Page 23 of What Happens in Dubai

Ashley and I gasped at his expertise.

‘You girls underestimate me!’ he exclaimed, before expertly puffing out a trail of smoke rings.

‘Naw, no way! I really want a shot, but there’s no way I’m putting my mouth around a communal pipe. That’s fucking disgusting,’ Ashley said as she sat down again.

‘I’m sure you’ve had your mouth around worse,’ I teased. Raj nodded in agreement.

‘So, guys, that footballer has added me on Instagram!’ Ashley said.

Raj waved his hands in the air and began cheering mockingly.

‘Is that shit making him high or something?’

‘No, it’s just steam,’ I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

‘First time for everything, I suppose – Raj finally gets steaming!’ Ashley blew him a sarcastic kiss across the table, and we carried on with our cocktails and sheesha.

The Barasti buzz continued, and a few hours later, we were stumbling to and from the bar, dancing on the loungers and hugging anyone who walked by our station. My cocktail intake was becoming uncountable, and despite regular checks to my Insta DMs and feeling slightly disheartened Andy hadn’t replied, I was still having the time of my life.

‘Zara, I think I’m going over to talk to that Celtic player. I really, really like him,’ Ashley said as we stood in the queue for the bathroom. By this point in our alcohol fest we had well and truly broken the bladder seal.

‘What? The one in the picture with you?’ I felt confused by my friend, who had never before shown a hint of interest in any other man except Dave for the past five years.

‘Yes. He’s lovely, and I wasn’t going to say anything, but he’s been sending me mails since I added that picture.’ She bit her lip suggestively as I gasped, having been completely unaware of what was transpiring.

‘Noooooooo.’ I held my floppy drunk hands to my face. Then I looked at her.

‘What about Dave?’ I asked.

‘What about him? I’m in fucking Dubai, hen!’ she screamed with drunken happiness.

‘That bastard doesn’t appreciate one thing about me, do you know that?’ Ashley pointed in my face aggressively. ‘I sent him about ten fucking pictures since I got here and not once has he said I looked nice!’ She shook her head, now looking upset. ‘So, I say fuck him!’

‘But the Celtic guy is not hot, Ash. At least pick someone hot.’ I thought back to the young player, who had thick bobbed hair and the biggest set of teeth, who looked more like a horse in a huff than a person.

‘Hey, he is fucking hot! Plus, it’s not all about looks, Zara. He likes me. And I like him!’ She looked at me grudgingly.

‘You’ve just fucking met him. Ash, honestly, you’re pissed. Look, let’s go back, have a drink of water and calm down a bit.’ I was slurring my own words but trying my best to appear rational while my fuzzy head attempted to tackle this critical situation.

‘I don’t need to calm down, Zara! And I don’t need to pee!’ she yelled at me frustratedly and turned her back on me, stumbling her way back to our spot.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t follow her; I was desperate for the toilet and instead had to squirm and jiggle about till it was eventually my turn. While pissing in the pan, I began wondering what the fuck Ashley was on about.Maybe I should let her enjoy the holiday and let her hair down?But I didn’t want her to regret her decision. Ashley was such a loyal person, who seemed to have it all; I didn’t want her fucking her entire life up because of a few daiquiris in Dubai. As I walked back to the table, I watched my best friend swaying in the moonlight, still wholly engrossed in her phone.

‘Is she OK?’ I asked Raj.

He shrugged, waving his hands in the air to the music.

‘Ash, are you OK?’ I called out.

She nodded, not breaking eye contact with her phone.

‘Ash?’ I probed her for a better response.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry. I just felt sick. I’ve drunk way too much.’ She eventually glanced up to me, smiling, looking a little teary.

‘OK, good! Do you want to dance?’ I held my hand out towards her.

‘No, honestly, I’m OK. I feel really fucking sick. I think I’m going to walk down to the water and call Dave.’ She stood up and kicked off her Louboutins.

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