing at a time. We don’t have to find you a boyfriend yet. Just lose yourself in…’

‘Wanger?’ I reply.

‘Orgasms, intimacy with someone who’s not a tosspot.’ Lucy grabs on to my arm and rests her head on my shoulder. ‘It’s a holiday, Suze. A chance for regeneration, to find your mojo again. All that sun and heat, just lap it all up – let loose, go wild.’

‘You make her sound like a farmyard animal on the rampage,’ Beth tells her.

‘A stroke and a pet, it’s all you need,’ Meg adds dryly, as we all laugh over our collective drinks.

‘Ooh, we could all do yoni sunning?’ Grace, Beth and Meg look curiously at Lucy. It’s clear she’s relishing the chance to have her sisters all to herself, without kids and partners tagging along. In the WhatsApp trip chat, all her planned suggestions included everything from quad biking to matching tattoos to a fire-eating workshop in the mountains.

‘Explain,’ Meg says curtly.

‘We get our vags out for a sunbathe. It’s good for you, gets all that light on the labia, it boosts hormone production and energy.’

I laugh under my breath whilst the sisters look on at her, unimpressed.

‘No,’ Meg says, firmly.

‘Are you worried you can’t find yours?’ Lucy asks, cocking her head to one side. Meg shakes her head at the absolute cheek of it all. ‘It would be a moment of releasing all our feminine energy and power into the world. Look at me, World, I’m forty.’

‘I can just say that aloud. I don’t need to have my legs akimbo and minge to the sun to prove that,’ Meg argues. Grace and Beth lean on each other to control their laughter. ‘There’s no sunscreen factor strong enough for that. I don’t want a burnt taco on holiday.’

‘Who’s burnt their tacos?’ Emma says returning to the table, curiously. ‘Who orders tacos at five in the morning?’

Grace is crying with laughter at this point.

‘Oh no, Luce wants us to sun our lady bits on holiday so we can bond,’ Meg tells her.

Emma stares at Lucy and then walks away again.

‘It’s your sacred space. You all need to recharge it, reconnect with your life force,’ she lectures us. Grace and Beth stare at each other, eyes rolling to hear Lucy start to go all new-age on them. Lucy is just a freer spirit, she’s pierced and tattooed and has never settled down, her focus simply on loving herself, her journey in life. We could all learn something from her. ‘I just want you to use this space to let go a little.’

‘I was planning to do that via cheap wine,’ Meg informs us.

‘But just…this holiday, don’t do that thing where you walk around in a bloody one-piece swimming costume, worried about what you look like. Rule one. No fucking kaftans.’

‘I like a kaftan,’ Beth says.

‘No, you hide under kaftans, sarongs, sundresses. Beach cover-ups? Have you noticed, they don’t have those for men? Men never have to cover up. They can let their bowling ball paunches and hairy cracks hang out for the world to see but women are never allowed the same luxury. They tell us we have to hide.’ This is the Lucy we all know and love – the little sisterpowerhouse energy. ‘You’re all fucking beautiful. You’ve given me nieces and nephews, used your bodies in the most marvellous ways, you’ve all endured so much. And for god’s sake, we’re in a villa. There’ll be no one about. So please, get your tits, your yonis, all your bits out. Get the sun on them. That’s rule two.’

‘And are you going to help me put aftersun down there when I burn and it goes all pink and crisp like bacon?’ Meg asks, grinning because behind Lucy’s forthright ranting, there is only love and wanting to raise us all up.

‘Always. I’ll buy cucumbers and we’ll stick them in the freezer,’ Lucy tells her. ‘I’ll get a big one for you, I know you like girth.’

Meg flares her nostrils trying not to laugh. ‘Well, maybe we’ll trade that for the night trip you have planned to Shagaluf, I don’t mind saying that I really am too old for that shit.’

‘We can negotiate,’ Lucy says, mischief still dancing in her eyes as she winks at me.

I laugh to myself because looking at all this family, all this banter, all this shared history in front of me tells me this holiday may be exactly what I need.

And with that, a waiter appears at our table.

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