Page 57 of The Trip of a Lifetime

‘What’s done is done,’ I said in a throwaway comment. I really didn’t want to dredge that up again. I was beginning to feel a little hot and probably needed some more of those painkillers.

‘That morning, on our last day in Madrid, I packed up my bags and left my room to come to yours. I hoped we’d be crossing that finish line together. I wasn’t prepared to let you out of my sight on that last leg to Barcelona and I was fired up for the race. But I knew you hadn’t wanted us to spend the whole night together. I remember you insisting I leave as you were paranoid your parents would see footage of us leaving your room in the morning at the same time. It was sweet really. I waited until you’d fallen asleep and then reluctantly left; went back to my room.’

I was going to interrupt and give him my version of events but what he was saying was true, I remembered. It was time to go back there and to hear all of what actually happened.

‘When I was ready, I walked past your room and went down to reception alone to keep up appearances. My cameraman was waiting for me. You remember we only had one producer back then and I had no idea where he was but everyone else had left. I wasn’t surprised. Femi, Bob and Priya had come in before us the previous day and I knew we’d be bringing up the rear. Then I saw Sergio. You remember the guy who operated the old lift? The one you never wanted to get in and took the stairs instead?’

I nodded, keen for him to keep going as I now had the picture of that hotel firmly back in my mind.

‘He told me you’d left. I didn’t believe him and said I was going up to your room to check. My cameraman – I cannot remember his name – said we had to go. He didn’t want us to miss the train. Do you remember what a shambles it all was back then. Camera operators catching what they could, no one really assigned to any single contestant and there was that one who’d gone home, ill. No one was waiting for you, I realised, and I took that to mean that you might well have gone. My guy wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me. Still, I took the lift back up to your floor and went to your room and you weren’t there. I don’t mind telling you I was a bit gutted you hadn’t waited for me but at that point I just assumed I’d catch you up at the station. And then you weren’t there either. The producer told me you’d probably splashed out on a taxi or got a lift. No one thought you’d been left behind and they convinced me you’d just taken another route so you could get ahead.’

‘I didn’t!’ I said.

‘I know that now, but you wouldn’t talk to me after the end of the race. I assumed you’d had a change of heart. Maybe you’d regretted what we’d done. I remember being a bit of a twat about it. I was hurt. In fact, it was the hurt that saw me over the finish line in first place.’

‘It didn’t occur to you I might be lost?’ I said.

‘What, Martha, lost? No, it didn’t occur to me at all. You were so driven and the best racer of all of us. I assumed you’d gone for the win and was amazed you weren’t over the finish line when I got there. I thought you’d be grinning at me and waving your cheque for a thousand pounds in my face and I’d have forgiven you.’

‘How generous of you,’ I said sardonically.

‘All you said was you missed the train and then refused to talk to me about it. What happened, Martha?’

‘I woke up and forgot about our agreement and was disappointed not to find you next to me,’ I said, all pretence of pride or modesty gone. It was time to lay it all out, even how I felt about it. ‘I got my stuff together and took the stairs up to your room but you weren’t there. I was about to go down to reception and I saw Sergio. He told me that you were waiting for me at the bus station, that there had been a change of plan in the train times or something and you’d gone ahead to buy tickets so we wouldn’t miss the opportunity for seats.’

‘Sergio, again,’ Harrison said. ‘The little shit.’

‘Yes, but why? When I realised you weren’t at the bus station and that I’d missed the train you were all on, I went back to the hotel and do you know what he told me when I confronted him?’

‘Enlighten me,’ he said without a hint of humour.

‘He told me you’d paid him to give me misinformation.’

‘What!’ Harrison got off his bed in an agitated hurry and then didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He stood stock-still in the middle of the room. ‘I can tell you I didn’t.’

‘I believe you,’ I said and it was true, I did believe him.

‘But it doesn’t explain why he would do that,’ said Harrison.

‘Do you think the producer would have got him to say it, to liven things up a bit?’

‘No,’ Harrison said. ‘I don’t think he was smart enough to have pulled off something like that. Maybe Sergio was just having a bit of fun himself. It was a long time ago; we were so young.’

He looked wistful then and I thought it was time to let it all go. It was done, what did it matter now we had the truth back between us?

‘We had such a lot of fun,’ he said and then he moved and made his way towards me.

This was absolutely not happening, I thought, and took a step closer to the window but he actually went to the table and poured himself some more juice.

‘Do you want some?’ he asked me and I nodded.

‘Yes, please.’

He handed me a glass and then sat back down at the table to begin picking over the breakfast again.

‘So, can we agree it was all Sergio’s fault and forget all about it?’ he said between mouthfuls of croissant.

‘I thought you said it was the single most wonderful moment of your life,’ I said with a smile. ‘I doubt you’ll ever be able to forget all about it.’