Here Come the Boys (7 page)

Angie pulled her handbag towards her. ‘All I’ve got is this.’ She handed over her lipstick.

‘It’ll do,’ said Selina making a grab for it. She painted it on and stood back. ‘Christ, it’s dark. I look like I’ve had a heart attack.’

‘It doesn’t come off either. You’re stuck with it,’ said Angie, stifling a giggle. That colour did not suit Selina at all.

‘Selina took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. ‘Oh well,’ she said. ‘Talking of well, do you feel better?’

‘Yes, thank you.’ It came out more stiffly than Angie intended, but she didn’t see the need to apologise for that.

‘Well, we have an hour until the taxi arrives. I’m going for some breakfast. I’ll meet you down there, shall I?’ said Selina.

Could she tell that I don’t want her to wait for me
? thought Angie. Probably. And she didn’t care if it was obvious.

‘Yes, I’ll be there in a bit.’

‘Okay.’ And with that Selina was out of the door.

Angie washed her face and sprayed herself with the antiperspirant, then went into an immediate coughing fit. What the hell sort of scent was that? Mustard gas? She too wished she had bought some make-up but her eyelashes were naturally thick and lush and her dark colouring and generous lips suited the purple-red lipstick which looked such a bugger on blonde Selina. She picked up a pair of pants and her eyes sprang open in surprise. They were tiny. They belonged on a Mothercare shelf. No WAY would they fit her. How had that happened? They had looked the right size on the hanger. She attempted to put them on anyway and found they were incredibly stretchy. In fact, at full extension they could have fitted yesterday’s portly taxi driver. She slid her leg into the holes and pulled them up and carried on yanking them up until they reached her neck. She didn’t know what the material was but boy, she wished her skin was made of it. Elasticity that good would have been a fabulous asset.

Her new blue dress was also too baggy but it was very cool and comfortable and what she was going to need if the weather was as hot today as it had been yesterday. She used her fingers as a comb through her hair and fastened it back with her bobble then went down to where she supposed the breakfast hall was. She had nothing in her stomach and was craving carbs.

Selina had helped herself to toast, buns, orange juice and coffee from the buffet table.

‘I’ve tried to ring Zan— the ship, but there’s no signal,’ said Selina. ‘They’ll be too far out at sea.’

So they are still together
, thought Angie,
but she’s embarrassed to say his name. She must still feel bad about stealing him away. Good.

‘Why were you in Malaga by yourself?’ she dared to ask.

‘We’ve been there loads of times,’ Selina explained, her eyes down whilst she buttered her toast. ‘Zander’s bored by it. I thought I’d get off and give my legs a good stretch. More fool me.’

‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ said Angie, suddenly gripped by panic as a picture of the ship sailing away from the dock flashed again into her mind. She didn’t want to cry in front of Selina but she felt her eyes welling up with water.

‘We have to keep calm,’ replied Selina, raising her palms, fingers spread.

‘You’ve changed,’ humphed Angie. The old Selina was hyper and always running about shrieking.

‘I’m asthmatic these days and I haven’t got any medication on me,’ replied Selina. ‘I have to stay relaxed or I’ll be in trouble.’ She bit into her toast and chewed.

Angie didn’t know what to say to that so she went over to the buffet table and filled a plate up with bread, butter and honey and took it back to the table to devour. She had just popped the last mouthful in when the lady receptionist on duty this morning waved to them from the doorway.

‘The taxi is here for you,’ she said in near-perfect English.

‘He’s early,’ said Selina, grabbing a couple of sealed packets of biscuits and stuffing them in her handbag.

Quickly they went back up to the room to pack their few things and give their teeth a quick brush. Selina returned the phone charger, Angie paid the bill on her visa – ninety euros – and Selina paid the taxi to the consulate – eight euros. If the new Selina was like the old one, Angie had no worries about getting recompensed. Selina would have given money away rather than take it. Just a pity she wasn’t the same with boyfriends.

They were about to get out of the taxi when Selina’s mobile rang. It was Manuel. Selina put it on speaker so Angie could hear what he was saying.

‘I wanted to wish you well,’ he said. ‘I have forwarded you the email address of the ship. Please liaise with them so they know what is happening. I have given the consulate my details and between us we will get you to Dubrovnik.’

‘Thank you,’ said Selina. Her voice was quiet and sounded full of gratitude.

Angie felt equally humbled by his kindness. ‘Thanks for not calling me a silly sod,’ she said. ‘Even though I am one. You’ve been very kind.’

Manuel laughed. ‘I think that if it were my wife in your position, I would like her to be treated properly.’

Angie gulped down a throatful of emotion. ‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘We’ve just arrived at the consulate.’

‘
Feliz viaje.
’

The two women walked up the stairs and were met by a Spanish security guard.

‘
Pasaportes emergencia
?’ asked Angie.

‘
Si.
’

Well, at least they were in the right place.

They had to surrender their phones and walk through a metal detector frame then the guard directed them into a room filled with chairs. They approached the long glass-enclosed counter where a pretty young lady with dark curly hair smiled at them. There was a plaque at the window bearing her name – Luisa Diaz.

‘Do you speak Eeenglish?’ asked Selina.

‘Yeees,’ replied Luisa. ‘I’m from Rotherham.’

‘Well, that’s a matter of opinion then,’ muttered Angie under her breath.

Selina ignored her. ‘I don’t believe it. We’re from South Yorkshire too.’

It turned out that Luisa had taken a summer job five years ago, met and married a Spaniard and now worked here helping out stranded people.

Manuel had sent over copies of the passports forwarded from the ship. There were some forms to fill in and then they had to go back outside the room where the security guard took a photo of them. Then they had to hand over nearly two hundred euros.

‘Jeez,’ said Angie, taking out her visa. ‘I’ll get this. You keep hold of your cash, just in case my card stops working.’

‘Thanks,’ said Selina. ‘I’ll pay you b—’

‘It’s fine,’ Angie interrupted her. ‘I know.’

‘That is too hideous for words,’ said Selina, shaking her head in disgust at her new photo. With her blonde hair fluffed up, tired eyes, sullen unsmiling expression and too dark lipstick she looked not unlike Myra Hindley.

‘Now the thing is, we can’t issue the passports until you have a flight,’ explained Luisa.

‘I thought we needed a passport before we could book a flight,’ replied Angie.

‘Yeah, that’s sort of true,’ nodded Luisa.

Angie and Selina looked at each other in confusion.

‘Have you any idea of possible flights you could take?’ asked Luisa.

Angie pulled the faxed sheet out of her handbag. ‘There’s a nine o’clock from here to Barcelona. We could get that. Will the passports be ready?’

Luisa checked out the sheet. ‘Yes, they’ll be ready about half-past twelve. I advise you to book that flight, but we need to see the confirmation. The passport will cover you for a single journey to Korčula only. Don’t be late back if you go out to the shops. The consulate closes for the afternoon.’

They left the room to email the ship on Selina’s mobile. It took twenty nail-biting minutes for the reply to reach them as the internet connection was impossibly sluggish. Mr Silverton was going to book flights for both of them and the ship would contact the consulate directly to confirm it. Angie wondered what would be going through Zander’s head when he realised who his wife was trapped with. Would his heart start to speed up with excitement?

‘I’m not leaving here until I know that the consulate have confirmation that those flights are booked,’ said Angie. She sat in the corner with the other people in there: a family of four whose passports had been stolen, an elderly couple whose passports had fallen into the harbour, a single man whose passport had been lost. There were no other numpties whose passports were sitting on a ship which they had missed getting on.

Another tense but tedious half-hour passed before Luisa summoned them over to the window.

‘The flights are booked, we have just had confirmation. Come back at twelve thirty. There are shops and restaurants across the road if you want to kill some time.’

Angie and Selina let out a synchronised sigh.

‘We might as well,’ Selina said. ‘I need to buy a hairbrush.’

‘Okay,’ agreed Angie. She was bored out of her skull sitting in that room.

After Selina had bought a brush and a pack of make-up remover tissues, they went for a coffee. Neither of them particularly wanted to walk around the shops dressed like a pair of Demis Roussoses. Selina scrubbed off the gothy lipstick and dragged the brush through her hair. It felt good.

‘I owe your husband a big thanks,’ said Selina.

‘Well it was easier than him booking my flight and Zan— your husband booking yours.’

‘Still, it was kind of him…’

Suddenly infuriated by her friendly tone, Angie slammed her coffee beaker down on the table.

‘Look, Selina, forget the nicey nicey act. “Oh, you and your husband are so good. Do thank him. And I got you some tablets for your headache.” I’m not here because I want to spend time with you. I just want to do what I have to to get back on the ship and then we can carry on with our separate lives as we have done for the past twenty years. Okay?’

‘You can’t still be this mad at me after twenty years, Angie.’

‘Yes, I bloody well can,’ came the hissed reply.

‘I genuinely am grateful you know…’

‘Stuff your gratefulness, Sel. After what you did to me. And our friendship. I hope it was all worth it.’

Selina reared. ‘Actually, seeing as you mention it, yes it was. You could never have made him happy. We are a fabulous couple; he’s the most wonderful husband in the world, kind, attentive, gorgeous and fantastic in bed.’

She said that too loudly. Some English-speakers on adjacent tables were trying not to giggle. Selina reined herself in and salvaged her composure by drinking her coffee very regally.

Angie gulped down her coffee, hoping it would drown out the pictures of Zander’s prowess in bed. She had no doubt he would be a fantastic lover, although she had never got the chance to find out. He had been a great kisser, that much she did remember. He had a beautiful soft mouth.

‘Do you want to borrow my new brush or not?’ snapped Selina.

‘Yes,’ spat Angie.

Selina pulled it out of her bag and slammed it down on the table.

‘Thank you,’ growled Angie and pulled her hair out of its bobble. She brushed then handed it back with another clipped thank-you and then they sat in hostile silence for another quarter of an hour.

‘I think we should head over to the consulate,’ said Selina, eventually. ‘I’m convinced that our watches will both stop and we’ll go back to find it closed.’

‘That’s just ridiculous,’ said Angie, not admitting the same thought had crossed her mind. ‘Thanks for buying the coffee.’

‘A great pleasure,’ replied Selina with the world’s most fake smile.

Chapter 12

At half-past twelve exactly Luisa handed over two pale very thin yellow passports.

‘There’s a taxi rank across the road. Good luck. Give my love to Rotherham.’

‘Thank you,’ said Selina, wishing she had a pound for every time she had said or heard those two words in the last twenty-four hours. Everyone was being so nice. Everyone except Angie, that was.

Sitting in the taxi, armed with their passports and details of their flight, Selina thought back to the port and the shock at seeing Angie for the first time in twenty years. She had wanted to leap up and throw her arms around her old friend, but Angie was projecting out a force field with her hostile brown eyes. Then again, could she really blame her? She had smashed up their friendship with a hammer and all for a man. Thirteen years of secrets and confessions and laughter cancelled out because of her desire for the very gorgeous Alexander Goldman.

There was a lot of time to kill at Malaga Airport and nothing to do but sit and drink coffee.

‘We could go for a burger and eat it very slowly,’ suggested Selina.

‘Why not,’ said Angie. This was no time to stick to her diet.

They sat in the burger bar with their cheese quarter-pounders, chips and Coke lights.

‘I haven’t had fast food in months,’ said Angie, momentarily forgetting that she didn’t want to indulge in friendly conversation.

‘Oh? Why’s that?’

‘Dieting. I was getting a bit porky.’

Selina smiled. ‘Can’t imagine you fat. You were always such a string bean.’

‘Well, I played a lot of hockey then, didn’t I? I was always running up and down a field.’

‘I hated hockey,’ said Selina, through a mouthful of burger.

‘Mrs Weaver made you the bloody captain,’ Angie exclaimed.

‘She was sucking up to me because she was knocking my dad off,’ said Selina.

‘Wha-at?’ Angie stopped chewing.

‘You heard.’

‘Your dad? And Mrs Weaver?’

That couldn’t have been right. Selina’s dad was tall and handsome with great big Superman shoulders. Mrs Weaver was small and plain with thin lips and massive knockers.

‘Don’t you remember her leaving halfway through the fifth year?’

Angie cast her mind back. ‘Yes, actually, I think I do.’

‘That’s because my mother found out about it and went into school threatening the head that if he didn’t sack Weaver, she was going to the newspapers. They’d already had the scandal about Mr Timpson feeling up that first year so he did what she asked.’

‘Blimey,’ said Angie. She still couldn’t picture Mrs Weaver in a passionate clinch with Dr Molloy.