by Mandy Baggot
‘Good morning, the queen of the limbo.’
The unfamiliar voice startled Ellen out of her thoughts. She looked up into the face of the restaurant manager. He was smiling at her and offering a tea pot. She remembered him clapping at her and Yan’s performance a mere few hours ago.
‘Oh, good morning.’ She tried in Greek. ‘Kalimera.’
He began to simulate a limbo technique much to the amusement of a pair of elderly ladies at a table nearby. A blush was well on its way.
‘Thank you.’ She didn’t know quite what else to say. As he was called away by a member of his team, she concentrated on making tea for two.
‘Ellie! Could you make me some toast? And I’ll try some bacon. Just a bit,’ Lacey hollered across the room. ‘And a croissant! Get me a croissant!’
The trip was sounding more and more tempting.
13
‘Up … down … up … down …’
As he was encouraging participants of water exercise to raise their arms, Yan was watching Ellen and Lacey arrive poolside.
Tanja had caught him at breakfast and asked him to collect names to join in with that night’s quiz. He needed to pass that job onto Dasha or Sergei and he’d just about decided Dasha would ask fewer questions and would enjoy the extra attention. Tanja had also asked him to accompany the coach trip to Sidari later that morning. Being given more responsibility was a good thing. He needed his experience and willingness to count above everything else.
Lacey didn’t look very well. She seemed to be finding putting her towel down and lowering herself onto the lounger hard work. Ellen had a tray of drinks in her hand, all of them with straws and umbrellas. It was only half past ten. Under her arm were two large paperback books. She raised her head and caught his eye. He turned away. There had to be boundaries.
* * *
‘Turn the sun down, will you? Or preferably off. Was it this strong yesterday?’ Lacey moaned, screwing up her eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ Ellen replied. Sitting down on the lounger, she swung her legs up and put a straw in her mouth. She sucked as hard as she could, wanting the instant hit from the strongest mix of drinks she’d ever seen the barman deliver.
‘I think you’re actually feeling just as bad as me but you don’t want to admit it.’
‘I feel fine.’
‘You’re needing a hair of the dog.’
‘Hairs actually.’
‘What have you got in there?’ Lacey struggled to sit up.
‘Half an Alsatian and an Old English sheepdog.’
‘Is it nice?’
‘It’s very alcoholic.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing a score of these won’t cure.’
‘God, how long are you going to keep this up? I wanted to stay in the room. You’re the one who dragged me out here.’
‘Because you’re supposed to be planning a wedding and all you’ve done is have one vague conversation with someone about table settings.’ Ellen had raised her voice so much her throat hurt and a topless woman to her right lowered her magazine to look their way.
‘That’s mean and untrue. I’ve looked at the bridal suite. It’s like our room but twice the size with a Jacuzzi bath,’ Lacey informed.
‘When did you do that?’
‘Yesterday, when you were asleep on the lounger with your mouth open drooling like a rabid Old English sheep dog.’
‘I wasn’t asleep.’
‘You didn’t even notice I’d gone.’
Ellen sucked harder on the straw, hoping the alcohol would numb every sense.
‘I see your limbo partner’s in the pool limbering up. I’m surprised you aren’t in the water with him. He’s the only man here that actually looks hot in trunks,’ Lacey remarked.
Ellen took her mouth away from the straw and flicked her eyes left to look at the pool. Yan was congregating everyone into a circle, ready to jog around in the water.
Yan had been so lovely. She hadn’t planned on lowering her defences with alcohol and crying like an idiot but he’d been nice, consoling. He hadn’t seemed to judge. The jolt of lust she’d had when he’d fallen on top of her hadn’t been on the agenda either. And she’d thought about little else since they left the beach last night – until Milo’s message.
‘Sergei’s not around,’ Lacey said. She followed the comment up with a soft sigh.
‘It’s volleyball soon. He’s probably sorting out his balls. Anyway, why do you care where he is? He works for the hotel and you have a fiancé,’ Ellen reminded her.
‘I know.’
‘Then why does it matter where Sergei is?’
‘I don’t know! I’m just making conversation.’ Lacey held her head with both hands.
‘I think you need a conversation with Mark, about the wedding. The wedding you’re supposed to be planning this week.’
‘I am planning it. As soon as I’ve got rid of this headache I’m going to go and fix an appointment with the wedding planner. You were right. Just because she has a slightly hairy face, doesn’t mean she isn’t a marriage planning guru,’ Lacey responded.
‘Quite.’
‘So, what do you think, so far? Is it the place? For my wedding?’ Lacey asked. She dragged her body into a sitting position.
‘It’s a beautiful spot. The mountains of Albania just across the water, the sea, the sand … not forgetting the water platform.’ She levelled a smile at her sister.
‘It’s pretty special,’ Lacey agreed, nodding.
‘But no matter how special the place, it has to be right. You and Mark have to be right.’ Ellen faltered on the last part of the sentence. This was so hard. How could she understand how Lacey was feeling? And what qualifications did she have for guiding her? Years trying to be the mother she really wasn’t. That was it. Nothing else. It was exhausting.
‘It feels like we’ve been engaged forever,’ Lacey admitted.
‘It feels like we’ve been planning the wedding forever.’
Lacey sighed. ‘I need to be sure that when the cake’s been cut and eaten … when the doves have been released and all the goody bags have been given out … when the disco’s playing “Run” by Leona Lewis … I need to be sure it still feels special.’
‘Volleyball! We have volleyball in five minutes over on the sand court!’
Sergei’s voice had broken into the conversation, booming the next part of the animation program through the microphone.
‘Lace, if you need the thought of a big wedding … if organising the party of your life is the only thing making your relationship special, then …’ Ellen started.
‘It isn’t … I don’t think. I’m just not sure how to be sure.’ Lacey stopped talking and put a smile on her face at the sight of Sergei striding towards them.
‘Why are you smiling at him like that?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like a drunk celebrity on Alan Carr: Chatty Man.’
‘Drink your drink. Good morning,’ Lacey purred as Sergei arrived next to them.
‘Good morning. How are you?’ Sergei’s eyes were fixed firmly on Lacey’s bikini top, his dark hair perfectly gelled back, sunglasses on his face.
‘All the better for seeing you looking so energetic and ready for action.’
‘Don’t stand too close, Sergei. She’s been vomiting since seven.’ Ellen put her empty cocktail cup down.
‘You have too much last night?’ he inquired.
‘Too much what?’ Lacey batted her eyelids.
‘Please! Just tell us what you’d like us to sign up for before I start being sick.’
‘Volleyball. In five minutes.’
‘Lacey’ll play.’
Within a couple of minutes her sister’s mascara would be running down her face and her hair would resemble Seal in his dreadlock phase. Surely that would make her less attractive to Sergei.
‘I won’t. I can’t. I don’t know how to,’ Lacey protested.
‘I teach you,�
� Sergei assured.
‘Great. That’s you occupied. I’m going to see if they have space left on the coach trip.’ Ellen got up from the lounger.
‘What coach trip?’ Lacey asked.
‘It was on the board outside the restaurant.’ She began to gather her things up together. ‘Some place beginning with “S”. I’m not sure. I don’t care. It looked nice and it isn’t volleyball,’ Ellen stated.
‘But we’ve only just sat down,’ Lacey protested.
‘And until you’re ready to make decisions one way or the other about this wedding I’ll be in the place beginning with “S”.’
‘Well, what am I going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Just try not to get pregnant.’ She slipped her bag over her shoulder.
‘Well, when will you be back?’ Lacey asked, looking affronted.
‘This afternoon some time.’
‘Then I’ll make an appointment with the wedding planner,’ Lacey blurted.
‘Fine. Text me the time.’
Ellen turned away, closing her eyes and taking her first steps towards abandoning her sister for a few hours. Being an emotional prop wasn’t working, perhaps some solitary time would help them both figure things out.
14
Why did going on a coach trip just for a few hours feel like she was running away? Ellen let out a sigh as she moved herself into a window seat and settled her bag on her lap. She’d felt like this the day she’d moved out of home into the gorgeous three bedroom house with river views. Lacey had acted like she’d bought a place on the moon and Al had behaved as if she was severing one of his limbs. So much guilt. Al wanted her to be a success, a golden girl to show off at networking events, but he also wanted her to be the stalwart of the family, the one who kept things together, straightened out Lacey, solved the personal crises. How could any one person pull all that off?
And that was why she hadn’t moved back home when things turned bad. Even though the house with the river views was long gone and the apartment she had now felt smaller than Harry Potter’s cupboard under the stairs, there was too much emotion attached to living with her dad and Lacey. If there was one thing she truly still valued, it was her independence. And despite all that had happened to her, it was the one thing she was still holding on to, tightly, with both hands and white knuckles.
The engine of the coach started up and Ellen looked forward as the final passengers boarded. The door started to swing shut and there he was, looking for a vacant seat. Yan. For one brief second their eyes connected and her insides twanged like an elastic band. Just a few hours ago he had been on top of her on the sand.
Subconsciously she inched herself closer to the window, making more room next to her. She looked out to distract herself. Urns of clematis and bougainvillea surrounded the hotel entrance and international flags billowed in the breeze. Olive trees and perfectly clipped bushes of green made up the foreground, with lusher vegetation leading to wooded groves behind. Where one end of the hotel was all about the beach, this part was all about the rural countryside.
Ellen turned her attention back to the bus and she swallowed, waiting to sense Yan coming up the aisle. She hadn’t known he was going to be on this trip but a little piece of her was hopping up and down at the thought.
And then the coach moved off. She looked over the backs of the seats in front of her and saw he’d taken the jump seat up front. The hopping up and down sensation turned into one, quick, fall back to earth.
* * *
After a forty minute ride along the northern coast of the island, the coach finally came to a stop. Yan got to his feet, clipboard in hand and addressed the tourists.
‘We are here, everybody, outside Nik Nak bar on main strip of Sidari. Sidari have many good shops, restaurant, bar and café. There is also excellent beach and the famous landmark of Canal d’Amour.’ He checked his watch. ‘We will meet back here, at this same place, Nik Nak bar, at three thirty.’
His eyes went to Ellen as he said the same thing over again, this time in German. She was here alone, without her sister. He had not expected this. He had assumed she would be staying at the hotel, lying on a lounger reading another of her thick books.
The driver opened the coach door and he stepped down, ready to ensure the guests all disembarked safely.
‘Where’s the best place for pie and mash?’ a middle-aged man asked Yan as he stepped down onto the pavement.
‘The English food?’ he checked.
‘Yes, pal.’
‘There are many restaurants with British flag outside. The best I think is the Smugglers Inn near the Canal d’Amour. You should walk this way,’ Yan said, pointing along the strip.
When he turned back Ellen had got down from the bus and was standing beside him. Her hair was loose, and she wore a peach-coloured summer dress over her swimsuit, sandals on her feet.
‘Hello,’ she greeted.
‘Good morning.’ He smiled. ‘You decide to get away from stupid animation games.’
‘Oh, are you not doing them here? It was the only reason I came,’ she teased.
‘You make joke,’ he stated, unable to stop a grin invading his face.
‘Maybe,’ she admitted, readjusting her bag on her shoulder. ‘So, where should I go here? What are the best things to do?’
He hesitated for a moment as more clients came down off the coach. ‘What do you look for?’
‘I don’t know really. Maybe the famous landmark? I ought to see more of Greece than the food and drink.’
An elderly couple looked to him for assistance. ‘What time did you say the coach goes back?’ the man of the couple asked.
‘Three thirty,’ Yan looked at his watch again. ‘It is three hours’ time.’
When he turned back Ellen was still there. He had a choice. He could give her directions or he could go with her. What had he planned to do with his three hours here? Have a drink? Some lunch? Sit on the beach and worry? She was here alone. It didn’t feel right to ignore her. He swallowed, hesitating for a moment before speaking.
‘I could walk with you?’ he suggested. ‘I just need to make sure everyone is off bus.’
‘OK,’ she said.
* * *
The heat of the sun was intense as they walked along the road through Sidari, heading to the Canal d’Amour area of the town. Although Ellen had applied factor thirty sun cream before she’d left the room that morning, it felt as if it was already being lasered off.
Sidari was a proper town, with far more going on than Agios Spyridon. There were rows of shops on both sides of the road, interspersed with bars and restaurants, blackboards stating the day’s specials in multi-coloured chalks outside them. There was a buzz about it, different from the laid-back atmosphere of the Blue Vue Hotel and its quaint surroundings.
Differing styles of music filtered from several bars as they walked, all amalgamating into one mixed up fusion that highlighted the varying tastes of the town’s visitors.
There were shops selling souvenirs, traditional Greek cafés and gyros grills, plus quaint little stores offering olive wood items, dream catchers, linen and lace. If only Ellen had enough money to purchase gifts. Still, browsing and inhaling the exotic mix of scents – from aromatic wood to spicy meats – was a completely free treat she could indulge in.
She looked to Yan. ‘Do you like it here?’
A moped zoomed past them, beeping its horn in response to a stray cat.
‘I have only been here once before,’ he responded.
‘Oh.’
‘Most of time Tanja go with the trip. She is my boss,’ he answered.
‘Is she a good boss?’ Ellen asked.
‘She is much better than last boss.’
‘What did that boss do to you?’
‘He make me leave Bulgaria,’ Yan responded. He stopped walking. ‘It is there. See?’
Ellen followed the line of his arm and looked in the direction he was pointing. There, just a few hundred yards aw
ay, were distinct fingers of rock jutting out into the ocean. Their make-up was pale, a biscuity cream colour and, even from this distance, she could see the stacking effect, layers and layers of sandstone, one set upon another. She hadn’t seen anything like it before. It was mesmerising.
‘You have drink?’
Yan’s question brought her back to the pavement on the edge of the beach.
She shook her head. ‘No, I left in a bit of a hurry.’
‘I get this,’ he said, indicating the shops across the street.
* * *
Ellen carefully negotiated the rocks as she followed Yan’s long strides up the pathway to the top of the rock formation. It wasn’t a steep climb but there was no let-up in the ferocity of the sun. She really needed some of the water Yan had purchased.
‘You are OK?’ he called over his shoulder, turning slightly to look at her.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Just hot,’ she replied, trying hard not to pant.
Speaking of hot, it wasn’t just the sun that was increasing her temperature. The only thing she’d had to look at in the last fifteen minutes was Yan’s taut thighs and calves as they powered up the incline. She’d taken part in highly inappropriate ogling Lacey would have been proud of.
‘We are here,’ Yan announced, stopping.
Ellen caught her breath and took the final steps up to join him. The view made everything else fall away. From this vantage point, the almost chalky consistency of the rock underneath her feet, she could see for miles. Across the water the width of a sandy beach was visible, with people sunbathing under umbrellas, then rows of magnolia and terracotta coloured apartments and houses, before finally the vibrant greens of the pine trees on the hills.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispered.
Yan took a step closer to the edge, looking over into the swell in the middle of the rock where water was thundering in and out, filling and emptying with the tide. ‘I think of how many people have stood here over the years. How rock has changed or how it has not.’