Page 50 of Never Gonna Happen

Emily looked up from her notebook. ‘Me?’

‘Yes,’ said Mr Hunter. ‘It’s an all-inclusive resort for young travellers, mostly designed with Instagrammers in mind.’ He said the word like he wasn’t entirely sure what an Instagrammer was, and definitely didn’t trust it. ‘Much more your kind of thing than mine.’

Emily tried to imagine what kind of world Mr Hunter thought she lived in, where an all-inclusive Instagram hotel was more ‘her thing’ than a static caravan in Dorset.

‘Where is it? The hotel?’

‘It’s in Mauritius.’

Emily pressed her lips shut, worried she might make squeaky noises if she said anything. She wrote ‘Mauritius’ in shorthand in her notebook like this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having with your boss on a Thursday afternoon in January.

‘I also wondered if my son would like to come.’

The blood drained from Emily’s face at the thought of being trapped in a tropical island hotel with Adam. ‘Which one?’

‘That’s very funny,’ said Mr Hunter drily. ‘James, of course. You can both be my spies. I can book you separate rooms if you’d like, all above board.’

Emily blushed, not sure how to respond. She’d leave that for now, let Jamie deal with it.

‘So if we’re in the hotel, where will you stay?’

‘I have a house on the west coast of the island. I’ll stay there, deal with some other business matters. You and James can do three nights in the hotel, then come back and join me. We’ll be there and back in a week.’

A million thoughts rattled in Emily’s head, but ‘oh my God it sounds amazing’ just sounded stupid and trite.

‘Sam has told me a lot about Mauritius,’ she said. ‘I’d love to see it, and I’m really happy to help you decide on the hotel.’

‘Good,’ said Mr Hunter, clearly satisfied with her answer. ‘Let’s go through dates and travel arrangements today, so you can get everything booked tomorrow. You might want to speak to James sooner rather than later, see if you can lure him away from the stables for a week.’

‘I’ll do my best.’

Mr Hunter smiled knowingly. ‘I’m sure you will, Emily.’

‘You’re going to Mauritius with Dad?’ asked Jamie, holding up a red blanket. She’d found him in the tack room after work, folding freshly washed horse laundry.

‘Yes. Next Friday.’

‘Shit. Come upstairs.’

He put down the blanket, then hurried upstairs to his apartment and put the kettle on.

‘Why is Dad going to Mauritius, and why does he want me to come?’

‘He’s thinking of investing in a resort and wants us to stay there for a few days. Like mystery shoppers.’

‘Why can’t he do it?’

Emily explained about the Instagram angle and him wanting to get a proper idea of what it was like.

Jamie laughed. ‘This sounds like a dastardly plot where you lure me out of the country for a romantic holiday.’

‘Yes,’ said Emily, rolling her eyes. ‘Because I definitely have that kind of power. It was your dad’s idea.’

‘Just for a week.’

‘One week. Of very hard work.’

‘And cocktails and palm trees.’