by C. K. Martin
TAPAS
AND
TANGELOS
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Published By Rogue Hedgehog Media
Copyright © 2017 C.K. Martin
All rights reserved.
The tangelo is a citrus fruit hybrid of tangerine and pomelo or grapefruit. The size of an adult fist, they have a tangerine taste and are juicy at the expense of flesh. They generally have loose skin and are distinguished by a characteristic nipple at the stem.
Chapter One
Hayley tipped her head back and let the shower’s tepid spray rinse away the last of the soapsuds. She checked her arms one final time for splashes of paint before turning off the water. It slowed to a trickle and then continued to drip onto her right shoulder. That would be a job for Pablo to fix another day.
She stepped out and despite the heat of the day, felt her wet skin prickle. The sun still shone bright and fierce, but once night fell, the breeze would do its magic. Soft and gentle, it brought with it a calm to close the day. Hayley loved this time of year. It was still quiet and relaxed. From the end of July through to early September, the days would be too warm and everywhere buzzed with tourists. Since she had moved here, even the locals had stopped taking siesta, caving instead to the demands of a twenty-four seven clientele from the cooler parts of Europe.
There were still a few more weeks before the frenzy happened. Weeks during which she could continue to enjoy the sunshine and slower pace of life. It was certainly better than being back in England with its rainy days and grey skies.
Through the open window, the smell of meat sizzling on a barbecue drifted in. Hayley suppressed a smile. It was Pablo’s attempt at an apology food for his new guests. If you could call them guests. At the moment, it was a tenuous bargain on both sides.
She’d warned him not to advertise that the new - and only - backpacker’s hostel in the small Spanish resort was ready for business until it actually was. He’d told her it would take time for word to get out there. There would be no problems. He’d clearly underestimated the power of the internet.
She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The old building had fallen into a state of complete disrepair when the previous owners became too old to maintain it properly. The first time he had taken her to see it, after he had already completed the purchase of course, he had thrown back the doors and she had stepped back through time.
The traditional thick stone walls kept the building warm in winter and cool in summer. Something the previous owners had relied on as Pablo came to discover, when the basic water heating system failed to spring to life. It was the first of many problems the old building had thrown at him, but he had persevered. No problem was really a problem in Pablo’s eyes. It was merely something that he would get round to fixing. Eventually.
Still, despite these non-problems being largely of his own making, she had caved when he begged her for help. His mistaken belief was that people would call ahead to make a booking. Then he would tell them, apologetically of course, that they were full. A small lie until all the repair work was complete. Instead, he had been surprised by a knock on the door and the arrival of a young man with a strong German accent asking for a room for the night. Pablo had been forced to send him away to the main strip of the resort and call in a favour with one of his friends who happened to manage the front desk at one of the hotel chains there. That had kicked the renovations into high gear and Hayley had answered the begging call.
As she stepped into her shorts, she noticed a splash of bright white paint just above her knee that she had been unsuccessful in scrubbing away. She rubbed it again with the rough towel until most of it came off. Without a mirror in the room - another to do item on Pablo’s list - she could only hope there wasn’t any on her face or in her hair. At least the water had remained warm enough until she finished her shower. She hadn’t been able to tell if Pablo was joking when he warned her it might not.
She walked through the main hallway of the old house towards the large open space at the back. To call it a garden would be an overstretch. Perhaps, once, it had been, but like the rest of the house, the previous owners had failed to maintain it. A few olive trees, gnarled and twisted from the wind that pressed the island’s coast in winter, had stood their ground. The rest of the space was nothing more than the dusty, burnt orange soil that covered much of the island, hiding the dark volcanic rock below.
Despite the poor landscaping, the view was beautiful. She understood why the old couple had stayed there long after they were capable of managing the property. Set high on the hillside, a single-track road swept down to the old fishing village to the right. To the left, the natural bay that attracted the tourists and holiday companies was gearing up for high season. From way up here, it was possible most of the time to pretend it wasn’t there. Directly ahead, the ocean spread out, still and flat; its gradient from turquoise to inky blue making it picture postcard perfect.
‘Cerveza?’ Pablo asked, handing her a bottle before she could accept or decline. The beer was chilled and she took a grateful sip. ‘Nice view eh?’
‘It’s beautiful. The whole place is. Or it will be, once you actually get it finished.’
‘We make good progress, no? Two bedrooms. Two bathrooms. That is all we have left.’ He shrugged to indicate it was no big deal.
‘Plus the rooms on this side.’
‘Small detail.’ Pablo dismissed and took a pull on his beer. The three guests he had accepted got their rooms at a bargain rate. Faced with the alternative hotel prices, they had been more than happy to stay, even if the amenities weren’t going to get the place a five star rating any time soon. Pablo’s good-natured way with people was part of a smoke and mirrors act; his kindness made them overlook that there was only one working shower. The lack of air conditioning would be bearable for now, but in the middle of summer, even Pablo’s charm wouldn’t be enough to keep people cool.
‘I think your meat is burning.’ Hayley pointed at the smoking barbecue, where the meat was changing from cooked to charred. ‘And I’m starving.’
‘Of course. You must eat.’ Pablo grabbed her hand and pulled her over to his makeshift cooking station. She smiled at the backpackers who had gathered on an old bench to look out over the sea as they ate. They were already onto a second bottle of inexpensive local wine, a relaxed look settling on their faces. She could understand it. It was why people came here.
Hayley was almost tempted to sit with them. Instead, she took the plate of meat and rice Pablo had piled high for her and began to tuck in where she stood. It was basic, but it was good. If he was doing this for them everyday then it was obvious why they were happy to stay in the half-finished hostel. ‘This is good,’ she said in between mouthfuls.
‘It is nothing,’ he waved her away, but she could see he was secretly pleased by the comment. ‘I think I might stay here.’
‘I
thought you were going to get someone in to run the place?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. It is so beautiful, no?’ He tossed another piece of chicken over the coals.
‘It is.’ It would be a lie to disagree. Of course, she knew he wouldn’t stay around once it was complete and the days became routine. Pablo always needed something new to capture his attention and keep his hands busy. The view would only keep him contented for a while. Then it would be off to the next project.
‘Um, excuse me?’ A voice from behind them made them both turn around. She didn’t say a stereotypical g’day but the Aussie accent came through loud and clear. Hayley saw a young woman in shorts shielding her eyes against the setting sun. ‘Is this the hostel?’
‘Si, si,’ smiled Pablo, warm and welcoming. Hayley thought she saw a hint of panic in his eyes. ‘Welcome!’
‘I couldn’t find the reception so I came straight through.’ She gave a bright smile and Hayley resisted the urge to tell it was because there wasn’t one yet.
‘I am the manager.’ Pablo threw his arms wide to denote his full ownership of the building and beyond. ‘How can I help you?’
‘My name’s Kate Lanthorn. I’ve booked a room here?’
‘Ah yes. Miss Kate. I remember.’ He turned and gave Hayley a smile that she knew from years of experience meant the exact opposite was true. He had completely forgotten he was expecting another visitor today. This meant, of course, there probably wasn’t a bed made up for her. This would be interesting. Like a cat with nine lives, he would make his way around the problem, but it was still fun to watch.
‘The dormitory is almost finished I’m afraid, but it is completely fine to sleep in. We are running a little bit behind schedule with some of our repair work. But do not worry, for tonight I cook a meal for free to welcome you.’ He pointed to the barbecue as evidence of good faith.
‘Sure thing. But I booked a room. A double, not a dorm?’
‘The double?’ Pablo faltered and recovered quickly. ‘Ah yes. The double. Please, sit with the others and help yourself to food. To wine. I will just go and check your room is ready.’
Hayley chuckled as Pablo practically sprinted back into the building. She knew for a fact that the double room was not ready for anyone to sleep in it. It was where she had dumped her belongings earlier that day. She hoped Kate was aware that in this part of Europe ‘double’ often meant two singles pushed together anyway. It was likely to be Pablo’s saving grace this evening. She looked over Kate’s shoulder for signs of a telltale boyfriend. None had appeared.
‘Hi, I’m Kate.’ The young woman dropped her backpack gently to the floor and gave a half wave.
‘Hayley.’ She realised that between the plate and her fork, she didn’t have a free hand to extend. She opted for a smile instead.
‘Is that guy okay?’
‘He’s not the most organised, but he’s a good man.’ She snuck another look at Kate. Her light brown hair was tied loosely back, bleached almost blonde from constant sun exposure. She had a healthy outdoors look that Hayley didn’t see very often. The tourists who turned up for two weeks were usually lobster-red as they tried to cram a year’s worth of sunshine into fourteen days of hardcore exposure. Instead, Kate’s face had a few cute freckles on the bridge of her nose and her exposed shoulders were a soft caramel colour. Hayley forced herself to look away and back up to those eyes.
‘As long as this is a genuine backpacker’s, and not some dodgy serial killer place. That’s always the risk with new ones, isn’t it?’ Kate leant in and placed a conspiratorial hand on her bare arm.
Hayley resisted the urge to step away. Her stomach lurched with the dangerous territory. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe.
‘I guess it is. Wine? Food? Wine?’ The words came out in a rush. She moved closer to the barbecue and nodded that Kate should join her. ‘Pablo would want you to help yourself.’
‘No worries.’ If Kate had seen something in her eyes, she showed no sign of it. As she filled her plate, Hayley chanced another glance in her direction. The fading sun bathed Kate in flattering light. That was all, she told herself. It was better to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. A distant memory, the feeling of attraction, was released for a moment before she put it back in check. It was a momentary lapse of emotion. That was all.
Hayley swallowed. ‘So, will your, erm, other half want a plate as well?’
‘Other half?’ Kate looked confused.
‘The double room?’
‘Oh, I always get a private room when I go somewhere new. Most places don’t do singles, so I ask for a double. Didn’t even think about it. I’m here alone.’
‘Oh.’ Danger crackled in the air. Whether it was from the admission that she was a woman travelling alone or from something else, Hayley didn’t want to examine further. ‘I’ll be over there then.’ She hurried over to the table to join the others before waiting for a response.
Perhaps it was tiredness that made her weaker than normal. Or the paint fumes that had messed with her head. But as Kate piled her plate high and walked over to join the group, Hayley felt her heart begin to beat in time with the swaying of her hips.
#
The evening settled down into a convivial atmosphere after the sun set. Despite his lack of forward planning in every other area, Pablo had lights strung up in the outdoor space, bathing them all in a soft glow. It was just bright enough to see by, but dark enough that Hayley could sneak glances at Kate every now and again. Every third time, or so it felt, she would find Kate looking straight back.
Hayley knew she should stop drinking and head home. Her friendship with Pablo only obliged her to be here for so long and that time was up a few hours ago. When he had finally been persuaded that everyone had eaten enough, he had finished cooking and joined them. He had lit a handful of citronella candles in brightly coloured glass jars and set them down on the table. As he told them wild stories in broken Spanish, for the first time Hayley could see his vision of what the hostel would one day be.
If his guests were expecting some kind of backpacker’s party atmosphere, then they weren’t going to get it here tonight. Or perhaps ever. It wasn’t really a Club 18-30 tourist trap even in the main part of town. Over the years, she had experienced some of those youngsters in her bar, looking for a good time and finding no one to have it with, unless they happened to find grey-haired retirees attractive. Or married men who had somehow managed to leave their wives and kids back in the hotel room after a busy day at the pool.
Pablo had assured her that businesses in the resort were on the up and up. She hoped he was wrong. But seeing all the faces here tonight, she conceded it was nice to have something new in town after so long.
When Kate had returned from being shown to her hastily assembled room, Hayley knew she had decided to stay after all. A strange sense of relief had hit her and she tried to convince herself it was just happiness that Pablo was able to keep another paying customer. She wanted him to do well. Wasn’t that what friends were for?
As Kate flashed her a conspiratorial smile, it became harder to lie to herself.
Instead, she listened to the chirping of cicadas fill the air as the others around the table compared travel notes. They all seemed so young and yet so experienced in comparison to her. She had lived in England until she arrived here when she was about their age. She hadn’t moved on since. The town had become her home. The furthest she ever travelled was to the main city in the north to complete bureaucratic paperwork. Even then, she only stayed long enough to get it done, have a coffee and a bite to eat, then return home. She was not the travelling kind. Being settled meant something to her.
Everyone at the table had been to Australia apart from her and Pablo. He shrugged when everyone else had agreed enthusiastically about a particular town. Three out of the four guests had also been to Thailand. She had finally realised that was where they were talking about, after they’d listed an itinerary of exotic sounding names. Hayley had l
ooked at the ocean and then back at Pablo. She saw him smiling at her and knew he felt the same way. Why travel the world, when you had all this right on your doorstep?
The wine continued to flow throughout the conversation. A young Tempranillo, effortless to drink. Hayley had paced herself, knowing she had to get back down the hill and to her own bed. She could see the lights twinkling in the darkness when she stood to get another bottle of wine at Pablo’s request. The others had not been so cautious. Although they weren’t rowdy, the Swedish girls were slurring their words and eventually stood up to carry themselves off to bed. Pablo followed them inside - possibly to protect his freshly painted walls from their stumbling - and the other young man at the table stood up and followed too, wishing her and Kate goodnight in a language that certainly wasn’t English, Spanish or anything else that had its own dictionary.
Hayley watched as Kate leant back, resting her hands on the bench and turning her head up to the stars. ‘I think I like it here.’
‘It’s a beautiful place.’
‘We’re lucky to find it before everyone else does.’ If Kate was as drunk as the others were, then she wasn’t showing it. Hayley knew that Aussies could hold their drink. She hadn’t had this much herself in a long time, despite her best intentions. It had been too easy, with Pablo topping up her glass and the casual conversation flowing around her in the warm air. One beer was her usual limit. Tonight she felt her inhibitions begin to fade away and it both excited and terrified her.
Besides, it was easier to watch Kate if she was hiding behind a wine glass.
‘I’m not sure this place will ever be a tourist hotspot.’ If it did she would leave, thought Hayley, but there was no need to tell Kate that. ‘Besides, it would probably ruin the town.’
‘I think you’re wrong. Over the next few years, I think this will become a really popular place for people like us.’