Yanni jumps away from me like a scalded cat, dragging the towel from his neck and throwing it over my groin to spare my blushes as he stands, simultaneously pulling up his shorts as he does. I notice he keeps his body between me and the interloper, protecting me from view while I scramble to re-tie my briefs and do up my shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. How sweet!
I'm struck by the absurdity of the situation and cannot repress the giggle that is bubbling within me, despite the scene that is about to play out. For the second time since my arrival here I feel like a naughty teenager.
My clothes now secured and my decency regained I stand beside Yanni as he turns to face the unwelcome visitor.
Eloise!!
This should be good. She has already made no bones about her dislike of me and frankly, I'm not overly keen on her, but, Yanni IS her boyfriend and she just caught him about to bonk the enemy! I do feel a little ashamed as cheating is not my thing, and I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of that. It hurts.
"Well??!! What the fuck? This is NOT the welcome back I expected!" She shouts, her shrill voice echoing in the double height space.
"Weeze, look, can we talk about this privately? Just you and me, alone?" Yanni pleads.
"Yanni, I've only been gone a couple of weeks and you've already jumped into fucking the help?! Really? Im disappointed in you. I thought you had more class but clearly I was wrong about you, but not about her! I told you she was an attention whore who…."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP WEEZE!! NOW!" Yanni suddenly barks beside me, so loudly and surprisingly that I jump with the shock. He sounds pissed!
He steps towards Eloise, the colour draining from her face as he approaches her, informing me that he is wearing his murderously angry face. I saw it in the hotel in London and it is terrifying. I actually pity her at this point, I don't want to be on the receiving end of that icy cold stare ever again.
"Who the fuck do you think you are Weeze? Don't EVER talk about her like that again, do you hear me? She is not 'the help' as you put it. She is here to do a job for us yes, but that gives you zero right to talk about her that way, do you understand me?!"
The last four words of that sentence I can tell are muttered through a clenched jaw, aggressive and threatening in both intent and tone.
Eloise gulps and nods meekly and takes a step back from him, hands before her in supplication, apologising to him as she does so.
What?
She comes home from a trip away to the man it is evident she loves and finds him about to engage in the horizontal mambo with a woman she hates and SHE is apologising? That makes no sense! She is a strong woman and this behaviour just seems wrong.
I step forward and look her in the eye, and am not surprised to see tears on her lashes, understandable in this situation. I feel crushing guilt now as I witness her obvious distress. I begin to speak but she raises her hands dismissively and shakes her head.
"I don't want to hear it ok! I'm going to bed", and with that she turns on her heels and walks towards her room.
Yanni turns to face me and attempts to put his hands on my hips but I block them and move away from him. His face drops and he raises an eyebrow quizzically.
"That was a mistake Yanni. It shouldn't have happened. Eloise is right, I am the help, and YOU are her boyfriend. She clearly loves you, and I thought you loved her judging by the way you guys are with each other when you're together. This was wrong, and I'm sorry for my part in this situation. I hope you can convince her that you are sorry and she can forgive you. You can blame me if you want to, tell her I seduced you, I mean, she already hates me so it won't affect our relationship, but it might help to save yours" and with that I wish him a Goodnight and retreat to my room leaving him standing alone.
I've been alone in my room for around an hour now, trying to distract myself from the throbbing ache between my legs by reviewing some of the footage I took of the guys at the fan sign I first met them at. Mistake!
I can't take my eyes off of Yanni. Every time his face enters the frame I smile, and I find myself rather irrationally craning my neck, trying to see him even when he is not on screen. Idiot. What is wrong with me?
Just as I decide that this is pretty masochistic behaviour and reach for the lid of my laptop to close it for the night I catch a fleeting glimpse of someone on screen that makes me pause. I go back a few frames and replay the footage. There, talking to Noah is Mr Lunchbox...…. BEN!! I knew I'd seen him before we met him earlier.
I rewatch the clip over and over. The guys don't seem to recognise him, but I decide that could be explained in a number of ways. They were at the end of a two week jam packed visit to the UK full of concerts, television and radio interviews and fan signs up and down the country, so were exhausted and paying little attention to the fans before them.
They possibly haven't seen him since leaving school nearly 10 years ago and people change a lot over time. Maybe they never really knew him despite his mum working for them and he attending the same school as them.
As I watch the footage again it seems that Noah is somewhat familiar with him, and their interaction does look awkward and intense. What is this?
My mind is in overdrive.
What are they talking about that has Noah looking so on edge?
Did any of the other guys hear their conversation?
Why is Ben at a fan sign in the UK? He doesn't strike me as a 5EX fan, especially taking into consideration the Metallica T-shirt he was wearing when he was here visiting Muriel.
I need to find out what he and Noah spoke about, but do I ask Noah, or maybe Ben? I'll check the audio on the footage later to see if I can hear anything, but it's unlikely. I do however have a very gifted friend who is a whizz when it comes to enhancing images and audio. I'll call him tomorrow and send him the clip. Hopefully he can help me out. My mind is whirring, questions piling up. I immediately begin writing them down so as not to forget them.
Deciding to have a relaxing soak in the bath I close my laptop and enter the bathroom, turning on the water and adding some scented oil to it. Rose patchouli, my favourite.
While the bath fills I brush my teeth, observing myself in the mirror as I do. That's when I notice the enormous purple bruise on my lower abdomen. A love bite! Come on! They are so trashy, and the behaviour of teenagers, which we clearly are not. Great! Thirty plus degrees everyday and I won't be wearing a bikini for a while, the shame of all the guys seeing it too uncomfortable to consider.
With a sigh I remove the few items of clothing I have on and climb into the bath, the warm water pleasantly soothing, the floral aroma of the oil hanging in the air. Laying back I turn over the events of the day, the discoveries I've made, and begin to plan what I will do with this information.
There is definitely something odd about the whole situation, and my naturally inquisitive mind needs to know what.