The Spanish Hotel

by Gary Philpott

  The door shut again and Alfonso never returned. Stuart and Claire were left alone in the bar until a middle-aged Spanish woman they had not seen before took his place behind the bar.

  “Mrs Alfonso?” whispered Stuart.

  “You’re the detective. Ask her.”

  “Can’t see the point. How do you fancy exploring some olive groves until the clock strikes three?”

  “I’ll have to change my shoes, but why not? Are you going to wait here?” Claire stood up.

  “Might as well.”

  Claire headed for the door marked Privado. The bar lady caught her eye, inspiring Claire to try out her Spanish. “Quiero dos botellas de agua por pavor. Habitación veintecuattro.”

  “We do not do room service,” said the woman abruptly.

  “No, sorry. I will collect them when I come back down. We are going for a walk.”

  “Large or small?”

  “Small please. Con gas.”

  The woman turned nonchalantly and opened a large glassfronted refrigerator. Before she had taken out two bottles of mineral water, Claire was through the door and starting to ascend the stairs up to their room.

  Five minutes later they were outside in the bright sunshine.

  “It is romantic here,” said Claire, as Stuart let go of her hand. She stepped off the road and onto a thin track running diagonally down the slope into the valley.

  Stuart tucked in behind her. “I’m getting the idea that it’s not romance that people come here for.”

  “Affairs can be romantic. Did you not have an affair before you broke up with your wife?”

  “Ah, the monkey theory. A monkey does not let go of one branch until he has hold of the next one.”

  “I think gibbons do.”

  “Ah well, there’s always an exception to the rule.”

  “Are you that exception?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Excuse me DI Doyle, there are no grey areas in such matters.”

  “Okay Miss Smarty Knickers. What if I knew there was another branch within easy reach before I let go of the first one? Would I be a gibbon or not?”

  “Is that what happened then?”

  “No. I guess I’m an average monkey that likes to play things safe.”

  They were now sufficiently far down the track to be below road level. Claire turned round and held her arms out wide to invite Stuart to embrace her. “You’re anything but an average monkey. I don’t do average monkeys.”

  Stuart put the two bottles of water he was carrying down on the ground and tucked his hands under her white linen shirt. He slid his hands round her waist to the small of her back and pulled her towards him. As they kissed, Claire put her arms over his shoulders.

  “You’re right, this is a romantic place,” said Stuart, as their lips parted.

  “Come on, let’s get a bit further down the hill.” Claire bent down and picked up one of the bottles. “I wouldn’t mind a closer look at some of those villas down there.”

  Stuart picked up the second bottle. “You’ll only go getting envious.”

  Claire was already heading downhill. “I wouldn’t mind finding out how much they cost if we can find an estate agent in this neck of the woods.”

  As a gap opened between them, Stuart admired Claire’s bum for the thousandth time in his life. They were not the tightest jeans she had in her wardrobe, but they still hugged her curves nicely. “Are you just curious? Or are you thinking about buying one?”

  “Semi-serious. I think I would prefer a place on the coast, but it makes sense to find how much a villa up here would cost. I would be stupid not to compare prices.”

  The single-track path dropped onto a wider track with a pair of tractor grooves running along it. On the left side was a low stonewall in need of repair. On the other side of it was an olive grove, with trees planted on large semi-circular terraces.

  Stuart quickened his pace to get alongside Claire. “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. The model agency is doing well. I can afford the debt. I’ve been recommended to have a look along the coast between Nerja and a place called Torre del Mar. Prices have dropped recently and the whisper is that they are open to offers from people with cash.”

  “But you won’t have cash?”

  “I’ve got enough for a good deposit, and what I am saying is that I won’t be arranging finance through the building company. As far as they will know, I will be a cash buyer.”

  “I thought you wanted to sunbathe?”

  “I do. What I had in mind was real estate shopping in the morning, sunbathing in the afternoon, and other things in the evening.”

  Stuart thought about picking up on the ‘other things’ comment, but didn’t. “I’m not sure now is the time to be buying real estate. From what I hear the market out here has frozen and all the predictions are that prices will drop.”

  “Twenty-five percent.”

  “Que?”

  “If I find somewhere I like, I am going to see how low they go on the day. Offer them twenty-five percent less, and walk away to the beach. I will be coolly soaking up rays and listening to waves breaking, while it is they who will be doing the sweating. Even if prices continue to drop, I will still have a good margin to act as a buffer. I’m looking at a medium to long-term investment with a holiday home thrown in. I’m not looking to flip it in twelve months time. What’s the alternative, buy at a peak like a lot of idiots do?”

  “They won’t drop twenty-five percent below their bottom line.”

  “Then they won’t sell it to me. I’m going to test the waters, see if I can’t find a nice place within walking distance of the beach, and a builder with a cash flow problem.”

  “Are you really that hard-nosed?”

  “How do you think I turned the model agency round after all those problems in two thousand? Remember back then? It was me that had to sell cheap to ride the storm. If I hadn’t, C&M icons would not exist today. Some of these building companies must be in a similar boat to the one I was in back then. What goes around, comes around.”

  “We should have gone to Dublin.”

  “We can go there another time. Let’s enjoy a bit of winter sun while it shines.” Claire stepped over a low part of the broken wall and into the olive grove. She continued downhill, meandering her way between the terraces. Stuart followed, quietly anticipating what he believed was going to happen.

  About fifty yards in, Claire found what she was looking for, the nearest thing to a patch of grass there was, and one that was bathed in sunshine. She dropped down and manoeuvred herself into an upright sitting position. Stuart stepped sideways into the shadow of an olive tree.

  Unscrewing the top off her bottle, she smiled seductively at Stuart. Her eyes looked naughty. Holding the bottle a few inches above her face, she tilted her head back, opened her mouth and started tipping water into it. Much of the water missed its target, running over her face and dripping from her jaw onto her chest.”

  “It will get filthy,” said Stuart.

  “It could do.”

  “I’m talking about your shirt.”

  “Are you suggesting I should take it off?”

  “The thought never crossed my mind.”

  Claire started to unbutton her shirt. Once the last button was undone, she slipped it off and threw it to one side.

  “Nice. Keep going.”

  “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  “A girl with nice boobs.”

  “Oh, these.” She dropped her eyes to her chest and lifted her hands up behind her back. “Should I take my bra off?”

  Stuart did not answer, he knew he didn’t need to.

  Claire unhooked her bra and allowed it to fall into her lap.

  “Excuse me, I’m in need of a bit more room.” Stuart popped the button and lowered the fly on his faded Levis. He slid them down onto his thighs, taking his underpants with them. He looked up again. The sight of Claire stroking her breasts and gently pinching her
nipples was all the encouragement he needed to take hold of himself.

  “Give me a taste.” Claire beckoned him with her tongue.

  The position of his jeans made his approach awkward, but he managed to step one leg over her thighs and get himself in a position to accept the invitation.

  First she explored him with her tongue. Next she took the first inch inside her mouth. Lifting her eyes up to meet his, Claire reached round with both hands to his exposed buttocks. She sunk her nails in. She pulled him towards her, taking him as far in as she could. A gentle bite close to the base of his erection indicated how well she had done.

  Looking down at Claire’s face moving back and forth, Stuart undid the bottle of water that was still in his left hand.

  Claire continued working hard at pleasuring him. A trickle of cool water hit her forehead and cascaded down her face. The trickle turned into a gush. Claire pulled back a little to make sure his groin area got a good soaking, sucking some of the water into her mouth as she did so. Once the bottle was empty, and the flow stopped, she took him deep again. She blew the water out of her mouth. What seemed like a good idea was in fact a bad one. The pressure forced water back into the back of her throat.

  The choice was to pull away, or choke to death. Claire pulled away, coughing and spluttering as she did so. The coughing and spluttering was seamlessly replaced by laughter.

  “Shit, I’ll not try that again.”

  “Shame. It felt good from where I’m standing.” Stuart joined in the laughter. “The thing I’m worried about is that most of that water ended up in my pants.”

  “Okay, I think I’ve recovered. Do you want me to continue where I left off, or would you prefer to delve elsewhere?”

  “Elsewhere please. But I am concerned about you having to lie on the ground.”

  “Does my hunk of a man have any suggestions?”

  “I know. Turn round and get on your hands and knees.”

  Claire met with the request. Stuart brushed the dust off her backside before moving his hands round her waist and onto the button on her jeans. Next she heard the sound of her zip being opened. His hands tugged at her waistband and pulled her jeans halfway down her thighs. Claire moved her knees as far apart as she could get them with her jeans restraining her legs.

  “A red thong eh. Did you have sex in mind when you got dressed this morning?”

  “I like to be prepared for all eventualities. Just lower it slightly and pull it to one side.”

  “Can I not take them all the way off?”

  “Are you saying you want me naked?”

  “You would look so much better if you were. And besides, I think a horny bitch like you wants to be naked.”

  “Ooh, you know me too well.”

  “That’s exactly why I want to marry you.”

  “Fucking hell Stuart! What a time to pop the question. Are you really asking me to marry you?”

  “I am. I’ve been plucking up the courage to do so for quite some time now.”

  “Well, you best take your fiancée’s kit off her then.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I thought you would never ask. Now get on with it, would you.”

  “Great.” He set about untying the laces on her trainers. “We best remember never to go in for one of those Mr and Mrs quizzes.”

  “What, in case they ask about the proposal?”

  “I was just about to fuck her in a Spanish olive grove.” He laughed loudly and pulled her trainers off her feet.

  “We would have to agree upon a false answer.”

  “No, I like it. It’s a great way to propose.” His voice oozed excitement. “What would you say when they asked you?”

  “I’m a competitive woman, I would have to say when you were about to do me doggie in a Spanish olive grove.”

  Stuart eased her jeans down past her knees. Claire facilitated their removal by raising each leg in turn.

  “I love this bit. I never get bored of it.” He took hold of her thong and took his time to slide it down her legs. “It’s like unwrapping the biggest Christmas present under the tree.”

  “So long as you are not disappointed when you get inside it.”

  “Oh, I won’t be.”

  “You’re fiancée is waiting to be fucked.”

  “I will fuck her in a moment, I’m taking time out to enjoy the view.”

  “Don’t take too long. My view comprises of a dirty patch of ground and an ant trail that seems to be eyeing up my bare flesh. Give me something to take my mind off them would you?”

  “Your wish…”

  As they walked back up the track towards the village, both of them were keen to bump into as few people as possible. Stuart’s jeans were still soaked in water around the upper thigh and groin area. Despite her best efforts to brush it off, the knees of Claire’s jeans were covered in dirt. Somehow her shirt had sustained a dark-grey stain on its right shoulder. It was a stain that refused to budge, despite the application of what was left of their water.

  Finally they reached the place they were sure to be seen.

  Stuart stopped at the entrance to the hotel and bar. “Walk in front of me, would you?”

  Claire thought about protesting, but then accepted his problem looked more embarrassing than hers. “Okay. Heads up and let’s not loiter.”

  “Oh, I have no intention of loitering.”

  “Come on then, let’s go.” She pulled open the door and went in, trying to look casual.

  Stuart followed closely behind, and slightly to her right.

  The bar lady smiled and coolly asked: “Can I get you a drink?”

  “Not at the moment,” replied Claire cheerily. The door marked Privado was now only feet away.

  Just as Claire reached for the handle, the door flew towards her, causing Claire to step back. As she bumped into him, Stuart stumbled backwards. A lady with short dark hair, probably in her late forties, stood in the doorway. She eyed the pair up and down before stepping forward. Claire and Stuart stood to one side to make way for her.

  A slightly older man in a light grey suit and bright yellow tie followed her into the bar. He never spoke, but they had to endure a re-run of his partner’s action as he ran his eyes over each of them in turn.

  Once he was out of the way, Claire quickly stepped through into the sanctuary of the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.

  Stuart overtook her. “I’m showering first.”

  “You bastard.” Claire chased after him.

  They just about made it back down to the bar with six minutes to spare before the planned rendezvous at three.

  “Two Diet Cokes please.” Stuart left the closest barstool for Claire and took the next one along.

  “We do not have any Coke Lights left. Only normal Coke.”

  “That’s fine. With ice please. Are you Alfonso’s wife?”

  “Yes I am. What of it?”

  “Oh, nothing. I was only curious.” Stuart decided to say no more until Alfonso arrived.

  Two beers followed the two soft drinks. Just as they were about to order two more, Alfonso appeared through the door.

  “Buenos tardes. I am sorry, I sleep too long.” Still holding the door open, he said: “Come, I show you.”

  Both Claire and Stuart slipped off their stools and followed him up to the third floor. He led them into the family’s private quarters. The hallway was all beige floor tiles and white walls. A crossed shape chandelier made from heavy dark timbers hung from the ceiling. Below a large dark framed mirror was a matching occasional table with a vase of five red roses on it. There were no windows, and Alfonso did not switch on the lights.

  They moved on down a passageway. The door to the living room on the right was ajar. Claire glanced inside as they went. The curtains were obviously closed, making it appear dark and dingy. A dark-brown leather three-piece with wooden armrests dominated the centre of the room.

  Alfonso continued on down past three doors on the left, and opened the
end door on the right. This room was bathed in sunlight. Once again, the bedroom furniture was made from dark heavy wood. The wardrobe was so large, Claire wondered how they ever got it in there.

  As she stepped round the door, the object they had been brought to see came into clear view. A large three-inch diameter telescope stood on a tripod, pointing out of the window. It was tilted slightly downwards.

  “Not for star gazing I take it?” Stuart raised his eyebrows and looked at Claire.

  “Have a look,” said Alfonso without apparent emotion.

  Stuart dropped his right eye onto the vertical eyepiece. It was already focused, giving him an extremely good view of a swimming pool. A woman in her late thirties was lying naked on a sunlounger.

  “Is she still there?” asked Alfonso.

  “She is.”

  “Let me see.” Claire put her hand on Stuart’s arched back.

  He lifted his head and stepped to one side.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Are you saying that Hasem spent days looking at a naked woman through his binoculars?” Stuart sounded sceptical.

  “I found this lady. I found her for you before I come get you. If you try, you will find other things to look at. Most men in this village have binoculars or telescope. More goes on here than meets the eye.”

  “That’s because of the guests who stay here,” said Claire. Oh dear, we can’t really throw stones, she thought. The idea that they had been watched less than two hours ago, made her tense a little. No, no one could have seen them there, could they?

  “Not only guests. Many people with money have villas here. When they come here, they come to relax.”

  “To relax without their clothes,” said Claire. She then plucked up the courage to ask: “Do they also have sex in full view of the village voyeurs?”

  “They do not think. They think they are too far away to be seen.”

  “Does your wife not mind?”

  “My wife sleeps at the back of the building.”

  “But does she know about the telescope?” Claire was struggling to understand the relationship they had.

  “I do not try to hide it. We are too old to separate. She does not want to be poor again.”

  “Thank you, Alfonso.” Stuart nodded. “I think we know all we need to know.”