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I am never quite sure what to do in a jacuzzi.

I think the idea is that you’re supposed to relax but, in truth, all that bubbling and extreme warmth always feels a little violent, the jets hitting spots where they shouldn’t and when I say that, I mean they do rush up my arse.

I move a little so it doesn’t do that. Max, however, looks very excited.

I hope he’s not getting kicks out of this.

This underground pool area of the hotel feels slightly unnatural, it’s lit by pink neon lights and surrounded by ferns to make it look subtropical but really it just makes it look like a swimming pool a villain would have in his underground lair.

One where the floor would open up and sharks would appear which is why I’ve given it a slightly wide berth.

A group of ladies on some spa weekend are representing here in numbers which means they’re basically wading, doing ladylike breaststrokes in chic one-piece swimsuits.

Almost like the antithesis to Max with his luminous yellow patterned swim shorts that clash a little with the surroundings.

‘You have a strange look on your face,’ Max tells me, looking over. ‘You don’t look relaxed.’

‘I’m just trying to remember whether it’s safe to jacuzzi when you’ve been drinking? Does this water also smell funny to you?’ I ask.

‘I haven’t farted, if that’s what you mean?’ he replies, to which we both laugh because we are brothers and men of a certain age.

‘Thank you for all of this, by the way…I appreciate it…’ I say. ‘I just thought I’d tell you before I forget.’

Max’s face lights up at the compliment. ‘Well, it was more Amy and Brooke’s idea. You work hard and sometimes you just don’t give yourself a break.’

‘I’ve just been to Seville,’ I say, feeling a need to be truthful.

‘For work, really. And we know you’ve had a tough year with work and…’ He pauses and just stares at me.

‘You can say her name out loud, you know.’

He doesn’t. None of the siblings have really known how to broach that subject for fear of breaking me.

The truth was I really liked Suzie. What I felt for her, I could feel in my very core, but I think I may have also fucked that up big time.

I walked away. In my stupid head, it felt like a really sensible thing to do.

It felt important to test this out, to see if it could survive some months apart so we could breathe and take stock.

Who does that? Where in any romance book does a hero step away from big emotions like that and say ‘ Waiteth one minute, fair maiden. This love is o’erpowering.

I am going to leave and take stock .’ No one.

So well done, Charlie for being just a little bit too mature about it all.

Because I think Suzie saw my leaving quite differently.

I reckon she must have seen it as me running, abandoning her, leading her on and, in the wake of a separation, that probably wasn’t what she needed at all.

The more I think of my poor judgement, the more cringey I feel, the more I wonder how I will be able to go back in the New Year.

Because I can’t stay at the school where I am.

The school where I’m helping ration out pens and I have to share a room with a French teacher who day drinks.

She’s not Suzie. She’s not even in the same arrondissement.

‘Have you really not spoken since half term?’ Max asks.

I shake my head. Complete radio silence.

The only communication I saw coming was from the departmental WhatsApp group, of which I was still a member, so the messages I saw were from her telling the group the downstairs printer was out of toner or asking about where they kept the Year 9 listening assessment papers.

They’re in the 2023 assessments folder, Suzie.

It’s not an obvious place to look but I think they were put there by accident.

I never piped up and said that though. It felt like the wrong way to start talking to her again.

‘I can’t read if you’re angry with her. Or is that your feelings for the jacuzzi talking again?’ he asks me.

‘I just…a lot happened there in a short space of time. I need time to recover, work it out. For now, this is good. This is unfeasibly warm and I’ve read that’s not good for your sperm count but time with you, just you, is good.’

He smiles, knowing that my reluctance to talk about Suzie means a steer is needed. ‘Normally, you and I time involves a PlayStation or a supermarket,’ he jokes.

I laugh at the memory. When the both of us were tasked with looking after our family, we used to head out with a shopping trolley and come out with lots of crisps, toilet paper and cheese. We had no clue what we were doing. It seems like only yesterday but also a lifetime ago.

‘Also, I’m not sure when and how I’m supposed to do this but I also have a question for you? That was also the purpose of this trip.’

I nod curiously.

‘Well, it’s kind of obvious but you’ll be my best man, yeah?’ he asks. ‘Amy’s furious I’ve not really made a decision about that yet. Thought I’d go with one of the boys but I mean, you make sense. You are the best man I know and you know me so well, so yeah…’

I don’t think he was supposed to ask that question here while our ball sacks are being pummelled by these jacuzzi jets but I smile and feel myself tear up.

We certainly have moved on from just thinking we could live off multipacks of ready salted Hula Hoops, haven’t we?

I’m so fucking proud of him, of us. I float over and give him a hug, holding him tightly.

‘Love you, bro,’ he says, his head on my shoulder.

‘Love you more.’

It’s only then we hear a slight cough though as the hug is drawn out, and those ladies in the pool look over judgementally to see what we’re up to. Yeah, not that.

Max peers over the side at them. ‘Way to ruin a moment…tournez around and mind your own. Is that a yes then?’

‘It’s a big oui from me.’

‘Probably not something you should say in a jacuzzi, bro.’

And I laugh, from somewhere in me that thought I’d never laugh like that again.

‘So you didn’t think to ask Andy then?’ I ask Max, as we return to our room in white robes and hotel slippers. It’s a comfy and swish look for us and yes, we may have taken a selfie like this too. Brooke will love that one.

‘To be my best man?’ Max asks. ‘Hell no. Turns out after Mallorca, his wife saw some photo on Facebook of him cosying up to some girl, and she dug a bit deeper and realised that’s why she kept getting thrush.

They’ve separated now.’ I try and act shocked and maybe a little bit disappointed.

‘Yeah, don’t be smug. I didn’t ask Wrighty either because he did it for Coops last year and he said the f-word twenty-two times in his speech.

They think it’s why his aunt had a stroke. ’

I laugh. I’ll have to write a speech. I’ll have to make sure he gets there on time and wears clean pants.

It somehow feels like everything I’ve been doing for the past six years really, except I’ll be doing it in a suit.

I hope it’s a nice suit. We amble down the corridor of this hotel, a few guests giving us strange looks.

Such is the way of hotels, it’s just people coming and going.

It feels like a very apt place to be. We enter the stretch of corridor of our room when we both suddenly stop.

A room a few doors down from us seems to be getting a room service delivery.

‘Laissez-le dehors,’ a voice pipes up from beyond the door.

Max puts a hand to my chest and we linger in the shadows as the porter rests the tray on a folding table outside and then leaves.

That is a bold move. Anyone could walk past?

Two chancers in bathrobes, for example, who have worked up a hunger after a day of drinking, slightly parched from overheating in the jacuzzi. We stare at the food, longingly.

‘That is a lot of fucking frites,’ Max says, as we look at the tray.

‘Like almost too many. I count seven portions of chips, that’s just greedy,’ I say.

‘It could be a family in there, you know? Fussy-eater kids?’ Max says.

‘But it’s also late – perhaps it’s sex food for two lovers who’ve been going at it all afternoon. ’

Max laughs, side-eyeing me. ‘I dare you.’

‘You what?’

‘Dare you to steal some chips, come on?’

‘You dare me?’

‘I’m just telling you to have fun, live a little. I don’t think you’re brave enough anymore.’ I look at him, my mouth agape with shock at the insinuation that I’m a bit of a coward. ‘This is like a second stag of sorts? We need a bit of excitement.’

‘I hugged you in a jacuzzi? Wasn’t that enough?’ But he’s right. Why not, eh? They won’t miss some chips. Maybe I do need to lighten up. Max gets his phone out. ‘You’re not filming this, are you?’

‘Sam will piss himself laughing…go on…’ he urges me.

I tiptoe over to the door, in full-on stealth mode, looking around for signs of other guests, staff, cameras. They have condiments too. I can steal mayonnaise. I go over and pick up the bowl ever so quietly and pick up one frite, stuffing it in my mouth. I can hear Max cheering quietly.

But then the door opens.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

I hear footsteps running away as Max abandons me. God, I hate you.

I turn around, slowly, awaiting my shame, my embarrassment.

But, hold up.

You?

Suzie?

She stands there for a moment staring at me.

I stare back.

‘How?’ she says, confused.

‘What?’ I reply.

‘Did you know I was here…? Have you followed me? Was this Lucy?’ she asks me, her eyes darting around the corridor.

I shake my head incredibly slowly. ‘No. You’re here… ’

‘I am.’

‘You are…’

A feeling, a happy shock washes over me. It’s the same emotion that rushed through me when I saw her in the assembly hall that morning. When the universe decided that would be funny. It’s her. How on earth did that happen? And now she’s here. Again.

‘Why are you…what are you wearing?’ she mumbles.

I look her up and down. ‘Is that my T-shirt?’ I say, looking at her legs, her hair freshly washed. She’s exactly the way she looked when I first met her.

‘Why are you eating my chips?’ she says.

And we both stand there, slightly stunned by all of it, by what bloody glitch in the universe this may be.

There must be an entity out there saying you don’t need space, you two.

You two just need to realise that this is meant to be.

We keep flinging you in each other’s path for a very good reason. Just get together already.

I need to swallow this chip.

‘You ordered a lot of chips?’ I say, and she looks down at the food, a little surprised at the quantity of fried potato on that tray.

‘So, you thought you could steal them?’ she says, smiling.

‘Says the girl wearing my T-shirt…’ I joke.

There is complete silence between us as we try and work this out.

‘Why are you here?’ I ask her.

‘I’m here with Lucy. She had work. I tagged along…’ she mumbles.

‘I’m here with Max, we went to a beer festival…’

‘Room 912.’

‘Room 922,’ I say, pointing down the hall.

And we stand there thinking of all the beaches, the hotels, the airplanes and schools and places that you can bump into and meet people and for some reason, we keep bumping into each other like this.

We keep dancing this dance where we end up back in the middle of the room together.

Or outside a room, stealing her chips. I can feel a tear forming in the corner of my eye as I know that this is the moment to keep her, to make this something, something that lasts.

To tell her how very deeply I feel about her.

She stands there, jogging on the spot and I realise I’m letting all the warm air out of her room.

‘You’re cold.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Do you know what could warm you up?’ I say.

She blushes, a knowing smile on her face.

I put my hands up in the air. ‘Un café?’

And we laugh before she catches my eye and that energy that hits is both familiar, it glows, it sparks and for one moment, it feels like it could light up the entire hallway, this hotel, the entire city.

‘I’d like that very much. Could I maybe put some clothes on this time?’ she says.

I shake my head. ‘You look fine.’

‘Says you all covered up…in your robe…’ she says, trying not to laugh.

‘Would it help if I showed you my nipples?’ I say pulling it open.

And she laughs. Hi, I’m Charlie. Let’s try this again.