Page 27 of One Bed

‘It’s a beautiful night,’ she said, tipping her head back to look at the stars.

‘It is,’ Bea agreed. The waiters and bar staff buzzed around them, collecting glasses and plates of half-eaten food. Most of the platters were empty, and she was grateful. Her imaginary gang of five lived on the poverty line and throwing away food, in real life and in fiction, annoyed her.

‘Good job on estimating how much food we needed, Cass.’

‘Thanks. But, to be honest, I told Nadia to under-cater because, unlike other places where we work, I wasn’t able to find an organisation to take the leftover food.’

And there was another reason why she liked this woman so much. Bea sent her a sideways glance and nibbled the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t good at putting herself out there, but would Cass think it weird if she asked whether she and Nadia would be keen to grab a coffee, maybe even dinner, when they returned to London? She wrinkled her nose. No, she was being silly. Why would they?

They probably had an active social life, and as they often travelled, they probably liked to spend their London time catching up with friends and chilling. It was easier to not ask than to risk being rejected.

Rejection, in any form, sucked.

Bea picked up her margarita and sipped, enjoying the tart liquid sliding over her tongue and down her throat. ‘Where’s Nadia?’ she asked.

‘She went to bed ages ago,’ Cass replied. ‘She’s an introvert and would far prefer to have her nose in a book than talk to strangers.’

‘Me, too!’ Bea fervently agreed.

The waitstaff called out cheerful goodnights and Cassie laughingly refused their offer to join them at a club in Fira. ‘I used to work late, then only go out clubbing around midnight or one. Now all I want to do is drink my drink, and amble down the hill and snuggle up to my wife,’ she said.

Even when she and Gerry were younger, Bea had never spent much time partying into the early hours of the morning. Before she was published, she worked at a sports goods shop during the day and wrote at night. Gerry spent a good part of the money she earned on music and acting lessons and class A drugs, assuring her his big break was just around the corner.

Bea took another huge gulp of her drink. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to think about the past and yet here she was, allowing the memories to slide on in. Now wasn’t the time to look back. For the next ten days or so, she was going to live in the present, and not worry about the future. She was going to celebrate Golly’s birthday, not think about her retirement, while also trying to keep this weekend from descending into chaos.

Cassie nudged her and nodded at Golly who was walking over to them in a not-so-straight line, puffing on her cigarillo. Her sarong had been retied and she looked sex-satisfied. Oh, God. Who had she been snogging or worse? And where? Actually,no. No details required.

Reena, who was lying on the wall, a precarious habit and one nobody could break her of, sat up and narrowed her eyes at her old friend. ‘You are such a tart,’ she stated, rolling her eyes.

Golly blew on her nails and grinned. ‘I’ve still got moves, Reen.’

Bea really didn’t need to know about Golly’s moves, notever. Then Golly picked up her margarita, took a healthy sip and perched on Bea’s thighs.Oomph.

Reena made her way over to them and placed her riding boot on the wall next to Cassie. She rested her forearm on her thigh and looked out to sea. ‘We’re going to miss this when we’re dead, Gols.’

‘We might not, depending on what the next place is like. It might be amazing,’ Golly blithely responded.

‘Or hot.’

Golly ignored Reena’s pithy response. ‘If I go first, I’ll let you lot know I’m still around if I can. I’ll flick some lights, throw some pans, bang on walls.’

Golly was promising to haunt her after she died, par for the course. Reena and Golly started talking about someone’s divorce settlement, and Bea tuned them out.

She was bone-deep tired, emotionally depleted, and she still had to decide where she was sleeping. The idea of sleeping on the half-broken divan made her body ache. She wanted a decent night’s sleep in a decent bed. Preferably after some amazing, ground-shaking, earth-tilting sex.

She hadn’t seen Gib for a while. Where was he, anyway? Had he had enough of being sociable and gone back to the cottage? And if he was still awake when she returned, how awkward would the rest of the evening be? Would he try and talk her out of sleeping on the Bed of Horrors? There was a good chance he’d tell her she was stupid because she’d created the Berlin Wall of pillows between them. She didn’t want another argument with him, but that’s what they would have if she insisted on sleeping on the divan.

On the other hand, she didn’t want to go back to the cottage to find Gib in bed, fast asleep and not remotely concerned about where she was and what she was doing.

‘Divorce Settlement broke a leg,’ Golly replied, helping herself to the rest of Bea’s margarita.

‘Had to be shot. Never realised his potential,’ Reena added, sounding bleak. ‘Such a damned waste.’

Ah.Divorce Settlement was ahorse.

‘Oh, look, Gib’s back…’ Golly said, wiggling again. Dammit, she had a bony arse.

Right, so Gib had stuck around. What did that mean? If anything.

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