Wedding Night

more like a pounding.
    “Can you hear me?” the woman is demanding. “Can anyone hear me in there?”
    I meet Ben’s eyes ruefully. We’re going to have to answer, before she bursts in with a SWAT team.
    “Oh, hi there!” I call back, hastily hooking my bra up. “Sorry! I was just … fixing my … head.”
    My
head
? Where did that come from?
    “My husband was helping me,” I add, searching around for my knickers. Ben is pulling up his trousers. It’s over.
    Dammit. I can’t find my knickers. I’ll have to leave them. I quickly brush back my hair, glance at Ben, pick up my handbag, then unlock the door and smile at the gray-haired woman standing outside the door, together with a younger brunette sidekick.
    “So sorry,” I say smoothly. “I have a medical complaint.My husband has to help me administer a serum. We prefer privacy for the application.”
    The woman’s eyes run over me suspiciously. “Do you need me to call a doctor?”
    “No, thank you. I’m fine now. Thank you, darling,” I add to Ben, for good measure.
    Her eyes drop to the floor. “Are those yours?” I follow her gaze and curse inwardly. My knickers. That’s where they were.
    “Of
course
they’re not mine,” I say with cutting dignity.
    “I see.” She turns to the sidekick. “Lesley, please tell a cleaner to come and refresh this cubicle.”
    Oh God. Those knickers are by Aubade. They cost forty pounds. And they match the bra I’m wearing. I can’t bear for them to disappear into the bin.
    “Actually …” I peer at the knickers as though suddenly noticing something about them. “On second thought … perhaps they
are
mine.” I scoop them up as nonchalantly as I can and examine a small rosebud. “Ah yes.” I stuff them in my pocket, avoiding the lounge manager’s steely gaze. “Thank you so much for your help. Keep up the good work. Lovely lounge.”
    “May we compliment you on the buffet,” adds Ben. He holds out an arm and escorts me away before I can explode. I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream. How did that happen? How the fuck did they
know
?
    “We were silent,” I mutter to Ben as we walk. “We were totally silent.”
    “I bet it was the old man,” he mutters back. “He must have shopped us. He guessed what we were doing.”
    “Bastard.”
    I slump into one of the plushy chairs and look around disconsolately. Why don’t they provide facilities for sex, anyway? Why is it all about surfing the Net and eating grapes?
    “Let’s have some champagne,” says Ben, and squeezes my shoulder. “Never mind. Bring on tonight.”
    “Bring on tonight,” I agree fervently.
    I check my watch again. Five hours, thirty minutes to go until we can put up that D O N OT D ISTURB sign. I’ll be counting down every millisecond. As Ben heads to the bar, I pull out my phone and text Fliss.
    We were found out. Someone shopped us. Bastards.
    There’s quite a long pause—then her reply arrives.
    Poor you! Safe flight. Xxx

9

FLISS
    Educational. It’s an
educational
trip. Yes.
    I haven’t asked permission. I haven’t given warning. I haven’t sat in the headmistress’s study and been lectured. I feel that in this instance the element of surprise is crucial.
    “Mrs. Phipps?” Mrs. Hocking puts her head round the door of the classroom. “You wanted to see me?”
    “Ah, hello.” I smile as confidently as I can. “Yes. Just a small matter. I’m going to have to take Noah out of school for a few days. To a Greek island. It will be very educational.”
    “Ah.” She frowns off-puttingly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask permission from the headmistress—”
    “I understand.” I nod. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to ask the headmistress, as I understand she’s away today.”
    “Really? When were you planning to go?”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow?”
Mrs. Hocking looks aghast. “But we only started term two days ago!”
    “Ah yes.” I act surprised, as though this hadn’t occurred to me. “Well, I’m afraid it’s an emergency.”
    “What sort of emergency?”
    A honeymoon-connected, sex-related emergency. You know the kind
.
    “A … family crisis,” I improvise. “But, as I say, it’ll be a very educational trip. Incredibly educational.” I spread my arms, as though to indicate just how educational this trip will be. “Highly, highly educational.”
    “Hmm.” Mrs. Hocking clearly doesn’t want to give way. “Is this the fourth time Noah’s been taken out