‘Well, if nothing else, it’d be better Instagramming from there than dinner with Mum and Dad, then your room. Don’t be a pain, we booked the table ages ago.’
I sighed, all of that was true, but still… ‘You don’t need me,’ I grumbled. ‘You’ve got India and Bea to keep you company.’ I thought crossly about the insanely annoying daughters of Mum and Dad’s long-term friends and regular holiday partners, Lindsey and Chris. Both sets of parents had hundreds of photos of me and Bea from age about eighteen months; holding hands, looking confused at the camera, being forced to kiss each other ‘cutely’. Fifteen years later Bea had got on board with their plan, but I wasn’t quite so enthused. In fact, I’d had it with two weeks’ worth of trying to avoid her lingering looks over the loungers and suggestive licking of ice creams, to say nothing of both girls’ appalling attempts at banter. They looked all right but their craic stank.
‘Bea isn’t going unless you go. India won’t go unless Bea goes, and I WANT to go – so you’re coming,’ Ruby said firmly. ‘Come on, I do favours for you, now it’s my turn. I’m asking you to go to a club, for crying out loud!’ She turned round and pointed at the door. ‘Go and get ready. Café Del Mar for sunset, then dinner with the olds, maybe the strip for a little bit of kitsch value, then in Pacha for midnight.’
I sighed and did as I was told.
In fact, by quarter past ten, I was only too pleased to have an excuse to get away from the parentals. Dad was loudly pissed after a long, boozy meal. As the four of us stood up to leave, there was lots of ‘don’t you all look lovely?’ and ‘stay together and stay safe’ from Mum and Lindsey, while Chris and Dad told me to ‘look after the girls’. Dad was giving me loads of hugs and roughly ruffling my hair using his knuckles, which hurt, but I refused to say anything.
‘Isn’t my boy handsome?’ he said, loudly, to the other tables and my embarrassment. ‘He’s going to be a model. He gets it from me, of course.’ He and Chris guffawed, and Ruby looked at her watch before saying sharply: ‘Put him down, Dad. We need to go.’
‘All right, all right. Here.’ Dad reached into his wallet and pulled out a wodge of fifty euro notes. ‘Have a good time, kids.’ He only did it to wind up Chris. He had to be the alpha male, but I took them quickly nonetheless.
‘Thanks, Dad. See you in the morning.’
‘Bright and early for the last breakfast!’ He held his arms open wide and smiled at his disciples beatifically. It really was like watching the second coming of Christ. If Jesus wore Paul Smith, had sunburn and was a complete wanker.
As we made our way to the strip, I thought about Alex. She was here somewhere, right now… but I dismissed it just as quickly. It was way too busy to bump into anyone by chance, the odds would have to be really small and, in any case, I wasn’t going there any more.
I started posting a few pictures on Instagram with #Pachatradition and got a message immediately from Cherry saying:
This is awesome! More!
Encouraged, I uploaded again outside Pacha’s VIP entrance before we went in and then from our table once we’d been escorted to it. I quickly got quite a few likes, which felt really good. We got a bottle of vodka on the go, then I decided to go for a wander as Bea was getting frisky.
I happily went up to the roof terrace for some air and to watch the girl in the glass, but after a quick drink headed off left, to the Funky Room, en route to the Main Room. As I walked down, I had the feeling someone was watching me, but when I turned and looked into the sea of strangers’ faces, there was no one I knew.
I couldn’t shake it, however, and spun round again, looking through a brief break in the crowd to see Alex standing there, holding a drink and her phone, and staring back at me. Even despite the lights, I could tell she was pretty pissed. She was doing that drunk thing of trying to stand up tall and act normal, but as she flicked her hair, she slopped her drink out of the glass and stumbled. I thought she was going to properly fall over, so hurried across to her and took it from her hand.
‘Do I know you?’ She giggled and put her arms round my neck.
I pulled back for a moment, but then realised she was acting out her ‘fantasy’ she’d described in the surgery car park. I looked around but it didn’t look like she was with any of the people nearby.
‘My name is Alex.’ Then she mumbled something unintelligible.
‘What did you say?’ I couldn’t really hear her over the music, so bent down closer.
‘My name is Alex,’ she said louder, right next to my ear.
‘Yes, I know.’ I tried to keep my cool. ‘How did you find me?’
‘I didn’t, it’s fate!’ she said delightedly and let go of me with one hand, swayed dangerously and held up her phone, while putting a finger to her lips. ‘You put pictures up!’
Fucking Instagram.
She laughed again as she lost her balance and grabbed onto me for support, hands tightly clasping round my neck as I put my hand on her waist to steady her and tried to hold onto her glass. She quickly leant in and kissed me. I started to try and pull back, but she was leaning into me so much we both staggered a bit. Finally, I managed to get her standing up properly, but her expression had changed.
‘I don’t feel so good,’ she said, and put her hand up to her mouth.
I looked around in alarm. Where the hell were her mates? ‘Alex, who are you here with?’
‘What?’ She was struggling to hear me.
‘WHO ARE YOU HERE WITH?’
She closed her eyes briefly, and I saw her stomach heave. Oh shit – she was going to puke.
She put a frightened hand out to me. ‘I need some air. I’m too hot. Can you take me outside, please?’
I didn’t have any choice. We wove our way through the crowds and eventually pushed out onto the street in a blast, several people staring at us, amused. She staggered, and I thought she was going to throw up on one of the palm trees, but she seemed to steady a bit when she started breathing in the clearer air and visibly sobered up, before beginning to push through the crowds and apparently walk off down the street.
‘What are you doing?’ I said, following her. ‘You can’t just go off on your own?’
‘I need to go back to my hotel. I don’t feel so good. I’m going to get a taxi, that’s all.’ She held out a hand defensively and carried on. I could see immediately she was one of those really annoying pissed people who looks in control, but isn’t, won’t listen to a word anyone says, thinks they’re sober – then randomly steps out into the road and gets instantly flattened by a car.
I sighed crossly and went after her. ‘I’ll help you find one, hang on.’
Luckily, it was so early we didn’t have any problems, and, even better, her hotel was only ten minutes away. I didn’t exactly have her down as a San An girl. She sprawled in all over the back seat when I opened the door though, dress riding right up. I glanced at the taxi driver looking in his mirror at her and I thought about how I’d feel if some strange bloke looked at Mum or Ruby like that. I couldn’t leave her in the car on her own.
‘Fucking hell, Alex!’ I said furiously and got in next to her. She instantly leant on me and closed her eyes, snuggling in. I messaged Ruby en route to tell her I’d bumped into a pissed friend and was taking them to their hotel – and she messaged back to say Bea was in a right state out of nowhere; crying and wanting to go, so they were going to have to take her back.
What a mare! Should have listened to you and not bothered with Pacha!! Message me when you’re back so I know you’re safe.
I slid my phone back into my pocket, wondered what Bea had lost the plot over and hoped it had nothing to do with seeing Alex’s attempt to get off with me. That was going to be fun to explain in the morning.