‘Look, there he is. He’s still here.’
I am horrified as Carol jumps up and heads off in Elias’s direction.
‘Oh my god. Soraya, do something to stop her.’
‘You know what Carol’s like when she’s on a mission, nobody can stop her.’
‘Oh, don’t I just know that.’
This is just like the time we were in school, and I confessed I had a crush on Shaun who sat next to me. I still can’t forgive her for passing him a note telling him I loved him. It wasn’t reciprocated, and I never dared look his way again. Forty years later, I still avoid him in the supermarket. Why does Carol always have to be so in your face?
Soraya laughs, but the only thing I am doing is scowling.
I watch in disbelief as Carol approaches Elias, then says something in his ear and walks back with him. She looks like the cat that got the cream.
The champagne has already tinged my cheeks pink, and they are fast becoming a glowing scarlet.
Carol never really cares what people think of her, and so she breaks my stunned silence.
‘Lucy was just telling us you’re a skipper on a yacht?’
‘I am, for my sins.’
‘Well, I was just saying, she could have asked if it’s possible to have a nosy. Did you know she’s an author? Maybe she could write something about the yacht in her book?’
I grimace at Carol.
‘I’m not an author. Not yet, anyway. I want to be one but…’
‘An author, hey? How very interesting. Of course. Anything for a fellow Brit. I suppose I’ll have to clear it with my boss first though.’
‘Oh, yes. We wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, but I’ll check. Lucy, shall I take your phone number so I can confirm? Would tomorrow morning be okay if I can work something out?’
‘That would be spiffing,’ says Soraya.
Spiffing?I mouth at her. Soraya shakes her head at me, looking as shocked as I am about the choice of vocabulary that has left her mouth.
‘Well then, it’s a date… I mean… It’s a…yeah. Anyway, Lucy, if you would be so kind as to give me your number, I’ll message you in the morning and confirm.’
‘It’s O797…’ says Carol before I can even respond.
‘Perfect. I’ve got your number stored safely. I’m calling it a night now. Enjoy yourselves. Have a good evening, ladies.’
‘Have a good evening, ladies,’ repeats Carol in his accent as soon as he is out of earshot.
‘You don’t meet many guys with manners like that, do you?’
‘No, fair play to him,’ says Soraya.
The bottle of champagne is almost empty, and despite our win, we don’t have that much money to splash on drinks. I suggest to Carol and Soraya that we go back to the apartment for a nightcap. Thankfully, we managed to pick up some bits from the supermarket on the way back from lunch, and there is a rather lovely-looking French wine waiting for us in the fridge that would make a suitable nightcap.
Back at the apartment and sitting outside on the balcony, we look down at the yachts below.
‘What sort of boat do you think Elias drives?’ says Carol.
‘It’s not a Porsche. I don’t think youdrivea boat, Carol,’ says Soraya.
