The Longest Holiday Read Online Free PDF Page B

when we were in Ibiza – she totally freaked out.’
    ‘Really?’ Bridget asks with curiosity as she zigzags on the pavement. ‘What did they say?’
    ‘Nothing.’ I wave her away. ‘It’s a load of tosh.’
    ‘That’s not what you thought at the time,’ Marty says with a smirk.
    ‘Anyway, what are they going to say now?’ I move on quickly. ‘That my life is crap and my husband is a bastard?’
    ‘Maybe they’ll tell you that you’re about to find love – or at least lust – with a mysterious jet-skier.’ Bridget punches me playfully. ‘Oh, his face when you went upstairs!’ she exclaims for about the fifth time. ‘He was heartbroken!’
    ‘Cut it out,’ I snap. ‘I’m not interested.’
    ‘That’s not possible,’ Bridget says, brushing me off.
    ‘Oh, it definitely is,’ I try to say firmly, but it’s difficult considering all the alcohol I’ve already consumed this evening.
    ‘We’ll see how you feel after a couple of shots of tequila,’ Marty says.
    ‘I am not doing tequila shots,’ I reiterate, and then suddenly a giant cockerel hops onto the pavement in front of us and lets out the loudest cock-a-doodle-doo I’ve ever heard.
    ‘What the hell?’ Marty splutters.
    ‘Where did he come from?’ Bridget cries, taking my arm and giving him a wide berth. He cock-a-doodle-doos again as we pass and we all jolt in shock before cracking up laughing.
    ‘Hey!’ a male voice shouts from ahead of us. Through blurry vision brought on from tears of laughter I recognise Rick, Tom and Carl approaching.
    ‘That rooster just scared the shit out of us!’ Marty exclaims, pointing back at it. ‘What on earth is a rooster doing wandering the streets?’
    I wipe away my tears to see Rick smiling down at me. He’s wearing cream-coloured chinos and a pale green polo shirt. No cap tonight. ‘You haven’t noticed the chickens before?’ he says.
    ‘What chickens?’
    ‘They’re everywhere.’
    ‘Are they?’ I ask with disbelief.
    ‘Look.’ He points up at a tree and, sure enough, there are a few hens roosting on a branch. ‘They’re all over the place in the daytime with their chicks. Hell knows what a rooster is doing up at this hour, though.’
    ‘That’s taking “free-range” a step too far,’ Marty says. She is not a fan of birds.
    Tom and Carl have also forgone their caps and sunnies tonight, revealing short brown hair and blue eyes (Tom), and even shorter brown hair and … what colour are Carl’s eyes? Green. Whoops. He just caught me staring at him.
    ‘You heading to Sloppy’s?’ Rick asks.
    ‘Guess so,’ I reply. ‘I don’t think I need to drink anymore though.’
    Suddenly a man dressed as a giant baby swerves onto the pavement in front of us from a side street. He’s quickly followed by seven mates, chanting and laughing and carrying plastic glasses with beer sloshing over the sides.
    Stags. I freeze on the pavement.
    Marty appears at my side. ‘Tequila?’
    Bugger it. ‘Go on, then.’
    Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Naughty Marty.
    ‘WOOOOOOOOOOO! I LOVE this song!’
    Yep, that was me screaming. And now I appear to be dancing on a table. How did that happen?
    I have a flashback to my hen night, when my friend Natalie tried to teach me how to tango. I wonder if I can tango on this table. I could also really do with one of those penis whistles Cheryl gave me that night. I need to make some NOISE!
    ‘Laura, come down!’ two Bridgets shout up at me. Yay! Now I’m seeing double. ‘You’re going to kill yourself!’
    I crack up laughing and stumble. Straight into Rick’s arms.
    ‘You okay?’ he asks with amusement as he puts me down.
    ‘You are definitely not pissed enough,’ I berate him.
    ‘Pissed?’
    ‘Drunk,’ I explain, forgetting pissed means angry, here.
    ‘Oh.’ He shrugs. ‘I don’t drink much. Anyway, we’ve got a dive tomorrow.’
    Whoops. The snorkelling. Forgot about that.
    ‘Take Your Mama’ by Scissor Sisters starts to play and another