Dave lay in bed again for what seemed like ages, mulling over the situation. Deep down, if it was not for Ash he would have loved to have a strange, good looking blonde sneaking into his bed. But Ash had got under his skin, and now he felt guilty even though it had been completely beyond his control. Would she believe him if he told her? Would she think there was something cynical in it? Not wanting to rock the boat, he decided the best thing was to forget it ever happened.
* * *
Rachel briefly woke to hear the hotel door close. Light, quick, footsteps ran over the ceramic floor tiles into the bedroom; she observed Gemma sneak into bed and smiled to herself.
Later that morning at a more sociable hour, Rachel walked out of the bedroom to glorious sunshine lighting up the large, modern, open plan living area. The ceramic floor tiles were already warm from the sun shining through the window; Rachel wiggled her toes, giving an extended stretch before walking out on to the balcony where Ash was already relaxing with croissants, jam and strawberries. She sat down beside her, managing to squeeze out a small ‘Morning’ and reached for a croissant.
The two girls sat in silence, looking out over the resort as holidaymakers went for their morning swim in the large figure-of-eight swimming pool. A strong morning wind was blowing across the sea, making it look like a large meringue, or as Ash’s mother said, small white horses riding the waves. They could see the beach filling up with sunbathers, the banana boatman was getting his life jackets out of his locker ready for the holidaymakers, and the pedalos were lying motionless on the sand, waiting for another day’s use.
Rachel sighed; the days were going so fast, rolling into one. The girls wished they would slow down so they could make the most of their holiday.
Ash put down her cup of tea. ‘Just think, this time last year I was in Cornwall, planning a girly holiday with Laura to here.’ Laura was an old family friend
‘Why didn’t you go?’
‘Lee talked me out of it.’ She turned, looking into the living room where she saw Gemma, hungover, stumble to the bathroom.
‘Don’t worry Ash, you live and learn.’
Ash was not missing Lee, just wishing she had left him long before she had, wondering how different her life would have been without him. Now she felt herself thinking about Dave; she missed him, wondering what he was doing or if he was thinking or missing her. She didn’t dwell on it for too long—there was no point in consuming herself with thoughts of events she could not control.
An hour passed; all the girls except Gemma were dressed, sitting out on the balcony ready to head off into Ibiza for a day, for a spot of shopping, sunbathing with one or two cocktails, and the prospect of dishy young Spanish men.
The girls had been excited about their trip into Ibiza town since they had arrived. San Miguel was so far away they did not have the luxury of the town on tap.
Ash went to check on Gemma as she could no longer hear any more noises coming from her room; she wasn’t gone long before retuning to the balcony with a frown then followed by a smile. She explained that Gemma was in no fit state to be walking around Ibiza, as she had just found her sleeping, head in arms, hunched over the dressing table, hairbrush still in her hand.
Ash put Gemma back to bed, telling her to phone her mobile once she was up, and the girls would all meet her at a landmark once she got into Ibiza town.
‘You old drunk!’ shouted Rachel into the living room from the balcony.
‘Oh don’t be mean,’ Ash protested.
A small voice rolled back from Gemma’s room but no one could quite hear what she said.
‘Speak up, sweetie,’ replied Jules.
‘I said “Bugger off!”’ the croaky voice drifted out, slightly louder this time.
All the girls burst out laughing.
After they had stopped shouting back and forth to poor Gemma, they made their way out of the hotel room, giggling as they went.
Everyone excitedly gathered in the hotel lobby waiting for a cab. Ash was very quiet, concerned about leaving Gemma in such a helpless state on her own. She felt a pang of guilt spread over her, knowing that if she was the one feeling hungover in a strange country and after making such a life-changing decision as Gemma had just done by leaving her husband, she would want a friend around to comfort her. She thought for a while and decided that the best thing to do would be to stay.
‘Guys, I think I’m going to stay here and look after Gemma. Don’t tell me not to because I would do the same for any of you if you were in that state—’
‘Ash, that’s nice of you but it’s your holiday too. You were looking forward to today. She will be OK,’ Rachel pleaded with Ash.
‘I don’t mind. Really, I can bathe by the pool. Check on Gemma… then come in later with or without her… I want to stay—that’s final.’
Ash’s face said it all. Rachel knew her well enough to know that if Ash thought she was doing the right thing, then no one or anything could change her mind. She enjoyed caring for people and it came very naturally to her.
She waved them off, then made her way back up to the room. Ash heard Gemma being sick in the bathroom; quickly she ran in, holding her hair up while rubbing her back. Gemma sat on the floor, not able to move, the room seemed unstable or maybe it was her who felt unstable; her stomach churned, wrenching independently from what her brain was telling it to do, making her throw up again. Ash helped her back to bed and put a bucket on the floor beside her; she sat outside on the balcony reading a book with an ear out listening for any whimpers, checking on Gemma every now and then.
An hour passed with no more tears, or puking. Armed with a mobile phone in case Gemma needed her, Ash made her way down to the pool to have a swim, leaving Gemma with a clean bucket and a glass of water.
Chapter 12
The yellow cab pulled up outside McDonald’s over the road from the harbour. The girls paid the cab man then walked toward the harbour. The town was busy. They both decided to stop for a cappuccino outside a small Spanish sandwich bar on the beach front. Rachel lit a cigarette while Jules ordered the drinks from a small, strange-looking Spaniard with an Elvis Presley haircut and the biggest nose she had ever seen.
‘Oh my God, Rach did you see that nose?’ Jules took a cigarette from Rachel’s box, still looking at the waiter as he made the coffee inside the bar.
‘Jules, you freak, stop staring.’
‘I’m not the freak, he is. Have a look when he comes back.’
Jules pulled out a mirror with her powder compact to touch up any shiny patches on her face, dabbing at her nose, then sat back to relax in the sun watching the passers-by.
A few minutes later the waiter came back with the cappuccinos. Jules kicked Rachel under the table, trying not to laugh as the man put the drinks down. Rachel smiled as she took the coffee, staring directly at the waiter’s nose.
‘Jesus, you’re right… So much for dishy Spanish men, eh,’ Rachel blurted out as the man walked off.
The two girls were so engrossed in the waiter, they had not realised they were sitting next to a table of three English lads who were staring right at them. They seemed slightly yobbish, quite intimidating as they howled with laughter, slumped back in the wooden chairs with no tops on, but also noticeably good looking.
Rachel nudged Jules to point her attention to the English yobs and away from the big-nosed waiter. Jules looked over at the table Rachel was looking towards then quickly looked away as her eye caught the gaze of one of the yobs. Rachel smiled with raised eyebrows at Jules; a cheeky grin spread across her face.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Rachel gave a wicked grin.
‘More than likely… I think it’s time to have some unadulterated fun,’ said Jules, and then gave a deep sigh.
‘What? What’s up hun?’
‘I can’t do it.’
‘What?’
‘Them! I can’t do them.’
‘What? Why? They’re hot.’
Jules moved her sunglasses down
her nose then leaned forward. ‘Jon… I really like him.’
‘Oh… he’ll never know. You’re on holiday. It doesn’t count.’ Rachel sat back in her chair, shrugging off the objection.
‘This is true… very true. But you have no conscience and I do, so you see, that just won’t work for me. No I’m going to be good within reason.’ She looked pleased with herself.
Rachel looked at her with a twisted mouth and frowned looking bemused.
‘Jules… define what that means please?’
‘Well, that means I can have a flirt but no kissing or sex… but I can still have fun winding them up.’
Rachel laughed, picking up her glass. ‘Whatever makes you feel better, babe, as long as we’re having a laugh I don’t care… I’ll sleep with them for you, and let you know if you missed out on anything, yeah?’
‘Marks out of ten?’ Jules demanded.
‘Yep…’
‘Nice one… I can live my single life through you, so I want to know every dirty detail.’
Rachel crowed with laughter ‘OK, you dirty bitch, I can do that.’
Jules glanced over at the table where the largest of the three guys was still looking over. He smiled and winked; Jules blushed and giggled, turning back to Rachel.
* * *
Ash worked on her tan, letting the sun slowly dry the chlorine-filled water after a nice dip in the pool. She laid out her towel on a light-brown wooden sun-lounger, ready to bathe in the hot midday sun. She closed her eyes behind her sunglasses, feeling the warm rays pour down on to her soft wet skin and gently drifted off into a light, lingering sleep, still aware of noises around her but with no muscle movement or any particular thought bothering her mind.
Not long after she dosed off, a beachball was thrown out of the pool by some children, landing on her legs. She sat bolt upright, startled by the wet plastic ball. The children looked sheepish and waved to say sorry. Brushing the water off her legs, Ash gave a smile, throwing the ball back to them. Now awake and feeling restless, she left her towel on the sun-lounger and wandering along the side of the pool in her white cotton bikini, and went to check on Gemma.
Gemma was sitting on the balcony with a tall glass of ice-cold water containing a slice of lemon and a slice of lime.
‘Feeling any better?’ Ash looked at Gemma with her feet placed up on the table, her hand shaking slightly as she smoked a cigarette.
‘Kinda… still feel like shit but not sick.’
‘Have you tried to eat anything?’ Ash sat down beside her.
‘Yeah I had a bit of toast… Sorry I messed up your day, Ash.’
‘Don’t be silly, hun. You haven’t messed anything up.’
‘Well, if I rest for a bit we could meet Rachel and Jules later?’
‘Sounds good to me. I’m going to go get some thing to eat. You rest here then we could go for a walk on the beach. See if you feel up to meeting the others?’
Gemma smiled, grateful. ‘You’re so kind, Ash. I wish I was more like you.’
‘Don’t be daft… Stay here and rest.’ Ash smiled, getting up to walk towards the door.
In truth Ash was quite content with the way things had panned out. She was really enjoying the day to herself but hoped Gemma would be well enough to meet the others later, as that would make a perfect end to a lovely day.
Later on that afternoon Ash came back to the hotel room, sandals in hand. A gentle scent of perfume drifted past her nose. Looking over to the breakfast bar she saw Gemma, sitting bright-eyed and fully dressed, wearing white cotton shorts, a vest top grouped together by an oversized red belt sitting nicely around her hips.
‘Wow, look at you… Diva…’ Ash stood admiring her for a second.
Gemma poured both of them a glass of wine.
‘Right, Ash get a move on… we have men to find.’
By the time Ash and Gemma arrived in Ibiza town centre, the sky had darkened and was softly lit by the street lights. They found Rachel and Jules perched high up on barstools, sitting outside a noisy bar down a busy lane, packed door to door with other bars holding people to their full capacity. The small lane was swamped with English clubbers; a parade promoting a dance venue flooded the cobbled road. There were people on stilts, muscular men in black dinner suits, bearing naked chests with dickey bow ties, skinny girls in green leotards jumping around with ribbons in their hands, even a flamethrower and a tightrope walker. People cheered, and drinkers from the bars joined in, dancing to the music as the parade passed by.
Ash looked up to see a man standing on a balcony dancing and waving his arms around in time with the beat. She realised he was a DJ who had his decks set up, above a bar on the balcony opposite them.
‘That’s wicked,’ she said, but no one heard her over the music.
Ash joked with a man dressed as a Victorian lady, his face heavily painted in make-up wearing a huge light pink wig; he held out a flyer for her to take. It was for a well-known all night club.
‘This is mega,’ Ash shouted to the others who were downing strange-coloured drinks at the table.
‘I know. We’ve been here ages, what took you so long!’ Rachel shouted back, shaking her head. ‘Never mind… here, down this, babe. You’ve got some serious catching up to do…’ She trusts a shot glass into Ash’s hand.
‘What’s this?’ Ash eyed the strange green liquid.
‘Just down it.’
They stayed in the bar until the parade had passed, then stumbled in and out of bar after bar packed with drunken clubbers, before slumbering off to the venue on the flyer that was given to Ash by the Victorian transvestite.
‘Whoop whoop,’ Rachel cried as they wobbled unsteadily down a cobbled alleyway. ‘Olli Olli Olli—’
‘Oi—’
‘Hey!’ A voice interrupted before Gemma could finish replying to Rachel’s chants.
They spun round and saw the three English yobs from the café earlier. Gemma stared at them suspiciously.
‘What’s up, boys?’ Rachel smiled.
‘Where you heading?’
‘Er… and you are… ?’ Gemma placed her hands on her hips.
‘It’s all good—we know them, Gem, we met them earlier today.’
‘Yeah, Gem. It’s all good…’ one of the boys mocked Rachel, staring directly at Gemma’s clearage. Gemma smiled sarcastically at him.
‘Gem and Ash, this is Dylan…’
‘Hi,’ Dylan said and continued to stare at Gemma’s cleavage.
‘ . . . Rees… ‘carried on Rachel.
Rees grinned at them as he lit a cigarette
‘ . . . and Eddy.’
‘So where you girls taking us?’ Dylan, the largest boy, put his arm around Rachel’s shoulder, looking round for Jules.
‘Er… well, here if you’re up for it.’ Rachel passed him the flyer
‘What? Don’t go there—it’s well fucking expensive. Let’s go to a place I know round the corner.’
‘Na sorry we’re going to this club.’ Rachel pulled away from his grip.
‘Babe, listen…’ Dylan tried to put his arm back around Rachel.
‘Come on girls, let’s go.’ Rachel pushed Gemma to walk on; Ash clung on to Jules’s hand.
‘Hey… don’t walk off!’ Dylan shouted. ‘I’m talking to you!’
Gemma looked at Rachel. ‘Thought you said they were all good.’
‘They were earlier.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Shit, girls, speed up. They’re following us—we need to get to the end of this alley.’
The four girls quickened their pace. They could hear music and shouting coming from the streets around them. All they needed to do was get back on to the main drag. Rachel and Jules suddenly felt sober, but blood now pounded in their ears. The boys started to walk faster and were gaining on them. They were halfway down the alley now but the cobbles made it hard to walk in heels.
Rachel heard Dylan slap his hand together and shout, ‘Come to Daddy,’ and then laughed.
; ‘Quick, start running,’ Rachel breathed in panic.
Ash and Jules, still clinging to each other, started to run; Rachel grabbed Gemma and they followed.
‘Oh baby, don’t run away!’ Dylan shouted, then sprinted after them.
They reached the end of the alley at the same time as Dylan reached for Rachel’s arm. Tugging at her, he pulled her towards him, laughing, and gripped her upper arms with both hands.
‘Aw… Don’t… Get off…’
Gemma tried to pull at Dylan’s arms while Ash and Jules shouted at him to let go. Quickly he pushed Rachel against the wall and leaned his heavy weight on her. Rachel screamed, looking around desperately for someone to help. The girls were arguing with Rees. Rees looked over at Dylan and shouted to him. Eddy turned towards Dylan and Rachel.
‘Dylan, what the fuck you doing mate?’ Eddy yanked Dylan away from Rachel. ‘Rachel, you OK? Fucking hell, Dylan mate, what’s got into you?’
Dylan squared up to Eddy, pushing him with his chest.
‘Lads, lads!’ Rees tried to push them apart. ‘You’re drunk—calm down.’
Rachel ran out of the ally and the girls followed, leaving the three boys arguing. They ran a few steps and were back into the hustle and bustle of Ibiza town. Bars lined the streets, and clubbers pushed into the girls as they fell out of bars and food outlets, singing and shouting.
‘Shit, what just happened there?’ Gemma panted as they slowed down to walking pace.
‘Don’t know but let’s get into a bar and off the streets for a bit.’ Ash pointed to a busy bar opposite them. Rachel followed close, holding on to Jules for support, her face drained of colour and her hand trembling as adrenalin pulsed through her veins.
Inside they managed to find a table to the side, away from the bar. Clubbers danced on the small dance floor next to them and quickly the table where they sat was half covered with empty beer bottles from passing clubbers as they left the dance floor on their way to another bar or club. The girls didn’t care about people leaving their finished bottles and pushing into them as they sat there recovering. The more people around the better.
‘You OK, Rach?’ Gemma put four bottles down on the table and everyone drank large mouthfuls.
Gut Feeling Page 12