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We sit in silence for a while, sipping our champagne. The beach is in complete darkness now, and the only lights come from the moon and the downlighters illuminating the paths. The last few guests are making their way back to their rooms from whatever evening entertainment has been laid on. The air feels heavy, and soon the first fat raindrops start to fall.
‘Time to beat a retreat, I think,’ Ed says. ‘When it rains here, it really throws it down.’
He’s not wrong. He dims the lights once we’re inside, and we watch through the window as a storm of biblical proportions comes in from the sea. The rain falls in curtains, and there is thunder and lightning overhead.
‘I love watching lightning,’ I say. ‘It’s like Mother Nature is reminding us who’s really in charge. When I was small, I’d always open my curtains and watch if there was a thunderstorm. I used to enjoy counting the time between seeing the flash and hearing the thunder, to try to work out how far away it was. I still do, actually.’
‘You know what this means though?’ Ed replies. ‘It means you’re stuck here with me for the night. Unless you fancy getting soaked and want to take the risk of being struck by lightning on your way back?’
I snuggle into him. ‘I can think of worse places to be. Just make sure you wake me up and boot me out early enough in the morning so that I can get back to my room before Mum and Dad notice I’m not there. The last thing we need is them on our case.’
‘Deal,’ he replies. ‘What about the massage? Shall I ring and book us in?’
‘Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea.’
Ed crosses to the phone and rings reception. After a short conversation, he comes back and sits down next to me. ‘They had a slot at ten in the morning, so I booked that. I hope that’s OK?’
We finish our champagne and head back into the bedroom. I climb in under the covers and we lie there, facing each other. I pull him close for a hug and feel something pressing into me.
‘I see you’ve recovered.’ I smile as I reach down and stroke him softly. ‘It would be a shame to waste it.’
He rolls me onto my back and starts kissing his way down my neck again.
‘My thoughts exactly.’
18
Ed is as good as his word, and I find myself doing the walk of shame at seven the next morning. I say walk, but it’s more of a hobble. The muscles in my arms and legs are protesting wildly with every step, but I’m still smiling from the memories of the evening before. There’s no sign of my parents as I slot the key in and open the door to my room as quietly as I can. Once I’m inside, I quickly draw the curtains to make it look as if I’ve been there all night. I’d love to soak in a bath to soothe my aching limbs, but I don’t have time for that if I’m going to have breakfast with Mum and Dad, so I quickly strip off and step into the shower.
There is the faintest whiff of Ed’s aftershave hanging in the room as I come out of the shower, which I trace to the top I was wearing last night. I can’t help myself; I pick it up and breathe in deeply, causing flutters to ripple through my stomach. By eight, I’m washed, dressed and ready to go.
‘Good grief, Charlotte, what on earth have you done to yourself?’ my mother exclaims as I limp after them towards the restaurant.
‘I think I’ve overdone it with water-skiing and windsurfing, that’s all,’ I reply. ‘I’m going to have a massage a bit later, which will hopefully help, and then I’m probably going to lie on the beach and take it easy today. Give my body a chance to recover.’
‘And how was your evening last night? Ed said he’d planned a surprise for you. Was it nice?’
What to say? If I tell them I was in his room, Mum will draw all sorts of (correct) conclusions that I don’t want her to, but if I invent something it might all unravel later and catch me out. I decide to tell the truth, but leave out some of the details, such as the fact that I was in his room. Oh, and the fact that we had sex, obviously.
‘It was lovely. Ed arranged a special dinner for me because one of the experiences from his honeymoon that I wanted to try was the picnic, but that’s arranged by the production company so we couldn’t do it. The dinner was his idea of a substitute.’ I fill her in on the details of what we ate and drank, but carefully leave out the location.
‘I hope you managed to get back before the storm came in,’ Dad says. ‘That was quite something.’
‘Yes, I was safely tucked up in bed, thank goodness.’ Just not in my bed.
After breakfast, I go back to Ed’s room and sit on the balcony while he finishes getting ready. He’s just as sore as me, so we stagger together down to the spa for our massage.
‘Goodness me, what have you two been up to?’ the therapist asks as we arrive. Once we’ve explained, she goes to get her colleague and I hear them chatting in low voices.
‘OK,’ she says when they both return, ‘I’m Barbara and this is my colleague, Ruby, and we’ll be doing your couple’s massage today. Normally the couple’s massage is an aromatherapy massage. It does help to relax your muscles and joints, but we’ve just been having a chat and we think you two would actually benefit more from a sports massage. It’s a bit more intense than the aromatherapy massage, but it will do you more good. What do you say?’
We agree, and they lead us to the treatment room where there are two massage beds laid out next to each other.
‘We’ll leave you here to get ready,’ Barbara explains. ‘You just need to strip down to your underwear – you can leave your clothes on the chairs there – and lie face down on the beds. There’s a little towel on each bed to cover yourself with, and you can see a hole that you can stick your face into to be more comfortable. Charlotte, you’ll need to remove your bra, if that’s OK.’
They retreat and Ed and I start to undress. Even after everything we did together last night, it still seems slightly awkward to be undressing in front of him, and I can see he’s having a slight arousal issue as I take off my bra and put it with my other clothes.
‘Stop looking at me,’ I tell him, ‘and think about your great-aunt Mildred instead.’
