Destination India

I mumbled a response. ‘I can do fun …’

‘When did you last do something spontaneous? Really let your hair down?’

‘Shelley, there is no spontaneity in running a business.’ Just then an email pinged through to my inbox. Ignoring her rolling her eyes I leant over to see if it was Nihal explaining the scathing review.

‘Is it that Nihal fella you’re waiting to hear from?’ Shelley asked.

I shook my head. ‘Nope. Just an automatic email saying the Indian visas for the tour group are ready to collect,’ I said sadly. How ironic.

‘That’s it!’ Shelley exclaimed sloshing some wine on her legs as she pointed a finger in the air.

‘What? Visas?’

‘No, you daft sod. This is the answer to your problems.’ She grinned and then took a dramatic pause. ‘We should go to India.’

‘Ha ha very funny,’ I said sarcastically.

‘No. Georgia, I’m serious. We should go together to meet this Nihal bloke in person, see what’s really going on, put an end to these bad reviews once and for all. Why not? I love samosas and I even came first in a vindaloo-eating competition at home,’ she boasted. ‘Plus I’ve always wanted to go to India. And you can go and track down this tour guide. Wait – we can go undercover! Yes, that would be perfect. Get the real scoop on what’s happening. This is the perfect spontaneous thing for you to do!’ She looked like she could burst with excitement.

‘I think you need to start drinking some water,’ I said, shaking my head at the absurdity of the idea. Pfft, I couldn’t just take two weeks off work to jet off to India. How would the business survive without me?

‘I’m not drunk; this is the best idea I’ve ever had. Trust me, it’s a win-win. I mean, you never take any holidays, or days off for that matter. Plus you get to show Ben how you can be fun and daring Georgia again. I get to take a trip with my best friend and your business problem will be all smoothed over.’

‘Really, you think it could work?’ I tilted my head, thinking about what she was suggesting. The alcohol was making my head feel fuzzy and I couldn’t concentrate properly. Maybe it could be a good idea. It was just two little weeks.

‘Yes! Getting that email from the visa agency is a sign. See, the world wants you to go!’ She started to do a little jig. ‘That is, unless you’re too boring to say yes. The old Georgia would have booked her flight straight away …’

I shut my eyes. ‘I’m not too boring. Yes. Fuck it. Let’s do it. Right now!’

‘Yay!’ She began whipping a wet tea towel over her head in excitement then hesitated. ‘Wait, you don’t want to talk to Ben first? Check it’s OK that you’re gone for a few weeks?’

I shook my head – probably a little too dramatically – as spots appeared in front of my eyes. ‘No, we need to seize the moment. He’ll think it’s a great idea being proactive and courageous, trust me!’

‘OMG we’re going to India, baby! Let’s book it!’ Shelley beamed at me.

I looked at my smiling reflection in my black laptop screen. Yes this will help everything. We are a pair of geniuses. Wait, what is the plural of genius? Genii? Whatever it is, that’s what we are.

CHAPTER 5 (#ulink_f05546b1-c380-54f7-a350-b7bf3c251167)

Repercussion (n.) An effect or result, often indirect or remote, of some event or action

The sound of the bin lorries rumbling down the street woke me with a start. I opened my eyes and immediately felt like I was being stabbed in the corneas with all the sunlight beaming through the office windows. I groggily turned over and nearly chucked up. The room was a complete state. I carefully sat up holding my throbbing head. My mouth was as dry as sandpaper and I reeked of booze. I’d slept in the office again, only this time I had Shelley and her melodic snores for company.

I combed my fingers through my hair and winced as a piece of gristly kebab meat fell onto the sofa that I was spreadeagled over – the sofa that we used as a waiting area for customers to sit and browse our brochures, which was now wet in patches from spilt wine and drool. Easing my weary bones to stand up I grabbed a cloth and half-arsedly wiped the stains before turning my phone back on and giving Shelley a shove to wake up. Missed calls, a drunken voicemail from Jimmy and three texts from Ben beeped through, each of his worried messages growing more disappointed in their tone that I didn’t make Kelli’s gig and hadn’t even bothered to apologise.

‘Shel, Shel, wake up!’ I nudged her.

‘Mdnasudhu’ came from her as she turned and got comfier on the floor cushions.

‘No, I’m serious, Shelley; you need to get up now. Ben and Kelli will be here soon.’

‘What?’ She leant up, rubbed her eyes and let out a dry chesty cough. ‘What time is it?’

‘Time to get up and sort this disaster zone out. Man, what time did we even go to bed? I feel like ass.’

‘Eurgh, I dunno. Maybe about three or could have been four. Whenever we finished that third or was it fourth bottle of wine?’ She unsteadily got to her feet.

‘What? I thought you only brought two with you,’ I said, puffing the sofa cushions back to life and staggering to the bathroom.

‘Yeah I did but then you said we could open this other bottle that someone had bought you.’

I blinked, trying to remember, then suddenly it hit me. ‘Shelley, that wasn’t wine that was rum one of the customers bought us as a thank-you present. No wonder I feel so rough. I hate rum!’

She clapped a hand to her pale face as if burping down vomit threatening to escape. ‘Eurgh, me too. I need sleep, a shower and greasy food, pronto. Do you need me to tidy up first?’

I glanced at the room that smelt like a brewery but judging by her clammy almost-green cheeks it was probably better that she made a speedy exit. ‘Nah, I’ll open all the windows and Febreze the shit out of this place. I’ll call you later.’

She gratefully stumbled out as I collected the empty bottles and greasy kebab boxes and tried to make the room look presentable before Ben and Kelli turned up. I sprayed air freshener everywhere including over my crumpled clothes and quickly washed my face, rubbing the mascara smudges from under my itchy eyes, hoping to wake myself up.

Once I looked as decent as possible, given zero sleep and yesterday’s clothes as I still hadn’t remembered to leave a fresh change under my desk, I sighed and flicked on the kettle; may as well make a start with work. I hadn’t drunk like that in a long time. Why the hell had I opened that bottle of rum? Why had I been guzzling it down like a fish? What had we even been chatting about till four a.m. this morning? Where had the kebabs appeared from? My tired brain refused to wake up and give me the answers I needed. Bastard.

‘Kelli, you do know we have chairs?’ Ben tilted his head and comically raised his eyebrow at our office junior who was sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by plastic wallets, sticky labels and, worryingly, a glue gun. He’d been out at a meeting for most of the morning so thankfully the smell of kebab meat and stale alcohol had faded by the time he returned.

‘Nah, I like it better down here.’ She flicked her multi-coloured hair back and carried on.

‘You know you really did miss out on a good night last night, Georgia,’ Ben said, sitting at his desk and turning his laptop on. ‘Who knew our Kel had so many hidden talents.’ Kelli beamed back at him and avoided my gaze like she had done all morning. She’d barely acknowledged me since she’d arrived. I’d tried to apologise for missing her gig and asked her how her night went but had so far been met with polite but short answers.

‘I promise I’ll be there for the next one; I just got caught up with things here.’ I apologised again. ‘Right, it’s my turn to do the coffee run. The usual, everyone?’ Ben nodded gratefully whilst Kelli just shrugged. ‘OK, I’ll be back in a tick.’ I pulled my jacket on and walked out into the chill of the street. The icy spring wind was just what I needed to help blow away this raging hangover that I was trying to keep hidden from the two of them.

As I came back from Starbucks wobbling a latte, a hot chocolate and a cappuccino in a flimsy cardboard holder I felt the atmosphere in the small room buzz with electric tension. Kelli was sat on the comfy, thankfully stain-free sofa nervously twiddling her thumbs as I breezed in.

‘OK, here’s yours.’ I passed her an extra-large hot chocolate with all the trimmings. She took the cup and gave me a tight smile by way of thanks; I noticed she looked even paler than usual. Maybe I wasn’t the only one suffering in silence.

‘I got the one with the extra small marshmallows you like and, Ben, they asked if you wanted syrup but I took it without as I said you were sweet enough,’ I said cheesily and walked over to Ben who was sat rigidly in his seat glaring at me. ‘Everything OK, guys?’ I tried to keep my tone light whilst placing his steaming cup of coffee on his desk.

‘Kelli, will you give us a moment, please?’ Ben muttered to Kelli, ignoring my question; this seemed to be what she was waiting for as she jumped up like a rat out of a trap, grabbed her creased leather jacket and sprinted out of the shop, leaving her hot chocolate untouched.

‘Ben? Is everything OK?’ I asked, sinking into my seat. A strange prickly sensation rose up my neck.

‘Georgia.’ Ben sighed. ‘You promised me there wouldn’t be any more secrets between us.’

I shook my head, my eyes wide open and hands outstretched. ‘I know. There aren’t.’

He rolled his eyes skywards. His jaw was clenched as he spoke. ‘So now you’re lying to my face?’

‘I’m not lying. What’s going on, Ben?’

He stood up and placed his arms behind his head, closing his eyes and trying to calm down. ‘Whilst you were out getting coffee, Kelli took a phone call from Indian Airways asking if you and Shelley would like an upgrade on your upcoming trip.’