Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2) (12 page)

Sitting in the back of a very hot taxi, I try desperately to stop the hundreds of butterflies that are fluttering like crazy in my queasy stomach. This is far worse than being sat in the dentist’s chair and hearing the dreaded drill. Why did I even agree to this? I knew I should have stuck to my instincts and gone straight to the bloody airport. I know running away from the problem won’t make it go away, but I hate confrontation. I have always been the one who buries her head in the sand and hopes for the best. I could have been drowning my sorrows in duty free gin and tonic right now.

We have been driving for around five minutes and with each passing second I feel more and more nauseas. Janie on the other hand, now appears perfectly calm. Fanning herself with a map of Cancun, she is totally oblivious of my impending panic attack. Her vow of silence is actually really unnerving. Only half an hour ago she was ready to kick down the door. What is she planning to do?

A tiny voice in the back of mind tells me that this was always going to happen. For the past year, I have felt incredibly lucky that Oliver chose me. A man who could turn heads the second he entered a room and take his pick of all the women in there, chose me – the typical, middle of the road, girl next door. I always knew that I was punching above my weight, but I never thought that he would treat me like this. I genuinely thought I had found The One. It was only last week that he gave me his last Rolo. If that’s not the equivalent of a marriage proposal I don’t know what is.

‘Do you think Oliver loves me?’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. ‘I mean really loves me?’

‘Unfortunately, yes. I do.’

Choosing to ignore the unfortunately part, I press a little further. ‘What makes you so sure?’

‘The man is over thirty. You’re the only woman Oliver has ever introduced us to. We had actually begun to think he was gay.’

I shoot her a puzzled look. ‘Why would you think he was gay?’

‘For Christ’s sake, Clara! Wake up! The man designs shoes for a living!’ She shakes her head at me incredulously as we will pull into the hotel car park.

The car comes to a steady stop and I squeeze my knees together in a bid to stop them from shaking uncontrollably. Every fibre of my being is telling me to run as far away from this hotel as I can possibly get. This is a bad idea. I can feel it in my bones. Janie leans over my lap and pushes open the taxi door, before roughly shoving me across the sweaty leather and out onto the pavement.

Standing in the sweltering sun, I ironically feel frozen to the spot. A quick dig in the ribs from Janie encourages me to slowly put one foot in front of the other as I follow her inside the hotel. The familiar smell of aloe vera and cleaning products assault my nostrils, bringing back painful memories from the night before. It’s strange how a generic smell can provoke such strong emotions.

‘Janie, I’m feeling a little uneasy about this.’ Watching nervously as she calls for the lift, I chew my lip, suddenly very aware of what I have to confront.

‘Will you just get in the damn elevator?’

‘Aren’t you coming? You said you were going to sort this out? I never would have come back here if I knew I would be doing this alone!’ Bile rises in my throat as I step inside the empty box.

‘You don’t need me to hold your hand. Go on, I’ll be waiting right here.’ Slumping into a wicker chair, she waves over the waiter as the doors slam shut.

I ride up to the second floor in complete silence and pray for the polished floor to swallow me up.  Suddenly the doors ping open, revealing the dreaded lobby that leads to our hotel room. The same lobby I ran down last night with my packed bag and passport. Timidly stepping out of the lift, I pause for a moment by the window. What am I going to say? I can’t just go in there without a game plan. Do I make him beg for forgiveness? Do I even want him back? A vile thought hits me like a ton of bricks. What if he doesn’t want me back?

I watch an elderly couple holding hands as they walk through the hotel grounds. I can see from all the way up here that they are happy and smiling. What a lovely thought, that you can get to a ripe old age and still be head over heels in love. That someone will still love you when you have lost your teeth and resemble a prune.

Reminding myself what is at stake here, I decide now is as good a time as any to tackle this head on. Smoothing down my dress, I wipe last night’s mascara from my under my face and try to pat down the humongous bags that have appeared under my eyes. I really don’t want Oliver to know that I spent most of the night crying into a scratchy feather down pillow.

I look down at my feet as I walk towards the room, my heart pounding harder and faster with each step that I take. With a trembling hand, I reach for the gold handle. My fingers have barely touched it when I hear the familiar clacking of heels behind me. I don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. There’s only one person in the whole of Mexico that would wear six inch heels at a bare foot beach resort and that person, is Erica.

11.15am

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Disturbance

Reservation number: 25893

Dear Miss Clara Andrews                                                                            

We regret to inform you that we have had complaints of noise from your neighbouring rooms. One has been quoted as hearing, ‘I will break this door down.’

Please note, all damages will be charged on checking out of the premises.

Many Thanks,

Elena Rodriguez

Customer Service

Nature Beach Hotel

‘Clara! Hey! How are you?’ Erica’s sugary voice pierces my ears like a knife through butter.

Not wanting to face her, I close my eyes and try to steady my erratic breathing. I can’t believe that she has the audacity to talk to me like nothing has happened.

‘Hello? Earth to Clara!’

Spinning around, I force myself to look her dead in the eye.

Her jaw drops as she takes in my crumpled dress, grey skin and huge dark circles under my eyes.

‘Whoa! Who died?’ She asks, whilst touching up her lip gloss.

Why is she acting so normal? Oh, God! She doesn’t know! She doesn’t know that I know! Feeling totally thrown, I lean on the wall for support.

‘We need to talk.’ I try to sound authoritative, but the words come more Minnie Mouse than Hilary Clinton.

‘Is everything OK?’ Erica narrows her eyes at me cautiously.

‘No. Everything is not OK. Everything is not OK at all.’

‘OK...’ She responds slowly. ‘My suite is just down the hall, we can talk in there.’

Resisting the urge to pull out her hair extensions, I follow her down the lobby to her room, feeling rather alarmed at how close it is to mine. Has she been three doors down all along? What a mug I am. She slides the key into the door and beckons me in, smiling like a child at Christmas.

‘Can I get you a drink? Mineral water? Champagne? Something stronger perhaps?’

‘Erica, I know.’ I let out a sad sigh of relief at getting it off my chest.

‘Know what? Letting out a little laugh, she tosses her hair over her shoulder playfully, seemingly oblivious. ‘Do you wanna let me in on what’s going on here?’

‘I know about you and Oliver.’ Ouch. Hearing it out loud is a lot worse than hearing it in my head.

‘Erm, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ The smile stays in place, but I can spot the cracks in her demeanour.

‘Do not play me for a fool! I saw you! I saw you in the bar!’ Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I try to blink them back furiously.

Her face is frozen and I can see the look of fear in her eyes, fear or anger. I’m not quite sure which.

‘Clara, whatever you think you saw, I can assure you that it was completely platonic.’

‘Don’t patronise me, Erica! I thought you were my friend!’

Erica exhales slowly and puts her hands on her hips. ‘OK. You’re right. You are a fantastic person and you deserve to know the truth.’

My legs buckle from under me, causing me to collapse down on the bed.

‘First of all, I just want you to know that we didn’t want you to find out like this. You getting hurt was never our intention.’ She starts pacing up and down the room, her brow furrowed.

I’m going to be sick. A little part of me really thought that maybe, just maybe I had got it wrong, but this is really happening.

‘Oliver and I are in love. We have been for a very long time.’

A searing pain tears through my chest. I feel like I have been shot.

‘Oliver has always been the love of my life and seeing him again after all this time, here of all places, it just brought all those feelings back. It’s like fate brought us back together.’ Staring out to sea, I notice that she has tears in her eyes.

How dare she be upset? And love of her life? What the hell is she talking about?

‘When I was modelling in Dallas, Oliver was a stand in photographer on a shoot. I knew the moment I met him that he was the one for me.’

I want to shout at her. I want to hit her. I want to hurt her like she has hurt me, but nothing comes out. My whole body is momentarily paralysed.

‘I let him go once, but I can’t do it again. We are meant to be together. You just don’t understand him like I do. I’m sorry, Clara. I really am sorry and we hope that in time you can learn to forgive us.’

The room starts to spin as the pain in my chest intensifies. Pushing past her, I run out into the lobby and make for the stairs, ignoring her cries for me to come back. Tears spill down my hot cheeks as I half run, half fall down the spiral staircase. I spot Janie in the bar, exactly where she said she would be waiting, but I can’t bring myself to stop.

Racing through the hotels grounds, I don’t stop until I reach the beach. Collapsing onto the soft sand, I cover my eyes with hands. I really can’t believe that this is happening. My mind flits back to the shopping trip and Erica welling up as she recalled her time in Dallas. She wasn’t sad about LP’s affair, she was sad about Oliver. That’s why she bought me all those expensive clothes, she felt guilty about sleeping with my boyfriend. Well, he is not mine any more is he, he’s Erica’s.

‘Jesus Christ! Why did you run off like that?’

I look up to see a red faced Janie, doubled over and panting hard.

‘Well?’ She looks at me hopefully.

‘It’s all over. He’s leaving me.’

‘I bumped into Erica on my way to speak to Oliver, she told me everything.’ My entire body feels numb as I recall her scathing words.

Janie purses her lips as she perches on the edge of a sun lounger and stares at me in disbelief.

‘She said that she has known Oliver for years. She said that she met him when he was a photographer on a shoot where she was modelling and she also said that seeing him again after all this time brought back all the feelings that they had for one another.’ I make a poor attempt to compose myself, trying not to show how much this pains me.

‘I just don’t believe it.’ Never one to miss a tanning opportunity, Janie pulls down her straps to avoid white marks. Unbelievable.

‘What? How can you not believe it? I saw them and then she admitted it to me. What more evidence do you need?’ Feeling rather annoyed at Janie’s blatant ignorance of the facts, I push myself to my feet.

‘A moment of madness I can understand, but long lost lovers? I don’t buy it.’ She sprawls out on the lounger and slips on her sunglasses. ‘Until I hear this from Oliver himself, I’m not having any of it. I know my son and something isn’t right here.’

‘OK.’ Turning on my heels, I stomp off across the beach, ignoring the passing glances of nosey beach bums. ‘If you want to hear it from the horse’s mouth, I will go and get the bloody donkey.’

In the space of thirty minutes, I have experienced a plethora of emotions. I have gone from heartbroken to sad and now I am mad, really, really mad. How dare he do this to me? I have been the perfect girlfriend on this trip, vomiting on Janie aside. If he thinks I am just going to lie down and take this, he has another thing coming...

Riding up in the lift for round two, I crack my knuckles angrily. Why is it taking so long? I flash a polite smile at a young girl, who is excitedly clutching her suitcase and tourist map. Resuming my steely stare, I try to focus on my breathing. Finally the doors glide open and I stride out confidently, narrowly avoiding a wardrobe malfunction when my stupidly long dress gets caught under the girl’s suitcase.

Marching down the lobby, I reach the door to our suite when I realise that I have left my bag on the beach with Janie and no bag means no room key. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail. Not letting that stop me, I bang on the door with both hands.

‘Oliver! Open up!’ Realising that hitting a door is actually quite painful, I resort to a few swift kicks. Is he actually ignoring me? Remembering Janie’s hard words from earlier, I decide to give it a go. ‘Oliver! If you don’t open this door right now I will kick it down!’ Admittedly, I don’t sound as scary as Janie, but it must be at least a little threatening, as a moment later the door flies open.

‘May I help you?’ A tiny lady wearing an apron, rubber gloves and a badge reading Brenda stands in the doorway, smiling manically.

‘Erm...yes...I... I forgot my room key.’ I really wasn’t expecting a maid. He hasn’t been sleeping with her too, has he?

‘No problem.’ Standing back to allow me inside, she pulls off her fluorescent gloves, before giving me a quick wave and disappearing down the lobby.

After checking the bathroom, balcony and under the bed for a cheating Oliver, I have a final scan around the room. A hotel this amazing does not deserve to have such drama going on inside it’s walls. My heart aches as I take in the luxurious suite. The gorgeous drapes, the beautiful marble dressing table, the stunning four poster bed. Oh, God. The bed. Did he? Did they? I don’t even want to think about it.

Spotting my suitcase poking out from behind the wardrobe, I begin to gather my things. One thing I know for sure is that I won’t be spending another night here. Tossing swimming costumes and flip flops into the case, I swing open the wardrobe and tug the remainder of my clothes off the rail. My eye catches the slinky Dior gown bag, which is now hanging alone in the huge closet. Tugging on the zip, I run my fingers gently over the designer garment, before folding it carefully and placing in my suitcase. She has no shame in taking my man, so why should I have shame in taking the dress?

Packing complete, I pour myself a glass of champagne and take a seat on the balcony. I am guessing it will be a long time before I am at a five star resort again, I might as well make the most of it, break up or not. Strangely enough, a worrying, black cloud is making its way over the beach and I am pretty sure that I can feel spots of rain. It’s funny how a few days in the sun can make you forget what rain is like. I can’t help but think that it’s rather a suitable end to such a disastrous holiday.

Tomorrow is my last full day in Mexico. In just over forty eight hours, I will be boarding the plane and heading back home. Back to my life as it was a year ago, my very single life. Only it won’t be the same as it was a year ago. Lianna is so lost in the arms of Dan that she won’t even entertain the idea of a night on the town and Marc’s idea of fun is watching Madison blowing spit bubbles whilst passing copious amounts of wind. We had all grown up. We had all taken a massive step forward. Apart from me, I had taken one step forward and in the space of a few days two giant steps back.

A psychic once told me that I would end up alone. Since then, I had always feared that I would end up a crazy cat lady. Maybe she was right all along. To be fair, it was a three quid reading on Brighton pier and Lianna swore that she said abroad not alone, but it still always stuck with me.

The rain drops are getting heavier and I watch the tiny dots on the beach running for shelter under the trees. Isn’t it strange how quickly sunshine can turn into showers?