by Jo Watson
I shrugged. I wasn’t a frequenter of bars; I had no idea what to order. “What do people usually drink?”
The man smiled at me. “That depends on whether their day has been good or bad.”
“Bad. Very bad.”
The man nodded knowingly. I wondered how many sob stories he’d been privy to over the years. He slid a drink over to me but there was no fizzy pink stuff and no umbrella or bobbing cherry. Instead, I was met by a glass of ice and whiskey. I hated whiskey. Nonetheless, I was determined to suck it down. It took me about thirty minutes to consume the two ounces of liquid, and by the end of the glass I was definitely more relaxed. The tension in my shoulders had dissipated, but now my bladder felt very full. I got up and walked over to the bathroom. The cubicle looked like a wall of graffiti. Clearly a hundred drunken girls had poured their hearts out on these very walls thinking they were poets. I started reading some of it…
There were a few SO-AND-SO WAS HEREs, one TRISTAN IS A DICKHEAD, and one rather amusing LOSS OF VIRGINITY PROUDLY BROUGHT TO YOU BY JACK DANIEL’S. But there was also one…
PARTY LIKE IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY EVERY DAY.
It suddenly dawned on me that tomorrow was actually my birthday. The irony made me roll my eyes. Twenty-five years ago tomorrow, I’d been given up… and so had begun the chain of events that had led me to this very moment in time. In a way, I was right at the very beginning, where it had all started.
When I got back to my miserable little seat at the bar, I noted that the one next to it was now very much occupied. A man—early thirties, not hideous-looking, a little too sunburned, a lot overdressed for this kind of bar, and sporting a hairstyle that looked like it had taken a lot of time and gel—was casually sitting there.
“You looked like you could do with another.” He slid the drink over to me with the kind of expertise that suggested he’d done this before.
“That obvious?” I asked.
“Pretty much.” I accepted the whiskey from this stranger and wondered why the hell he even cared.
“So what’s your sad story?” he asked.
“What makes you think I have a sad story?”
“Pretty girls sitting alone in bars usually do.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to hear mine.”
“Why not?” He leaned toward me.
“It’s very sad and sobby.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He looked genuinely interested. But I wasn’t going to divulge my innermost secrets to this man.
Okay, so maybe it was the green drink with the swirly pink stuff floating on the top that he’d bought me after I’d polished off the whiskey. Or the two shots of creamy stuff I’d drunk after that, because about half an hour later I was telling him everything.
Every tiny detail. And he listened. He nodded at the appropriate parts, tutted loudly a few times, and shook his head when I wanted him to. He seemed interested.
Until I realized what he was really after, and what a dangerous situation I’d just gotten myself into.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His hand came out and squeezed my knee in a lascivious, pushy manner. I tried to brush it off “accidentally,” pulling my handbag onto my lap. It didn’t deter him, though. He tried to slide his hand under my bag and up my leg. I quickly crossed my legs and started rummaging through my bag for nothing at all, trying to buy myself some time to figure a way out of this situation.
“If you’re looking for this…” His voice was laced with vodka and sex. He pulled a shiny wrapper out of his pocket. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but when the object finally came into focus, I gasped.
EXTRA-EXTRA-LARGE, STUDDED AND RIBBED FOR ADDED PLEASURE.
“No… no! I think you’ve got the wrong idea here.” Wild panic-nausea was rising.
“No wrong idea here, baby.” The guy leaned in again and this time made a beeline for my lips. I turned my head and felt his moist mouth smash into the side of my face. I could smell the overwhelming stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke. It made me feel sick.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, trying to kiss me again, this time holding my head in place with his hand. His lips came down on mine and I felt sick. I pulled away again as quickly as I could.
“Nothing, I’m just not… I don’t do this kind of thing. I’m sorry.” Why was I apologizing to this awful man who was coming on to me in a bar?
He gave me the dirtiest look I’ve ever received in my life. “Do you really think I bought you drinks all night and listened to your sob-fucking-story for hours because I actually cared?” He made another move for my leg despite the fact that my bag was covering it. I jumped off the bar stool, bumping my drink and spilling it across the bar.
“You better pay for that.” He spat his words at me like venom.
I started rummaging in my bag for my wallet. But as I did, he grabbed my wrist. The Coke Zero image from earlier that day flashed through my mind and without thinking, I grabbed a tall glass of beer off the counter and emptied it into his face.
“You fucking bitch,” the guy hissed under his breath while wiping the beer off his face.
And so I did the only thing I could… I ran. I pushed my way through the crowd and stumbled out onto the streets. The uneven cobblestones and weight of my bag pulling me to one side tripped me up immediately and I fell. Red-hot pain shot through me as my knee connected with the hard ground.
I stumbled back up onto my feet, only now the world was spinning and tilting and swirling and cruelly tricking me into thinking I was falling forward. I put my arms out in the hopes of steadying my balance, but it still felt like an invisible string was pulling me forward. I heard a noise behind me and turned. The door opened and he stepped out and looked at me.
Run. You have to run!
But my legs felt like they were unable to carry out my brain’s commands. The man stepped through the door now and started moving toward me…
Run. Run. Run.
This time my legs obeyed. I ran out into the night as fast as I could. I had no idea which way to go. I couldn’t even figure out if I was going up or down, my vertigo was so bad.
Up a narrow cobbled street. Turn left… I think.
Up or down the stairs in front of me? Neither!
Turn right and up another small alley. Maybe?
Left again. Shit, shit, shit, be careful of all the potted plants!
But it was too late. By the time I saw it, I’d already collided with it. My leg screamed at me as the pain of a thousand thorns dug into it. Fucking cactus bastard! Why do they have to have so many potted plants in Greece? And cats? I sneezed as one skidded across my path. I hated Greece!
I kept running. The streets seemed to be getting steeper and narrower as I went. I heard a noise behind me and turned. I shouldn’t have. “Ouch.” I winced in pain as something yanked me backward. I reached up and my hair was twisted in the thorny vines of the massive, low-hanging bougainvillea I hadn’t seen.
You’ve got to be kidding. Even the flora on this stupid island was out to get me. I was clearly allergic to Greece and as soon as I got back to my hotel, I was booking the first flight out of this Godforsaken place and back home. My fingers frantically pulled at the trapped strands of hair. The pain was unbelievable. I yanked. Hard. I heard some disturbing snapping sounds but I was finally free and carried on darting up the alley.
My heart was racing, my breath was catching in my throat, and I felt like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. My body gave up and I couldn’t run any farther. I backed up until I was resting against a wall. I was hot and sweaty, and the cool wall felt good against my skin. I looked down the alley; there was no sign of him. Relief washed over me as I slid down the wall and sat. I focused all my energy on my breathing and my pounding heart, willing them to slow down.
Get a grip, Jane. Breathe!
Slowly, after some very focused deep breathing, my heart rate started to return to normal. But I felt very far from normal.
As the painful pounding in my chest calmed down, I became aware of the pain in my leg. I reached down and touched it. It felt warm and wet. I was bleeding.
My head also hurt; my scalp felt like it was stinging. A sense of total hopelessness started to rack my already-sore body. My life was falling apart right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do about it but sit back and watch as one catastrophe opened the door to invite the next disaster in, which in turn paved the way for a further tragic event to unfold. It was as if someone was playing a sadistic game of dominoes with my life. In total misery, I dropped my head and held it between my shaking hands.
These kinds of dramatic emotions weren’t me, at all. Maybe if I was more adept at expressing them, I would feel better now. Maybe if I could throw something, or kick or punch and scream. But that wasn’t my way. My way was to take them all and turn them inside, where they’d obviously grown and fed off one another like a cancer. And now no amount of suppression could keep them down. They were out and they were rushing around with the destructive force of a hundred hurricanes.
And the dominant one was pain. I felt so alone. And that’s when it hit me…
Where the hell am I?
I was lost. It was two a.m. and I had no idea where I was, or in which direction my hotel was. North, south, east… where? How did one hail a taxi here? Where was the main road anyway? I pulled my phone out and started trying to navigate Google Maps. But my fingers were shaking, my eyes were blurry, and I was in such a panic I couldn’t think logically. So I did the only other thing, the simplest thing I could do under the circumstances. I pressed dial on my last dialed number.
“Hello.” His voice sounded sleepy and sexy as hell.
“Um… hi… it’s…” I managed.
“Jane. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I mean, no… I’m not sure.” My voice cracked, and a betting man would probably have put money on me bursting into uncontrollable girlie sobs. But I knew better. Even when my life was falling apart, I still couldn’t cry. I actually wished I could; I imagined it would be a massive relief.
“Where are you?” It sounded like he was moving around now.
“I don’t know. I think I’m lost.”
“Okay, look around, what do you see?” I heard more movement and a door shutting.
I scanned my surroundings. Everything bloody looked the same here. Whitewashed walls, whitewashed houses with little blue doors and potted plants and cobblestones and… something caught my eye. There was a trash can up the hill at the top of the alley. I ran for it, and that’s when I saw Dimitri’s cardboard arm sticking out of it.
“I know where I am. I’m in an alley behind a restaurant. Zorba’s, I think.”
“Stay where you are, I know the place.” I heard a car start and a tiny scrap of relief crept in, but it wasn’t nearly enough to douse the other emotions blazing inside me. I wanted the feelings out of me. They physically hurt. I closed my eyes, squeezed them together hard, and willed myself to cry.
Cry, Jane. Cry and let it all out. I opened my mouth and let out a loud crying sound, “Waaa-aaahhh-waaa, waaaa.” But the noise wasn’t inspiring the tears. It just wasn’t working. I sat against the wall for what felt like forever until a noise made me jump up.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me.” Dimitri stepped into the light, and it gave him a glowing godlike halo.
“Are you okay?” He walked closer and his eyes scanned me as if he was taking stock of the creature before him. Then without warning he reached up, and I felt his hand on my head. He pulled away and held a piece of bougainvillea between his fingers.
“Thanks,” I said faintly.
“You’re bleeding!” In one swift movement he was kneeling on the ground examining my leg.
“It’s nothing, just a scratch.” I pulled away quickly.
He stood up and locked eyes with me. He looked more serious than I’d ever seen him look before. “What happened?”
I shook my head, which I shouldn’t have as it felt very woozy again. “It’s a sshhlong story.” I was aware that I was slurring now, which was incredibly undignified.
“I have time.” He stepped toward me and then in a move that almost made me squeal out loud, he gently took my face between his hands. “Jane? What happened?”
“Can we jushhst…” I stopped and moved my tongue around in my mouth in an attempt to moisturize it. “Can we just go,” I managed to say without slurring this time.
He shook his head. “What happened?” He looked at me with such focus and determination that I knew I wasn’t going to get away without telling him.
“It’s just… there was this guy at a bar and he… He was trying to… he didn’t, though. Anyway, I ran out and he followed but I managed to lose him so it’s totally fine. It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” The word came out so loud and firm that it caught me off guard and I flinched. “Which bar?” Dimitri reached for my hand and started pulling me.
I bucked against him. “No, no, leave it. It’s fine. Just drop it. It was nothing… really.”
But he looked unmoved. “Which bar, Jane?”
“Please,” I begged. “Please… I’ve already caused such a scene in there… please, Dimitri. Please.”
He scanned my face again, and the hard look in his eyes vanished. “Fine. I’ll leave it.”
Relief washed over me. “Thanks.”
“Come.” He held his arm out for me, and I stared at it. Am I meant to take it? I hesitated for a moment, and then he looped his arm through mine and started walking. I was secretly glad for it. The spinny, vertigo feeling wasn’t entirely gone yet, and I stumbled ever so slightly.
“I’ve got something that will sort that out.” He flicked his eyes toward me with a slight smile.
“Sort what out?”
“You ever had a cup of Greek coffee?”
I shook my head.
“It will sober you up quickly.”
I felt a sudden thump of shame. What did he think of me—that I was some drunken tart that got herself lost in the early hours of the morning? I hardly ever drank. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been drunk, and I didn’t think I’d ever been like this!
“I don’t do stuff like this. I’m really sorry I woke you up,” I said as we rounded a corner. “And anyway, I don’t drink—”
He cut me off, sounding amused. “Greek coffee. I could have guessed that. But the thing is—”
I cut him off this time. “Let me guess… I haven’t lived until I’ve drunk Greek coffee in the streets of Santorini while watching a sunset?”
Dimitri burst out laughing. It was warm and contagious and despite myself, I chuckled along.
“We know each other so well already.” Dimitri said it playfully but his statement caught me off guard. Who the hell was this guy that I hadn’t been able to shake since arriving on the island? And why were we now walking arm in arm and laughing and chatting and mind reading like we actually knew each other? We didn’t know each other, and I certainly didn’t want to know him!
I quickly pulled my arm away from him. “It’s okay. I can walk on my own. Thanks.” We finally reached his car and climbed in. I was relieved to be going back to my hotel so I could book the first flight out of here. I hated Greece, and I certainly wasn’t going to find my father here. I just wanted to go home. My thoughts drifted off, and for a moment I was back home in the safety of my familiar four walls, standing firmly on my laminate wood flooring and getting ready to spend the day fixing people’s teeth. The idea didn’t appeal to me as much as I thought it would. What is wrong with me?
“Jane, are you sure you’re okay?” Dimitri asked.
Maybe it was something to do with the safe confines of the car that made me open up. “I’m fine. But I’m really glad to be out of that place. I should have known it was fishy… literally.” I laughed at my own stupid joke.
“Literally?” he repeated.
“Yes, there was a giant, hideous
fish on the wall behind the bar. The whole thing’s probably my fault anyway… I should have seen it coming. The guy was totally dodgy.”
“Dodgy?” he echoed.
“Yes.”
“Like?”
“Well, first he was totally sunburned… and I don’t trust people that don’t wear sunblock. It smacks of irresponsibility.”
“Sunburned?” he said as he made a sharp turn up a road that looked like one we’d already driven up.
“Yes, completely, and don’t get me started on that terrible earring!”
“Earring?”
“Revolting golden loop in his ear.” I glanced over at him.
He made another sharpish turn, and everything looked familiar again.
“What a douche bag. I mean, who the hell wears a full-blown suit and tie to a casual seaside bar?”
“Full suit, hey?”
My elbow knocked against the side of the car as Dimitri made another sharp turn and started driving up a street I knew we’d already been up. He came to a sudden and very abrupt stop outside the bar and turned to me.
“I’ll be a moment.” He said it with a smile as if nothing was wrong, and then simply jumped out and walked toward the bar, muttering something. I leaned out the window in an attempt to hear what he was saying.
“Sunburned… earring… full suit,” he whispered under his breath before turning back to me. “Wait there, Jane!” He sounded cheerful as he walked into the bar.
Oh shit! The realization hit me. Was he going to beat the guy up? I sat in the car and stared at the door in utter horror.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It felt like hours, but in reality it must have been a few minutes before he burst back out the door looking totally casual and cheerful. He even stopped to greet a man happily.
“Dimitri. Kalimera.”
“Kalimera.” The other man waved at him.
He climbed back into the car and without saying a single word started driving again as if everything was completely normal. Which it was not! He gave me a quick sideways glance and then flashed me a small, satisfied smile.