Destination India (25 page)

My mouth was dry; I was so confused, happy, tired and scared all at the same time. ‘But what about the business? As much as Kelli hopes we will fix it, it’s fucked, like you said,’ I whispered, not wanting him to move his beautiful eyes from mine. God, he smelt so good. I probably smelt like a festival portaloo.

‘I know; don’t get me wrong. We will be fighting like hell tomorrow with whatever comes our way, but in case it really is all over then I wanted you to know how I felt. I should have told you a long, long time ago. I just had this
sudden realisation that if it has gone tits up, I might not get the chance to say this to you. It might be the cheesiest, lamest thing on the planet to be stood here declaring my feelings for you but I knew I had to try.’

I shook my head. ‘No, it’s not cheesy at all.’

Suddenly I wanted to find Serena more than ever – not to throttle her, but to kiss her for what she’d done in getting Ben to profess his feelings for me. I felt like I was floating, my senses were heightened, and my irises had turned into hearts. I was sure he could see my heart fluttering under my blouse.

‘I think I’m falling for you, Georgia,’ he said, so quietly I was convinced I’d misheard him.

He glanced up through his long thick eyelashes at me, staring at me so intensely I gripped on to the desk behind me for support. Tears were freely spilling from my eyes.

‘What? R- r-really?’ I sniffed and shook my head lightly. ‘Ben, I fell for you a long time ago.’

I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand as he cautiously stepped towards me and curled his arm around my waist. A simple movement that felt clumsy at first but then wildly amazing as we both grew bolder. I tiptoed to meet him. He dipped his head lower as we just gazed at each other for a moment. I’d never been so close to his face before. I’d never noticed the faint silvery line of a scar above his lip or the flecks of moss green in his dark eyes. I felt my legs weakening as he teased me, letting my body fizz with anticipation.

‘You are wonderful,’ he breathed and with that he tipped my jaw up to his and softly placed his lips on mine.

My breathing was all over the place; my head was filled with nothing but sheer joy, happiness and lust. He was an even better kisser than I’d ever fantasised about. His arm pulled me closer, completely up against his broad,
warm frame and softly ran a hand through my hair. I felt my whole body melt and react to his touch. My heart was racing, our tongues exploring, our breathing heavy. I had never been kissed like this. Gentle
and
passionate. Full of unspoken words and lost time to make up for.

We eventually broke for air. Our chests rising and falling, the room coming back into focus. The silence around us suddenly sounded really loud as we tried to control our panting, all the while never losing eye contact. Was it always this quiet in here? I wondered. I suddenly got the giggles.

‘What?’ he asked, nervously pulling back and running a hand awkwardly through his hair.

I shook my head. ‘Ben Stevens kissed me.’

‘About bloody time too.’ He grinned before cupping my jaw and dipping his lips to mine once more.

Reparation (n.) The making amends for wrong or injury done

I walked down the clean antiseptic-smelling corridors of the hospital where my dad had been critically ill just last year. Every corridor looked the same with disorientating but identical minty green walls, meaning I’d been wandering around in circles looking for Honey Oak ward where Trisha was for bloody ages. I felt like I was floating not walking after Ben professed his true feelings for me. I couldn’t stop grinning, which was strange considering my business was on the brink of collapse. I guess after surviving India and hearing Ben whisper the words I’d longed for him to say since I’d met him, it put things into perspective. I felt stronger and ready to fight what tomorrow would bring, knowing that he was firmly by my side.

After forcing our lips away from each other we’d locked up the shop and I’d headed here to see how Trisha was doing. Although Ben had told me she was fine, just bored stiff due to being cooped up on bed rest, I still felt like I should make the effort to see her. Plus, I needed some time to compute everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, both good and bad, and try to come up with a plan for how we were going to save our shop.

Not seeing any hospital staff wandering around I sighed and decided to head into the small café that I must have
passed at least twice to ask for directions. A plump lady with an ample chest smiled at me as I entered.

‘All right, lovey? What can I get for you?’

‘Oh, sorry, I’m just looking to find out how to get to …’ I paused, feeling my stomach do that strange flippy thing as I realised who was sat at one of the few tables laid out behind the counter. What was she doing here?

‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said distractedly to the busty woman who tutted. I edged over to her table, feeling another wave of anxiety wash over me.

‘Oh my God! So you really are sick? Oh no, what is it? What’s the matter? I knew I should have tried harder to see you more, to be a better friend,’ I blurted out a hundred miles an hour at Mike and a pale-looking Marie through tearful eyes. ‘I am so sorry.’

Marie looked at me strangely. ‘Georgia? What are you on about?’

‘You’re sick, aren’t you?’ I looked between the two of them and realised that Mike actually seemed to be really cheerful for someone with a dying girlfriend.

Marie shook her head and laughed before pulling out a chair for me to sit on. ‘I’m not sick –’

‘Oh, thank the Lord,’ I said.

‘Well I was for a few days, but it turns out I wasn’t sick sick.’ She looked at me as if I should have the faintest idea at what she was trying to get at.

‘What?’

‘Georgia. I’m pregnant.’ She let out a quiet scream and gripped my hands.

I flicked my gaze between her and Mike and suddenly saw that on the table in between their empty cups and empty crisp packets was a grainy black and white photo of an ultrasound scan.

‘No! Wow, oh my God, this is amazing news!’ I hugged them both.

‘Thank you, and it’s me who should be offering you an apology for being a crap friend,’ Marie said, fiddling with a sachet of sugar as Mike went to get me a drink.

‘No, it’s me.’

‘No. I have a confession to make.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You know they say being pregnant makes you a little crackers sometimes?’

‘Oh yeah.’ I rolled my eyes and let out a little laugh. ‘I remember before you found out you were having Cole you suddenly became almost stalker-like for Shane Richie.’

She blushed and checked Mike wasn’t around to hear that. ‘Yep, so this time those hormones happened again although instead of Mr Richie … it was passport stealing.’

It took a moment for this to sink in. ‘You took Shelley’s passport?’

‘I am so, so sorry. I’ve been in touch with Shelley to apologise and asked her not to tell you until I’d had the chance to, but then I had really bad morning sickness, well, all-day sickness, and there was no way I was going to tell you this over the phone. I was actually planning on coming to see you this weekend with the news. Please say you forgive me.’

No wonder I hadn’t heard much from Shelley.

I pulled her into a hug. ‘Of course.’

‘Anyway, aren’t you meant to be at work?’ She glanced at the clock.

‘Well, let’s just say that you’re not the only one with news.’ I sighed and told her everything.

Aftermath (n.) Consequence; result

The following morning after barely a couple of hours’ sleep I raced to the local newsagent who was just pulling up his shutters. I was still wearing my onesie and had scraped my hair up in a pineapple on my head; it couldn’t be worse than the images Chris had slyly taken when we were away and probably published. I’d planned my route to tackle all the nearby newsagents; I was going to buy every single copy before anyone else could. As helpful as Marie had been yesterday I was still no further on with a solution to our business problem, and this was the best plan we’d come up with. I stacked all the copies I could onto the counter, nearly knocking over the pick and mix sweet bags.

‘Anything else, love?’ the guy behind the counter asked through a loud yawn.

‘You don’t have any other copies do you?’ He shook his head. ‘Just these then, thanks.’

He took my cash, barely raising a pierced eyebrow at the scruffy woman with a voracious reading appetite.

‘Thanks, come again,’ he said as I raced out of the shop.

I sat on a bench outside and closed my eyes before taking a deep breath and flicking through the crisp pages. News, news, news. Ah, business. Oh fuck. My gurning face, splattered in paint at the infamous night of the Holi party,
took up half the page with the headline ‘UNDERCOVER BOSS UNMASKED ON TRAVEL TOUR=‘ in intimidating block capital letters. I took a deep breath and read …

The Lonely Hearts Travel Club, a travel tour agency designed to get sad singletons back on their feet, has been a rising star in the tourism market since it launched last November. But, in the wake of damning online criticism, has this new Manchester-based business got what it takes to survive? Chris Kennings reports.

THE boss of tour agency The Lonely Hearts Travel Club risked her reputation by posing as a hairdresser to get the inside scoop on her own business — but did she dupe her own customers? Georgia Green, who set up the tour agency for newly-singles after suffering her own heartache, secretly travelled to India for the low-down on trips organised by her company in the wake of scathing criticism on a popular travel blog.

In a particularly damning post, Lonely Hearts Travels were blasted for sending clients on a substandard, disorganised and shambolic trip, hosted by a ‘lazy’ and ‘rude’ tour guide. The
Daily Times
signed up to the two-week India trip to investigate the allegations — since retracted by the author — only to discover Ms Green among the tour group, posing as Louise, a jilted hairdresser from Manchester.

Unbeknown to five other travellers on the trip, she masked her true identity, presumably to investigate the blog’s damaging claims for herself.

But was it right that she faked who she really was in front of her very own customers? On the tour, which took in the sights of the Taj Mahal, the madness of Mumbai and the beaches of Goa, Ms Green may have fooled the other guests, but not I.

Uh-oh, I thought. Here it comes …

Before booking my trip I made a quick visit to the firm’s base in Manchester, I had been impressed by the professionalism and attitude of her small band of employees.

So, I was curious to know why she felt the need to lie — was this an easy excuse for a getaway of her own or an extraordinary step to ensure her company was up to scratch?

At the start it was difficult to tell.

On the first evening in New Delhi, Ms Green hid little as she indecently exposed herself, while singing awful karaoke in a busy Indian restaurant. I shared a small and extremely basic beach hut on the sandy shores of Goa with her and was even flatulated upon during a yoga class.

As time went on, Ms Green took no notes, as far as I could tell. There were no reports back to her sales team and she asked no questions of the group about how things could be improved or if we thought the trip represented value-for-money. Had I been asked after the first few days, I would have argued that it didn’t.

But it soon transpired that Ms Green had been making improvements in a far more subliminal way.

Behind the scenes, she had been working her magic on our tour guide, Nihal. This flaky, lazy man who we met on our first evening evolved into a competent and passionate tour guide. He was no doubt helped by the surprise recruitment of a female tour guide, Ameera. Together, they created the perfect double act.

The dynamics, relationships and professionalism of the tour increased ten-fold by the end, which was in no doubt due to Ms Green’s coaching and mentoring - and her willingness to get her hands dirty.

She risked her reputation in order to ensure her guests had the time of their lives and put their troubles to bed.
As part of the tour we starred in a Bollywood movie, filmed on a beach in Mumbai, and opened up to Hindu holy men in an awe-inspiring temple. The packed itinerary of activities meant that guests who arrived as strangers left as friends. They confided in one another about their relationship woes and returned home stronger.

One backpacker described her trip as ‘priceless’ — while another said he would ‘never forget’ his two weeks in India.

Her lack of transparency by going undercover was a risky move, and she could easily have been caught out.

But her passion, attention to detail and focus on service shone through. I thought this could have been a trip I’d remember for all the wrong reasons — but I was wrong.

The Lonely Hearts Travel Club will make you glad you’ve just been dumped.

Oh my God! Oh my God!
I scrambled to get my mobile out of my fluffy pocket to call Ben.

He answered in one ring. ‘Georgia!’

‘Ben! Have you seen –?’ I asked breathlessly.

‘Yeah. What a bloody blinding article. I don’t know how we pulled this off,’ he said, with the croak still in his morning voice.

I shook my head and re-read the text, pulling bits of it to say out loud.

‘The photo though …’ I winced.

‘The photo looks like Georgia. The one I met in Thailand, the one I know and fancy,’ Ben said.

‘Oh.’ I blushed.

‘You look great; don’t worry. Also, I realised that you never actually told me what it was you got up to in India, something about naked karaoke …?’

I smiled. ‘Err yeah, it wasn’t
quite
as bad as that.’

Ben laughed. ‘Well I’d love to know more. You fancy an early coffee? I’ll meet you in our shop.’

‘Sounds perfect.’

We had only just opened up when Kelli arrived in a complete daze, her kohled eyes wide and disbelieving as she stumbled through the door clutching a copy of the paper.

‘I knew you could do it!’ she shouted before racing over for an awkward hug.

‘Ha ha, morning,’ I laughed, squeezing her bony frame and getting a strong whiff of hair dye in my face.

‘I’ve already shared it on my Facebook and Twitter. You should see how many people have commented and retweeted. It’s got even more likes than when I posted a gif of a pug dancing to Marilyn Manson.’

‘Cheers, Kel.’ I smiled at her fondly as she picked up Serena’s diamanté-framed picture of roses that was still lingering on my desk and unceremoniously dumped it into the bin.

‘Take that, you stupid skank.’

My laughter faded as I realised that we still had this problem to fix. The article had been a huge and unexpected success but we still had lost a significant amount of cash and needed to make amends with a lot of suppliers. Ben must have read my worried expression as he handed me a cup of coffee and placed a warm hand on mine.

‘I’ll call the police again and see if they have any new leads. We just need to stay positive that she will be caught and that this great write-up will lead to more business. Maybe the police can track her through the gig tickets, catch her red-handed when she rocks up?’

I smiled gratefully at him and nodded. ‘Fingers crossed.’

The rest of the day was a complete whirlwind. I’d had a call from my parents telling me that they’d sent clippings of the article to everyone they knew, although my dad had to restrain my mum from Tipp-Exing out the part where I farted on a national journalist. Shelley called me telling
me she’d read it online and had already commented on it twice, although she was gutted she’d missed what sounded like an epic trip.

The phones didn’t stop ringing with people who had read Chris’s article and wanted to book themselves on one of our tours. The shop was full of excited, wannabe travellers flicking through our brochures, handing over deposits and at one point our website actually crashed due to the increase in traffic. All the signs were there for us to claw back some, if not all, of the cash that Serena had stolen from us.

‘Georgia?’ Ben had his palm covering the mouthpiece on his phone and a sombre look on his face. ‘It’s the police. They want to speak to you.’

I finished with a very excited woman who left clinging on to the brochure for the Indian tour and took the call.

‘Hello?’

‘Miss Green? This is Detective Wilkinson. I have been speaking with your partner Mr Stevens.’ I could hear the rustle of papers as the policeman with the nasally voice checked his details before continuing. ‘We will likely be concluding our investigation, as unfortunately we have very little to go on. Without your business going through the official protocol of verifying references and past employment, not to mention a very lax approach to the hiring process, we have no good leads in tracking down this Miss DeVere. We will continue to monitor the possibility of those gig tickets that Mr Stevens mentioned, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.’

My stomach dropped. I knew it had been a long shot and Ben had already apologised at how rubbish he’d been when he’d offered Serena the job. He’d never got round to sorting out her full-time contract either, meaning we had no concrete details for her or her history. I would still keep a
small flame of hope that karma would deliver her what she deserved.

‘I understand.’

‘However, we have been able to check our records and even with these scarce details of this missing employee, it did ring a bell of a previous case my colleague was working on a few years ago in Hull. The circumstances are very similar and the woman matches the exact description you have given us.’

So she’d done this before.

‘I know this is little consolation but you are not the first, and most probably won’t be the last, to fall for a scam like this. In the future, I suggest you tighten your recruitment policy.’

I glanced round at the busy shop and smiled at Kelli who was in her element, comfortably and confidently dealing with the customer in front of her.

‘Don’t worry. It will never happen again. I already have the perfect employees.’

Once the last customer had filed out I literally fell onto the sofa exhausted and very overwhelmed. We had survived. I could have cried with happiness.

‘Thought we should pop this open,’ Ben said grinning as he brandished a bottle of champagne.

‘Nice thought, but champers tastes like cat piss,’ Kelli grumbled.

‘Cheers, Kel, well luckily for you I got you a couple of bottles of fluorescent green alcopops.’ Ben laughed as Kelli’s eyes lit up.

I sat up, shook my head to wake myself up and accepted the cool, crisp bubbles Ben had poured into my favourite mug. Thankfully he had saved it from Serena when she chucked all the others out. ‘Thank you. I’ve ordered us a takeaway too.’

‘We should nearly go bust every day.’ Kelli laughed. ‘What did you go for?’

‘An Indian, of course.’ I smiled.

‘Brilliant choice, so raise your glasses or mugs everyone,’ Ben said. ‘I want to say a huge well done to all of us today; we definitely deserve a drink. Kel – you have been a complete superstar and I know you’re gutted at missing out on going to see Battlestar Death Wing.’ Kel shrugged, trying to hide how disappointed she felt. ‘So, I’ve made a few calls and have managed to bag you a pair of tickets for when they play Liverpool. I couldn’t quite get you front row but at least you’ll be there.’

‘What! For reals?’ Kel jumped to her feet, sloshing lurid green liquid as she did, and hugged Ben.

‘All right, calm down.’ He laughed. ‘Just don’t even think about asking me or Georgia to go with you.’

I smiled at how excited Kelli was, and she promised Ben she would take this guy she had her eye on instead of us, and was straight on her phone tweeting all her followers with the news.

‘Georgia – I also have something for you.’

I wanted to say that I hoped it was his hot naked body but bit my lip and stared at him expectantly. ‘Oh really?’

He came and sat on the sofa with me, and I felt this shiver of excitement as he put his arm around me. It felt so natural, but also filled me with this strange new bloody fantastic feeling.

‘I’ve been thinking about what you told me about those street children you saw in Delhi.’

My stomach clenched. Immediately the vulnerable, ghostly eyes of that little girl begging on a busy street swam into my mind. ‘Yeah.’ I suddenly felt extremely guilty that we were sat here in the warm drinking champagne and toasting our success when she was God knows where, with God knows who.

‘I was going to bring it up at our next staff meeting.’ His eyes creased with a slow smile. ‘But I wanted to propose a new initiative for the business, especially now that we seem to be far from closing.’ He paused as I tilted my head. ‘I haven’t yet figured out all the details, but I want us to launch the Lonely Hearts Foundation, a not-for-profit fund that will go directly to the charities we choose. It means I get to use my knowledge of the charity world and we get to help others. A chance for us and our customers to give back to the places that they’ve travelled to.’

I smiled, looking up at the handmade craft that Ameera had given me in Goa, which took pride of place above my desk. ‘That’s an incredible idea,’ I breathed. ‘Seriously, you’re amazing, you know?’ I leant over and kissed him softly on the lips. The thrill of being able to do this and not waking up from it being all a dream was insane.

‘Get a room already!’ Kelli shouted out as she covered her eyes.

‘Right, I say we finish our curry then close up the shop and all head on to the pub.’ I laughed and rose to my feet.