Three's a Crowd (6 page)

I gulped. Was this a trick? A way of getting me somewhere private so he could beat me up?

“Computer?”

Jonno frowned. “Yeah. For the daily homework your mum told me you’d got to do.”

The homework.
Jesus.
I’d forgotten all about it.

Jonno pointed me towards the door.

“Wait here, Eve,” he said. “When I come back I want to introduce you to Lola.”

As Jonno pulled open the door, Eve and I exchanged mutually pitying glances.

Then I followed Jonno inside the hotel.

It took me three hours to get Mum’s stupid homework done. I had to write an essay, a review of a fictional sporting event, then do twenty questions off a sample maths paper.

It was impossible to concentrate. Jonno had set me to work in an unairconditioned broom cupboard near his office. Well, maybe it wasn’t an actual broom cupboard. But that’s what it felt like. There was just room for the desk, the computer and me. Oh. And a small window which gave tantalising views of the far corner of the pool and the trees beyond.

The screaming of the kids in the pool was distracting enough, but every so often I’d also catch a glimpse of Eve, wandering about on the grass in her bikini.

I thought about ringing her mobile and asking her to come and talk to me through the window, but decided against it. If I did that I wouldn’t be finished until midnight.

After about an hour I was starving, but I didn’t dare stop working. Mum had said she expected an email every day by two p.m. or she’d make Jonno send me home. And, having met Jonno now, I was sure he’d have no qualms about getting rid of me.

Sweating and grumbling under my breath I worked my way through both exercises, stopping only to email Mum to ask for an extension to the deadline.

At about quarter to two there was a knock at the door. Marco poked his head round. “
Hola
.” He grinned. “Eva give me this for you.” He produced a large ham and cheese sandwich.

I fell on it, thanking him gratefully.

“She come herself, but she goes to the crèche now,” Marco added.

Great. Just as I’m finishing up, Eve has to work.

I turned back to the computer and checked my emails. There was one from Mum, refusing my request for an extended deadline and saying:

“Matt, me and the bump all fine – thanks for asking.”

Yeah, well Mum, I’ve got other things on my mind right now. Like doing your stupid homework and avoiding Eve’s psychotic dad.

“PS: I had a scan yesterday. It’s too early to tell, but I’m certain it’s a boy. Thought you’d be pleased.”

Pleased? Why would I be pleased? I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl. They both make the same amount of noise, i.e. loud.

The shrill screams from the pool got worse as the afternoon went on. That, and the heat radiating into the room, only added to my worsening mood. I finally finished off the homework and emailed it off to Mum without replying to her message about the baby. It was two-fifteen p.m.

Outside the air was boilingly hot. Only a few hardcore sunbathers were still lying on loungers by the pool. I found Ryan in their midst, eyes shut, listening to my iPod.

I wrenched out the earphones.

“Hey.” He sat up.

“I’m so pissed off.” I kicked at his lounger.

“Yeah, well, don’t take it out on the furniture.” He grinned. “Jonno’ll make you repaint it.”

I sank down on the lounger next to his. “When do Eve and Chloe finish at the crèche?”

“Four o’clock.” Ryan lay back and closed his eyes again. “But don’t go getting excited. That’s when we start waiting tables. Apparently the four-to-six shift’s the easiest though. Mostly tea and cake and clearing tables. No proper meals or actual waiting or anything. Catalina’s gonna swing by in an hour, pick us up, show us what to do.”

“Oh?” I said.

Ryan opened one eye. “You fancy her, don’t you?”

“No,” I said.

Ryan laughed. “You are the world’s worst liar, man.”

I kicked at his lounger again. How annoyingly typical of Ryan to have sussed that I thought Cat was really hot.

“Well, don’t you?” I said.

“Sure.” Ryan sat back smugly. “But I’m with Chloe.”

“And I’m with Eve,” I said, feeling more irritated.

Ryan snorted. “Not so’s anyone would notice, you aren’t. And anyway,” he crossed his arms, “Cat’s with Marco.”

“For God’s sake, Ry, I’m not going to do anything,” I shouted, suddenly furious with him.

One of the hardcore sunbathers sat up and glared at me. Ryan shook his head, his eyes all wide and mocking.

“Don’t embarrass the guests,” he mouthed.

Another time I would have laughed. But right then I just felt too pissed off. I lay back on my lounger and sighed deeply. At this rate I was going to end up spending less time with Eve while we were on holiday than I did when we were at school.

Catalina showed up half an hour later in the waiting staff girl’s uniform of black mini-skirt and tight, white blouse.

As she led us up to where we were picking up our own uniforms (black trousers and white shirts) Ryan murmured. “One thing you gotta say about Jonno – he likes his female staff in hot clothes.”

“Mmmn,” I grunted, trying not to stare too obviously at Catalina’s slim, brown legs.

Clearing the tea tables wasn’t too bad. Better than being in the kitchen, which felt like a sauna. Not many people showed up, and Ryan, Cat and I were able to spend most of our two-hour shift chatting.

Cat was even friendlier than she had been last night. She had this habit of touching me, all the time. A little stroke of the arm or a ruffle of the hair or a pat on the back.

“It’s like she can’t keep her hands off you,” Ryan hissed as we passed each other on the way to the kitchen. I deposited my armful of dirty plates, then crossed the room to where he was refilling a china bowl from a large, encrusted jar of strawberry jam.

“She’s like that with everyone,” I said.

“Nah, mate.” Ryan grinned at me. “For example, take me. She likes me, sure. But with you it’s different. She’s totally hot for you.” He shook his head. “Poor Marco.”

I shrugged. But inside, I had to admit I was pleased. Well, why shouldn’t I be? Cat was gorgeous. And it didn’t mean anything was going to happen – after all, I
was
with Eve, whatever stupid games we had to play to hide it from her dad.

Cat left at the end of the shift, having extracted promises from both of us to turn up at the Garito that night.

“It start later Tuesdays,” she said, looking up at me seductively. “Open Mike Night is popular. So many staff no free until late.”

Ryan and I went back to our room to change. On the way we met Chloe who told us that Eve was having tea out with her dad and Lola.

I swore. “When am I supposed to see her?”

Chloe gave me a pitying look. “She said she’d catch us in the nightclub at nine. Her dad’s offered to buy us some beers at the Open Mike. What are you going to sing?”

“I’m not,” I said shortly. Personally, I thought the idea of an evening where people could get up and sing whatever they wanted sounded stupid.

Chloe put her arms round Ryan and gazed up at him adoringly. “What about you, Skankface?”

Ryan grinned. “I am surprising you,” he said, “with my awesome talents.” He pulled her into a snog as we reached the trees.

I stomped on ahead, muttering darkly to myself.

The nightclub was buzzing when we turned up at nine. The whole place was dark, with soft wall lighting and a big disco ball over the dance floor. Tables and chairs had been placed around the raised stage, which was set with piano, drum kit and several chairs and microphone stands.

Chloe told us that the open mike session ran from nine-thirty to eleven-thirty. “Then Jonno says they take the tables and chairs away and it turns into some middle-aged disco.”

A waiter showed us to Jonno’s table, right at the front by the stage. We sat down and Chloe and Ryan started chatting excitedly. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Loads of people were already in the room and more were flooding in.

My mind drifted to Catalina. I wondered if Ryan was right about her liking me. Probably. Ryan was rarely wrong about things like that. Knowing that she fancied me but that nothing would happen because we were both going out with other people was kind of exciting. Like a secret we shared that no-one else would ever know.

Except freakin’ Ryan, of course.

Then I looked up. And saw Eve walking towards me.

And I forgot I’d ever met Catalina.

Eve was wearing a short, shimmery dress that clung gently to her body as she glided across the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She drew closer, smiling at me. Her face was
so
beautiful. Her soft, slender body
so
naturally, effortlessly, mesmerisingly sexy. My heart pounded. What did she see in me? How was I ever going to stop some other guy from stealing her away?

As she sat down next to me, I leaned over to kiss her. She drew back sharply. And I remembered.

Jonno.

He strode up behind her, cigar in one hand. “Hi guys,” he grinned. A waiter appeared at his elbow and he ordered a round of drinks. Whisky for him. Beers for us. He winked at Ryan. “Maybe something stronger later,” he said. Then he strode off again.

I ground my teeth. “I’ve had such a shit day,” I said to Eve.

“Me too,” she said. “I had to spend the whole afternoon after work with Dad and Lola. She’s hideous. She’s twenty-three and she was all, like, ‘let’s be friends Evie’. That’s what she called me. ‘Evie’.”

“Where’s she from?” Ryan asked.

“California,” Eve said. “Via the nearest plastic surgery clinic.”

This was surprisingly bitchy for Eve. I looked at her, shocked.

“What?” she said. “She’s had her nose done as well. She told me. Oh, God, Luke. She’s a total cow.
And
she’s the singer with the band here.”

She seemed close to tears. I wanted to put my arm round her, but I didn’t dare. So I leaned towards her and was about to tell her how gorgeous she was, when Jonno’s voice boomed through the nightclub.

“Good evening. Good evening. And welcome to Open Mike Night at La Villa Bonita.”

Jonno was speaking from the very front of the stage. An enthusiastic burst of applause followed his words, then the room fell silent again.

“The fun starts in thirty minutes. But to warm us all up, please put your hands together and welcome Band Bonita.”

We clapped as a line of grey-haired men traipsed onto the stage.

Ryan caught my eye. “They rock,” he said sarcastically.

“Check out the drummer,” Chloe said, clapping more fervently. “Oh my God.”

I strained to see past the other men to where a much younger guy was adjusting the position of the drum kit. He stood up and flicked back his black hair. He looked about seventeen or eighteen and was tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong, square-jawed face.

“Whaddya reckon, Eve? Definitely doable?” Chloe shrieked.

I glanced crossly at Eve. She caught my eye and looked away from the drummer, blushing.

Excellent.

“And, the star of the show, the amazing . . . the stupendous . . . Lola LaServa.”

From behind the stage Lola appeared. She wore a skintight evening dress, slit up to her hip and down to her belly button. Wolf whistles and clapping filled the room. I glanced across at Ryan. He was slumped in his chair, staring at Lola, one hand on Chloe’s shoulder, the other theatrically clutching at his chest.

Next to me Eve pressed her lips tightly together. I’d never seen her look so miserable. I reached under the table and squeezed her hand. She smiled weakly at me.

I didn’t want to upset Eve by watching Lola sing. But, frankly, when you’re in that kind of club, there isn’t an awful lot you can do except watch the band. They played swing music. The older guys were surprisingly cool, strumming nonchalantly away on their guitars or sitting slumped in their chairs, blowing lazily on trumpets and horns.

The drummer looked sulky and bored, tapping and swishing at his drums. Lola herself was extraordinary. Quite apart from the fact that she appeared in constant danger of falling out of her dress, she sang in this low, sexy growl, clenching her fists and waving her arms around. It was hardly my kind of music, but I could see she was good at it.

Lola sang her way through four songs straight, then left the stage.

“She’s amazing,” Ryan grinned. He raised his eyebrows. “
Outstanding
, in fact.”

Eve narrowed her eyes. “Let me tell you,” she spat. “Those comedy boobs are the least fake thing about her.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Sorry, Ry,” Eve said. “I didn’t mean to . . . I’m just. . .” Her eyes filled with tears.

Unable to give her a hug I felt helpless. I glanced at Chloe. She rolled her eyes at me. “Eve?” she said gently.

Eve blinked back her tears. “I’m fine.” She turned to me, clearly wanting to change the subject. “How was all your homework?”

“Gross.” I remembered Mum’s email. “Mum reckons she’s having a boy, by the way.”

Chloe squealed with excitement. “A boy? I was kind of hoping for a girl – more dolly clothes, but still, we can. . .” She stopped and glared at me. “You’ve known that all day and you’ve only just told me?”

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” I said. “It’s only gonna puke and poo and scream for the first few years anyway.”

Chloe slammed her glass down so hard that beer splashed out onto the tablecloth. “You insensitive retard,” she said. “Just ’cause it doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“Doesn’t it, Luke?” Eve frowned. “Don’t you care about having a baby brother?”

I looked desperately at her. “Sure,” I said unconvincingly. I glanced over at Ryan.

He waved me away with a look that said,
You dug your own hole there, mate
.

“You’re so immature. . .” Chloe’s words were cut off by the boom of Jonno’s voice echoing round the room again.

“And now, the Open Mike Night begins.”

Drum roll.