by Mandy Baggot
‘Good morning, Monica. How are you?’ It seemed like she had been shadowing him for days now.
They taught you about over-familiarity with guests on day one of the animation training course. You should always smile. You should try your very best to learn names and use them, but physical contact was an invitation to trouble.
‘I’m wonderful now I’ve seen you. Water exercise this morning, isn’t it?’ Monica asked. She whipped her black curls onto her shoulder and planted one hand on her hip.
‘Yes, at ten,’ Yan answered. He kept the smile fixed on his face. If she stayed too long his cheeks were going to hurt.
‘Wonderful.’ She let out a dreamy sigh. ‘I find it does one such a lot of good to indulge on holiday, as long as you balance it up with some form of rigorous exercise.’
She was leaning over his chair, oblivious to the half a dozen holidaymakers, forming a queue behind her, waiting to squeeze past on their way to the hot buffet.
‘You should Zumba. It is with Sergei, at five,’ Yan suggested. He got to his feet.
‘I might just do that,’ Monica answered, her voice low and husky.
‘Water exercise!’ he shouted. ‘Water exercise everybody! At ten!’
Monica reached for her ears and, seizing his chance, he made his escape. Being busy had its advantages. It left you little time to think.
4
‘How many types of eggs were there? I’m making notes for Mark and Dad. ‘Course, if it wasn’t for this stupid golf tournament, they both would have come with us,’ Lacey said, jotting notes on a Hello Kitty pad which was leaning on the edge of her sun bed.
‘Hard-boiled, fried, poached and scrambled.’ Ellen turned the page of her novel. ‘It wasn’t just the golf. They both have to work to pay for this wedding.’
They’d found sun loungers to the right of the deep end of the pool, next to the stunning view of the ocean. Lacey was sporting a barely-there tangerine two piece that made her look like an elongated Wotsit. Still, better to look like a well-loved snack than someone in a burqa, like she did.
‘It isn’t costing that much. Did you know Niamh’s wedding cost twenty-five grand? I mean, she didn’t even have proper live entertainment or anything. They do Greek dancers here with plate smashing and fire.’ Lacey smiled and raised an eyebrow.
‘I have a feeling Dad will love that.’
Ellen’s phone trilled and a couple lying on loungers next to them looked over.
‘For God’s sake, Ellen, we’re on holiday! Turn it on silent or it’s going in the pool,’ Lacey threatened.
From the display Ellen could see it was the office. Lacey hadn’t left her for a second since it had become a civilised enough time to call the UK and she was betting Mrs McGoldrick had been on the phone to Milo already. Maybe she’d received a late submission penalty in the post. Or maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was something to do with Keegan Manufacturing. Ellen swallowed. It couldn’t be. She’d been careful. Being careful was about all she had left in her ammunition.
‘Hi there! Water exercise in a few minutes with Yan.’
At the sound of accented tones, Lacey sat up from her prostrate position. ‘Oh my days, who is that?’
Ellen was still looking at her phone, the display flashing on and off. She couldn’t answer it.
‘Ellen, look at that bloke! He’s bloody gorgeous.’ Lacey pulled herself further up the lounger and adjusted the bra of her bikini.
The phone stopped ringing and Ellen watched, waiting for the voicemail message to appear.
‘Ellen,’ Lacey hissed, plastering a wide smile on her lips. ‘Look!’
‘Hi! Are you joining in the water exercise?’
Ellen looked up to take in a tall, tanned, athletically-built, dark-haired man dressed in a navy-blue polo shirt and matching shorts, standing beside Lacey’s lounger. He was smiling down at her sister, a clipboard to his chest, all perfect white teeth and dark eyes.
‘Are you the instructor?’ Lacey asked, with more than double the required pout for attracting the entire male species.
‘Sometimes, but not today. Today it is Yan. I am Sergei. Serg,’ he introduced.
‘Well hello, Serg. I’m Lacey,’ she purred. ‘So, what do you instruct?’ She played with a tendril of her hair.
‘Water polo, boules and Zumba. Sometimes volleyball,’ he informed, his clipboard casting a shadow over Lacey’s midriff.
‘I do Zumba back home. I might join in. What time?’
Ellen turned her attention back to her phone.
‘Five, by the stage,’ Sergei informed.
‘Great.’
Sergei turned to Ellen. ‘How about for you? Some water exercise?’
Ellen knew he was addressing her but she couldn’t look up now. She was waiting for the voicemail icon. Something was wrong, she just knew it. Her horoscope in Lacey’s magazine had mentioned an unexpected phone call.
‘Ellen! The lovely Sergei is talking to you! Are you going to do water exercise?’ Lacey barked like a sergeant major.
Ellen dropped her phone back into her bag and shook her head at the man.
‘No thanks. I’m not really very good in the water.’
‘Now I’ve heard it all! She’s actually a fantastic swimmer! She saved a boy from school when he fell into the river. She got a commendation from the fire brigade and everything,’ Lacey exclaimed, loud enough for the whole pool area to hear.
‘This isn’t a swimming competition,’ Ellen snapped back. ‘Sergei has foam sausages.’
‘I put your name down. We maybe see you in a few minutes,’ Sergei said, giving Lacey another smile before searching for other interested parties.
‘Thanks a lot, Lacey. Now he knows my name he’s going to be getting me to come up on stage for this and join in with that,’ Ellen stated angrily.
‘What’s the matter with you this morning? You’re more uptight here, in thirty degree, blue sky weather, than you are at home when it’s pissing down with rain and Milo’s ballsed something up with someone’s accounts,’ Lacey snapped.
At the mention of the office Ellen stiffened. Swallow down anxiety. Or drown it with cocktails. The bar was looking more appealing by the second.
‘Hello, lady. You come to water exercise, yes? I wait for you.’
At the sound of this voice Ellen looked up and found herself staring into the most incredible pair of eyes. They were blue, an almost indescribable blue. Clear, yet deep, intense and hypnotic. Yan was dressed in the same style of uniform Sergei had been sporting and he was smiling at her. Perhaps he had forgiven her for thinking he was a bag snatcher.
She shook her head at him regardless. ‘No, thank you. It’s our first day.’ Her cheeks were heating up under his scrutiny.
‘You learn today for tomorrow,’ Yan told her, unfazed.
So he wasn’t a thief but he was determined. And it didn’t sound like he was going to let her out of joining in. Another bully of a man who thought he knew what was best for her. She let out a snort of displeasure.
‘For God’s sake, Ellen, get off the sun lounger and go and enjoy yourself. You love the water.’ Lacey smiled at Yan. ‘She loves the water.’
‘This is not hard for you. I help,’ Yan insisted.
Her face maintained the same expression and she felt her cheeks solidifying with the effort. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone? Wasn’t it enough she had to hear all the intricacies of wedding favours while she was here? Now she was expected to be a happy holiday joiner. All she wanted was some quiet. A chance to plan a restructure of her life. She didn’t want ringing phones or any of … this.
‘I understand.’ Yan nodded. ‘You want to just eat and drink for all of holiday, not have fun.’ He made to move off.
‘What? You can’t say that,’ Lacey remarked, almost spitting out a mouthful of drink.
Ellen gritted her teeth together before answering him. ‘Some people can have fun without needing to have it with the entire holiday complex.’<
br />
‘You have fun on your own with book,’ he responded, nodding.
‘Yes, actually.’
‘And to read story of other people is more fun than to make story of own?’
His broken English seemed to make the statement all the more cutting. She was being sliced right through the middle in broad daylight and she had no response.
* * *
Yan had no idea why he’d said that. If people said no to joining in with animation there was no penalty to pay. You moved on, found others eager to participate. But he was standing there, his hands on his hips, staring at this English woman and waiting for her to react. Why? Because she’d judged him the second she’d set eyes on him? He had to move past that. People judged people. It was flawed human nature but it was reality.
Now his breathing pattern had altered. He was fired up, adrenaline starting to hum. He watched her put her thick paperback down onto the table and stand up.
She was facing him now, her eyes narrowed as she tied her hair back into a bunch.
‘I want you to know that I’m doing this once,’ she stated. ‘A one-time only thing and you don’t ever ask me again.’
He said nothing and watched her look over the water where other residents were collecting the foam spaghettis.
‘I mean it can’t be that hard,’ Ellen continued. ‘I’ve been swimming since before foam sausages were even invented.’
He nodded. ‘Good. Then let us go.’ He swooped a hand towards the water.
* * *
She was struggling. In the couple of months Yan had worked at the hotel he had never seen someone so unrelaxed. Every movement Ellen made was restricted by concern – for space, for accuracy. Her eyes would dart left and right at the other participants, checking their form and repetition, every part of her body tight and stiff. She kept a straight face the entire time, her brow furrowed in concentration as everyone moved around the pool following his instructions. What caused someone to be like that? What made her so closed to what was going on around her? It was as if she didn’t want to interact with anyone at all, couldn’t break a smile. At that thought he gave a swallow. If his job didn’t require it, he probably wouldn’t have been interacting with anyone either. But he had his reasons. Maybe she had her reasons too but he could almost guarantee she didn’t have the head of the Bulgarian mafia on her tail.
* * *
Ellen’s arms were aching and the water that had looked inviting was actually freezing. She’d been sandwiched between a frighteningly made-up woman in a white and gold sequinned one-piece called Monica and a six foot six mountain of a Russian called Uri.
She didn’t know if her arms were really hers and she was still holding them in the air, her hands grappling with a foam sausage.
‘Pump arms up like this!’ Yan instructed from the side of the pool, thrusting his muscular arms skywards.
Pump your arms up in the air seemed like an everyday request for Uri. For Ellen, on the other hand, it was a task that made her pits strain like hell. If she wasn’t careful she’d be unable to operate a knife and fork at lunch. Yoga did not prepare you for this kind of torture.
‘And run. Run around in water. One-two-three, eins-zwei-drei,’ Yan continued, demonstrating.
This had been such a mistake. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t have had some sort of face-off with a hotel employee just because she felt guilty about thinking he was a luggage mugger. It was an easy mistake to make. He’d been a stranger with his hands on their cases. She was simply a single woman abroad being cautious.
She splashed her hands into the pool. She wasn’t enjoying this either. She was hopeless at it and her mind was still on her job. A job she hated. A job she wouldn’t be doing if it hadn’t been for that one, big, fat mistake. Saying no. How could saying no ruin your entire life? But she wasn’t dwelling. No, no dwelling, just living in the moment.
The water rippled around Ellen’s thighs as she ran in a circle, following the giant strides of Uri. As she came back round she looked to the poolside just in time to catch Yan pulling his polo shirt over his head.
There was that perfectly sculpted brown abdomen she’d been admiring from the safety of her balcony earlier. And, as he dropped his shorts, the small trunks were revealed. Without any hesitation he jumped into the pool and joined the group, ordering everyone into a circle and putting his arm around Uri on his right and then Ellen.
She jolted. She had a man’s arm across her shoulders; a man with a gorgeous thick accent and scorching blue eyes, a rude man who was making her pay for an innocent reaction in the middle of the night. How had she got here? That was the trouble with going through a personal crisis, every little feeling was magnified, everybody’s actions questioned.
* * *
‘OK, that is end of water exercise. Thank you everybody. Next, we have cocktail game, cocktailspielen, with Sergei, by the bar,’ Yan announced, removing his arm from around his participants.
Ellen let out a sigh of relief and ducked her shoulders down into the water, tipping her head back and wetting the whole of her hair. Despite it being ridiculous, she did feel like she’d had some exercise far superior to stretching into a table-top position in her living room. She closed her eyes and tried to hold a breath and count like she’d been taught in her online meditation class.
‘You like the water exercise?’
Yan’s voice snapped her out of relaxation and she opened her eyes. He was standing next to her, close. What was it with this guy?
‘It was fine. I survived, like I knew I would.’
‘We repeat tomorrow,’ he said, smiling.
‘Ah, well I said one time only and it wouldn’t be so adventurous if I did it twice.’
‘I see you tonight? At the show? We have Greek dancing,’ Yan continued. He scooped water up with his hands and let it trickle from his fingers, showering down his body.
‘Oh great, your national pastime.’ Had that sounded sarcastic enough?
‘What?’
‘Greek dancing? You’re Greek.’
‘I am not Greek. I am from Bulgaria.’ He dribbled more water over his body.
As hard as she was trying, she couldn’t stop her eyes from reverting to his well-built chest. Raise your head, Ellen.
‘So you will be there?’ he asked.
‘Yes, we’ll be there. No need to come and hunt us down.’
She watched his features harden a little at her chosen words. She was doing so well with the insults, with such minimal effort.
‘I’ll try and get Lacey to join in,’ Ellen continued. ‘That’s Lacey over there. My sister.’
Lacey was game for anything. Animation was much more suited to her than Ellen. And if she got Lacey involved in activities she could get that quiet time she craved.
‘What is name?’ Yan asked.
‘Lacey,’ Ellen repeated, twice as loud.
‘Your name,’ Yan asked.
‘My name?’ She hadn’t forgotten it but she didn’t know why he’d asked or whether she wanted to give it. But it was just her name, not the town she was born in or her PIN.
‘Ellen.’ Her cheeks flamed. ‘I’m Ellen.’ Now she felt stupid.
‘Ellen,’ he repeated in his heavy accent.
The second he rolled the word around in his mouth it caused her to swallow, involuntarily. He was looking back at her, still cupping water in his hands and depositing it down his body.
And then he was out. In one quick move he hauled himself from the pool and stood up on the side. ‘I see you tonight.’
She bit her lip. Was it too hot to wear Spanx?
5
Despite his best intentions, Yan found himself looking for Ellen. Why, he had no idea. He was only there for light encouragement, to assist the hotel residents who wanted to join in. It wasn’t his job to pester people. They’d been firmly told that pestering people led to low reviews on Trip Advisor.
Still, he couldn’t help noticing how different she was from the usua
l prostrate women who had no inclination for animation. Ordinarily, along with the sun worship and the cocktails, there was laughing, letting go, not caring how you look when doing things that weren’t routine. Ellen was not laughing.
For the most part of the morning she’d sat on a lounger, but was never still. She had her phone, and books, so many books. A pile of thick paperbacks had been on the table next to her all day. She liked words, stories – that was all he really needed to know. Like Rayna she was from another world. One he didn’t belong to. There seemed to be so many scenarios like that for him.
He filled a plastic cup with lemon and lime and sat down under the shade of the outside restaurant’s canopy. His eyes began to shut and he snapped them open. He was so tired. Lack of sleep, too much sun, not enough water and that constant feeling that he had to stay on his toes. One slip, one reason for team leader, Tanja, to scrutinise him and he could be in trouble.
‘Yan, you OK?’
He flinched as Sergei slapped him on the back and joined him on an adjacent seat.
‘Yes, OK. You?’
‘I am now.’ Sergei lowered his voice. ‘I have very sexy girl in Zumba today. I mean, very sexy.’ A wide smile formed on his colleague’s mouth.
Yan shook his head. Most weeks there was a sexy participant reported in the Zumba class. He was sure Sergei had done more than South American moves with most of them too. He would not choose Sergei for a friend but he was part of the team. You couldn’t dislike anyone in your team even if you didn’t agree with the way they conducted themselves.
‘She had it going on up here and down there,’ Sergei continued. He put one hand to his chest and planted the other on his rear.
‘You know the rules,’ Yan told him.
‘You think I am scared of Tanja?’
‘You do not need job?’
Sergei shrugged his shoulders. ‘Yes, I want the job but … ’ Sergei stopped talking, focussing his eyes across the restaurant. ‘There she is, the sexy girl.’ Sergei nudged Yan’s elbow.