(Continued from Foreign Climes)
Dan laughs. ‘I can’t believe he didn’t tell you!’
‘Well – he didn’t know I was coming. I should have checked he’d be here but, well, it didn’t occur to me that the host wouldn’t be at his own party!’ I say, laughing. ‘He’s playing cricket, is that right?’
‘And… when’s he back?’
‘I honestly don’t know. Seriously, he’s unbelievable. He’s the most laid back guy I know!’
That’s one way of putting it.
‘He just said to me the other day that he was off to Benidorm to play cricket and that he’d be missing the party. I thought he’d have told people! He should have written something on the event page so everyone knew!’
But then, if he had, I probably wouldn’t have come.
Dan takes out his phone. ‘I’m going to send him a picture.’ He asks one of the guests to take a photo of the two of us.
‘What are you writing?!’ I say.
He shows me the screen. In the subject line he’s put ‘Forget something?’ I laugh. He sends it.
‘More wine?’ he says, reaching for a bottle.
I hold out my cup. ‘Thanks.’
‘Pinot grigio OK?’
‘What? Oh, yeah, great.’
He fills it to the brim.
I shrug. ‘Nothing.’
When in Benidorm…