19

With a groan, River turned onto her side, covering her head with the luxurious bed sheets. Despite the comfort of the bed, she felt awful. More than awful. Her body ached, especially her stomach, as though she had performed strenuous exercise during the night, but that pain was nothing compared to the throbbing pain in her head. She felt sick.

Flipping the covers away, she twisted her legs off the bed, kicking an empty ice bucket at the side. Except the bucket was not completely empty. She could see vomit inside and that made her feel even more sick. Clutching her hand to her mouth, she raced to the en suite bathroom and managed to lift the lid and seat of the toilet in time to retch into the bowl.

Kneeling, she cradled the white, porcelain bowl, pressing her forehead against the smooth, chilled white of the toilet. Her stomach twisted more, complaining of more, imminent, evacuations. With a groan, she waited for her body to settle down before lifting her head. Her hair fell across her face and she reached up for toilet paper to wipe her mouth.

The silk sleeve of pyjamas slid down her arm and that confused her. The pyjamas she had brought with her were cotton. And pink. Not silk and a sultry burgundy. Frowning, she tugged the front of the top outwards, looking down to her chest. Somehow, she had got changed into clothing she didn't own. No bra. Hair unfastened and loose. She didn't remember doing any of that.

Still touching the pyjama top, her fingers rubbing against the soft material, she rose to unsteady feet and turned toward the sink, where she had placed her toiletries. A gulp of mouthwash, a spit that almost turned into another vomiting session and a rinse of water and she still felt awful. She could still feel wrinkles in her forehead as she looked around the bathroom before heading back to her room to find Celeste asleep in the chair at the other side of the bed, in a dressing gown.

Then River realised why she felt confused. This wasn't her room. The mouthwash she had used was not hers. She clutched the pyjama top with tight fingers as she began to recall flashes of the night before. She spied her evening gown, dangling from a hanger beside Celeste's dress, and reached for it, knocking both dresses to the floor.

"You're awake." With several blinks and a finger passing across her eyes, Celeste lifted her head, groaning as she adjusted her position, the front of her dressing gown opening and giving River a flash of Celeste's cleavage. "How are you feeling?"

"Embarrassed." River spun around, turning her back to Celeste, and wished she had not moved so fast. "Embarrassed. Guilty. Ill. Under-dressed. Did I mention 'embarrassed'? I'm sorry. I should go. I should ... I should ..."

She almost didn't reach the toilet and felt even more embarrassed that she now vomited while Celeste sat only a few feet away. And also due to the fact she hadn't flushed the toilet the first time. Pressing the button, the rush of water carrying away the expunged contents of her stomach away, she performed the same actions as before. It felt too late to worry about using Celeste's mouthwash now.

At the door to the en suite, she leaned upon the frame, trying not to look at Celeste. Every calculation she ran through her head about the best way to escape this situation involved Celeste seeing her again. She had no option. Taking small steps, holding the collar of the pyjama top closed, she crept back towards her dress.

With eyes dipped, she crouched, picking up the dress and then spied her underwear on the drawers and her shoes beside the bed. All far too close to Celeste for River to reach without getting too close to the woman she had made a fool of herself in front of.

"You don't look well. Get back into bed and I'll order orange juice and some strong coffee." Rising, Celeste moved towards the room phone, lifting the receiver and glancing towards River. "Toast. Toast is good for hangovers, right?"

"No. I'm fine. I should get back to my own room." Her stomach roiled once again at the thought of eating anything. "I should get back. Get back, crawl into a ball, get dressed, feel awful, ring for a taxi and catch a train home. I've embarrassed you enough. And, I think, I should probably never set foot outside of my flat. Ever. I've ruined your big night and I made a scene and I drank your wine and I'm wearing your pyjamas and being sick in your toilet and ... oh, my god! You undressed me! You saw me ..."

"Naked. Yes." Celeste had allowed River to waffle on far longer than River felt comfortable with. She still held the phone receiver. "Don't worry. I've seen a woman's naked body before. I have one, after all. Yes, hello, I'd like two orange juices, a pot of strong black coffee for two and two servings of toast sent to my room, please. Thank you."

Celeste had ignored River declining the room service, replacing the receiver and turning to smile at River. The dressing gown drooped from one shoulder, revealing her smooth, perfectly shaped shoulder and River almost choked, dropping her head and feeling her cheeks redden. It was as though Celeste didn't realise, or care, what such a sight could do.

"Can you, just, straighten that, please?" Looking anywhere but at Celeste, River wiggled her finger in the general direction of Celeste and her revealing dressing gown. "After my revelation, yesterday, I don't think it's appropriate to flash your bits and bobs around me so casually. Or undressing me. I don't think that's really fair on either of us, frankly. I can't even believe you're being this nice. How can you talk to me after last night?"

"Do you think I care so little for you that it would make me think less of you?" Celeste appeared before River, her hands tugging the belt of the dressing gown tight, and then she lifted River's chin with a finger. "I don't know how I feel about everything, but I am still your friend, at least. Friends get drunk all the time."

With the dressing gown now fastened and revealing nothing, River could look at Celeste. Even this early in the morning, before she had even woken up properly, without make-up or having run a brush through her short hair, Celeste looked amazing. River didn't know what Celeste meant, about knowing how she felt, but it seemed clear that Celeste didn't hate her. That made River feel a little better, emotionally, if not physically.

In record time, a knock came to the door and Celeste rubbed River's shoulder as she swept by to open the door for the room service. A young man entered, nodding towards both Celeste and River, not even blinking an eye at two barely dressed women sharing a room, placed a full tray upon the top of the dresser and then spun upon his heel. He left without a second glance and Celeste closed the door behind him.

Of course the young man wouldn't care about two women in the same room! This wasn't the bad old days, where people had to hide their sexuality. It was the twenty-first century and the only person who seemed to care was River herself. Celeste had started to pour out the coffee into two mugs and then passed River a slice of dry toast and a glass of orange juice.

Defeated, River sat upon the bed and began nibbling on the toast. She felt as though she hadn't eaten in days and, before too long, she felt her stomach start to settle. The banging in her head had not subsided, but she had managed to ignore it for the few moments that she and Celeste had talked. Celeste leaned back against the drawers and watched River as she, too, ate a slice of toast.

"I'm sorry I've ruined everything." Her eyes flitted away, avoiding the gaze of Celeste, and fell upon the perspex award that sat upon the dresser, peeking out from behind Celeste. "It was your big night, in front of all your friends and colleagues and there I was, feeling sorry for myself, getting drunk, acting like an idiot and ... oh, please tell me I didn't look under any kilts!"

"Not as far as I know. And I hardly took my eyes off you all night. You looked beautiful." Even as she said it, Celeste coughed and turned, putting down the last uneaten nub of toast. She took a drink of coffee and rapped her knuckles on the surface of the dresser. "Right. I'm going to have a shower. Don't run away. We have to plan today's plantation visit."

"Wait. We're still doing that?" River's eyes followed Celeste as she headed towards the en suite. "I thought we'd be heading back straight away. You know, after ... everything."

"Not a chance." Celeste popped her head back out of the door, the dressing gown gone from her pristine shoulders. "I never turn aside from my plans. Never. Besides, they're expecting us. Eat up. Drink all the coffee. You'll need it to wake up."

The head disappeared and River couldn't help but think about the fact that Celeste stood in that room, mere feet away, completely naked. She tried to shake her head, to rid herself of the vision of water droplets sliding down Celeste's body, but that only made her head throb all the more and the feeling of sickness to return.

She had to take her mind from thinking about Celeste and the only thing that could fill her mind better than any other was the thoughts of tea. As she considered the thought of visiting the next tea plantation, she moved to the dresser, picking up another slice of toast and a mug of coffee. The coffee tasted so bitter, she grimaced, wishing that she had tea, instead.

Her eyes wandered around the room as she drank and ate, until they returned to the dresser and the award that sat there, not left in pride of place. Only left there, as though tossed aside. Sucking toast crumbs from her fingers and thumb, she picked up the award and, as she read the attached plaque, she wondered what a 'franchise manager' actually did.