Destination India (4 page)

‘I know.’ I smiled at him, hoping I didn’t have any poppy seeds stuck in my teeth after inhaling a bagel at my desk earlier.

‘Right, well I’d better be making a move; I said I’d go and get changed and then help Kel set up,’ he said, taking his hand away and breaking the moment. ‘Did you know Jimmy and Shelley are coming too?’

‘Yeah, she sent me an email about it earlier. Something about how there was no way she would refuse the offer of curry no matter how bad Kelli’s band might be.’ I hadn’t seen Ben’s best mate Jimmy and his girlfriend, my backpacker friend Shelley, for ages, even though we lived in the same city now. As much as the sound of Kel’s emo band wasn’t getting me excited I did have to admit it would be nice to actually be out in the real world with real friends and to be hanging out with Ben away from work. This had been the first ‘date’ that Ben had asked me on. OK, so officially it wasn’t a date when I’d be stood in a sea of faces in close proximity to Ben, cringing as Jimmy did his best Bez impression but still it was a chance to socialise outside of this place.

‘Cool, well. I’ll see you later then, Georgia. You sure you’re OK to lock up by yourself?’

I shooed him away. ‘Tsk. Course I am. I’ll see you all soon; save me a spot in the crowd.’

Ben looked as if he was going to say something else but stopped himself and gave me a quick wave as he left the shop. I was going to tie up some loose ends and be on my way. I was definitely going to be out of here at a reasonable hour, proving to my parents that I had more going on in my life than just work.

Only sending one email became ten and now I was late. Very late. I’d planned to go home, take a soak in the bath, maybe even paint my nails and leisurely get ready. I used to love the whole prep part of a night out. Me and Marie would crank up the stereo, pour huge glugs of cold white wine and dance around as we preened ourselves before falling into a taxi in a fit of giggles and excitement at what the night could hold. Most of the time getting ready was the best part. I’d never really got into the whole clubbing scene and hated feeling like I was on show as nameless
strangers wandered past unsteadily holding a pint of lager and looking us up and down. We’d eventually return home with our purses lighter and feet heavy, telling ourselves we were too old for this until the next time when the ritual would start all over again. I really did need to get in touch with Marie; how long had it been since I’d seen her? My mobile phone buzzed on my messy desk, breaking my thoughts.

‘Hey, I’m on my way!’ I said quickly to Ben.

‘Georgia. Are you still in the office?’ he asked. I could sense a sharpness in his tone.

‘Yep but I swear I was just heading out the door then I realised that we hadn’t sent out the itineraries for the Iceland trip, which I know was my job to do but it completely slipped my mind. Anyway I’m leaving right now …’ I babbled.

Ben cut me off; I could hear the disappointment in his voice. ‘Georgia, you promised Kel that you wouldn’t be late.’ His voice grew quieter, smaller against the thrum from the room he was in. ‘She’s counting on us to be there to support her; you know, put this teamwork theory into practice. Also, Jimmy and Shell have been asking where you are.’

‘I know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get caught up in work. I’ll be there before you know it –’ My stomach sank. I honestly hadn’t meant to let work get in the way of this evening.

‘Just try your best, please. Listen I need to go. The warm-up act have nearly finished.’ With that he hung up.

Double shit. I kicked the leg of my desk, causing my ticket to the event to flutter gently onto the floor. Picking it up, I glanced at the clock. If I could grab a taxi right now I’d still make it. Yeah, so I’d be the only one dressed for the office but at least I’d be there. I put on my jacket and
turned off my laptop, hoping there would be a long queue of black cabs waiting patiently at the side of the main street. I plonked my handbag on my desk to find my keys and accidentally pushed a pile of papers that I hadn’t had time to sort through onto the floor.

‘Bugger.’ I leant down to pick up the loose sheets of paper, scribbled notes and brochures. I scooped them up and dumped them on my desk, trying not to freak out at how disorganised my work space looked when I noticed a pale grey sheet of paper sticking out. This was from Kelli’s pad when she passed us messages.

‘Another one star review. For India tour. Seriously tits up!!’ she’d scrawled.

I hurriedly read the text she’d printed off the internet and felt a little bubble of sick rise up. All the other reviews we had received had been slightly negative but this took it to a whole other level. Personal, vitriolic, scathing and full of detail with not one spelling mistake to be seen. I flicked open my laptop and waited for it to come back to life before quickly typing in the web address where this review was posted; it linked to a travel blog that I’d never read before. This one post had received hundreds of likes and comments and been shared a stupid amount of times. It even came with its own hashtag. This was serious. With our next Indian tour taking place soon
and
it being one of our biggest earners, I had to do something right now.

I grabbed my phone, jabbing in Kelli’s mobile number to see if she’d seen any more reviews like this without telling us. Her answerphone rang on a few seconds later, reminding me that she would be warming up for her gig. I sighed and went to call Ben when I stopped. If I told him about it now he’d know I was still in the office and would tell me to leave it, that it could wait until tomorrow,
but I knew that it couldn’t. I needed to sort this out myself. Right now.

I quickly jabbed a text message to Shelley telling her I was running late but would be with them all soon, shrugged my jacket off and flicked the lights back on. Work had to come first. There would be other gigs; surely Kelli and Ben would understand. Wouldn’t they?

Spontaneous (adj.) Arising from a momentary impulse

I turned my phone off after it started beeping constantly with texts from Shelley asking where I was, telling me how great Kelli’s band actually were, and how there was still enough curry left for me to join them. I needed to concentrate. I couldn’t let my business go the same way that my social life was – down the shitter.

Christmas and new year had been a whirlwind of activity as we wanted to attract the resolution crowds, fired up to make this year the one in which they followed their dreams and travelled. Then Valentine’s Day came and went with a silly amount of bookings for single people determined not to sit at home and sob. It was also the time when I lost the courage I had been building up to ask Ben out for a coffee or maybe even a dinner date as we were both at different networking events. So what if my love life was non-existent? At least our business was going from strength to strength, all because of hard work, determination and sacrifice; tonight was just one of those sacrifices.

The Indian tour guide, Nihal, wasn’t answering any of the numbers we had for him. I let out a deep sigh as I realised that it was silly o’clock in the morning over there so no wonder my emails went unanswered and he wasn’t online on Skype. I was about to draft a firmly worded
email to the author of the awful blog post asking them to take it down when the door to the shop was flung open. I must have forgotten to lock it after Ben left.

‘We’re closed,’ I called out, as I tried to work out the best way to start a conversation with an internet troll.

‘Hey! You never close;
that’s
the problem.’ Shelley beamed at me, holding two bottles of wine in her outstretched arms, her pretty doll-like face looking slightly squiffy.

‘What are you doing here?’ I got up and hugged her; she smelt like a curry house, and my stomach gurgled loudly. ‘Thought you were all at Kelli’s gig?’

‘Well when you said you were running late I figured I’d have to come here and drag you out with the incentive of wine. But the gig finished, the curry ran out and still there was no sign of you. Anyway how are you doing? You look like shit by the way,’ she said in her throaty Australian accent, peering at me through glassy eyes. The gig must have been good.

‘Thanks, Shell, always a pleasure to see you too.’ I half smiled and took the wine from her, locking the shop door behind her. ‘I look like shit because I’ve just found yet
another
bad review for one of our tours, the nastiest one we’ve ever had. Made worse by the fact it seems to have gone viral and the bloody tour guide has gone AWOL so I can’t get to the bottom of what’s happened.’

‘Ah. Right.’ She nodded along as she rummaged in the kitchen for two clean mugs. ‘What’s that mean?’

I sighed and ran my fingers through my knotted hair. ‘It means that I couldn’t make it to Kelli’s gig, that I couldn’t stomach eating a curry as the only Indian thing my brain is processing is how stressed out I am at trying to track Nihal down. It means we have paying customers planning to head to Delhi in two weeks for a Lonely Hearts Indian Tour with
an apparently absent tour guide. And it also means that both Ben and Kel are probably really pissed off with me for not making it tonight, especially as I go on so much about the value of teamwork.’ I sighed and massaged my temples.

‘Ah, yup, that is a kick in the balls,’ Shelley said filling up the mugs with wine and passing me one. I took it gratefully. ‘Well, if we’re not going to be leaving here anytime soon then the least I can do is help you figure this out. Sit down and tell me
everything
.’

So I did, in between filling up our mugs and cracking open bottle number two I told her how important it was that this tour still took place, how hard we had worked to secure Nihal, who had come highly recommended, as well as the other suppliers that I’d personally hand-picked, spent ages interviewing via Skype and God knows how much cash on promoting this route. ‘Crap!’ I slapped my hand to my head, leaving wine residue on my forehead. ‘I’ve just forked out a shit ton of money to
Itchy Feet
.’

‘Itchy what?’ Shelley laughed.

‘
Itchy Feet
– it’s, like, the number one travel magazine, and I paid for us to advertise the sodding Indian tour.’ I pounded my fist on my desk. What an idiot. ‘Ben doesn’t know about this yet. I thought I’d try and fix it without bothering him about it.’

‘Hmm, so about Ben. What’s going on with you two?’ She tucked her legs under herself.

‘Nothing,’ I said forcefully before downing the rest of my drink. ‘Pass that wine, would you?’

‘Here, top me up too.’ She leant over and grabbed the bottle, knocking off a stack of brochures to the floor but I felt too stressed even to flinch at the mess. ‘Well here’s the thing, Georgia, and I’m going to tell it to you straight.’ Her eyes had gone even more squiffy as she tried to focus on me, pointing her finger out. ‘You’re a workaholic.’

‘What? No I’m not.’ I pushed her accusing finger away and filled my mug to the brim, spilling some on my trousers.

‘You are. You’re a workaholic who is SO determined to make this business a success that you’ve forgotten everything else in your life, including finding the courage to actually make a move with Ben.’ She sat back with a smug look on her alcohol-flushed cheeks.

I huffed. ‘Shell, I appreciate your opinion but I’m not a workaholic. I’ve just invested a lot of time and cash into the business and I need for it to go well, that’s all. I’m just like any other business owner.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Right. So where’s Ben then? Your business partner? If you were running this together why isn’t he here working all hours?’

I gave her a look. ‘He works hard.’

‘Yes, but he also knows when to take a break and, you know, live a little. He really missed you tonight,’ she said, making my heart flutter.

‘Really? He said that?’

‘Well, not in so many words.’ The butterflies that had been prancing in my empty stomach stopped doing the conga and played dead. ‘But I know he
felt
it. You two are made for each other. Everyone can see that apart from the bloody pair of you.’

‘You really think that?’ I asked, feeling the warming glow of the cheap wine kicking in.

She nodded her head. ‘Tsk, course, we
all
do. But you know, Romeo would never have gone all lovey-dovey for Juliet if he thought she wasn’t interested in him. Instead he’d probably have copped off with some distant Capulet cousin or some shit, got married and had loads of Leo lookalike children whilst Juliet just grew old and shrivelled up, kicking herself that she hadn’t been brave enough to tell him how she felt.’

I laughed. ‘I bet old Shakespeare would be turning in his grave hearing your version of the greatest love story of all time.’

‘I’m serious, Georgia. How do you expect Ben to make a move if he doesn’t even know you have the world’s biggest crush on him? Ain’t no way he’d risk asking you out on a date and be knocked back
then
have to work together, dying of wounded pride as the business collapsed due to the stale atmosphere that would cause.’

I was beginning to feel like this was the Spanish Inquisition with both Shelley and my parents questioning me about my non-existent love life. ‘I think he knows.’

She let out a throaty laugh. ‘He’s a guy, Georgia. They
never
know, unless you’re stood butt naked waving a condom in the air.’

‘Well, he comments on my appearance, says I look nice.’ I cringed thinking about the unplanned makeover that Kelli had given me the other day. That wasn’t quite the glamorous look I was going for. ‘I always make sure I put the radiator near him up higher than mine so he stays nice and warm and he notices that.’

She scratched her head, humouring me. ‘Oh wow, and what else?’

‘Well he, erm, he always makes me tea in my favourite mug – the one with our picture on. Oh yeah, and we have this little shared joke … well, we did … where each of us would try to drop random words in on phone calls with suppliers; we haven’t done that for a while actually, but it was really funny,’ I said thinking out loud. I was struggling now. Maybe I wasn’t putting out any please-take-me-to-bed subliminal messages, but then again, neither was he. And I needed to act like I didn’t care. I just wished I could stop my heart whispering that I blatantly did.
Shut up and just do your job pumping blood,
my brain growled back.

‘Hmm.’ She rolled her eyes, looking majorly unimpressed with my seduction skills. ‘Well if you want my opinion …’

‘Do I want your opinion?’

‘Yes. If you want my opinion, the girl he was crazy for back in Thailand seems to have stayed on that beach.’

‘What?’

‘I’m just saying the fun, carefree, live-for-the-moment Georgia that he first met isn’t here any more.’ She gulped her wine, ignoring my look of surprise. ‘When did you last do something just for fun? And I don’t mean playing lame word bingo on the phone, I mean
really
fun?’

I took a long sip thinking about it. ‘Drinking wine in the office is fun, risqué even.’ I winked as she tutted.

‘I’m serious, Georgia. Where’s the girl I met who would go skinny-dipping in the Thai ocean, who had the balls to travel solo after being left jilted, who would say only yes to new things, not check if she could fit them into her busy schedule first?’

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.