Page 33 of Hot to Go

‘And what brings you to Magaluf, Max?’

‘I’m getting married and this is my stag do.’

The whole restaurant explodes into cheers as the fellowstags make unfortunate rutting noises. I can’t help but smile and get caught up in it.

‘Ready to ride, Cowboy Max?’ the voice asks.

‘YEE-HAW!’ he yells, as he heads over to the mechanical bull to the middle of the restaurant. Stella, his stablehand, has a water gun in her hands and fires something into his mouth. I am going to hazard a guess that is not water. Max takes a long shot and then punches the air. The stags all get out their phones as he straddles the massive creature and it slowly starts to rotate. I laugh to see him so ridiculously excited but really wish he was wearing a long trouser.

The DJ starts to play ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe’ (there wasn’t really an alternative) and the restaurant start to clap and cheer along. ‘A reminder today that if Max can hold on for at least two minutes then we will pay for his dinner tonight. Can we maybe speed that baby up?’

There’s a look on Max’s face that I’ve not seen since he was a kid when he’d be on a bike going down a hill very, very fast. The bull starts to swivel and buck in a number of different directions but the lad can hold on. That comes from years of me being his brother, times when I’ve pushed him down hills on makeshift sleds. I look on as the stags clap for him.

‘COME ON, MAX!’

‘YOU ABSOLUTE UNIT!’

But I look down at my watch. Surely it’s been two minutes already? Why is it spinning so quickly? Hold up. Max, I think you should let go now.

‘MAX! LET GO!’ I yell but he sits gripping on for dear life.

‘Shit,’ a voice booms out from the DJ booth. ‘Can someone get Diego? I think it’s broken again.’

Panic fills my face. The bull is broken? My little brother is on it. Could it explode? I have to bring this boy home to his fiancée.

‘MAX! JUST LET GO!’ I yell, but he doesn’t listen. In fact,he clings to the thing for dear life like a bear cub. I’ll personally pay for the dinner if we have to. I clamber past some of the crowd watching, past a table where everyone just stares in horror, clinging on to their drinks. Yes, protect your pints.

‘Sir! ¡Señor! You can’t go on there!’ Stella shouts at me. I push her away, landing on the inflatable cushioning. God, there’s smoke coming out of that thing.

‘MAX! YOU HAVE TO…’

But he does. He lets go, screaming as he does and flies towards me, crashing into me so that we both land on the floor of the restaurant. The room spins, voices fade to nothing until the whole room goes black.

SEVEN

Suzie

‘Are you sure he said eleven? You were there. There wasn’t any way he could have said something else and I misheard because of his accent?’ I ask Lucy, panicked, on the phone. I know it was dark but I am here at the beach where we first met. I’m by the rocks. The beach is a little busier by day but it’s definitely the right place and he’s definitely not here. Maybe he meant the plaza where we shared bunyols? Maybe it was further up where we walked under the stars half naked? I look at the clock on my phone. It’s 11.45am. ‘Unless he meant the nighttime. Spanish people have siestas, don’t they? Maybe his body clock is different? Do you think he’s OK? Maybe he crashed his moped?’

Lucy can hear the panic in my voice. ‘Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.’

Because this was always going to be the other option. He was just some man I met who scored his shot and that was always going to be it. On an island like Mallorca, in the summer season, pretty scantily clad women like me are ten-a-penny and he’s probably moved on to someone else. I’m just part of a bodycount. What an awful phrase. I hope he hasn’t given me anything. It’s probably why we never traded numbers or last names. I thought it added an air of mystery and spontaneity to proceedings but maybe it was his way of putting some space there so I couldn’t track him down. As memorable as it was, perhaps it was always destined to just be a one-off thing.

The heat bears down on me now, my shoulders singeing slightly from having stood here for forty-five minutes, waiting and hoping, in a little yellow sundress with a swimming costume underneath. God, I even re-shaved. I let myself imagine scenarios where I was on his moped, holding on to him tightly, scooting past cliffs and beaches to the themes of a softly melodic cinema soundtrack. I’m a bit of an idiot for thinking that far ahead. I really am. I kick off my shoes and dip my feet in the foam of the tide, watching as my toes sink and the water buries my feet. This beach is busier now, filled with sun worshippers, families with kids building sandcastles; there are sun shades covered in browning palms and the sand is bright, almost white. There are people jet skiing, screaming with glee, the waters crystal clear, smaller islets and the surrounding mountains in view. It’s not the calm, dimly lit oasis of our first meeting, but the coolness of the water, the sand under my feet feels soothing at least.

‘I’m by the pool but I can come down there now? We can go for a drink? For lunch?’ Lucy asks.

‘No, don’t do that. It’s Meg’s birthday dinner tonight. I feel bad enough being away. I’m just having a mini dip and then I’ll come back. Do you guys need anything in town?’ I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.

‘We’re good here. Oh, maybe some boxes if you can find them though so we can transport food and stuff. Danny has been in touch with the agent and they’re going to move us to another villa. He’s seen pics of this one this time.’

I smile. It may be exactly what I need. Then I won’t have tosit in that place for the rest of the week re-living every place Carlos and I had sex, feeling like a fool. Feeling gutted.

‘Just come back when you’re ready…and Suze?’

‘Yeah…’

‘I had a feeling about him. I thought he was different. I’m sorry. Screw him and his complete lack of manners. Actually, screw men. Come back here and you can have an hour alone in one of the sex rooms. I won’t judge.’

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