Buch lesen: «Chasing the Sun: The laugh-out-loud summer romance you need on your holiday!»

John, my husband.

No cheesy quote or cute saying could make this moment any better.

Contents

Cover

Praise

About the Author

Title Page

Also by Katy Colins

Dedication

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

Acknowledgements

Copyright

CHAPTER 1

Transitory (adj.) – Lasting only a short time; brief; temporary

‘Honey, I’m home!’ I sang, pulling my key out of the sticky lock of our front door. It came loose with a tug. I flicked on the lights, illuminating the dark hallway, which was filled with cardboard boxes waiting to be packed for the big move.

‘In here, babe,’ Ben called from the kitchen of our flat. The soothing smells of spaghetti Bolognese currently simmering away in there flooded my nostrils. ‘You’re back late.’

I tried not to trip over the death-trap boxes lining my path and went to wrap my arms around his broad frame, leaning my head against his back. ‘Time ran away with me, again.’ I sighed. ‘Fancy a glass?’ I nodded at the bottle of wine I’d picked up from the off-licence on the way home.

‘Yeah, go on then. Only a small one as I need to be up early and clear-headed tomorrow.’

‘Ah yeah, or should that be ja?’ I put on a pretty crap Finnish accent, making him laugh.

He turned to face me, and kissed my forehead. ‘I think that’s Dutch not Finnish.’

‘Hmm, languages never were my forte. I know you’ve told me before, but what time’s your flight?’

‘Some godforsaken hour, waaaaay before you wake up. But at least it means I’ll be back here tomorrow night to help with more packing. Speaking of tomorrow, you all set?’

‘I’ll need to do a little work after dinner to make sure it’s pitch perfect, but I think we’re nearly ready.’ I smiled and poured out two glasses of wine.

The bank had an entrepreneurial scheme that we had been trying to get involved in for almost six months now. When I’d received a call saying they wanted to meet us to pitch to them, along with two other companies, the pressure had been on to impress them. If we nailed this, it could mean a major investment into Lonely Hearts Travels, allowing us to expand our services, and hire more dedicated staff. There were still markets we hadn’t branched out to where I was desperate to set up one of our tour groups. We were doing well, but our profits were always ploughed back into our business, so trying to free up extra cash to develop what we offered was tricky; this scheme could really help us out.

‘Dinner and relax first, and then you can run through it with me if you need an honest opinion.’

‘Deal. To be fair, Kelli has been awesome. You should see the video montage she’s pulled together. If they don’t get goosebumps when watching it, then they must be made of stone.’

‘You’re forgetting they’re a group of bankers.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘They were probably born with a chequebook instead of a heart.’

‘I’m telling you, after watching this and hearing what we have to say, even they can’t fail to be moved to put their hands in their pockets.’

‘I’m sure; it will be perfect. I know it will, just like everything else,’ he winked.

I smiled; he was right. We were going from strength to strength with our joint business, Lonely Hearts Travels. Our second office in London had been making enough of a profit for us not to worry about the bold move to open it, and many customers were returning from their group travel adventures with praise, five-star reviews and great word-of-mouth recommendations. Until now, we’d been juggling the workload of our flagship store in Manchester with a fairly normal home-life routine, but the time had come for us to take the plunge and buy a place in London, as commuting was taking it out of both of us. I was excited about being a homeowner with the person I loved most in the world, and as much as I adored Manchester, I couldn’t wait to embark on a new life in the capital. Plus, I was sick of the sight of these bloody boxes, crates and bubble wrap in every room of our flat.

Ben turned and spooned some Bolognese into my mouth. ‘Well, life will be perfect, once you’ve tasted this.’

I licked my lips and swallowed the tangy tomato sauce. ‘Hmm, maybe a little more black pepper,’ I teased, as he tickled me in my side.

‘Oi. This is seasoned exactly right, you horror!’ He laughed and began plating up dinner as I topped up our wine glasses. ‘Perfection in a bowl, I’d say.’

We negotiated our way around the boxes and wandered through to the lounge. I flicked on the television. ‘Netflix or Sky?’ I asked, as he gently put the steaming bowls down on the coffee table. It had been ages since we’d snuggled up on the sofa together. Sadly, I would have to limit myself to one hour of relaxing, then I needed to have another read-through of things for tomorrow.

‘Babe?’ I repeated.

Ben was staring intently at his mobile phone. ‘Sorry?’ He glanced up.

‘What do you want to watch?’

He hurriedly flicked off his phone and put it in his pocket. ‘Oh, err, Netflix? We’ve not finished watching this season of Narcos, remember?’

I faffed around with the TV and settled back into the sofa, trying not to feel put off by how distracted he’d been recently. It wasn’t just work; there was something else on his mind, but whenever I asked him he said everything was fine.

‘Oh, I heard from Jimmy today, said Shelley is like a kid at Christmas waiting for you to get over there,’ he said, pulling me from my thoughts. ‘You ready to head down under?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Ready’ was not exactly how I’d describe it. I was working flat out to get things finished before I took annual leave, and we were hoping to finalise the house move before we left, but it had been dragging on unresolved for what felt like months. There was still so much to do before I could let myself get properly excited for my trip to Australia.

‘I’ll take that as a no then.’

‘I can’t wait for a holiday, but until tomorrow is out of the way, I haven’t been able to give it my full attention.’ I flicked on to the right episode and loaded up my fork.

Our diaries were a military operation to organise at the best of times, but it felt like things had ramped up even more in the last few months. A lot of our popularity had to do with the public support that we’d received since appearing on Wanderlust Warriors, a TV show that I’d persuaded Ben to take part in last year in Chile. I still had to pinch myself at how things had developed since we’d first started both the business and our relationship. It was exciting, stressful, hectic and nerve-wracking all at the same time, but there was no one other than Ben who I wanted by my side through it all.

‘You still okay that I’m not flying over with you?’

I smiled and shook my head. ‘Babe, it’ll be wedding central from the moment we both arrive. It’s not that long till you’re joining me and, anyway, you’ll only be roped in to help out. Plus, we need someone to keep an eye on things here with the move; well, specifically with chasing the waste-of-space estate agent.’ I took a sip of my wine to calm down. Although I couldn’t wait to see Shell, I was secretly worried that this trip would be less sightseeing and more wedding planning.

‘For a girl who’s ticking Australia off her travel bucket list soon, you don’t exactly sound like you’re that excited, babe.’

I scrunched up my nose. The question was innocent enough, but I felt like I wasn’t sure if I had the correct answer. So much had changed since I had been jilted by my ex-fiancé, and even though it was a few years ago, I still felt unsure what my feelings were about weddings. Part of me loved the fact we were going to be hanging out together for a big knees-up with our best mates, and another part of me knew it could easily blow out of control. I’d learnt so much since I’d planned a wedding and been in Shelley’s shoes of balancing budgets and family expectations, wanting it all to be perfect. I wasn’t what you’d call ecstatic at getting back into that world again.

‘Mmm, I just know what it can get like when you’re in that bubble.’

‘Oh, yeah, sorry.’ He fidgeted. ‘You and marriage aren’t exactly best mates.’

‘You could say that.’ I finished off my glass of wine. How had we got through a bottle already?

‘Did I tell you that I’ve got a pre-wedding meet-up with some of Jimmy’s mates who can’t make it over for the big day, but wanted to give me some stories for my best man speech?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Shelley’s going to love that. Just run them past someone before you tell the whole room how he got his arse tattooed when you went to Laos.’

‘How do you remember that?’ He gasped dramatically.

‘I remember everything.’ I grinned, waving my fork in his direction, and tucked my feet under his legs.

‘Like an elephant,’ he laughed, spooning a mouthful of pasta into his lopsided grin. ‘Also, don’t stress about the house stuff. I’ll be on to them as soon as I get back from this trip.’

‘Thank you, babe. God, it really feels like the end of an era,’ I mused, nodding my head at the mountains of bubble wrap and flattened crates filling most of the room.

‘Yeah, I guess.’ Ben smiled and gave my knee a squeeze. ‘Or the start of a new adventure.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ I laughed. ‘Right, less talking and more eating, this is delicious.’

‘Told you, perfection.’ He grinned and turned the volume back up.

CHAPTER 2

Ardent (adj.) – Enthusiastic or passionate

‘Here you go.’ Kelli passed me over a Styrofoam cup of coffee before perching on the edge of the chair opposite, smoothing down her tailored charcoal-grey dress as she sat. The girl who’d come to us for work experience wearing Avril Lavigne’s wardrobe circa 2005 had blossomed into this confident and competent businesswoman, dressed for success. She was killing it in the office-wear style stakes. I self-consciously tugged on my own deep purple pleated skirt, hoping I didn’t let the team down. I’d read this thing in a magazine a few years ago that if you wanted to be remembered for all the right reasons, then you should wear a pop of bright colour in corporate environments. I was hoping that Cosmo never lied.

‘That machine is more complicated than the one Felix has installed.’ She nodded her head to an intimidating neon-blue and stainless-steel coffee machine emitting strange grinding and beeping noises in the corner of the tastefully decorated waiting area. ‘You need a bloody PhD in barista-ing just to figure it out.’

‘Maybe that’s our first test,’ I whispered, stealing a glance at the bespectacled-wearing receptionist. I craned my neck to see if she was surreptitiously observing us and making notes to pass on to the panel of bankers we were about to meet.

‘Well, luckily all those years of making you and Ben coffee means I’m more than qualified.’ Kelli grinned and poured a sachet of sugar into her steaming drink. We’d been sitting here for ages, running through our presentation, and now I just wanted to go and shine. I was about to ask her how she was getting on with the new team of designers she’d been managing when my mobile rang.

‘Georgia, I know you’re just about to go in, but I wanted to let you know that we’ve been given sign-off on the content for Lonely Planet,’ the high-pitched and excitable tones of my PA, Erin, rang down the line. ‘I’ve also seen that Ben has just passed over Germany and thought you might like to know.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Oh.’ She let out a tinkly giggle. ‘I mean, I’ve been watching his flight on this app to see where he was. To make sure there weren’t any delays,’ she hurriedly added. ‘It’s so cool, it even shows you the view from the camera underneath the plane so it’s like I was there with him!’ she babbled.

I tucked the phone between my neck and my ear, sipped my coffee, and noticed Kelli roll her eyes in mirth. She’d openly admitted that she didn’t have the patience to deal with Erin; their working styles were worlds away from each other.

‘Erm, great, anything else?’

I heard papers rustling. ‘I’ve rearranged all your meetings for when you’re away to be sure that you don’t get hassled on your holiday. Oh, and I’ve set a reminder to check you in online for your flight to Melbourne when it opens. You know that journey takes twenty-three hours!’ She blew air through her teeth.

‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ I said, repeating what was fast becoming some sort of mantra for me.

‘Well, rather you than me. Actually, scratch that, I’d swap places for a break in Australia compared to London. Wait – is Oz even sunny this time of year? Isn’t it their autumn if it’s our spring? No matter. Compared to here I’d give it a go. Did you know there’s another tube strike planned for next week?’

‘Erin?’

‘Whoops, sorry, I went off on a bit of a tandem then.’

‘Tangent,’ I corrected her and smiled to myself.

I’d warmed to her when we’d hired her as she was so bubbly and chatty, but there were times, like when I was about to go and pitch for a huge investment deal and needed to stay focused, when I willed her to wrap things up this side of the decade.

‘Listen, we’re just about to go in so I need to get off the phone.’

‘Ah, of course! Sorry! Oh, one more thing, the estate agents have called because they couldn’t get hold of you, I’m guessing because your calls are diverted to me and then with Ben on a flight too. They said that they have finally sorted a moving date. I’ll add it all into an email for you.’

For a moment I forgot about preparing myself for this pitch and allowed myself a frisson of excitement. No matter how many times I thought about the fact that Ben and I would soon be homeowners, it still didn’t feel real. Life was almost too good to be true. I didn’t dare think about it too much, otherwise I’d convince myself that something just had to go tits up.

‘Got it. Thanks, Erin. Now I do need to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.’

‘Great! Good luck with the pitch. Break a leg! Is that what they say? Well, don’t literally do that otherwise your trip down under will have to be called off and, from what you’ve told me, Shelley wouldn’t appreciate that one bit!’

‘K, thanks. Bye.’ I hung up, cutting her off.

‘All good back at the ranch?’ Kelli asked, stifling a smile.

I nodded and popped my phone back into my bag. ‘Fine. You need to get used to her; she’ll be the one helping you while we’re both away.’

Kelli let out a faux groan. ‘I’ll soon have her working efficiently.’

‘She is efficient, just a little excitable sometimes.’

‘A little excitable? A hardcore Justin Bieber fan finding out they’ve got a meet-and-greet in his bedroom is less excitable than her!’ She laughed. ‘So, the big wedding of the year, huh? On a scale of one to ten, how likely are they to play Kylie and Jason at the evening disco?’

‘Hmm, a solid zero I’d say.’

‘What no “Especially for You”? What about “Come On Eileen”? If that’s not blasted out and you’re forced to dance with some drunk uncle with bad breath, then the marriage is fair game to be legally annulled,’ she said sagely.

‘Shelley’s already said she doesn’t want anything super cheesy; she was vetting the DJ’s collection a few weeks ago to make sure.’

‘What! But it’s a wedding! That’s like saying you don’t want to say any vows because they’re a bit old-fashioned. I mean I’m all for making it “your day, your way”, but there are some things you don’t mess with, and doing “YMCA” with wedding cake crumbs in your hair and some bloke’s tie around your head is one of them.’ Kelli shook her head in disbelief. ‘I’m guessing she’s gone all bridezilla then?’

‘If you call a daily updated WhatsApp group with me and her cousin Cara, who’s the other bridesmaid, slightly over-the-top, then yeah. Every morning I wake up to at least fifty unread messages from the pair of them. Photos of table centrepieces, links to wedding blogs where there was a real-life shaman performing the ceremony, and conversations back and forth over the preferred height of heels the bridesmaids should wear. The worst thing is they live together, so why there needs to be a text group, I don’t know. I mean, I’m happy to be involved, but I’m just too busy to be as into it as they are.’

‘Not to mention what happened to you with your own wedding.’ Kelli winced.

‘Yeah, that too, I guess.’ I absent-mindedly picked at my nail. It had felt like it had been constant wedding chatter since Shelley had sent out her ‘save the date’ cards.

‘Seriously though, a shaman?!’ Kelli struggled to hold herself together; even the receptionist kept looking over to see what was so funny. ‘A shaman! Oh, I’ve heard it all now!’ she said through chokes of laughter.

‘Don’t, it’s not a joke!’ I flashed the receptionist a nothing-to-see-here-type smile.

‘Sorry. Okay, game face on.’ She tried to straighten her mouth and wafted her hands at her eyes to compose herself. ‘God, you poor thing, going all that way down under to spend time with this marital monster. Tell her from me she needs to get a grip. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be much of a holiday for you and Ben.’

I was about to say that I’d given up trying to remind Shelley that it was for one day, ONE DAY, and instead was making sure not to tip her over the edge when she was so fraught with nerves and constantly consumed by stress. I also secretly hoped that once I got over there she would be a lot calmer and on top of things, but I was pulled from sticking up for her as we were beckoned over to head into the lions’ den.

‘Miss Green? They’re ready to see you now.’

Here goes.

*

We’re nailing this. It literally could not be going any better. They’re eating out of our hands, loving what we have to offer, and quite rightly so.

‘So, ladies and gentlemen, if you turn to page fifteen in your packs, you will see our year-on-year growth, which I’m sure you’ll agree is pretty impressive in this current market.’ I beamed proudly at the corporate faces spread around the mahogany desk in front of me as a rustle of papers filled the pine-scented room.

The past twenty minutes had flown by in what felt like a whirl of PowerPoint presentations, marketing stats and business buzzwords. Kelli had given a breakdown of our figures and projected financial targets, all of which had been met with subtle eyebrow raises and the slightest of smiles.

I confidently stepped forward, enjoying the spotlight and opportunity to talk about how unique my business was.

‘I wanted to tell you a little about how Lonely Hearts Travels came about. I only discovered the joy that comes from booking a flight and jetting off after I was jilted, and found the courage to turn my devastating break-up into a whole new life, thanks to the opportunities that travel gave me.’ I paused for effect. ‘I now get to work with broken-hearted singles who, just like I was, are looking to find themselves by changing their scene and embracing a sense of adventure. After being dumped it can be all too easy to sit back and feel like the weight of the world is against you, that your hand has been dealt and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well, travel is something you can do. Go to that country you’ve dreamt about visiting, hang out with like-minded people, taste new food and take envy-inducing photos showing how you are having the best life. By getting out there you get a new perspective on the world; it can even show you that your ex wasn’t this perfect person you’d built them up to be. No one’s perfect, after all, and don’t get me started on the pedestal that I’d put my ex-fiancé on.’ A weak laugh floated from the room, spurring me on.

‘They say that travel is pure escapism, which is why it makes sense to turn to your backpack when you’re at a time in your life that you want to escape from. On the tours we run, we encourage guests to talk about their break-ups in a healthy way, so that they don’t return home still carrying the weight of their sadness with them. It’s like shedding a skin, a heavy fur coat that you didn’t realise you were lugging around, and that’s the most refreshing and amazing feeling there is.’

Kelli was smiling at me to continue.

‘At Lonely Hearts Travels we believe that—’

I was cut off by the shrill ringing of someone’s mobile phone. The suits shifted in their seats as I paused and waited for the culprit to turn it off. I was half tempted to remind them that the sign in reception said all phones were expected to be placed on silent when in the presentation room. Nobody moved. I let out a little laugh as the tune rang on, increasing in pitch. The awkwardness grew as they exchanged confused glances as to who was being so ignorant as to let their phone ring for this long.

‘Anyone going to fess up?’ I smiled. They stared back at me blankly.

‘Georgia,’ Kelli hissed, violently nodding her head towards my handbag placed under the table, which I now realised was the source of the repetitive ringing.

Crap. If it’s Erin, I’ll bloody kill her. She’d been messing about with my phone to make sure my calls transferred to her and must not have done it correctly.

‘Oh!’ I flustered. ‘I am sorry! I was sure I’d put it on silent, I …’ I leant down and fumbled in my handbag, feeling my cheeks flush and heartbeat quicken. I muted the call, without checking who it was, and stood up, brushing my hair from my face and trying to compose myself.

‘So sorry.’ I cleared my throat. ‘So, as I was saying, at Lonely Hearts Travels we pride ourselves on offering unique trips to fabulous destinations that will get even the most broken-hearted guests back on top form.’

I paused to check that I still had a captive audience. Kelli had a slightly manic smile fixed on her pale face. The only other woman in the room, bar Kelli and me, had her piercing green eyes narrowed into a pinched frown. She’d been the only one to shake my hand limply and fail to raise a smile during the introductions. So much for sisterhood solidarity, I thought, nodding at Kelli to press play on the short video she’d created. It was a montage of clips filmed by various tour guides showing our guests having the time of their lives. From a woman laughing and waving in the back of a colourful tuk-tuk in Bangkok to groups of smiling tour-goers trekking in the lush rainforest of Brazil, from guests practising yoga poses on a beach in India to dancing at a festival in Berlin, all set to a Florence + the Machine song, that uplifting one with lots of clapping; it never failed to give me goosebumps. This sense of pride that I’d started a business that meant something, that these people were getting on with their lives and, often, changing their lives because of being on one of our tours really was incredible. With my life being so fast paced, I didn’t stop to take in what we’d achieved as often as I probably should. I made a mental note to take a step back before rushing on to the next project in the future.

Just as the crescendo hit and my throat felt clogged with emotion, my phone rang again.

Green-eyed woman coughed loudly and purposefully as the gentleman next to her shifted in his seat in embarrassment for me. I avoided Kelli’s eye but sensed her bristle. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d be livid too; we’d worked too hard to look unprofessional like this. I scrabbled to the floor and delved my hand in my bag to shut it up. I thought I’d turned the bastard thing onto silent, so why was it still ringing!

My finger was pressing on the off button when I noticed that the persistent caller was Shelley, my best friend and current Australian bridezilla. Why was she calling me? We always pre-arranged our Skype sessions because of the time difference. It must have been the middle of the night there. I pressed decline and was just about to turn my phone off when a text pinged through from her.

‘Call me ASAP! Everything ruined!!! Jimmy’s gone.’

Jimmy, her fiancé and Ben’s best friend, had gone? Gone where?

I stood up and brushed some fluff from my skirt. My bold purple skirt that in a sea of neutrals they’d fail to forget. Stupid Cosmo. Stupid skirt. I apologised once more and thanked Kelli for jumping in where I’d left off. I cleared my throat and continued with my pre-rehearsed speech, except I was struggling to concentrate. What did she mean, Jimmy had gone? I knew we’d been chatting before about how stressed she was over the wedding and how some of her ideas were a little – well, a lot – farcical, but this was serious. Super serious. I felt this scratching at the back of my mind as what I refused to believe wouldn’t stay restrained. It had happened again. I knew only too well the pain, humiliation and heartache of being jilted, and now it was happening to my best friend.

‘Excuse me, do you mind if I just …’ I picked up a glass of water from the table in front of me and gulped it back in one, feeling Kelli’s confused eyes trained on me. ‘Something in my throat,’ I laughed lightly, and tried to get back on track with what I was saying.

The rest of the pitch went by without a problem or interruption, and thankfully Kelli took centre stage, doing an excellent job in wrapping it up. I felt like I was going through the motions as I was desperate to get out of this stuffy room and speak to Shelley. It had taken all my concentration to stick to our script, answer their questions and keep my head in the game, when all I could think was how heartbroken and sick I’d felt when my ex-fiancé, Alex, had left me. She must be beside herself.

‘Excellent, well, I think we have everything we need for now. We are very keen to get things up and running as soon as possible, so we’ll call you tomorrow afternoon with our decision.’ The deep, monotone voice of the man opposite pulled me from my thoughts.

‘Thank you so much for your time, and apologies again for my phone.’ I blushed and shook their hands, giving the green-eyed lady an overly officious smile as Kelli quickly passed out our business cards. I kept that smile fixed rigidly to my face until we were back in the plush corridor waiting to be escorted to reception.

‘I’ll be two minutes, just nipping to the loo!’ I hurriedly told Kelli, before rushing into the bathroom.

I clocked my face in the brightly lit mirrors; all the colour had been washed from my skin and the lipstick that I’d patiently applied, matching lip liner and all, had been absent-mindedly chewed off. I shut the door of one of the stalls, sat on the closed toilet seat and pressed FaceTime; within seconds, Shelley’s face filled most of the screen.

‘Hey! What’s happened?’ I garbled, taking in her appearance and feeling that familiar sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. Dark, heavy bags sagged underneath her bloodshot eyes, stringy strands of dull blonde hair were stuck to her frowning forehead, and a cluster of angry spots lined her chin. Shelley shook her head. That’s when I realised that in her sleep-deprived-looking eyes were tears threatening to spill.