‘You guys . . .’ Ginny lifted her bottle. ‘We’re on holiday? Let’s have some fun. Cat and Tristan have worked so hard to arrange this for us. Cheers!’ Her voice was light, but Cat could hear the tension bubbling just below the surface. Ginny was good at painting on a smile. Cat knew that Ginny didn’t want to be here. Cat knew her sister hated hiking, but she was making the effort to keep things friendly. More fool her.
Cat glanced across at Ginny and mouthed a silent thank-you. She didn’t want them all arguing. Not right now. Not tonight.
They all chinked their drinks together, to a chorus of ‘cheers’ and ‘salut’， and Cat smiled, pleased with herself for pulling this weekend together. Because there were a few surprises that she planned to deliver.
And not everyone was going to like them.
Two
FRIDAY NIGHT
Cat decided to slow down after the third beer. Maybe it was stronger than the lager she usually drank at home, or maybe it was the altitude. Or maybe just the excitement . . . but she felt fuzzy-headed and she really didn’t want to feel rough the next day. The others, though, were definitely up for a party.
‘Shall we get a bottle of wine?’ Ginny tossed a peanut in the air and opened her mouth to catch it, but failed. The peanut bounced off her chest and skittered across the table.
Tristan and Paul cheered, and Ginny tried again. Failed again. Then shrugged and finished her beer. ‘Wine? Anyone?’
Cat shook her head. ‘I might slow down a bit, I think. That stuff is like rocket fuel.’ She felt happy with the buzz it had given her, but she didn’t want to push it.
Tristan laughed. ‘Since when were you such a lightweight?’ He stood up. ‘I’ll go and get us all some proper drinks.’ He walked into the bar, ignoring Ginny’s call to him that it was table service and the waiter would be out soon.
‘I’m just nipping to the loo.’ Cat picked up her bag and followed him inside. He was at the bar, laughing with the barman, and she suspected that he would ignore Ginny’s request for wine, because he didn’t like wine. He was equally as self-centred as Ginny. How they’d lasted this long as a couple was a complete mystery. Cat watched him pointing to bottles on the shelf behind the bar. He’d be returning with more beers, plus something stronger. It was still early, but all the more reason to kick things off now. He knew as well as she did that they had an early start.
He turned as she went to walk past him. ‘You alright, babe? How about a gin and tonic? Might wake you up a bit.’ He took in her frown, then laughed and squeezed her arm. ‘Don’t worry, Cat. Everyone will be up in time for the hike in the morning. I’m hardly going to spend all that time helping you plan it then wimp out at the last minute. Let’s go hard, then go home . . . early.’ He turned back to the bar and started chatting to the barman again as he poured the drinks.
‘Just nipping to the loo,’ she said, pointedly, over his shoulder.
The toilets were in the basement. Dark and dingy. There was only one cubicle, with the rest of the space taken up by a single urinal and a sink. She pulled down her underwear and sat on the toilet, reading some of the graffiti etched into the back of the wooden door.
Lauren pour Antoine – toujours!
Monique est une pute.
La vie est douce.
She smiled at that last one. Life was indeed sweet. Or else it would be, after this weekend. If she had a pocketknife, she’d be tempted to scratch in some words of her own: Cat woz ’ere.
‘Cat?’
She grinned. Her head might be feeling fuzzy, but the rest of her was fully alert. ‘In here.’ She stood, quickly pulling up her jeans.
‘Mmm,’ he said, stepping in and kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. ‘Nice place you’ve got here.’ He spun her around and pushed her against the door, started nuzzling her neck. She felt his knee pressing against her crotch as his hands slid up her t-shirt, into her bra. She gasped.
‘Tristan . . .’
‘Come on, babe. The others are too busy guzzling their drinks. We’ve got a few minutes.’ She let him kiss her. He was hard to resist.
He nibbled her earlobe. ‘We can forget the plans, you know . . . we don’t have to do this. We can just keep having fun . . .’
She pulled away from him. Looked him in the eye. ‘Have you changed your mind?’ She started to fix her bra, tucked her t-shirt into her jeans.
He sighed. ‘Nah, you’re right. It’ll be good. Let’s do it.’ He kissed her nose then shoved her away gently so he could get out of the cramped cubicle. ‘You better go back up first. Don’t want to blow it.’ He winked, letting his eyes drop down then back up to her face. ‘Although . . .’