by Paige Toon
Urgh.
I can’t wait for Holly to get here in a couple of days so we can check out the souks in Manama City. I haven’t had anyone to sightsee with and I’m dying to see the Al Fateh Mosque, plus, apparently, there’s this crazy tree, all alone in the middle of the desert, which is kept alive by an underwater spring! It’s called the Tree of Life, or something.
Yes, I’ve had a lot of time to read the travel brochures in my hotel room, can you tell?
By day five, though, I’ve had enough, and head down to the hotel bar for a change of scenery. Alcohol may not be illegal in Bahrain – unlike neighbouring Saudi Arabia – but I haven’t had anyone to drink with here, anyway. Will’s practically tee-total and Luis, well, Luis is Luis. But after several lonely evenings by the pool followed by solitary television viewing in my room, tonight I’ve decided I’ll get drunk on my own if I have to. Call me an alcoholic if you must.
The bar overlooks the swimming pool and blue ocean beyond. I stand and look out at it for a moment while slurping my cocktail through a straw. And then I notice a dark-haired man sitting alone at a table by the window. Luis.
The wave of relief is enough to make me bite the bullet and take my drink over to his table. It occurs to me as I reach it that perhaps he’s meeting a woman, but it’s too late to turn back. He’s seen me.
‘Hello, bun tart,’ he says.
I take a seat, too much in need of company to mind.
‘Hello, testa di cazzo,’ I reply with a smile.
‘Dickhead?’
‘You’re learning.’
‘Fair enough. Cheers.’ He leans across and chinks my glass.
‘What are you drinking?’ I ask.
‘Vodka tonic.’
‘Does your personal trainer know about this?’ I raise one eyebrow.
‘Not unless you plan to tell him.’
‘I’ll see how I feel later.’
He grins at me and I relax back into my chair.
‘So what are you doing down here?’ he asks, swirling the ice around in his glass.
‘Bored.’
‘No one to play with?’
‘No. I miss Holly.’
‘You’ll just have to play with me instead.’
‘I think you’ve got more than enough women to play with.’
‘Not tonight, though, bun tart.’
‘Piss off. Or how do you say it? Va se lixar?’
‘Well remembered. Do you speak any Portuguese?’
‘Afraid not. Just Italian.’
‘How’s that, then?’
‘My mother is Italian,’ I explain. ‘Although I’ve spent most of my life in America.’
‘So you grew up bilingual?’
‘Funnily enough, no. My mother never spoke to me in Italian. I learned it when I was a teenager.’
‘Wanted to get back to your roots?’
‘That’s right.’ Hmm. Actually quite perceptive. For an idiot. ‘My grandparents on my mother’s side live in Italy and I went to stay with them one summer when I was eleven. They didn’t speak much English so I started to teach myself Italian with books. Then I studied it at school when I returned to the States. Sorry, this is really boring.’
‘Far from it,’ he says. ‘What about your name? Daisy Rogers doesn’t sound very Italian.’
‘No. That’s my father for you. My middle names sound more Italian: Paola Giuseppe. I was named Paola after my grandmother. Giuseppe is my mother’s maiden name.’
‘Paola. There’s something feisty about Paola. I think it suits you more than Daisy.’
It’s not the first time I’ve heard such words and I shudder as a memory comes back to me.
‘And where did you learn to swear in Italian?’
I laugh. ‘Well, that was from an Italian boy I went out with.’
‘Aha! I see.’
‘Much to my father’s disgust,’ I add.
He leans forward with interest. ‘That’s a bit hypocritical considering he married your mother.’
‘You don’t have to tell me my father’s a hypocrite,’ I reply. Hang on, why am I opening up to him about all of this?
‘What about you?’ I change the subject. ‘Do you get along with your family?’
‘There are a lot of us, but yes.’
‘A lot of you?’
‘Mum, dad, three sisters and four brothers.’
‘No way, that’s humungous!’
‘Thirteen cousins, five uncles and four aunties.’
‘Grandparents?’
‘Alive and well.’
I sigh. ‘Wow. I’m jealous.’
He leans back in his chair again. I lean back in mine and rest the tips of my silver-grey ballet pumps on the low table.
‘Do you want another?’ Luis motions towards my drink and clicks his fingers for service.
‘Sure.’
A waiter comes over and takes our order. A few minutes later he returns with our drinks.
‘So,’ Luis says, crossing one leg over the other so that his ankle rests on the opposite knee. He’s wearing a red T-shirt and dark-denim jeans. ‘What’s going on with you and Will?’
‘What do you mean, what’s going on? Nothing’s going on!’ I can feel my face heating up.
‘You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.’
‘Oh, sure,’ I reply sarcastically. ‘Just like you didn’t tell anyone I nearly broke your legs.’
He cracks up laughing and almost spills his drink. ‘I was only joking.’ He waves his hand dismissively.
‘If Simon had heard you say that, I could have been fired,’ I point out, pedantically.
‘Simon did hear me say it.’
‘WHAT?’
‘Keep your bra on, bun tart, I didn’t know he was behind me.’
‘Keep my bra on? You are such a chauvinistic pig!’
‘Thanks.’ He flashes me a grin with his annoyingly white teeth.
‘How did he react?’ I push.
‘He just asked me if I was alright, if I’d been hurt, and I laughed and said of course not, you weren’t trying hard enough.’
‘Please tell me you’re joking . . . Oh my God, I can’t believe he hasn’t fired me.’
‘Far from it. You got a promotion.’
‘No thanks to you!’ I snipe.
‘Actually . . .’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What, you thought Will had requested you?’ he asks, smirking.
The disappointment is crushing. I look down at the table.
‘God, you crack me up. Have you met his girlfriend?’ he asks.
‘No. Have you?’ Now, I’m curious.
‘Yeah, at a do in London before the season started. Pretty.’
I fall silent and study my drink.
‘Not as pretty as you, though,’ he adds. I look up at him and there’s a familiar twinkle in his eye.
‘Shut up.’ But I smile at his teasing. ‘What about you? Have you got a girlfriend?’
‘No. It would be cruel to limit myself to just one girl. I need to share myself around.’
I shake my head at him in mock disgust. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-six. Why?’
‘That’s the same age as me!’ I exclaim. I was about to tell him he’s immature, but I’m easily distracted.
‘And Will,’ he adds.
‘No shit? What a coincidence!’
‘Yes, what a coincidence.’ He’s being mildly sarcastic. He knocks back his drink and holds up his empty. ‘Another?’ I nod and he raises his hand for service.
‘Can we get a bottle of champagne, please?’ he asks the waiter who has just arrived at our table.
‘Certainly, sir,’ the waiter replies.
I start to protest, but Luis interrupts. ‘As soon as possible, thanks.’
‘I thought you didn’t drink champagne?’ I’m confused as I watch the waiter rush away.
‘I don’t, but I want to freak Will out.’
‘Will?’
‘Don’t look!’ Luis hushes me, but I’m already sitting up in my chair like a hare in the headlights. ‘You are so obvious,’ he chides, half hiding his face with his hand.
‘Where is he?’ I demand to know.
‘Shh!’
‘Where?’ I can’t bear the thought of him going upstairs to his room without seeing me.
The waiter comes out from behind the bar area with a bottle of champagne and at that point, Luis stands up.
‘Will!’ he calls.
I still can’t see him, but I don’t have a clear line of vision towards the reception desk.
‘He’s coming.’ Luis grins at me as he sits down.
‘Are you winding me up?’ I ask, as the waiter pops the cork and starts to pour the fizzing liquid into two tall flutes. I can’t see now because he’s blocking my view.
‘That’s fine, thanks,’ Luis says to the waiter. He leans across the table and hands me a glass.
‘Hi!’ Will appears at our table and my heart flips. ‘Oh, hello!’ he says in surprise, looking down at me. His eyes flit from Luis to me and I have a horrible feeling that he’s getting completely the wrong idea.
‘Hi!’ I say warmly, trying to undo the damage. ‘Sit down, sit down! Can we get another glass?’ I call after the departing waiter. My voice sounds slightly unhinged.
‘No, no,’ Will brushes me off.
‘Oh, that’s right, you don’t drink.’ I start to giggle. It’s my nerves – and the fact that a few days without alcohol means it’s gone straight to my head.
‘I was just off to bed,’ Will says.
‘Don’t! Stay!’ I stand up and try to drag one of the really quite deceptively heavy chairs over to our table.
‘I don’t want to gatecrash,’ he says.
‘You’re not gatecrashing!’ I insist. ‘Is he, Luis? He’s not gatecrashing?’
‘Hmm?’ Luis calmly lazes back in his chair and sips his drink.
‘Tell him to sit down!’ Okay, now I’m sounding a bit scary.
‘Sure, take a seat.’
He does, and I immediately adjust my body language so I’m leaning forward to talk to him. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Training.’
‘You’re working late,’ I comment, impressed.
‘Yeah, I’m knackered.’
‘Just have one drink with us,’ I plead. ‘I’ve been bored shitless here.’
A waiter comes over with another glass. ‘I’ll just have a soda water,’ Will tells him. He’s wearing a baseball cap with one of the team sponsors’ logos on the front and when he takes it off, his blond hair has a slight dent in it. ‘So why have you been bored?’ He looks at me. ‘Are we not keeping you busy enough?’
‘No,’ I reply.
‘We might have to rectify that situation,’ Luis chips in.
‘You seem to be rectifying it now,’ Will tells him. Am I imagining the frosty tone in his voice?
‘I’m doing what I can,’ Luis replies.
‘Have you been out today?’ Will asks him.
‘Couldn’t be arsed.’
Will raises his eyebrows. But Luis did go out! I saw him leave with his personal trainer earlier.
‘You—’ I start, but Luis interrupts me.
‘Top up?’ His dark eyes look like they’re warning me. I shut my mouth again and obediently hold up my glass.
‘Thanks,’ Will says to the waiter returning with his drink.
Now I can’t think of anything to say. At the moment, Luis knows more about me than Will does. It’s strange how the people you care about least, sometimes know you the best. You let your guard down with them because you don’t mind that they see you, warts and all. If your personality malfunctions scare them, so what?
But I don’t want to waste this opportunity to get to know Will. I just don’t feel comfortable talking in front of his team-mate. We need a subject that’s safe. I know! I look across at Luis and smirk. ‘So where’s Alberta this weekend?’
Luis shrugs. ‘No idea.’
‘What, you didn’t call?’ I ask, mock innocently. ‘You didn’t write? You didn’t text? That’s not very boyfriendly of you.’
‘Boyfriend!’ He stiffens in horror.
‘I can’t believe you’d treat the boss’s sister-in-law with such disdain.’
‘She got what she wanted,’ Luis replies, with a wink.
‘I doubt that,’ I scoff, looking him up and down.
He chuckles good-naturedly. ‘She used and abused me. Then ran back to her husband in Spain.’
‘She’s married?’ I interrupt, looking at Luis in shock.
Luis laughs. ‘I’m joking. I would never steal another man’s girl.’ He gives me a sly look that says, ‘Unlike you.’
‘Neither would I!’ I reply crossly.
‘Isn’t she Catalina’s cousin?’ Will asks, seemingly oblivious to whatever’s going on between Luis and me.
‘Oh, yeah,’ Luis says.
‘Who cares?’ I ask.
Luis laughs. Will leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out under the table. He runs his hands through his blond hair and yawns.
‘Are we keeping you up?’ Luis asks.
‘I should probably hit the sack,’ Will replies, making to stand up.
No! ‘Have another drink,’ I plead.
‘No, really,’ he says, rising to his feet.
‘Got to run off and call his girlfriend,’ Luis says.
Will winks at him and smiles at me. ‘See you in the morning.’
I slump back down against the soft leather as I dejectedly watch him walk away.
Luis whistles low under his breath. I follow his gaze and see that two leggy blondes have just pulled up stools at the bar. I look back at Luis, but he’s still staring in their direction. My eye catches something on Will’s chair.
‘Hey, Will left his cap here.’ I reach across and pick it up. I could take it to him before he settles in his room.
‘Hmm?’ Luis asks, distracted.
‘I’m going to bed.’ I get to my feet.
He looks up at me. ‘You’re going to bed?’
‘Yes.’ I hide the cap behind my back.
‘Okay. I might go to the bar.’ He stands up lazily and I roll my eyes at him. ‘After you,’ he says.
‘No, after you,’ I reply. I don’t want him to see what I’m holding in my hands. He shrugs and leads the way out. ‘Night,’ I call, quickly moving the cap to my front as I turn away.
‘Bye,’ he calls back, but doesn’t even look in my direction as I walk up to the lifts and push the call button. Inside, I watch the numbers above the lift door glow red as we pass each floor. Finally we reach my destination as it comes to a smooth stop. The doors swish open and Will is standing on the landing.
‘Hi!’ he says in surprise.
‘Hi!’ I reply with equal surprise. I step out. ‘I brought you your cap.’
‘Aah, thanks.’ He reaches out and takes it from me, turning it over in his hands. ‘I was just debating whether to come back down for it.’
‘I saved you the trouble. Why were you debating? Too tired to make the long journey?’ I ask, jokily.
He puts his cap back on and leans against the wall, crossing his arms. ‘Er, no, I didn’t know if I should interrupt you and Luis again.’
‘Ha! You’ve got to be joking, you’d hardly be interrupting anything.’
His face is dark under his cap, but I can see him watching me in amusement.
‘Seriously,’ I hurry on to explain. ‘I was bored out of my brains. That’s the only reason I’d go drinking with that moron.’
He laughs. ‘That’s a relief,’ he says.
‘Is it? Why?’
‘I thought I was going to have to warn you off him, big brother-style.’
I ignore the use of ‘brother’. ‘You don’t have to warn me about him. I know what he’s like. I think he’s just pulled a couple of Screwdrivers at the bar, actually.’
He grins. ‘Well,
you’re welcome to come and watch a movie with me next time you’re bored.’
‘Really?’ My heart starts to pound faster.
‘Sure.’
I want to ask when, but don’t want to seem desperate. Now? Please, God, please, now.
‘Tomorrow if you like,’ he says, pushing himself away from the wall and standing up straight.
That’ll do! I’m a bit trashed at the moment anyway.
‘It’s a date!’ I tell him enthusiastically. ‘I mean, it’s not a date, but, oh you know what I’m saying.’
He laughs.
‘What shall we watch?’ I change tack. ‘It better not be a war movie.’
‘I can’t promise anything,’ he says as he sets off down the corridor to his suite. ‘But as long as you don’t make me watch any of that chick-flick crap, we’ll be alright.’
‘Okay!’ I call after him.
‘Thanks for my cap,’ he calls back, sliding his electronic key card into the slot and going inside.
‘Sure thing!’ But the door has already closed behind him.
Chapter 7
The next evening at eight o’clock on the dot, I nervously knock on Will’s door. He seems a little flustered when he answers it.
‘Come in,’ he says, waving me inside.
‘Is this a bad time?’ I ask, warily.
‘No, it’s fine.’ He shuts the door behind me. It’s then that I notice he’s still wearing one of his team T-shirts and it looks more than a little sweaty.
‘Have you only just got back from your training session?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, Tarquin kept me out later today.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I should let you shower and eat and stuff.’ I stand by the door, hesitantly.
‘No, don’t worry. Well,’ he says, looking down at his T-shirt, ‘I could probably do with a shower.’
‘I’ll come back, then?’
‘Or just wait in front of the telly if you like? I’ll be quick.’
‘As is your forte!’ I quip, before groaning inwardly. He looks at me like he doesn’t get my dodgy fast-driving joke. I’m not about to explain it so I point towards what I assume is the living room area.
‘Yeah, go right through.’ He, in turn, heads into the bathroom.
His suite is enormous and furnished with modern furniture. There are two grey suede-covered sofas facing a giant flatscreen television and I can see a huge super-kingsize bed in the bedroom behind the living room. Nice.