Foreign Affairs

by Patricia Scanlan

  Brenda heard the shower being turned on. The man, in heavily accented but good English, invited Pamela to join him. The bloody nerve of him. The unmitigated cheek, she sizzled indignantly. Did he think he owned the apartment? It wasn’t fair! Brenda had paid the exact same amount as Pamela to share the apartment and now she couldn’t even have a shower because some gigolo was in there. In high dudgeon, she pulled out drawers and slammed wardrobe doors shut as she gathered together her bikini and towel. By God she’d have it out with Miss Pamela later on. She collected her lotions and Harold Robbins novel from the lounge, walked out onto the balcony, and slammed the French doors behind her.

  Julia was sitting on the adjoining balcony having a cup of tea. She was wearing dark sunglasses and was still in her nightdress. ‘Morning, Bren. God, have I a hell of a hangover,’ she groaned. I’m not surprised, you little plonker, Brenda thought crossly. She hadn’t come on holidays to listen to Julia whingeing about her hangovers or to watch Pamela behaving like a tart.

  ‘Do you think I could have a quick shower in your apartment? Ours is engaged.’

  Julia arched an eyebrow. ‘But there’s only two of you, there’s four of us,’ she said, puzzled.

  ‘Look, Julia, Pamela’s in ours with some fella, they could be there for hours. The sun is shining and I want to go and sunbathe and I need a shower after being out on the town last night. It will only take five minutes,’ she snapped.

  ‘Oh! Sure!’ Julia’s eyes were out on stalks. ‘Tara never came home at all, she phoned twenty minutes ago to say she’d met this hunk and stayed in his villa and he’s taking her out in his speedboat today.’

  ‘Lucky her,’ Brenda said drily. Pamela obviously wasn’t the only one who’d scored last night. ‘Eve’s up at the pool already,’ Julia volunteered.

  ‘How’s Joan?’ Brenda enquired.

  ‘Dead to the world. She puked all over the hall when we got in last night, at least I made it to the loo.’ Julia rested her aching head on her palm. ‘I’m never drinking again,’ she proclaimed. ‘If I came home like that after a night out Ma’d kick me out of the house, so I don’t drink much at home. Last night was the first time I ever really got locked,’ she confessed. ‘I think I’ll go back to bed for a while. I feel awful.’

  ‘Some of those cocktails pack a mighty wallop, so go easy on them. And you shouldn’t mix your drinks. You should try and drink lots of water before you go to bed, it helps prevent a hangover,’ Brenda advised kindly. She wasn’t going to make a pig of herself drinking. You could have hangovers at home, but you’d never get weather like this. Getting a great tan was high on Brenda’s agenda.

  Twenty minutes later, feeling much more refreshed, she was sipping strong coffee and eating soft crispy bread rolls and honey at an umbrella-shaded table by the pool. Her bad humour was somewhat soothed by the heat of the sun, the sapphire sea, and the rich purple-pink hues of the tumbling bougainvillaea. This was another world, and she wasn’t going to let Pamela and her Don Juan upset her for another second. She finished her breakfast with relish and then walked over to the lounger beside Eve’s. She gazed at her colleague in admiration. She looked every bit the sun-worshipper, stretched out on the lounger, with her limbs oiled and gleaming. She already had a light golden colour because she’d sunbathed every chance she got at home. Her emerald bikini displayed her slender figure to perfection.

  Brenda pulled her stomach in. She was not in as good a shape as Eve, she thought enviously. The pill had added a few pounds and her waist, hips and thighs were not as firm as she’d like them to be. But she didn’t look too bad in her black bikini, she assured herself, catching sight of a dumpling-shaped middle-aged woman who didn’t seem to mind letting it all hang out. Briskly Brenda oiled the lily-white limbs that marked her out as a newcomer. By this time next week, all going well, she’d be lying back, tanned, watching the next batch of pale new arrivals.

  It was a relaxing morning. She and Eve chatted or read or just lay with eyes closed enjoying the heat of the sun. By noon though, the sun became intense. And after a swim in the warm waters of the Mediterranean, both girls decided caution was the best policy. There was no point in getting scorched on the first day. They’d come out again later in the afternoon.

  Brenda let herself into the apartment wondering if the lovers were still at it. The sofa had been tidied up, the sheets and pillows put away. She could see through the half-open bedroom door that Pamela was in bed and the room was in semi-darkness. Of Don Juan, there was no sign. Well that was something, she thought with satisfaction as she put on the kettle and peered in to the fridge to see what she could have for lunch. They had bought some provisions with them so she settled on cream crackers and cheese.

  She was sitting in a shaded corner of the balcony reading her book and sipping a beer when Pamela made a sheepish appearance through the french doors.

  ‘Hi,’ she murmured. ‘I suppose you think I’m a bit of a slut.’

  You can say that again, Brenda gave a mental sniff. But the wrath she’d felt earlier had dissipated somewhat. She didn’t want to get into a row with her cousin.

  ‘It’s none of my business, Pamela. You’re on your holidays, you can do what you like. But I would like to be able to make myself a cup of tea in the mornings or go to the loo if I need to. I’ve paid my share for the apartment too,’ she pointed out mildly.

  ‘Well you didn’t have to go haring off like you did, slamming doors and things. Antonio is not King Kong, you know,’ Pamela said huffily.

  ‘Look, Pamela, it was embarrassing for me to walk in on the two of you having it off. What did you expect me to do, prance around and ignore the pair of you huffing and puffing while I made myself a cup of tea? I was stuck in my room and then when I went to go and have a shower, he was in it. So I don’t know what you’re being so snippy about,’ Brenda retorted.

  ‘Oh come on, Brenda, I know what’s wrong with you. You expect me to be ashamed and to behave as if I was in the wrong. Well I’m not bloody well going to. You’re not my mother, and you’re right, it is my business, so get lost.’

  ‘Pamela!’ Brenda was very taken aback by her cousin’s defensive outburst. The last thing she wanted to do was to have a row on holidays.

  ‘Well you just sound so bloody self-righteous and you make it sound so sleazy,’ Pamela retorted hotly.

  ‘Well I don’t mean to. It was just a bit awkward, that’s all,’ Brenda muttered.

  Pamela said nothing and walked back into the apartment. Brenda got up and followed her. ‘Come on, let’s have a cup of coffee out on the balcony. It’s a humdinger of a day. I’ve been for a swim, it’s gorgeous.’ Pamela took the proffered olive branch eagerly.

  ‘I’d love a cup of coffee, Bren, and I’m dying to go for a swim. I’ll just slip into my bikini.’

  Brenda made the coffee and carried it out to the table on the balcony, where she was joined a few minutes later by her cousin.

  ‘Isn’t this the life?’ Pamela stretched contentedly. ‘This time last week I was stuck in the office organizing a trip to Brussels for my boss, and after all my efforts, when I’d booked the flight, hotel and the rest of it, he turns around and cancels it. Well he can go to Timbuktu this week for all I care. I’m on my holidays for two whole weeks and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.’ She cast a glance at Brenda. ‘Do you think I’m awful for sleeping with Antonio last night?’ There was a pleading in her tone that struck Brenda. Usually, her cousin was very self-assured.

  ‘I thought you and Sean were on the verge of getting engaged. So I was a bit surprised,’ Brenda murmured.

  Pamela gave a sigh that came from her toes. ‘We are, I mean we’ve talked about it.’ She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. ‘I’m going to marry Sean, we’re getting engaged when I go back home. That’s why I came on this holiday. It’s my last chance to have a bit of fun before all the saving and settling down. I love Sean, I do, Brenda, honest. But you know something?’ She gazed earnestly at her cousin. �
��I just wanted to do it with someone else. Just to see what it was like. Is that such a crime? I know girls who have slept with loads of blokes. Look at all the people who have affairs. I felt that while I was still un-engaged, so to speak, I could do it and no harm done. It was my little treat to myself before I become the perfect wife and mother. Sean will never know unless you tell him.’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ Brenda exclaimed.

  ‘Thanks.’ Pamela smiled. ‘You’re a pal.’

  ‘What was it like then, this night of passion?’ Brenda asked, intrigued.

  ‘Oh, Bren, it was something else,’ her cousin enthused, and then blushed.

  Brenda laughed. ‘Tell me about it. Is it true then that Latin men make great lovers?’

  ‘Well I only have Sean to compare him to, but Antonio had a really sensual quality about him, if you know what I mean.’ Brenda nodded.

  ‘Last night, I decided for once in my life to give in to lust and forget about feeling guilty and just be guided by the needs and desires of my body. We’ve been brought up to think sex is something good girls don’t enjoy. Well last night was an absolute pleasure for me and I’ll never forget it. I think every woman should do what I’ve done at least once in her life as long as she takes care not to get pregnant,’ Pamela declared. ‘It was a celebration of my body and my femininity. I feel very sexy and sensual and desirable. I don’t consider that I did something so terrible that God is going to punish me.’

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ Brenda agreed. She could quite understand now Pamela’s reasons for having her affair. It sounded like a very fulfilling and satisfying episode. To be honest, after listening to her cousin, she wouldn’t mind having one herself, Brenda thought wryly.

  The opportunity came several nights later. They all went dancing in one of the plush night-clubs on the glitzy mile of discos, clubs and hotels that made up Puerto Carlos. As usual, Brenda was boogying away, enjoying herself. As soon as the slow set started she made her way back to the table and was just about to sit down, when a dark-haired, good-looking man came up to her.

  ‘Will you dance with me, Señorita?’ He smiled at her, showing even white teeth. His voice was deep, accented and ultra-sexy. She could see Julia and Joan looking at her enviously. So far, they weren’t having much luck with men.

  ‘Thank you,’ she smiled. He led her on to the dance floor. ‘My name is Raul Suarez, and you?’ He smiled into her eyes and she had to admit he was just gorgeous.

  ‘Brenda Myles.’

  ‘May I say, Miss Brenda Myles, you are a very very good dancer. I have been watching you, and now let us enjoy this dance, because I, too, love to dance.’ He took her in his arms and expertly led her around the floor. He had a natural grace and rhythm. Brenda relaxed into the dance and began to enjoy it. Raul held her lightly against him and she could smell the warm masculine scent of him. He didn’t maul or try to grope her, much to her relief. It seemed as though so many of the men she’d danced with these past few nights were just out for a cheap thrill. He was in his early thirties, she judged, and was well dressed and very well groomed. His ebony eyes were fringed by long jet-black lashes which matched the colour of his hair. His skin had an attractive olive tinge that gave him a faintly swarthy air. His mouth was firm and good-humoured. And, as her gaze rested on his lips, she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. For the first time since Eddie, she felt physically turned on by a man. It was a delicious sensation. She hadn’t believed that she would ever want another man. In the last few years, there hadn’t been one man who she’d have wanted to kiss, let alone sleep with. Except for those film stars of her fantasies that kept her company in the dark lonely nights. Now she knew exactly what Pamela was talking about when she’d described why she’d slept with, and was still sleeping with, Antonio.

  No-one at home, not even Eddie, had ever looked at her the way Raul Suarez was looking at her this minute. His eyes, dark and desiring, made her feel deliciously wanton.

  With difficulty she dragged her gaze away from his and turned her cheek slightly. He responded by resting his cheek against hers and murmuring in that heavenly voice, ‘Dancing is one of the greatest pleasures on earth, don’t you agree, Brenda?’ He rolled the r in her name, making it sound exotic.

  ‘Mmmm,’ she sighed against his jawline and moved a little closer. His arms tightened around her and they smooched together, enjoying the carnality of the rhythm of their bodies and the soft music and the dim lights. Brenda could have danced close against this gorgeous sexy man all night. They danced to two more slow sets until the music changed and the sound of funky disco music broke their idyll. Reluctantly they drew away from each other.

  ‘We must have champagne,’ Raul decreed, clicking his fingers at a waiter. Wow! thought Brenda to herself, deeply impressed. If he could order champagne he must be loaded. ‘Come, there are some nice seats further to the back, it is more private, we can talk.’ He took her by the arm and led her to a small alcove which had several two-seater sofas. They sat on one and he turned to face her. ‘So,’ he smiled. ‘Your name is Brenda, you dance divinely. That is all I know, tell me more.’

  Brenda laughed and took the glass of bubbling champagne the waiter handed her. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Everything.’ He waved his hand expansively. She told him she was Irish and on two weeks’ holidays. Brenda didn’t mention that it was her first time abroad, she didn’t want to appear gauche. She promoted herself to Bugs Bunny Powers’s job, feeling that a punch card operator was not quite impressive enough. She told him that she shared an apartment with her cousin. Another little fib. But to say that she lived at home with her parents still would make her feel immature and girlish, and did not go with the woman-of-the-world impression she was trying to give him. He seemed impressed, listening attentively to her as she spoke.

  Raul told Brenda that he owned a travel agency and lived alone in a villa further down the coast. He had travelled all over the world, but had never visited Ireland. ‘Maybe,’ he said, eyes twinkling devilishly, ‘that is something I will rectify very soon.’ Although she suspected that was the kind of line he used with every foreign female he chatted up, Brenda didn’t care. He had charm, buckets of it, even if she knew that he was out for nothing more than a good time. Just as she was. He oozed charisma. No-one had ever bought her champagne before, no-one had ever danced with her like that before. Enjoy it, she told herself firmly as he refilled her glass.

  ‘Would you like to go for a drive?’ he asked, caressing the inside of her wrist lightly with his thumb.

  ‘That would be nice,’ she murmured, thinking of other places she’d like to have his thumb caress. Brenda knew the evening would end in much more than a drive. Raul was very obviously interested in her and she was flattered. That was why she’d gone on the pill. In case something like this happened. To hell with it, she thought, throwing caution to the winds. If Pamela could do it so could she. It had been so long since she’d had a man’s arms around her and Raul was a fine thing.

  ‘I’ll just tell the girls I’m leaving,’ she said, and liked the way he stood up politely as she left the table. Good manners were such a turn-on, she thought happily. Brenda hoped she was as much a feminist as anyone, but she could say truthfully that she loved it when a man walked on the outside, gave up his seat, or held a door open for her. It made her feel feminine and protected and special and if that was supposed to make her feel any less equal, well it just didn’t.

  Tara and Julia were at the table, Pamela was dancing with Antonio and Joan was dancing with a red-headed Corkman. ‘That’s a fine thing you got off with,’ Tara approved. ‘I wouldn’t say no to him myself.’

  ‘He bought me champagne. He owns a travel agency and he lives in a villa down the coast.’ Brenda couldn’t resist boasting. For all her fabulous looks and sophistication, Tara had only landed a bank clerk, albeit a very handsome bank clerk. He was up at the bar buying a round of drinks.

  ‘Hot stuff,
’ Tara exclaimed with a hint of envy.

  ‘He’s only after one thing. You know that, Brenda,’ Julia interjected disapprovingly.

  ‘So am I,’ Brenda drawled, irritated by the other girl’s prim attitude. Julia was getting on all their nerves. It was clear that she wasn’t really enjoying her holiday. She spent her time moaning about the heat, the food, the mosquitoes and anything else she could moan about. She never lost a chance to make a snide remark to Tara and Pamela about Spanish gigolos. No doubt after tonight Brenda would be included in her barbs.

  Brenda knew that the other girl was feeling left out because she hadn’t been asked to dance much, or hadn’t got a date yet, so she tried to be extra nice to her. She always made sure to tell her she looked very well when they were going out at night, and shared make-up and perfume with her. She even lent her the baggy white cotton top that was the only thing she had that would fit the other girl. Julia latched on to her like a limpet and confided that she was disgusted with Joan, who’d turned out to be a right plonkie. Brenda tried to explain that Joan was on holidays and having a bit of fun and a good time, but Julia was having none of it. Joan had dropped even more in her estimation, Julia declared. At least Joan was making an effort to enjoy herself, Brenda was tempted to retort, but she restrained herself. There was no point in adding fuel to the fire. Julia was determined to be a wet blanket and disapprove of everything the others did. She was now looking at Brenda coldly. No doubt Brenda too had dropped in her colleague’s estimation.

  Tough, she thought as she saw Raul heading in her direction. ‘See you later,’ she said hastily. She didn’t want Raul to get too near the stunning Tara.

  ‘Have fun.’ Tara grinned.

  Julia ignored her.

  ‘I will. ’Night, Julia,’ she saluted the other girl.

  ‘’Night,’ came the curt response.