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‘I know,’ sighed Jess, ‘this is the best week of my year. I already don’t want it to end, and we haven’t even started yet. Trish, you OK?’
Trish gave a small snore, her mouth hanging open. Their flight from Gatwick had left at 7 a.m., so they’d all been up at the crack of dawn. Much as Hannah couldn’t wait to get on the tennis court tomorrow, it was nice to lie in the sun and doze with nowhere else to be.
‘Where are we going tonight?’ asked Gaynor.
‘It’s Saturday night,’ said Jess, not even opening her eyes. ‘Dinner in the hotel at eight, then we’re off out to Marbella. I’ve got a taxi picking us up at nine thirty.’
Gaynor yawned and turned her head to Hannah. ‘Jess is our organiser,’ she said. ‘Every girls’ trip needs one. We go wherever she says.’
‘Fine by me.’ Hannah sat up and adjusted the straps on her new bikini. ‘It’s what I do for a living, so I’m very happy to have a week off.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Jess, suddenly alert. ‘You can take over if you want.’
Hannah smiled and said nothing, feeling like she was starting to get a handle on each of these three women. She’d had a few catch-ups with them over the past couple of weeks, mostly drinks in the pub after training so they could make plans. Jess was the mother figure of the three, and whilst she moaned about taking responsibility for bookings and taxis and calculating the four-way split of the bill, it was clear she actually revelled in how essential she was to the smooth running of this trip. Gaynor was happy to go with the flow as long as she had booze and good company along the way – based on what Hannah had seen so far, Gaynor was likely to be the last one standing, probably on a bar lip-synching to Beyoncé, using an empty wine bottle as a microphone. Trish was the unpredictable one, prone to pouty sulking if things weren’t going her way – Hannah had seen that side to her on the tennis court plenty of times. Everyone smoothed the path for Trish because she was adorable and funny, and you couldn’t help but love her. Hannah hadn’t quite worked out yet if that was natural charm or pure manipulation, so was on her guard as far as Trish was concerned.
She stood up and stretched, relishing the warmth of the stone tiles underfoot as she walked to the wide steps at the shallow end of the large, glistening pool. Her new bikini fitted perfectly, with a pink and orange crop top that was pretty much exactly like a sports bra, paired with matching bikini pants that covered most of her bum. There were a dozen or so other loungers occupied round the pool, mostly couples or other women; the hotel didn’t cater for children. Nobody was paying her any attention; they were all just happy to be on holiday away from the spring rain in the UK.
‘You have such an amazing body,’ muttered Gaynor, following her to the water. ‘Mine used to look like yours before I pushed out two kids.’
‘Same,’ said Jess, joining them both. ‘Now I’ve got stretch marks and a fanny like a string bag.’ They all sat on the warm step with their feet in the water, sunglasses on and their faces tilted towards the sun. ‘You have nice feet too,’ she added, looking at Hannah’s freshly painted pink toes dabbling in the water. ‘Mine have been trashed by killer heels.’
‘I’ve never worn heels,’ said Hannah with a smile. ‘My friend Sam persuaded me to buy some, just low ones, but I’m still not sure I can walk in them.’
‘You’ve never worn heels?’ exclaimed Gaynor. ‘Not even on your wedding day?’
‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘I wore ballet flats.’
‘All right, Jane Austen,’ Gaynor snorted. ‘What else is frowned upon in that church of yours?’
Hannah scowled and shook her head. ‘It’s notmychurch, hasn’t been for a long time.’
‘OK, but growing up,’ pressed Gaynor, her eyes glittering. ‘What weren’t you allowed to do?’
‘There was an actual list of forbidden things,’ replied Hannah with an awkward smile, holding out her hand so she could tick them off on her fingers. ‘Let’s see. Tight or revealing clothing, tattoos, piercings, alcohol, smoking, drugs, swearing, make-up, sex before marriage. Oh, and masturbation.’
‘What, no wanking?’ said Jess, her eyes boggling. ‘Including the men?’
‘Hold on, I’m coming,’ said Trish, shaking herself out of her nap and hauling herself off her sun lounger. ‘Don’t you dare have this conversation without me.’ She hurried over and joined the other three on the wide steps, their feet cooling in the shallows. The late-afternoon sun made Hannah’s skin tingle.
‘I think masturbation was fine for the men. But it was considered sinful for women.’
‘Typical,’ said Jess.
‘Fuck, have you seen the view?’ gasped Trish, grabbing Hannah’s arm as a group of men strolled down the side of the pool towards them. They moved in one fluid group, like cheetahs filmed in slow-motion on a wildlife documentary.
‘That’s the coaching team,’ said Jess. ‘I recognise a couple of them from last time.’
‘I swear to God they get younger every year,’ muttered Gaynor. ‘Do you think being insanely hot is part of the job description?’ She raised her hand as the man at the front of the group smiled in greeting, before turning into the glass doors to the hotel. ‘What was his name? Olly, I think.’
‘One of them’s Olly and one of them’s Chris,’ said Jess. ‘But I can’t remember which one is which. The blonde guy Jonno, he coached us when we were last here. Welsh.’
‘Sorry, can we please take a moment to acknowledge the tall guy with the dark hair at the back?’ said Trish. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s new.’
‘Can you guys hear yourselves?’ laughed Hannah, who had struggled to take her eyes off the tall guy too, not that she was going to mention it. He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses so she couldn’t see much of his face, but everything from the neck down was pretty impressive. ‘You’re practically drooling.’
‘She’s right,’ said Trish gloomily, dragging herself away from the parade of superior manhood as they disappeared into the hotel. ‘Let’s get back to Hannah and her weird rules. No wanking or booze or piercings or tight clothes? You’ve left all that behind though, right?’
Hannah nodded. ‘Pretty much. I’ve got pierced ears, and I drink sometimes. Love a bit of Lycra for sport, which was never OK when I was a teenager.’
