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Paige arrived at the airport brimming with nerves. Was she totally mad to go on holiday with a complete stranger?
Scrolling through my Instagram messages, one caught my eye.
It read: What are you doing next month? I’m off work and want to go on h_o_liday.
It was from a guy named Grant. I didn’t know him in real life, but we’d been following each other’s accounts for months.
He was tall, dark, handsome — just my type.
But I was puzzled. This was the first message he’d ever sent me, and it was definitely very forward!
I typed out a flirty reply: Is that an invite?
Better than going on my own, he responded.
I thought he was joking, but when he started sending me links to hotels, I realised he was deadly serious.
He was inviting me abroad on our first date!
Before I knew it, we’d booked seven nights in Portugal, splitting the cost.
I had a one-year-old son, so before committing to anything I made sure my mum could babysit.
‘You can’t be serious,’ she said, after I explained my plans.
But eventually, she came around to the idea.
My dad, on the other hand, couldn’t be convinced.
‘I think you’re mad,’ he said.
‘It’ll be like Love Island, just without the cameras,’ I winked.
We lived at opposite ends of the country, so I knew nothing serious would come from it, but that wasn’t about to stop me having fun in the sun.
A few weeks later, I arrived at the airport and doubts began creeping in.
I was sitting in departures, my heart racing, when I spotted him among a crowd of people.
I breathed a sight of relief. He looked even better in real life.
‘Hi, I’m Grant,’ he said.
‘I’m Paige,’ I replied, blushing.
We had some time to kill before our flight, so we went to Nando’s.
While we ate, I snapped a sneaky picture of him to send to my friends.
Guys, this is what he looks like, in case he kidnaps me, I typed.
I was joking, but I did take safety precautions before leaving. I made sure all my friends could view my location on Snapchat, and my family knew which hotel I was staying in.
Our food arrived and Grant pointed at the portion of butter on the side of my plate.
‘Are you going to eat that?’ he asked.
I passed it over to him and to my horror, he popped the whole thing in his mouth and began chewing.
Eww, I thought.
On the plane, we chatted away and the butter incident slipped my mind. We had great banter and soon enough we touched down in Faro, Portugal.
Walking into our hotel room, Grant dropped his bags and let out a groan.
‘I can’t believe it!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’ve got two single beds.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ I replied, puzzled.
‘I’m not sleeping on my own!’ he said, as he pushed the beds together.
I was taken aback that he expected us to share a bed right away. After all, we had barely known each other five hours. But I didn’t want to make things awkward, so I went along with it.
That night, exhausted from travelling, we went straight to sleep.
The following morning, I slipped into a pink bikini and made my way to the pool.
‘Wow, you look amazing,’ Grant said.
‘Thanks,’ I replied.
Later, as we swam in the pool, I felt a hand brush over my thigh. I looked up to find Grant inches away from my face, leaning in for a hug.
Instinctively I moved away, conscious of the people around us.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Public affection makes me cringe.’
It was way too much, too fast.
From that moment on, Grant annoyed me. I couldn’t walk from one side of the hotel to the other without him following me like a lost puppy.
In the evenings, while I sat doing my make-up, he hovered over my shoulder, asking questions.
I felt myself getting vexed, so I escaped to the bathroom and messaged my friends.
Help! He’s so annoying, I can’t get a moment alone.
You need to grin and bear it, came back one reply.
Try not to let it ruin your holiday, another chimed.
Meanwhile, he continued to make moves and every time he got too close, I reminded him about my PDA rule.
So instead, he began showering me with compliments.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.
‘Your bum is amazing,’ he said, less than five minutes later.
It was non-stop and extremely off-putting.
But the final nail in the coffin came when we were sitting at dinner on the second evening, and he stole my portion of butter once again.
As I watched him chew the whole thing, I realised I was repulsed by him.
I wasn’t about to let it ruin my holiday though. After all, I’d paid my own way here, so it wasn’t like I owed him anything.
I decided to carry on sharing a bed with him, but there was zero possibility of anything romantic happening between us.
The following evening we went out for drinks and the bar was packed. After a few drinks I began chatting with a group of lads.
Instead of joining in, Grant took himself off to the corner to sulk.
I carried on laughing and joking with my new friends and a few minutes later, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind.
I turned around to find myself face to face with Grant — and he was leaning in for a kiss!
‘Get lost!’ I yelled.
His face went white as a sheet.
He turned on his heel and walked out without a word.
Maybe he’s finally got the message, I thought.
When I arrived back at our room the next morning, his face was thunder.
‘You proper mugged me off last night,’ he said.
I felt anger rise up inside me.
‘Firstly, I didn’t get with anybody and secondly, I’m not your girlfriend!’ I seethed. ‘We might be on holiday together, but that doesn’t mean you can control me!’
I marched out of the room and slammed the door.
I messaged my friends to explain the situation.
Maybe it’s time to come home, suggested one.
But I didn’t want to cut my holiday short.
I tried to get on with it, but Grant started making snide remarks and tried to play them off as jokes.
I couldn’t be around him one more second, so I went online and booked a flight home for the next day.
As we lay in bed the next morning, Grant rolled over and started spooning me.
‘It’s too early for a cuddle,’
I said, pushing him away.
‘It’s always too early for a cuddle with you,’ he replied. ‘You’ve wasted my time.’
‘That’s OK, because I’m leaving in two hours anyway,’ I told him.
‘No you’re not,’ he said.
I showed him the boarding pass on my phone and watched in satisfaction as his face fell.
He didn’t try to convince me to stay.
Eventually, he went to the bathroom and I used the opportunity to start packing my suitcase.
Down at reception, we said our goodbyes.
‘Hope you have a safe flight,’ he said awkwardly.
‘No hard feelings,’ I said.
As soon as I arrived at the airport I made sure I blocked him on Instagram, and I haven’t heard from him since.
My friends welcomed me home with a bottle of prosecco, gagging to hear all the details. But my parents were less than impressed.
‘That’s what happens when you go on holiday with a stranger,’ my dad scolded.
I wouldn’t rule out another date abroad, but I’d definitely get to know them a little better first.
Paige Allan, 22, Edinburgh