Bon Voyage Page 17

  ‘What?’ Jemma asked, swinging round in her seat to see what Aimee was looking at, her face breaking into a smile as she saw what had caught her attention. ‘Whoa. Your mam really is making the most of this cruise, isn’t she?’

  ‘I’m going to be having serious words with her when I get back to that ship,’ Aimee said, watching as Marcie and Brendon settled themselves down at an outside table at a bar across the square from Jemma and Aimee. ‘Actually, no. I’m not waiting that long. I’m going to have a word with her now.’

  ‘Aimee!’

  ‘I won’t be long, Jem. I just need to find out what she’s playing at because, I swear, since my dad left her she’s turned into some kind of female gigolo.’

  ‘I thought she only went on all those dates as “research”.’

  ‘Yeah, well, she can’t use that excuse forever. Back in a minute.’

  Aimee strode purposefully across the crowded square, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head as she approached her mother’s table.

  ‘What are you playing at, Mam?’

  Marcie turned round and smiled at her daughter, standing up to give her a hug and an air-kiss on both cheeks. ‘Darling! What a coincidence! Brendon and I thought we’d take a stroll through the beautiful old town this afternoon. He’s just gone to get us a bottle of wine – would you like to join us, sweetheart?’

  ‘And where’s Ricardo?’ Aimee asked, feeling a sudden surreal twist of role-reversal taking over.

  Marcie sat back down, patting her curled pink hair. ‘Will you stop calling him that ridiculous name, Aimee. He’s called Engelbert. And if you must know, he’s had to go and sort out some business while we’re here in Palma. He’s a very high-powered man, you know, with some important connections. He’s friends with a lot of people very high up in the British Consulate.’

  ‘Is he now.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘So, he knows you’re out with Barfly Brendon then, does he?’

  Marcie continued to pat her hair, pursing her lips. ‘We’re engaged to be married, Aimee, darling. We’re not chained to each other.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Mam!’ Aimee sat down opposite Marcie. ‘You can’t get engaged to a man you’ve known all of five minutes. I mean, come on! You met him in the embarkation queue! It was bad enough getting engaged to some bloke off the internet…’

  ‘I’ve told you, that was a genuine mistake. It’s not my fault I believed him when he said he was constantly being mistaken for George Clooney. That photo he sent me showed an unmistakeable likeness.’

  ‘Mam, the photo he sent you was George Clooney. The man who turned up at The Grey Horse to meet you was called Derek, he was a retired steel worker from Ashington and he looked as much like George Clooney as I do.’

  ‘Engelbert isn’t like that, Aimee. He’s the perfect gentleman, and he looks after me. Have I bought one drink on that boat? No. He’s bought them all.’

  ‘It’s an all inclusive ship, Mam. Nobody’s bought any drinks.’

  Marcie reached out across the table and took Aimee’s hand, rubbing it gently. ‘Look, Aimee, sweetheart, I know you’re only worried about me, but I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘You didn’t where Derek from Ashington was concerned.’

  Marcie waved that memory away with the sweep of her hand. ‘This is different, my darling.’

  ‘Is it?’ Aimee asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘I’m a big girl now. And anyway, haven’t you got a little romance of your own to keep you occupied?’

  ‘Maybe. But at least I won’t be rushing off to get married at the drop of a hat.’ But just the thought of getting married to Danny Johnson sent Aimee off into a brief but very pleasant daydream about cream wedding dresses and white rose bouquets and… What was she doing? ‘Look, Mam, will you just think about what you’re getting into here? Please? For me?’

  ‘Aimee, darling, you are such a worrier! Your mother is a woman of the world, I’m a writer…’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Well, nothing, really, I’m just saying that I have my own life, doing what I love, and now I’ve found a wonderful man to settle down with.’

  ‘Not if I’ve got anything to do with it, me darling.’ Brendon’s booming voice signalled his arrival back at the table with a tray of drinks – a pint of Guinness, two bottles of wine, and two glasses that contained something that looked suspiciously like whisky chasers. Were they expecting company? Surely that wasn’t all for them? Had her mam forgotten what had happened in Cassis already?

  ‘Oh, now, Brendon, come on,’ Marcie giggled. Aimee just threw her head back and sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘He’s such a tease!’

  ‘Tease, my arse!’ Brendon boomed.

  Heaven forbid, Aimee thought, shuddering at the image that conjured up.

  ‘He’s no good for you, Marcie,’ Brendon continued, sitting down and proceeding to finish off half the pint of Guinness in one fell swoop. ‘You need a real man. The way he ponces around in that safari suit collection of his…’

  ‘I rather like Engelbert’s safari suits,’ Marcie commented. ‘He’s been to Kenya several times, you know. Had a close encounter with a herd of wildebeest, stroked a giraffe…’

  Aimee stood up, defeated and exhausted and in need of another drink herself.

  ‘I’ll see you back on the ship,’ she sighed, pushing her sunglasses down over her eyes.

  ‘You have a nice afternoon, darling,’ Marcie sing-songed after her.

  ‘And don’t you worry about your old mammy,’ Brendon winked, placing a hand on Marcie’s almost-fluorescent-orange kaftan-covered arm. ‘I’ll talk her out of marrying that other fella.’

  ‘Oh, Brendon,’ Marcie giggled, placing her hand over his. ‘You really are such a tease! And less of the old, I’ve been told I don’t look a day over forty-five.’

  Aimee took that as her cue to escape the insanity and she almost ran back across the square to Jemma, who was busy chatting up a Spanish waiter who looked a lot like a young Keanu Reeves, her chin in her hand as she smiled up at him in that girly, flirty manner she adopted when she was trying to get something for nothing.

  ‘What you after?’ Aimee asked, sitting back down and immediately finishing off her glass of wine.

  ‘Ooh, you are so suspicious, Aimee Anderson.’ Jemma put a hand to her chest in mock offence. ‘But if you must know, he’s bringing us a free bowl of crispy squid and a couple of complimentary Cointreaus.’

  ‘You are bad, Jemma Jordan.’

  ‘It’s a rare talent. So, is the wedding off then?’ Jemma asked, grabbing the last meatball and shoving it in her mouth all in one go, which made her resemble a squirrel with a cheek-full of nuts which in turn made Aimee burst out laughing again.

  ‘You’re so ladylike, Jem. Has Cal got wind of those table manners of yours yet?’

  ‘Believe me, Aimee, I had more in my mouth than a meatball last night.’

  ‘Jemma! Jesus, information over-share there.’

  ‘A million and one fantasies were lived-out in that cabin, you have no idea.’

  ‘No. And I’m not sure I ever want to know either.’

  ‘So, your mam and Booming Brendon over there. What’s the story? Where’s Ricardo?’

  ‘She says he’s off doing some business or something. God knows what that means. But, the engagement is still on, apparently. Although, Brendon doesn’t seem to agree with it. Says he’s going to try and talk her out of it.’

  ‘That’s a good thing then, isn’t it?’ Jemma asked, smiling up at “Keanu” as he arrived with the squid and Cointreau.

  Aimee looked at Jemma, absentmindedly picking up a piece of crispy squid and popping it in her mouth. ‘Do you honestly think she’s going to take any notice of him? She thinks it’s all just one big flirt on his part, which it might be, actually, I have no bloody idea anymore… Did he just slip you his phone number on that napkin?’ Aimee asked as “Keanu” retreated back inside the café, both of them watching his a
rse as he disappeared off into the air-conditioned interior.

  ‘He certainly did,’ Jemma smiled, slipping the napkin into her bag. ‘This cougar-in-waiting strikes again!’

  ‘I swear this holiday really is turning into The Twilight Zone,’ Aimee sighed, reaching into her bag for her phone as it beeped the arrival of another message. From Danny. ‘Danny and the rest of Bon Voyage have just finished filming here in Palma. Him and Cal want to meet up. Are you…? What am I saying, of course you’re up for it. You’re up for anything, apparently.’

  Jemma kicked her under the table. ‘You’re hardly Little-Miss-Innocent yourself, sweetheart.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. You taught me all the bad habits I know, remember? Okay. They’re currently in Carrer Sindicat because, for some reason, the director wanted footage of them buying shoes…’

  ‘Man after my own heart there.’

  ‘So, let’s finish these drinks, meet up with the boys, then you can go do some shoe shopping of your own. Sound good?’

  ‘Sounds very good. Let’s get going, kidda.’

  *

  ‘Isn’t this just stunning?’ Aimee sighed as her and Danny walked slowly along the sea front, hand in hand, stopping briefly to look out to sea, at the MS Atlantica over in the distance, the calm waters of the Mediterranean stretching before them in a seemingly endless blanket of blue as behind them the city’s traffic sped past and the imposing Cathedral loomed over them. Palma truly was an impressive and beautiful city, made even more beautiful when shared with someone as gorgeous and sexy as Danny Johnson.

  ‘It’s a great city, you can’t deny that,’ Danny said, slipping his hand back into hers as they continued to walk along the palm-tree-lined sea front. ‘And I’ve had another amazing afternoon.’

  ‘Me too,’ Aimee smiled, stopping again to quickly kiss him. God, she was getting a bit brave, wasn’t she? Up until now he’d always been the one to kiss her first and yet here she was instigating this kiss. Must be all the wine she was drinking at lunch times. ‘I’ve had a fabulous afternoon, thank you.’

  ‘And at least you didn’t drag me round shoe shops.’

  Aimee laughed, leaning into him as they started walking again, back towards the port. It wasn’t a particularly short walk but it was late afternoon now and the heat of the day had died down a little, and anyway, she was in no hurry. ‘I can’t imagine how poor Cal’s coping,’ Aimee smiled. ‘Because once Jemma starts shopping for shoes there’s no telling when she might stop.’

  Danny laughed too, pulling her closer against him as they walked, quickly kissing the top of her head. He was so glad, so grateful that they had another week of this cruise left because he was only just beginning to realise exactly what it was that he was looking for out of life. Danny Johnson wanted to be in love. Because Danny Johnson had never really been in love. Oh, he’d loved Davina, but he’d never really been in love with her, and there was a difference. He knew that now. Being here, with Aimee, with this wonderfully ordinary, extraordinary woman, it only proved to him something that he’d already really known all along. He’d had a great life, he’d had some amazing experiences, but – at the age of forty-one – Danny Johnson had never been in love. And maybe now it was time to change that.

  ‘Now who’s the one to drift off into a world of their own,’ Aimee smiled, kick-starting him back to reality.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ he laughed, stopping to pull her into his arms, swinging her round until she screamed at him to stop, laughing out loud as she clung onto him.

  ‘Danny! What is wrong with you?’ she giggled, almost out of breath.

  He pulled her against him, briefly looking out at the stunning view before him. He was in a beautiful city with a beautiful woman, and it felt more liberating than he could ever have imagined. He was positive that nothing could darken his mood today, not even Andy Crabtree and everything he had to hide. No, today was going to be a happy day. A happy night. A happy rest-of-his-life if he had anything to do with it. Where his future with Bon Voyage lay was still something he had yet to work out, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy being with Aimee. And if being with Aimee meant giving up that second chance of pop stardom then so be it, because he was not about to make the same mistakes again. He wanted this relationship to work. And he didn’t want anything else to get in the way of that happening.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong with me,’ he smiled, gently stroking her fringe from her eyes, kissing the tip of her nose, then her mouth. ‘I’m just in an extremely good mood today.’

  ‘I’d never have guessed,’ Aimee smiled back, stroking the back of his neck with her fingertips. She was slowly getting used to finding herself staring into the incredible blue eyes of Danny Johnson – pop star. Slowly.

  ‘And it’s all because of you, Aimee Anderson. It’s all because of you.’

  She felt as though she was going to explode, such was the huge bubble of happiness inside her. A volcano of happiness, that’s what it felt like. A big, bubbling volcano of happiness. She was here on this amazing holiday with this amazing man who was saying amazing things to her. How could she not be happy?

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, closing her eyes as he kissed her, long and slow and deep and once again she felt her legs turn to jelly, her insides churning up and those butterflies were flying loose again all around her stomach. ‘Thank you, for making me realise, for making me believe – for making me forget. Thank you for making me happy again.’

  Another kiss. Another round of jelly-legs and mushy insides and butterflies that just didn’t want to take a nap.

  ‘I say we go back to the boat and make the most of the fact that Cal and Jemma have given us a free cabin. What do you say?’ Danny smiled.

  Aimee smiled too; she couldn’t stop smiling. ‘I’d say, what are we waiting for?’

  *

  The main atrium area was a mass of existing holidaymakers arriving back from their various excursions and day trips, and new arrivals trying to get their bearings, but Aimee was beginning to love the whole atmosphere of a cruise holiday – that initial excitement you felt when you first boarded the ship, the feel of being somewhere new and different every day. And even though she’d been aboard for a week now, the start of this second week felt like a brand new holiday for Aimee because so many things had happened since she’d first walked up that gangway. So many things had changed. She’d walked onto this ship last week someone who was determined to use this holiday to forget about her ex-fiancé, someone who was still hurting – even after two months; someone who was desperate to have a good time, if only to put behind her everything that had happened. And now, one week on, as far as forgetting all the bad memories, and having a good time – all those things she’d hoped this holiday would help her achieve, well, they’d happened. And now all she had to do was continue having a good time with a man she could only ever have dreamt of meeting just a week ago. And she’d dreamt many a time of meeting him. Many, many a time.

  ‘I’ve never seen it so busy,’ Danny exclaimed as they walked through the main atrium, zigzagging their way through the mass of people gathered near the reception desk.

  ‘Well, you were probably led in via some secret, hidden entrance or other last week, were you?’ Aimee asked, clinging onto his waist as they stopped for a second to check out the menu for Sirocco’s.

  ‘Actually, no. Aimee, we’re not exactly The Beatles. When we boarded this ship last week no bugger knew who we were. When we walked through this atrium nobody batted an eyelid. And to be fair, it’s still that way now because the only people who really care who we are are you, Jemma and that mad psycho fan club of ours.’

  ‘And it was a good job you’d boarded the ship before the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade, otherwise you’d probably have been lucky to get to your cabins alive.’

  ‘Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade?’

  ‘The mad psycho fan club,’ Aimee laughed, standing on tip-toe to kiss him quickly.

  ‘Well, well. Doesn’t this look cosy?’

>   The sound of that voice almost made Danny’s blood run cold. Was he dreaming? Because it couldn’t be her, surely? Could it? What the hell would she be doing here? He slowly turned to see if his worst fear was about to be confirmed, quickly letting go of Aimee as he realised that voice did indeed belong to his worst nightmare – his hopefully-soon-to-be-ex-wife.

  ‘Davina… what the hell…?’

  ‘Am I doing here?’ Davina Black stood there, large-as-life and twice as false in the middle of the main atrium clad in a baby-pink playsuit and gold Gladiator sandals, over-sized sunglasses perched on top of her bleached-blond hair, her arms folded underneath her very-surgically-enhanced chest. ‘Well, the thing is, Danny…’ She stopped to give Aimee the once-over, looking her up and down, sporting an expression that only made her fairly pretty – if not slightly over-fake-tanned – face look hard.

  Aimee couldn’t actually move. She was rooted to the spot, unsure whether this was really happening or whether it was just some horrible, unwelcome nightmare that had come to interrupt the perfect day she’d been having. Yeah, she’d wake up in a minute and find out that her and Danny had just fallen asleep after a particularly frantic session of late afternoon sex.

  But then somebody else appeared by Davina’s side that told Aimee this really was a nightmare, but not one they were going to wake up from anytime soon, because this one was really happening.

  ‘Robbie… I… What… what are you doing here?’

  Robbie looked briefly at Davina before turning his attention back to Aimee. ‘I’m here for the same reason Davina’s here, Aimee. I’ve come to say I’m sorry…’

  He looked at Davina, who was still standing with her arms folded and a determined look on her face. ‘And I’m here to save my marriage.’

  7:35pm

  ‘Have you been buying shoes all this time?’ Aimee asked, swinging round on her stool at the bar in Hemingway’s, downing the last of her second Manhattan. ‘Honestly, the one time I could really do with you here to talk to…’