Global Playground

by Delores Swallows

  When the bottle was empty the women decided to make their way back inside. They found their men standing in the bar area—evidently the free booze had finally dried up and they’d had to buy their own. From the volume of their laughter and conversations, Joanna surmised they’d been drinking at a considerable rate. Gareth had removed his jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  His eyes were semi-glazed and when he saw Joanna he raised his glass and smiled. “You all right, doll? Fancy a drink?”

  Joanna pulled him to one side, trying to speak without their friends overhearing. “Gareth, it’s not even five o’clock and you’re shit-faced.”

  “Nah, I’m fine. Catching up with my mates, that’s all.”

  Joanna looked up into his face. His pupils were dilated and his breath smelt of cigarettes. “Have you been smoking?”

  He shrugged. “Forgot my vape kit, and when Danny nipped out for a fag, I had a few drags to keep me going.”

  She sighed, exasperated. She’d been begging him to give up for as long as she could remember. “Why don’t we have a cup of coffee or go for a walk in the grounds? Take a short break before the evening reception starts.”

  Gareth was already pulling away from her, back towards the bar. “Nah, I hardly ever see these guys now. We’re just catching up and having a laugh. You can have a coffee and a walk if you like.”

  Joanna watched him return to his friends. She understood it was nice to catch up on all their latest news—she’d spent an hour doing exactly the same thing. But whereas the girls had been happy to make a bottle of champagne split four ways last for an hour, the men seemed determine to drink themselves into a stupor. She decided to go back and sit with the girls.

  As she left the bar area, she saw the man in the dark suit talking to two of the other guests. Without being entirely sure why, Joanna started walking towards him. He looked up and smiled as she approached and the other guests walked away, leaving them alone.

  “Yes, madam?”

  Joanna stalled, unsure of what she was going to say. She tucked a stray strand of her brown hair behind one ear. “Hi, I wanted thank you for the champagne earlier.”

  The man smiled, and she saw immediately what Amanda had meant about Paul Newman. His pale blue eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief and intelligence. “It was my pleasure. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “No, thank you. I just wanted to say how grateful we were for the champagne.”

  He smiled and bowed his head slightly. “Madam.”

  As he was turning to leave, a thought occurred to Joanna. “Actually, there is something. Could you tell me where I can get a cup of coffee?”

  “I can arrange that. Where would you like them to bring it?”

  She felt guilty. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. I’m happy to go and order it, but I wondered if I should ask at the bar, or somewhere else.”

  The man frowned and shook his head. “No, madam, it is something I will do. I will have a pot brought to you. We are here to serve.”

  Joanna looked around and saw Helena and Geraldine watching from their table. She nodded in their direction. “I’ll be sitting back at the table.”

  The man looked over and saw the other women. “Very well, I will have a large pot and more cups sent over.”

  “Thank you…?” Joanna raised her eyebrows, wondering why she’d felt the need to ask his name.

  “Reuben.”

  She held his gaze for a split second, then smiled. “Thank you, Reuben.”

  He walked off to make the arrangements and Joanna made her way towards her friends. They all looked a little wide-eyed as she sat down.

  “I’ve ordered us all some coffee.” She’d tried to make it sound as matter-of-fact as she could, but knew the girls wouldn’t let it go.

  Geraldine leaned close to whisper. “Surprised you didn’t ask him if he did room service.”

  Helena chimed in. “Yes, Jo, I think he’d be more than happy to service you in your room.”

  All of them sniggered and even though Joanna was discomfited, she couldn’t deny the warm glow inside, reminding her of how she’d felt as a teenager when she’d learned some boy fancied her.

  The coffee was delivered by a young waitress a few minutes later and as Joanna started to pour, Amanda joined them.

  “Have you seen the state of our husbands?”

  The others uttered sounds of shared disapproval.

  “I can’t believe they’re pissed already. Helena, I doubt Nigel will be able to score at both ends tonight. Sticking with your football analogy, you’ll be lucky if you can pull him off at half-time.”

  The girls spent another half hour chatting idly before the hotel staff began rearranging the tables in preparation for the evening reception. Amanda and Geraldine announced they were going back to their own rooms for a rest and to freshen up, but Joanna and Helena decided to go for another walk in the hotel grounds.

  Once outside, both women made quick phone calls to check their kids were okay, and wandered off in the direction of the gazebo at the far end of the lawn. Joanna breathed in the early evening air, the smell from the lilac bushes sickly-sweet.

  Helena turned round and looked back towards the hotel. Through the windows they could see guests arriving for the evening reception. “It’s nice to see Tony so happy again—I think his divorce hurt him very badly.”

  “Yeah, he deserves some happiness.”

  Helena smiled. “Okay, the champagne’s gone to my head, so I’m going to come clean. I used to fancy Tony when we were at school, and I was dead jealous when you went out with him.”

  This brought a giggle from Joanna. “All the girls fancied Tony. We were young, and only went out for a few weeks. It was nothing serious to be jealous over.”

  “What do you mean, nothing serious?”

  Joanna shrugged. “Exactly that—we were just kids. He taught me how to French kiss, and I let him become the first boy to play with my boobs.”

  Helena laughed, but Joanna could tell from her expression there was something on her mind.

  “What is it?”

  Helena took a breath, looked to the sky. “We had a fling when we were at university.”

  Joanna was shocked—not so much at the revelation, but because it had been kept secret for so long. “But you two didn’t go to the same university.” As if that mattered.

  Helena nodded. “I know, but we were both in London. We bumped into each other at a Student’s Union bar where a couple of bands were playing. We were both pissed and ended up snogging.”

  Joanna laughed, but part of her felt a little cheated—Tony had been her childhood squeeze. “Did he still French kiss?”

  Helena snorted. “He put more than his tongue in my mouth, and I let him do a lot more than play with my tits.”

  “Helena, you are such a slut!”

  “I know, I know. But we were drunk and horny nineteen-year-olds. And I’d fancied him for years.”

  “Does Nigel know about it?”

  Helena looked surprised by the question. “Yeah, of course he does. It was before we’d started dating, but he knows about everything I did before we got together.”

  Joanna looked back through the windows. “His new wife’s very pretty.”

  “Yeah, and she’s only twenty-six. I reckon Tony’s going to be getting more sex tonight than either of us two, the state our husbands are going to be in.”

  Joanna sighed. She was so angry at Gareth. This was her first chance to relax, unwind and enjoy herself, and he’d decided to get drunk instead.

  “Come on.” Helena took Joanna by the hand. “Let’s go back inside. I haven’t danced in ages—I might get Tony up on the dancefloor and see if his backside’s still as firm as it used to be.”

  Joanna laughed. “He’s got a beautiful young wife now, so he won’t be interested in some tired old slapper he’s already used and abused.”

  Helena looked at her friend and smiled sweetly. “Bi
tch.”

  Inside they found Amanda and Geraldine in the lobby chatting to another couple of people they’d known years before. These were new arrivals—invited to the evening reception. Amanda caught Joanna’s eye and beckoned her to one side.

  Joanna was concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Apparently Gareth’s been sick. Danny’s taken him back to your room for a clean-up and lie down.”

  Joanna was livid. “He is such a dickhead. I can’t believe it—the first day and night on our own for five years, and he drinks himself into a coma. The twat.”

  “I’m sorry, babe.” Amanda slipped her arms around Joanna and gave her a comforting hug. “We’ll have a nice night, who needs men?”

  Helena lowered her voice. “If I’d known our husbands were going to revert back to teenagers for the weekend, I’d have packed my vibrator.”

  Amanda giggled. “Maybe we should have kept the champagne bottle for you to use.”

  The women made their way back to the main ballroom. The furniture had been moved, the tables and chairs now around the perimeter, the centre of the room cleared for dancing. The women found an empty table near the windows and placed their bags and phones there. Noticing another bar had been opened at the back of the room, Joanna and Helena went to order a couple of bottles of wine. Soon they were all on the dancefloor, having a great time. There was no sign of any of their husbands. Joanna assumed Gareth was passed out in their room, and the others were probably staying in the bar to avoid the wrath of their wives. The number of people in the room had more than doubled as the evening guests arrived, and the mood was typical for a wedding—everyone laughing and happy. Other people they knew had arrived and the four women were forced farther apart as more of their friends joined the dancefloor.

  When the DJ put on a song Joanna didn’t particularly like, she decided to go to the loo. On her way back towards her friends, she saw Reuben standing in the corridor near reception. Without considering her actions, she headed straight for him.

  He watched her approach, bowed his head slightly when she stopped in front of him. “Madam.”

  “Hello, Reuben.”

  This brought a big smile to his face. “I trust you are enjoying your evening?”

  Joanna wondered if he’d been involved in organising the cleaning up after Gareth. “I’m having a very pleasant time with friends I don’t see as often as I’d like.”

  Reuben nodded his understanding. “That is a good way to spend an evening, yes?”

  “Can I buy you a drink?” The offer was out before Joanna thought about what she was saying.

  Reuben smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately, I am not allowed to be seen drinking whilst working. But I am due to have a break, so perhaps I could have a coffee while you have your drink?”

  “A coffee would be fine for me, too.”

  “Very good—I shall order us a pot. Perhaps we could sit in the orangery while we drink it?”

  Joanna’s eyes opened wide. “Ooh, that sounds a bit posh.”

  Reuben shook his head, smiling. “It’s actually a small room with many windows and plants, but it a very nice room. Come, follow me.”

  Joanna glanced over her shoulder towards the ballroom to see if any of her friends were looking her way. She didn’t suppose it would matter—she was only having a coffee.

  Reuben stopped to speak to one of the girls at the reception desk, presumably ordering their coffee, then led the way down a short corridor. He opened a door and stood aside to allow Joanna to enter the room first. It was exactly as he’d described—a small room with windows down two walls, and lots of plants, some in large terracotta pots, others hanging from hooks in the ceiling. There were orchids, cacti, rubber plants, ferns, and many others Joanna didn’t recognise. The floor was old quarry tiles, and there were several wicker chairs and tables placed around the room. The only other people in the room were what appeared to be two members of the kitchen staff, wearing white tops and checked trousers, having a cold drink during their break.

  Reuben nodded to the men and walked to the table at the far end of the room. He held out a chair for Joanna. “Madam.”

  Joanna smiled and sat down and looked up at him. “Since you’re now officially on your break, you can call me Joanna.”

  He smiled as he took the chair opposite her. “Thank you, I would like that. Joanna is a very beautiful name.”

  Joanna loved the way he pronounced her name; Yohanna.

  “Where are you from, Reuben?”

  “From Slovenia. I grew up in Maribor, the second largest city there.”

  Joanna was uncomfortable. “Would you think me terribly stupid if I admitted I’m not sure where that is?”

  He smiled again, his blue eyes sparkling in the low lights. “Of course not. It is a small country that has Italy to the west, Austria to the north, Hungary to the east, and Croatia to the south. Up until about twenty five years ago it was part of Yugoslavia.”

  Joanna nodded. “Thank you. Do you miss it?”

  He half-closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to one side. “A little.”

  “How long have you been over here?”

  As he was about to answer, the door opened and a young waiter delivered a tray holding a coffee pot, two cups and a plate of home-made petit-fours. Reuben thanked him and poured the coffee.

  “I left there fifteen years ago. I worked in Germany for three years, and in Scotland for five years. I have been here in England for almost seven years.” He raised his eyebrows. “Sugar?”

  “Not for me, thanks.” Joanna crossed her legs, and she saw Reuben’s eyes glance down at the exposed flesh. It gave her a warm feeling inside. “And what about the name Reuben—is that a Slovenian name?”

  He shook his head, unable to answer straight away as his mouth was full of coffee. He swallowed. “No, I think it is a Hebrew name. In the Bible, Reuben was the eldest son of Jacob and Leah.”

  Joanna’s face froze in a half-smile. Although her knowledge of geography was limited, her knowledge of the Bible was almost non-existent. “Er…”

  Reuben smiled. “He had a younger half-brother called Joseph, who had a coat of many colours.”

  Joanna laughed out loud. “Thank you. I have heard of that one.”

  He leaned closer. “My mother used to tell me that Reuben was the one who persuaded his brothers that rather than murder Joseph, they should just throw him in a pit. I think that means he was one of the good guys.”

  Joanna frowned. “I don’t think good guys throw their brothers into a pit.”

  Reuben laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. My mother was trying to convince me it was a noble name.”

  “It’s a lovely name. I don’t think I’ve ever met another Reuben before.”

  He smiled and nodded.

  Joanna watched his face. He looked suddenly bashful, and she found it endearing. She remembered Helena’s comment about him wanting to service her in her room, and felt a warmth between her legs.

  She sipped her coffee. “Do you enjoy your work?”

  “Yes. Of course there are some aspects you enjoy more than others, but it is a nice job.” He held eye contact for a few seconds. “I get to meet lovely people like yourself.”

  Joanna smiled. “But you probably also have to deal with awkward people…” Her mind flashed to Gareth trying to order too many bottles of wine, and wondered if Reuben was aware of the problem with him being sick.

  “It is true, but the majority are very nice. As you can imagine, a hotel such as this caters for many occasions. Some are more pleasant than others, where the good guests far outnumber the difficult guests.”

  “Which are the worst?” She was being bewitched by his accent, and his eyes.

  “Works’ Christmas parties are often difficult, where it appears that all the guests want to do is drink as much as possible and be as rude to each other as they can.”

  “And the best?”

  “Weddings. Weddings are my favourite. The
y are joyous occasions—as they should be—and everyone is in a happy mood.”

  This brought a frown to her face. “I’m afraid my husband must think he’s on a works do, because he’s drank himself into a state and made a complete fool of himself.”

  Reuben shrugged. “Young men are allowed to be a little over-exuberant.”

  “He’s not that young. He’s thirty-four and should know better.”

  He nodded his understanding. “I’m sure he will be sorry in the morning.”

  Joanna held eye contact for a few seconds, wondering if there was hidden meaning in his words. Did he mean because of the hangover, or because of what his wife had done while he was passed out? “What’s special about weddings?”

  Reuben took a breath and paused, as if considering whether or not to admit something. He leaned a little closer again. “The women are always very pleasing on the eye.”

  Joanna smiled, but wasn’t sure what he was getting at. Again she wondered if there was more to interpret from his words. “I think the brides are supposed to be pleasing on the eye.”

  “No, no. Yes, the brides are beautiful. Always. It is the best day of their life, and everyone looks at the bride, so she has to be at her most beautiful. But what I mean is, the women guests are very pleasing. They always make a special effort, take time with their dress, shoes, hair and makeup. They even paint their fingernails, which they probably don’t do every day. I call them the ‘wedding belles’—the beautiful women who come to celebrate their friends’ marriage.”

  She hesitated while she thought about what he’d said. “Don’t the female guests at a works party take the same care in getting dressed up?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t believe so. Sometimes they dress in very revealing outfits and behave more audaciously, but they are not the same as the women at a wedding. There is more happiness at a wedding, and it shows as a kind of radiance within the guests.”

  “Are we radiant?” Joanna tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach.

  Reuben turned serious. “Joanna, you transcend radiance by many magnitudes.”

  She squeezed her legs together, felt the wetness. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. “Reuben, do you live here in the hotel?”