I got lost once. In Chadstone Shopping Plaza when I was six years old. Nothing too traumatising, I had spent most of my time in the Barbie doll section, fantasising about the next purchase I would beg my mum for. I had been alright—I’d known where I was, no drama. In fact, at the time, I hadn’t known what all the fuss was about. This, on the other hand, was very different. There were no hot-pink glittery distractions and I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I was so screwed.

I couldn’t believe they left me. And where the hell was my stuff?

I sat slumped in the lounge area, cold to my core, struggling to believe the harsh reality of what had happened.

My mind flashed to Jodie’s sparkling smile at dinner as she lifted her glass to me. ‘To new friends.’ To our chat in the bathroom, her laughter as she said, ‘Oh, Sammi, you didn’t really think I would destroy you, did you?’ And her promise to wake me.

I buried my head in my hands. I was such an idiot. How had I not learned that when something seemed too good to be true, it always likely was? Had I been so eager for her to like me that I simply discounted all the dirty looks and threats? Well, she had done a pretty good job. Jodie: one, me: zero. Unless of course I was just being paranoid; surely someone couldn’t be that evil … could they?

After all I had been through in this hell-hole, I thought that I would welcome the sight of Gabriello wheeling my suitcase towards me but, at this point in time, all I could think about was trying to come up with some kind of plan.

‘Here you go; it was in the luggage holding area.’

‘How thoughtful,’ I said bitterly, imagining Jodie lovingly zipping up my luggage and dragging it to reception.

Gabriello sat at the coffee table opposite me, his eyes full of concern. ‘Signora, I do not understand. Was your sister not meeting you here?’

I blinked, looking at him. ‘My sister?’

He shifted in his seat. ‘Luciano said he overheard the crazy one telling Maria that you had cancelled the tour because you were catching up with your sister.’

Bingo! The crazy one—Jodie.

Though I had my suspicions, hearing the exact details of how Jodie had plotted my downfall made it all the worse. She had turned my plan to meet up with my sister in Venice into a means to destroy me. Wow, if I hadn’t stayed in another room, would she have laced my gnocchi with a sedative? Or clubbed me over the back of the head with her make-up bag? My leg was jigging up and down, I was so mad. In the space of a few hours I had gone from ecstasy to agony, from wanting to track Jodie down and tell her what for to just wanting to grab my bags and leave this place forever.

‘I am guessing this is not the case.’

My crazed eyes flicked up to Gabriello. ‘No, no, it wasn’t.’

I sighed, rubbing my hands on my thighs. Which was worse—the feeling of abandonment or the reality of having to spend another night here?

‘What are you going to do?’ Gabriello asked tentatively.

I shrugged. ‘Drag myself back to my room, take stock, form a plan B.’ Though part of me was hell-bent on revenge, most of me was happy to never see them again.

‘Ah, yes, about that,’ said Gabriello, his face twisting in distress.

‘What?’

He looked as though he was struggling to form the words, dreading what he was about to say. The penny finally dropped.

‘Oh, of course I will pay for my extra nights here, don’t think I’m going to be dodgy about it. I hadn’t planned for it but I will fix it up right now.’ I went to stand but Gabriello stopped me.

‘No, Sammi, it is not the money.’

‘Oh.’ I slowly sat back down.

‘Your room is already booked by someone else.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, if I have to move, I have to move.’

‘Unfortunately the hotel is fully booked. I am afraid that you will have to find alternative arrangements.’

Well, today was just getting better and better.

‘Of course we can help you find another hotel—Luciano can even take you there.’

He was being kind, sympathetic, helpful—all the right things—but I was so overwhelmed in that moment that nothing could have made me feel any better. Until my glorious Plan B hit me like a freight train.

‘Thanks, Gabriello, but I think I’m sorted,’ I said. ‘Would you mind if I stored my luggage until I need it?’

‘Of course, for however long you need.’

‘Grazie.’ I beamed, hopping to my feet and making a determined path to the internet kiosk, thinking that perhaps not all hope was lost. There would just be a slight detour in my plans.

I had never been to Paris, although I felt like I had from listening to Claire, who spoke, at length, of its beauty. I was suddenly filled with excitement. I was trading in a not-altogether-cheap, bug-infested hotel for free accommodation in the city of lights. Screw you, Jodie! As gutted as I was not to be exploring more of Italy, survival mode kicked in. I was not going to run home with my tail between my legs. But when I did choose to go home, I would storm through the doors of Jan and John Buzzo’s travel agency and demand a refund. ‘Bellissimo’ was a really misleading word. As the brochures didn’t showcase a girl crying and disfigured by bug bites, I’d be calling them out on false advertising.

I pulled up a chair, mentally pushing the Buzzos to the back of my mind; besides, it was the weekend, so contacting them about my disastrous abandonment by my tour group was not going to get me anywhere today. But what I could get was a plane ticket to Paris, to be comforted by my big sister. I felt better already, moving to turn on the computer screen, only to still.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ I lifted the tiny yellow Post-it note from the computer screen that read:

GUASTO! (OUT OF ORDER)

What was going on with my life right now? Was I cursed? What had I done in a past life to deserve this? The beautiful man in my bed last night was just a way for the universe to lull me into a false sense of security, because come the light of day—bam! The universe had whacked me straight between the eyes, repeatedly. Just like it always did.

I sighed, sliding out of the chair and dragging myself to the front desk, where Gabriello seemed to be even less excited to see me. I slapped down the Post-it note on the counter.

‘Can I please use the phone?’