I listen out, but the noise has stopped.
Something must have dropped, that’s all. I debate whether or not to go and investigate when the heaviness of sleep overwhelms me again.
Sixteen
Chloe
May 20, 2023
I wake up boiling in a puddle of my own sweat. Above me, the air conditioning has stopped working, a stubborn orange light on display.
“Jesus Christ.” I reach my hand for the bedside table when I remember my phone isn’t there. From the view outside, the sky is bright blue, indicating I’ve slept in.
No matter. I take my time in the shower, giving my hair a long time to condition, and shriek when I take my towel off the rack and find a spider on the wall next to it.
“Fucking island!” I shake my towel out again and again before drying myself with caution, checking every five seconds that the spider hasn’t jumped on. I can hear the others now, chatting and eating, so I leave my hair to drip dry and throw on a sundress and sandals. Not like I can do my makeup anyway.
They’re over by the decking, having breakfast. Someone has gone to the trouble of offering a full spread, a mixture of croissants and toast and hot food for those with stronger stomachs, and yoghurt and granola and fruit for those like me who can’t face eating a huge meal right now after last night. Esther is looking the most fresh and ready for the day, while Tanya sits vacant and tired. Annabel is nowhere to be seen, and Poppy is at the head of the table with sunglasses on so it’s hard to see how she’s recovered from the night before, but maybe that’s an indication. She’s also overdressed for the occasion, wearing a sparkly long-sleeved top that would do better on a night out than the morning after.
Poppy nods at me as I sit down. “Good morning, Chloe.”
“What time is it?” I ask, spooning myself some yoghurt.
“Late.” Poppy pours me some juice without incident, though I find I’m holding my breath until she’s done. “Almost eleven. I was about to come and wake you.”
“Sorry.” I take a sip. “You lot have been up for a while then?”
Esther can’t resist an opportunity to brag about how much of an early riser she is, nor how fit and active. “I was up since seven, which is late for me. Had a long run, then a swim in the sea to cool off. It’s been a nice morning. Quite peaceful, actually, by myself.”
Tanya rolls her eyes, but Esther’s facing me so she can’t see. I have to hide a smile, though looking at Tanya is enough to make me serious again anyway. She looks even worse than she did yesterday, kind of sweaty and pale, as if she was the one who went for a run. And she keeps sniffing, though I don’t think she realises it.
“Sorry I’m late!”
Annabel comes hurrying across the decking, flip-flops clacking against the wood. She’s wearing a floaty sundress with amazing floral patterns on. A dress I know for a fact costs almost two grand, because I wore it in a campaign I was in a few months ago.
How the hell is Annabel affording that? Andrew barely gives her enough to buy food shopping, let alone a luxury wardrobe.
It’s pretty impressive. Maybe there’s a bit more to Annabel than meets the eye, some of her old self still in there and not just the boring housewife she’s become.
I’m about to ask when Annabel starts speaking again. “What a night, right? I remember us dancing to Britney.”
“Hard not to do.” Esther laughs. “We need to take it easier tonight.”
“You’ve all got your wonderful gin to share,” Poppy says. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
“Oh, God,” Annabel groans. “I don’t think I can handle another night. We’re not eighteen anymore.”
It’s a harmless comment, but I cringe thinking about it. We’re not eighteen anymore, and with Poppy sitting at the table with us, I don’t want to be reminded of what we did when we were that age.
“What’s the plan for today, Poppy?” I ask to move the subject along quickly.
She lowers her sunglasses. “You’ll see. First, enjoy your breakfast.”
We spend the next hour or so making conversation. Even though I was feeling rough this morning, I’ve perked up, and help myself to a croissant. There’s a more relaxed atmosphere to us all now after the awkwardness of yesterday. It feels like we might just enjoy this hen party and have some fun.
I keep on thinking this, oblivious when Poppy says she’ll be right back, unquestioning when she brings the wooden box with our phones in it to the table.
“Oh, brilliant,” I say. “I have so much I need to catch up on. And loads of pictures I want to take. What made you change your mind?”
“Well, I guess I can see how many emails I can try and download without Wi-Fi,” Esther says. She bites her lip. “And reply to Brad.”
Poppy shakes her head. “No, that’s not why I’ve brought your phones out.”
“Well, why then? Is something wrong?”
“It’s time the truth was laid bare,” Poppy says. “I’ve spent a couple of days with you all now, and you’re the same as ever.”
An uncomfortable feeling begins to prick itself across the back of my neck. “What do you mean?”
“I figured I should give you all a chance.” Poppy unlocks the box with her key and opens it up. “But there’s no change. You’re all petty, selfish, and materialistic. As you always have been.”
Tanya sighs. “I knew it. I knew there was a catch.”
Annabel looks confused. “But this is a hen party. What were you expecting from us?”
“If you think that about us, why bother inviting us?” I snap. “Why go through with this whole holiday, to a private island no less, if you were just checking to see if we were the same as when you knew us before? What’s the point?”
“That is the right question, Chloe.” Poppy smiles at me, removing her sunglasses. There’s a wildness to her expression, something she was hiding well before. “My four dearest friends, the women who made me what I am today. Why would I invite you all to this private island when a weekend somewhere nice in England would do?”
“We don’t have to listen to this,” Tanya says.
“The problem is you do, because you have nowhere else to go,” Poppy says. “And I’m going to make sure you all listen, because you know why I’ve brought you here.”
“Jesus Christ.” I stamp my foot on the ground. “This isn’t because of something that happened ten years ago, is it? You can’t still be harbouring a grudge over all of that. The pathetic scavenger hunt was bad enough. This is just a new low, going into our phones. I thought this was meant to be a technology-free holiday. You’re insane.”
Her face darkens, and there’s a moment when I think she may come for me. Aggression spikes her features, then a second later she’s relaxed again.
“Annabel,” she says, choosing to ignore me. “Do you remember when you told me I’d end up sad and alone?”
“Don’t listen to this shit,” Tanya says.
“That would have been when we were kids,” Annabel says. She folds her arms across her chest, unperturbed. “Trust you to remember something like that.”
“Kids!” Poppy laughs. “Technically, you were eighteen and I was seventeen. That makes one of us a kid, I suppose. You told me I’d end up sad and alone, and when I died no one would bother to mourn me at my funeral apart from my mum and dad and—” Her voice breaks, betraying her true feelings, and she has to clear her throat. “And my sister. That no one would ever love me. You must remember. Chloe even brought it up this very holiday that she thought I was so desperate to be loved I’d go with anyone.”
I want to hide behind something. It was a joke. Sort of.
Poppy continues, even though Annabel is staring at the ground, cheeks blushing. “So I thought to myself, how can I get back at Annabel Hannigan? Well, you’re not Annabel Hannigan anymore. You’re Annabel Dixon. And therein lay an idea. Andrew is very good looking, isn’t he?”
Annabel jerks her head up, stricken. Even Tanya has lost her scowl and looks stunned.
Poppy isn’t saying what I think she is, is she?
She’s enjoying herself now, clicking Annabel’s screen on and off. Annabel’s background, a picture of her and Andrew on their wedding day, seems to add to the torture. “He was so easy. He drinks at the same bar after work every night. You know he finishes at five and not seven, don’t you?”
“Are you making a point or just rambling?” Annabel asks.
“Getting there,” Poppy says. “I was going to sleep with your husband, Annabel, I’ll be blunt. Or, well, I was going to make you think I had. Bring him up to the hotel room I’d booked above the bar, take a photo of us together, send it to you. But by the time I got there, he was already with another woman. He was with another woman every single night I tried.”