by Bloom, Tracy
‘Do you think they all think he means his lover died?’ hissed Braindead.
‘God, I hope not. We don’t need everyone going up to him afterwards and commiserating with him for his loss.’
‘I guess it’s the same thing though, isn’t it?’ said Braindead. ‘I mean, when you split up with someone. It’s a bit like grief. They may as well have died.’
‘Not sure that’s helpful to think of it like that though, is it?’ said Ben. ‘Especially for Ollie. Jesus, is he crying?’
Ollie had his head in his hands as the opening bars of his chosen song started to strike up.
‘He hasn’t, has he?’ said Ben, recognising the opening bars.
‘Hasn’t what?’
‘Chosen what I think he’s chosen. Yes, he has. Oh no, I can’t bear to look.’
Ollie took his hands away from his face and began the mournful telling of Celine Dion’s classic hit for the sad and lonely, ‘All By Myself’.
‘Do we let him do it?’ said Braindead. ‘No, we can’t let him do it, can we?’ he added, jumping off his stool. ‘Come on, we don’t have any choice.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Come on,’ he urged.
Ben gulped a mouthful of beer and followed Braindead down towards Ollie. We can’t just drag him off the stage, he thought, but then something even worse occurred to him. Was Braindead serious? Yes, he was. He watched in horror as he picked up two spare microphones and handed one to Ben. He turned to face the audience, slinging one arm over Ollie’s shoulders to join in with him just as he reached the chorus. Of course Ben had no option but to join them, the three of them linking arms as they faced their fellow holidaymakers, tears streaming down Ollie’s cheeks. This wasn’t how Ben had expected his holiday to pan out.
* * *
‘You all right, mate?’ Ben asked Braindead later after they had put Ollie to bed fully clothed and comatose.
‘Yeah, why shouldn’t I be?’ he said.
‘Well, it’s not the holiday you were expecting, is it? Putting drunken men to bed at night and your wife having more fun on a stranger’s hen party than building sandcastles.’
Braindead said nothing for a moment.
‘I just don’t get it,’ he said eventually. ‘Why does she need to go out with that lot when she’s got me and Logan? Why wouldn’t you want to spend every single moment with that boy? I mean, he’s the business. I just don’t understand what she’s doing. I know where I’d rather be.’
Ben slung his arm around his shoulder.
‘Perhaps this day trip you’ve organised for us all tomorrow will give you some family time together,’ he said.
‘Hope so,’ said Braindead, shrugging. ‘A secluded private beach and our own barbeque. What’s not to love? I’m hoping it wilI make Abby realise that family holidays can be just as much fun as hen parties.’
‘Of course it will,’ said Ben. ‘It’s going to be great. It’s exactly what everyone needs on this holiday. A great day out together.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘I can’t believe I’m going on a day trip,’ said Daniel, approaching the rest of the gang gathered on the pavement outside the hotel the next day.
‘What’s wrong with a day trip?’ asked Katy.
‘It’s the words, it’s the sound of it, it’s everything,’ said Daniel. ‘I can’t go back to Leeds and tell them I went on a day trip. Old people go on day trips. Old people who have no imagination so rely on other people with no imagination to take them to places they didn’t really know they wanted to go to in the first place where they can be bored silly, eat their own body weight in unhealthy food and then go home and watch Taggart. If I ever turn out like that,’ he said, turning to Gabriel, ‘you will shoot me, won’t you? If I ever watch Taggart, just put me out of my misery there and then.’
‘It’s a promise,’ said Gabriel solemnly.
‘Well, I thought it would be good for us all to do something together,’ said Braindead. ‘Seeing as we haven’t really managed it so far.’
‘It’s a great idea, Braindead,’ said Katy. ‘Ignore Daniel, he’s just a miserable old goat.’
‘He shouldn’t be,’ said Braindead. ‘He did get to use the honeymoon suite again last night, after all.’
‘Some use that was,’ huffed Daniel.
‘What?’ said Katy. ‘Don’t tell me you missed out again! You had hours to make use of that room. Gabriel didn’t collect Silvie from our room until after ten!’
‘Well,’ said Daniel. He looked at a loss. ‘We were just tired. We went out for a meal then rushed back to the suite but I fell asleep. Having been out until late the night before, I just didn’t have the energy. A few Martinis and I was out for the count.’
‘Out late two nights running,’ scoffed Braindead. ‘Now who sounds old? You sound like you need to go on a day trip and then watch some Taggart.’
‘Look, it’s no big deal,’ said Daniel. ‘When you have a baby, everyone knows that sleep is the priority, right? Then the baby grows a bit and you get your verve back. That’s just normal, right?’
‘We shall see, shall we?’ said Katy. ‘Our turn tonight. Are you still okay to look after Millie and Jack for a couple of hours?’ she asked Daniel.
‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘You planning on using the room or going out for a meal? Now there’s a dilemma for you. Would you rather do it in the honeymoon suite or have a steak and a cocktail?’
‘That is an impossible question to answer,’ said Katy, holding her head on one side. ‘I mean, I don’t know what I’ll be in the mood for, come 5 p.m.’
‘Exactly,’ said Daniel. ‘I never realised that having children takes all the spontaneity out of it. Opportunities now need to be spotted from a mile off and strategically planned. That is not what it’s all about, is it? Talk about the opposite of foreplay: “Can you do a week next Wednesday because Silvie has a play date?”’
‘Anyway, speaking of well-planned evenings out, how did it go with Ollie last night?’ Gabriel asked Braindead. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me prioritising my husband.’
Daniel gasped. ‘I actually think hearing him say that is better than you know what,’ he said, looking slightly flushed.
‘Well,’ said Braindead. ‘We found a great bar to watch the golf in.’
‘What?’ said Daniel. ‘I thought you were off out to find him a lady friend?’
‘We did attempt to after that but it turns out he can’t chat up women to save his life, he can’t dance and he’s a mournful singer.’
‘I should have come with you, shouldn’t I?’ said Daniel, shaking his head.
‘You were supposed to be having sex!’ exclaimed Katy.
‘I know, but if there’s anyone who should be teaching the poor lad how to talk to women it should be me. I am, after all, the master of it.’
‘Really, it’s such a waste you’re gay, isn’t it?’ commented Katy.
‘It really is,’ said Daniel.
‘Look, the coach is here now,’ said Braindead. ‘Are we all ready for a grand day out?’
‘Yeah,’ said Logan jumping up and down in excitement next to his dad. Nobody else joined in.
* * *
It took approximately twenty minutes to get them on the coach as Daniel insisted on having an argument with the tour guide. Apparently you weren’t supposed to take pushchairs on the coach, but Daniel was insisting that theirs came with them. A stand-up row commenced with the two of them standing nose to nose until Gabriel intervened in Spanish and somehow managed to convince the tour guide that the pushchair should go in the boot of the coach and they should get on their way.
The entire coach gave a sigh of relief as they pulled away and clapped Gabriel on his way back to his seat as he sat down shyly.
‘What did you say to her?’ Daniel hissed at his husband.
‘I said she had beautiful eyes and that you were intimidated by her. You needed to show her you were powerful because you have a complex about yo
ur masculinity so in the interests of not delaying the rest of the passengers, would she allow me to put the pushchair in the boot of the coach and get you to sit down? I also asked her who her optician was as I liked her glasses.’
‘I’m not sure I’m pleased about any of your tactics,’ said Daniel huffily.
‘We are on our way and the pushchair is with us. I would say my tactics have been most successful.’
‘Attention, please,’ said the guide, tapping into a microphone. ‘Apologies for the slight delay,’ she continued, staring at Daniel. ‘We now have an approximately fifty-five-minute journey to our destination.’
‘Fifty-five minutes!’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘I could walk there quicker. I mean, it’s only just around the bay, isn’t it? Didn’t they say it was fifteen minutes away when we booked it?’
Gabriel asked the lady a question in Spanish.
‘She says we have to make four stops at other hotels until we get to the private beach,’ he said. ‘That’s why it takes so long.’
‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘This is already a nightmare.’
The woman at the front of the coach threw another comment at Gabriel in Spanish.
Gabriel smiled but he did not translate.
‘What did she say?’ asked Daniel.
‘That you are a very rude Englishman and she wonders why I tolerate you.’
‘Did you tell her it was due to my charm and good nature and great looks?’ said Daniel, raising his eyebrows.
‘No, I said it was because you had an enormous… apartment and I married you for your money.’
‘I’ll take that,’ said Daniel. ‘She’s only jealous. I mean, what kind of man is she ever going to attract? Is that a moustache?’
Again, Gabriel did a translation. The lady smiled and blew Daniel a kiss.
‘I told her that when you meet women like her you wish you were straight.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Daniel, turning to face the window. ‘In her dreams.’
* * *
Abby, Daniel and Ben looked green by the time they got off the coach at the ‘enchanting beachfront location’. The road down to the seafront had been long and winding and noisy as all the babies on board decided to kick off at the same time.
‘Seriously?’ said Daniel, staggering off. ‘I have never felt so sick in all of my life. I don’t think I can even hold Silvie.’
‘Here, give her to me,’ said Gabriel, coming up behind him. ‘I’ll have her.’
‘You will make someone a wonderful husband one day, you know,’ said Daniel, handing her over. He collapsed onto the floor and held his head in his hands.
‘Okay, everyone,’ said the tour guide, striding past Daniel and standing in front of the dispirited crowd that had alighted from the bus and gathered on the tarmac of the car park. ‘We have a short walk to our exclusive beach where drinks are waiting for us and some very special local entertainment. Please follow me.’
Daniel groaned again. ‘I’m not sure I can move,’ he said.
The tour guide rippled out a flash of Spanish directed at Gabriel.
‘She says that you look so pale, like a vampire,’ translated Gabriel.
‘Vampire!’ said Daniel, looking up sharply at the tour guide but it was too late, she had turned her back and was starting to lead the group away. ‘Did she really say that or are you winding me up now?’ he asked.
‘No, she really said that,’ smiled Gabriel. ‘I think she doesn’t believe we are together. She thinks I must be joking that I married you and so she is enjoying this pulling apart of the pathetic Englishman in front of his face in a foreign language.’
‘You haven’t defended me?’
Gabriel shook his head, laughing. ‘This is much funnier,’ he said.
‘But she thinks you are in on the joke?’
‘Uh huh,’ said Gabriel. ‘What a blessing to understand how you come across in a foreign country,’ he told him. ‘What great learning you can get from that.’ He turned his back and started to follow the rest of the crowd.
‘My husband…’ Daniel began. ‘My husband is… is…’
‘Is doing an utterly sterling job of showing you that you need to be more considerate of other people,’ said Katy. ‘And to get down off your high horse sometimes and just be… just be like everyone else instead of thinking you constantly deserve better than everyone else.’
Daniel stared at her with his mouth open.
‘Come on,’ she continued, holding her hand out to him. ‘We’ll miss our free drink if we don’t catch up with them soon.’
* * *
Katy dared not look at Daniel when they arrived on the ‘exclusive beach’. Exclusive as a description was stretching it to say the least. They were clearly sharing their ‘exclusive’ experience with several other parties who had already arrived. Strips of the beach were separated by rows of upturned sun loungers forming temporary barriers to make sure no-one strayed. The worst thing was that whilst their strip was completely barren with only litter as decoration, the strip next to them had trestle tables covered with pristine white tablecloths and laden with pastries and cookies and coffee and cocktails. Guests lazed on sun loungers under blue and white parasols as a clown gathered the children under a gazebo and proceeded to make animals out of balloons, keeping them all enraptured and out of their parents’ hair.
Katy glanced at Daniel as they all hobbled onto the sand struggling with nappy bags and towels and beach toys as well as the essential sun cream, wet wipes, random children’s snacks and bottles of water. They dumped everything into a pile on the dusty sand and peered out to the cloudy sky as a plastic carrier bag whisked its untidy way across the shoreline. No-one said a word. All that could be heard were the shrieks of delight from the children next door as they went into battle with balloon-shaped swords.
Katy looked along their stretch of beach. Not a trestle table in sight, not a drink, not a snack, not a sun lounger, not a parasol and certainly not a hint of a clown. There was absolutely nothing to show for the euros they’d doled out on the promise of an exclusive all-you-can-eat and-drink beach barbeque with Spain’s finest local entertainment. There was just sand, litter and a much better party going on right next door. It couldn’t possibly be any worse.
* * *
‘Shall I go and find these free cocktails then?’ said Braindead brightly. Even he looked somewhat disappointed by the reality of his much-anticipated day trip.
It must have been a half-hour later when he arrived back with a tray of plastic glasses with a red liquid splashed into them.
He solemnly passed them round.
Daniel looked at him, then looked at Gabriel, who was too distracted by Silvie to take any notice. He took a sip. It was of the cheap sangria nature. The kind you buy in the supermarket alongside the cheap orange and apple juice. It tasted of sour grapes. It certainly didn’t taste like there was enough alcohol in it to dislodge the growing feeling that this trip had been a massive mistake.
Katy blew her cheeks out and sighed at the thought of being stranded here for at least four hours with the wind whipping sand into their faces, the clouds covering the sun and the alcohol that didn’t contain alcohol. The day suddenly stretched infinitely in front of her.
‘Is everyone okay?’ came a voice from behind them as the tour guide walked over.
No-one spoke for a moment. They all exchanged glances, knowing what was slowly dawning on them. That this was going to be a colossal waste of time and money and that little joy could come from this situation. That the marketing of the grand day out far exceeded the reality. They were trapped.
They should be honest. They should complain. But they couldn’t complain because it had been Braindead’s idea. Poor Braindead, who was having the worst holiday of all as his wife did her best to have a separate holiday entirely. If they complained, he would feel like it was his fault and no-one wanted to put him through that.
Katy glanced over at Daniel, who could have been their savin
g grace. The one who would have the arrogance to put this terrible situation right, but she had just shot him down. Literally told him that reacting to this situation would be further proof of what an arrogant tosser he could be.
But worst of all: the biggest factor preventing them from complaining was of course the fact that they were British. Rendered polite and un-confrontational in the face of bad service, and therefore when the tour guide asked again if they were all okay, they all chorused back with a cheerful if non-committal, ‘Yes, fine.’
No-one uttered a word as she walked away.
Katy downed her drink, her fingers now sticky and clumped with sand. She needed to wash them in the sea but the sea looked dark and brooding on this cloudy day.
‘Can I go and see the clown?’ asked Millie.
Katy’s heart sank. She had been waiting for this.
‘No, I’m afraid not,’ said Katy.
‘Why not?’ asked Millie.
‘Because the clown is part of that party and not ours,’ replied Katy.
‘Are we at a party?’ asked Millie. ‘It doesn’t look like a party. Why can’t we go to the party with the clown?’
‘Because we can’t,’ said Katy, looking nervously over at Braindead, not wanting to upset him.
‘Why not?’
‘Because we didn’t pay to go to that party.’
‘You have to pay to go to a party?’ asked Millie.
‘Yes,’ said Katy, wishing her daughter would shut up.
‘Did we pay for this party?’ asked Millie, looking round the barren beach at the other miserable people wishing they were somewhere else.
‘Yes,’ replied Katy.
‘Why didn’t we pay to go to the party with the clown?’ asked Millie.
‘Because we just didn’t,’ said Katy, wishing the sand would swallow her up.
‘Shall we build a sandcastle?’ said Braindead suddenly, a look of panic on his face that his treasured day was not going to plan.