‘Whoa! Easy tiger.’ Tom laughs.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ I say, trying to keep a straight face as he cowers down pretending to be petrified. And for a moment I see the face of a much younger man. It’s as if his cool exterior has thawed to reveal a very sweet boy, and it’s so appealing. He picks up the club and, handing it to me, he says, ‘I could give you a quick lesson before we start.’ He looks so eager and enthusiastic.
‘Um,’ is all I can manage as he dashes around behind me and, with his arms either side of my body, he gently, but very firmly, positions my hands into place around the club.
‘OK. Now align your thumbs gently down the shaft,’ he instructs, completely oblivious to the effect he’s having on me. I can feel his warm body pressed against me and then he bends his knees into the back of mine and carefully thrusts them forward a few times to simulate a relaxed pose for the perfect swing. My heart is racing and an exquisite sensation between my thighs makes them tingle with longing. ‘There, that should work better … remember to keep your body relaxed.’ Oh sweet Jesus! I just about manage to nod my head. The silence lingers, apart from the sound of my pounding heart and his breath against the back of my neck. And then a buggy comes into view and the moment vanishes.
‘Thought I might find you here. Not interrupting anything, am I?’ It’s Eddie, and he has a wicked glint in his eye as his buggy performs a spectacular swerve before stopping alongside us. He flashes me a naughty look and Tom springs away from me. I quickly turn and glance at his face. He looks nervous, bashful even. Eddie lets out a stagey cough, winks and smiles at me before mouthing ‘lucky cow’ when Tom isn’t looking.
‘Catch you later. Just came to see if you were OK, but I can see you’re doing fine. The others are in the karaoke bar when you’re ready.’ And he whizzes away on his buggy. I smile at Tom and he smiles back, looking more assured now.
‘I’m ready when you are,’ he says, staring straight into my eyes as if he’s trying to tell me something more. Pondering on the innuendo, I open my mouth to respond, but an ear-splitting clap of thunder beats me to it and rain lashes down upon us. We fling ourselves inside the buggy and Tom speeds off, yanking the plastic weather shields down around us.
‘That was close – you’re not too wet, are you?’ he asks, turning his drenched face towards mine. Blimey, if only he knew. His shirt is clinging to his hard body, making him look even more spectacular. But before I can answer, the buggy hits a rock on the pathway and throws us sideways. Tom quickly leans into me, deftly manoeuvring the steering wheel to keep us from toppling over. ‘Oops, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ I tell him, but I can feel something poking into my thigh. I look down. It’s a striped notebook.
‘Oh, it must have fallen out of my pocket,’ he says, tentatively. I hand it to him. ‘Thanks, it … helps me to relax,’ he explains.
‘What is it?’ I ask without thinking, and my cheeks blush. ‘I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to pry,’ I add, quickly.
‘Just a few sketches,’ he says, glancing away.
‘Sketches? As in drawing?’ I say, before mentally kicking myself for stating the obvious and sounding like an utter plum.
‘Yes,’ he laughs, looking more relaxed now, ‘as in drawing.’
‘Cool,’ I say, thinking what a sexy hobby, and what a dark horse he is. ‘Do you mind if I take a look?’ I ask, holding the notebook up.
‘OK … but don’t tell anyone, it can be our secret,’ he jokes, and then grins at me. His shoulders are relaxed and he looks different somehow – younger, and less ‘work like’.
‘I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.’ I give him an exaggerated wink before pulling a very serious face. He shakes his head with laughter.
‘You’re so funny,’ he says. I frown. ‘In a lovely way,’ he quickly adds, making my tummy flip over and over. I flick through the pages. They’re filled with pencil line drawings of animals and various European city landmarks. I pause on a magnificent one of a Venice waterway.
‘Wow, these are really good.’ I turn to look at him. He looks uncertain, his eyes seeking out my approval almost, and seeing this side of him feels so nice, as though I’ve been let in on a secret. My tummy performs a big somersault. Our eyes lock, the rain beats against the buggy, making the moment feel really intimate. But then I remember James, and Maxine, and that I need to keep my wits about me. I quickly pull myself back to reality.
‘Thank you,’ Tom says, and carries on driving.
*
We make it to the karaoke bar and Melissa comes dashing towards us.
‘Where have you two been?’ she shouts over the music, looking at me with a smirk on her face, and then at Tom.
‘Playing crazy golf,’ I yell defensively and far too quickly, as I scan the bar looking to see if Eddie is here.
‘Well, you’re just in time, get your laughing gear around these.’ She hands us each a shot glass full of fluorescent green liquid. ‘When Bonnie Tyler up there has finished banging on about needing a hero, there’s a treat for Ciaran.’ She rolls her eyes towards the little stage at the end of the room where Suzanne is revving up for the last chorus – she’s got a pink crystal-encrusted microphone in one hand and a large cocktail with about three paper umbrellas, a plastic giraffe and a bunch of cherries on the side of the massive glass in the other. She sniggers.
‘What are you up to?’ I ask.
‘Oh, you’ll see, but it probably won’t be your thing. Although you never know, depends which way you sway,’ she winks, and a smutty leer spreads across her now drunken face. ‘Jesus, I can’t wait.’ I let out a groan. ‘Any minute now,’ she finishes just as one of the security blokes bombs over.
The guys are all nudging each other, and Ciaran, having realised they’re up to something, is looking panicky. The music stops and the guys from Menswear and Home Electricals start clapping and cheering.
‘No waaay,’ Ciaran shouts, ‘you bastards. I said no dodgy stuff.’ He leaps up. But before he can protest further, stripper music is playing and two girls dressed in hot pink Burlesque basques, with choppy fringes and cherry-red lips, appear in a puff of marabou and ostrich feathers. They dance through the crowd, teasing the boys as they peel off their long gloves.
After flinging off their basques, the girls start jigging up and down on the backs of their heels, making their matching hot pink nipple tassels whizz around in circles. I watch, fascinated at how they manage it, and secretly wondering whether with a bit of practice I could perform the same trick, when Eddie appears by my side.
‘Pour. It’s time to make mama look pretty,’ he gasps in a phoney hillbilly accent, clutching a hand to his chest while simultaneously shoving a glass down and gesturing to a nearby bottle. ‘On second thoughts, cut out the middle man.’ He rolls his eyes to accentuate his foul mood, grabs the bottle and, after jamming it into his mouth, he tips it up and takes an enormous glug. ‘Ahh, that’s better,’ he says, slamming the bottle back down on the table and grabbing the shot glass from my hand and necking that too.
‘Well, I think they’re fantastic. And I’d kill to have a body like that, and look at the power they have over all the slobbering blokes,’ I say, waving a hand around the room.
The girls have finished their routine now and are weaving back through the guys who are waving notes in the air. One of the girls catches my eye and gives me a friendly wink before stuffing a tenner inside her garter.
‘Well, I’m bored,’