‘Poor Tessa,’ Rory said. But Kate had a sneaking suspicion that he had joined in the texting campaign. Or maybe he was just being a supportive boyfriend, trying to help her win, she thought, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
* * *
Will wasn’t enjoying his birthday.What’s the matter with me?he thought, as he toyed with his langoustines. Tina had taken him to a Michelin-starred restaurant, one of the most expensive in Florence. The food was ambrosial, the atmosphere sublime, he was with the most stunning woman in the room, and she had booked a room for them later at one of Florence’s top hotels. It was most men’s fantasy date. But all he wanted was to be back at the villa eating pizza in the living room with Kate and the others while they laughed themselves silly overCelebrity Cell Block.
He knew he was being an ungrateful sod. Tina was incredibly beautiful and desirable, every inch of her skin polished and luminous, her hair a lustrous curtain of silk. But he couldn’t help wondering if it was for him or for the paparazzi who would be waiting outside to ambush them. He wished Tina could take him out for his birthday without turning it into a photo opportunity.
Looking at her now across the table, he tried to remember why they had got together in the first place. It hadn’t always been like this. There was sexual attraction, of course, but it wasn’t just that – they used to have fun. He wondered what had happened to the cool girl who was happy to traipse around the world with him and the band, the party girl who would dance until dawn and DJ into the small hours. He didn’t know when she had changed, but somewhere along the way the carefree, hedonistic rock chick hehad known had been replaced by a shrewd, controlling businesswoman who believed her own publicity and took herself way too seriously. He wondered when they had drifted so far apart and found himself not caring much about the answer. The fact was that they had.
Nowadays, he found her hard-headed, arrogant and aggressive. Most of the time she simply irritated him – like now, he thought, as she raked her hand through her hair yet again with a jangle of bracelets in a gesture he knew was designed to draw attention to its glossy luxuriance as it tumbled around her shoulders. She seemed to imagine the racket the bangles made was charming, but it set Will’s teeth on edge and he was fighting the urge to grab her arms and pin them to the table. ‘Is everything okay, Will?’ she asked, taking his hand across the table. ‘You’re very quiet.’
He felt like a heel. He wasn’t being fair to her. She had surprised him by flying in for his birthday and brought him to this lovely place, and he was being sullen and churlish, acting like a spoilt brat. He hated to admit it, but he had been annoyed when she’d called out of the blue to tell him that she was in Florence and was taking him out for his birthday. He had been looking forward to spending the evening with Kate and the others.
Determined to cheer up, he smiled at her.
‘Yes, everything’s great. This place is terrific. And I think I’m in there.’ He nodded at their waiter, who had been flirting outrageously with him all evening. ‘It’s nice to know I can still pull.’
Tina just looked cross. ‘You should report him to the manager,’ she said indignantly. ‘He’s making you feel uncomfortable.’
‘No, he’s not. I was joking,’ Will said.
‘But it’s sorude!’ Tina fumed. ‘He can see you’re with me. It’s not what you expect in a place like this.’
Kate would have laughed,Will thought glumly.
* * *
Back at the villa, everyone had drifted out onto the terrace to sit around drinking and smoking over the remains of the dinner.
‘Is there any more food?’ Rory asked, scraping up the last of the dauphinoise potatoes. ‘I’m starving.’
Not satisfied with the hash cake, Owen and Georgie were sharing a gigantic spliff.
‘How do you think I’d look with dreadlocks?’ Owen mused, exhaling the aromatic smoke.
‘Shite,’ Rory told him.
‘I think you’d look lovely,’ Georgie giggled, passing the spliff back to him.
‘I’m thinking of becoming a Rastafarian.’
‘There’s more to it than growing dreadlocks,’ Phoenix said.
‘I know. There’s also the hat – but I’ve already got that. And smoking ganja,’ he added, in a Jamaican accent, waving his spliff in the air.
‘You can’t just get a hat and be a Rastafarian, you twat!’ Rory scoffed.
‘Why not?’ Owen asked. ‘Phoenix got a haircut and became a Buddhist.’
‘I’m not a Buddhist any more.’ Phoenix popped a cold mushroom into his mouth. ‘I didn’t like their position on sex.’
‘Which position was that, then? Missionary?’
‘Worse! Basically you’re not supposed to have any except to have kids.’
‘Christ! Where does that leave you if you’re shooting blanks?’
‘Exactly. Are there any more potatoes, Kate?’
