Free Bridesmaids by Jane Costello

inspection it turns out to be a cigarette butt.
    She puts her head in her hands and starts to sob.
    ‘This,’ she says, ‘is the worst goddamn day of my whole goddamn life.’

Chapter 24
    Valentina has showered, dressed, and spent forty minutes applying concealer underneath her eyes. She looks much better than she did an hour ago, i.e. less like a zombie, but she’s still not in what you’d call a good mood.
    ‘If this old fool doesn’t get me checked out sharpish,’ she hisses to me down at the reception, ‘I’m going to become very annoyed.’
    ‘Beautiful morning, isn’t it?’ smiles the elderly hotelier.
    ‘Hmm,’ she says, lifting up her Jackie O sunglasses briefly to flash him a look.
    ‘Have you managed to do any walking during your stay?’ he asks cheerily.
    I stifle a giggle. Valentina is wearing a pair of £350 Gina shoes with Gucci jeans, and is carrying a top-of-the-range Louis Vuitton travel system. She couldn’t look less like a walker if she had no legs.
    ‘No,’ she says, without even the hint of a smile.
    ‘That’s a pity,’ he says. ‘The views in the Trough of Bowland are magnificent.’
    ‘Perhaps next time,’ I tell him, thinking someone’s got to fill the gap in conversation.
    Now she shoots me a look.
    ‘Is my bill nearly ready?’ she asks tersely. ‘I really do have to get going.’
    ‘Oh, sorry, dear,’ he says. ‘Listen to me wittering on while you’re waiting. Things will be much better when my wife Edith is back on her feet. She’s just had her varicose veins done. Anyway, your bill’s just coming now.’
    ‘As a matter of interest,’ Valentina says, ‘the man I arrived with yesterday, Mr Williamson– Jack Williamson–has he checked out from his room yet?’
    The hotelier thinks for a second. ‘The man you were with yesterday…yes, strapping fellow with dark hair, I know him. Oh, he checked out a long time ago. He was up bright and early, in fact.’
    ‘Was he now?’ says Valentina, obviously even less happy now.
    ‘So do you want to take his mobile?’ I ask when we get outside. ‘I mean, I presume you’re going to see him again soon?’
    ‘I doubt it,’ she says furiously. ‘If he’s checked out this morning he’s left without even saying goodbye to me. Never mind without sleeping with me. And I don’t know how you work, Evie, but that’s the sort of behaviour I just don’t tolerate on a second date.’
    ‘Right,’ I say, feeling a surge of optimism. ‘I’ll have to think of another way of getting it to him. Have you got his address? I’ll take it round there myself.’
    She thinks for a second, then snatches the phone from me.
    ‘Now you mention it,’ she says, ‘I am going to have to go round to see him anyway. I need to arrange his next tennis session. So I’ll take the phone.’
    ‘Oh,’ I say, hating myself for feeling so disappointed and for not being able to think of a good reason to wrestle it back off her.
    Valentina opens the boot of her car and starts piling her luggage into it.
    ‘So…do you think you’ll forgive him?’ I ask, unable to stop myself. ‘You know, for leaving without saying goodbye?’
    She gets into her car, pulls down the visor to look in the mirror.
    ‘I may do,’ she says. ‘It depends on what happens when I go and see him. Which I’m going to do right now. Now, how do I look? Passable?’
    ‘Well, yes,’ I say reluctantly. ‘Definitely passable–but not your best. I mean, you said that yourself.’
    I’d feel a bitch saying this to anyone else, but this is Valentina we’re talking about–and I don’t think a ram-raider driving a tank could dent her ego.
    ‘Well,’ she sighs, ‘given that most people would kill to look like my idea of passable, I think that’s probably good enough. Anyway, even Penelope Cruz gets bags under her eyes sometimes. Catch you later!’
    And off she goes, with Jack’s phone on her passenger seat.

Chapter 25
    Red Cat Farm, Wirral, Friday, 9