Page 89 of In the Same Boat

I’m fast learning that there are clubs, and then there are Monaco clubs – and what better place to learn such a lesson than Velours.

The building itself sits right on the waterfront – which already makes it infinitely cooler than any club we have back home – all smoked glass and golden lighting, with a queue of beautiful people standing outside – each one of them looking so gorgeous they look curated, like they’re ornamental.

A velvet rope curves around the entrance, naturally, reminding everyone what side of it they belong on – until someone tells them otherwise.

We follow Nico, past the crowd, where he greets one of the doormen with a pat on the back.

‘We’re on the guest list,’ he tells me.

My eyes widen, but I try to keep just how impressed I am in check.

‘Oh my goodness, the guest list,’ Mum says.

‘All the times we’ve been to Monte Carlo – you’ve never got me on the guest list,’ Hank complains.

‘You’re on it tonight, aren’t you?’ Nico says with a laugh.

As we head inside, Nico grins. He looks annoyingly good tonight – honestly, the less he annoys me, the more I fancy him. He’s wearing smart trousers – not shorts, which is usually what you’ll find him in – and a crisp white shirt with two or three buttons undone. It is flirtatiously low, like a trap for thirsty women. It’s hard to resist peeking in there. Of course, I know what he’s got going on under there, and it’s definitely worth a look.

For better or worse, Nico and I practically downed a couple of Hugo Spritzes before we left, and I can feel them surging through my veins. I’m not drunk-drunk. Just pleasantly tipsy, enough to make me all easy-breezy, to help me worry less about executing our diabolical plan – essentially, to give our parents a bad time.

‘Well,’ Hank says slowly, looking around as we walk through the entrance. ‘I suddenly feel over and underdressed.’

Mum loops her arm through his immediately.

‘You look handsome.’

He visibly brightens for a second. Then frowns again.

‘It’s a bit loud in here, isn’t it?’

Nico laughs.

‘What?’ Hank says. ‘It is.’

‘I know,’ Nico replies. ‘It’s not that. It’s just… this is the entrance, there are no speakers in here. This is the main room…’

Nico opens the door and the volume of the music hits us like a tidal wave. It almost takes my poor mum off her feet.

I can feel the bass churning the contents of my stomach, like when you shake a bottle of champagne. I feel like I’m going to pop, and the flashing lights are a real attack on the senses. It’s a really cool place though, with lit-up dance floors and mirrored walls. Upstairs balconies curve around the main room, filled with people leaning over railings, sipping cocktails that probably cost a small fortune.

Everything in the room smells rich – whatever fancy smell they’re diffusing, the clientele, the drinks. Like most clubs, it still seems like a great place to make bad choices, I just feel like those bad choices need to be a little fancier here.

There’s a DJ in the middle of the room, his decks wrapped around him. Above him, there’s a huge disco ball shaped like a light bulb, pinging off the disco lights in all directions.

Someone greets Nico, shaking his hand, before leading us towards a booth tucked into one of the raised VIP sections overlooking the dance floor. Everything is velvet, the lighting is much lower, and the seating area looks more like a big bed. It is almost aggressively sexy – and still so loud. It’s perfect, for what we’re planning – and, yes, I realise how bad that sounds, but you know what I mean.

The first thing we’re going to do is get our parents drunk. They both like a drink, and Nico says the drinks are good here, so it’s not giving them anything they don’t want. But what would be a win for us is if they drink too much, maybe they embarrass themselves a little, regret everything tomorrow, have a hangover so bad they hold both Nico and me solely responsible – to the point where they suggest maybe Nico and I go somewhere else, somewhere more our scene, leaving them on the yacht to enjoy theirs.

‘Shots?’ Nico suggests immediately once we sit down.

‘Absolutely,’ I agree.

Mum laughs.

‘You two are dangerous together,’ she points out. ‘I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had shots.’

‘All the more reason to let your hair down tonight,’ I suggest.