Here Come the Boys

by Milly Johnson

  ‘Ah, si.’ The receptionist bent down and pulled out a box from underneath his counter full to the brim with chargers, left by guests, Angie presumed. As luck would have it, the first one that Selina tried, fitted as true as Cinderella’s slipper. But then Selina always was a jammy git, thought Angie. She expected nothing less.

  ‘Very busy,’ said the receptionist, holding up one key on the world’s biggest fob bearing the number twenty-one. ‘Holiday. Just one room.’ He wiggled his finger between the women.

  ‘I think we’re sharing,’ said Selina.

  ‘I don’t think we are,’ replied Angie. ‘Two rooms. Dos chambres? Oh God, what’s Spanish for room?’

  ‘Dormitorino?’ suggested Selina.

  ‘That’s a made-up word surely?’

  ‘Lo siento.’ The reception guy lifted his shoulders with regret. He ran his hands over the key hooks at the back of him. ‘No nos quedan habitaciones libres.’

  ‘They don’t have any free rooms, I guess that means,’ said Selina. ‘We’re stuck with each other.’

  As if today couldn’t get any worse, thought Angie.

  Room twenty-one was three floors up. It was simply decorated and beautifully cool. It had a TV, an en suite – and one double bed.

  Great, thought Angie. She wanted a shower, but she had no clean clothes to change into. There were three days before they caught up with the ship. She needed new pants more than she needed food – and she really needed some food.

  ‘I’m starving and I need some clean knickers,’ said Selina, as if picking up Angie’s thoughts. Spookily she always had. Sometimes they used to finish off each other’s sentences at school – they had been that close.

  ‘Me too,’ replied Angie.

  ‘We might as well go out together and search for shops.’

  ‘Especially if you’ve got no visa card,’ huffed Angie.

  ‘I have cash,’ replied Selina with a sniff. ‘I’m sure I’ve got enough for a couple of pairs of drawers.’

  ‘Look, you just do your thing and I’ll do mine,’ snapped Angie.

  Selina shrugged her shoulders. ‘Fine. I’ll see you later then. Please leave the key on reception.’ And she grabbed her shoulder bag and trounced out of the door.

  Angie gave it a few minutes before she locked up the room. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Selina than was necessary. There was no sign of her outside, thank goodness. Angie crossed the road to what looked like a shopping mall. It was actually a train station which was full of shops but all of them were either closed or in the process of closing.

  Angie walked on and found a few stalls on the pavement selling T-shirts. The only one in her size had a huge Whitesnake emblem on the front and cost thirty euros. She was about to buy one when she turned it around and saw that on the back were the words ‘Make Some Fuckin’ Noise.’ That would have gone down well at the consulate.

  Empty-handed, she was returning to the hotel when she spotted Selina, carrying a large canvas bag. Selina waved over and then started drawing what appeared to be a pair of pants in the air with her finger. Angie really was desperate for knickers, so she crossed the road to find out what she was trying to tell her.

  ‘I’ve just found this place,’ said Selina, thumbing behind her. ‘They sell everything. And I mean everything. You can buy anything from a toothbrush to an inflatable giant penis.’

  The shop looked tiny from the outside, inside it extended like a TARDIS. There were racks of clothes, toiletries, toys, shoes, stacked floor to ceiling. Behind the counter was the smallest Chinese woman Angie had ever seen in her life grinning and nodding a welcome.

  ‘Oh my God, pants.’ Angie dived into the underwear area where knickers were hanging up on coat hangers. She chose four pairs which appeared to be the right size, before she looked for anything else. Her trousers were damp with perspiration and clinging to her legs so she hunted through the racks of clothes and found a one-size floaty dress that would have stretched to fit Augustus Gloop’s mother. Then she bought some flip-flops and a toothbrush.

  ‘I’ve bought toothpaste. You’re welcome to share.’

  ‘Thank you,’ replied Angie, not comfortable with the idea of sharing anything with Selina again, but feeling she should show some gratitude. ‘Have you bought any antiperspirant?’

  ‘Damn, I forgot.’

  ‘I’ll buy that then.’

  ‘Senorita,’ Selina addressed the small Chinese woman who must have been seventy at least, ‘do you have…’ She began to mime squirting an aerosol under her arm complete with hissing sound accompaniment.

  Amazingly the accurate depiction fell on stony ground.

  ‘Antiperspirante,’ Selina blurted out, not sure if she had remembered the word or made it up.

  ‘Ah.’ The Chinese woman pointed to a shelf on the far wall. The antiperspirants shared position with some children’s colouring books and bags of crisps.

  ‘Not exactly what you’d call an organised display,’ said Angie.

  ‘The madness suits the flavour of the day,’ smiled Selina.

  With a canvas bag full of emergency clothes and basic toiletries costing thirty-five euros in total, they left the shop in search of food. It was still very hot, considering it was now six o’clock. Angie spotted a bar on the corner and they headed towards it.

  The menu was basic. They each ordered a cheese baguette, chips and a San Miguel which arrived immediately and slipped down their throats like nectar.

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I had a cold beer.’ Selina sighed with pleasure.

  ‘You’re too used to champagne,’ said Angie, with no humour whatsoever.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Selina batted back. ‘Not as refreshing as this in the sun though. Gets warm far too quickly.’

  They sat in silence waiting for the baguettes to arrive. Angie could not think of a single thing to say to Selina that didn’t involve a shouty, sweary word.

  ‘I need a shower,’ said Selina, seconds after Angie thought the same thing. Even that made her cross, as if Selina were stealing her ideas.

  The baguettes came with fat chips and a complimentary dish of olives. Angie remembered trying her first olive at Selina’s house and spitting it out into her hand, judging it the most disgusting thing she had ever attempted to eat in her life. Now she loved them. How her tastes had changed over the years, she mused.

  ‘You used to hate olives. Remember you had your first one ever in our house?’ said Selina.

  Angie growled inwardly. Was this Selina Molloy or Psychic bloody Sally?

  ‘No, I don’t remember that,’ she lied, chomping down on the fat black olive after she had nibbled out the stone first. She much preferred them pre-pitted, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. The chips were hot and salty but quite hard. The salad on the side of the plate had a long black hair on it. Angie gathered the lettuce, tomato and unexpected accompaniment up into a serviette and tried not to think about it as she bit into her sandwich.

  Angie was curious to know why Selina had been in Malaga by herself. Had she travelled alone? Had she and Zander split up? But she couldn’t quite bring herself to ask. She didn’t want to talk about him with her. It might have all happened twenty years ago but she had never quite healed from their joint deception – the two people she had loved most in the world: her first love and her first friend.

  They split the bill and set off back to the hotel. A fax was waiting for them from Manuel. A taxi had been ordered to pick them up at nine a.m. from the hotel to take them to the consulate in Malaga. They would be issued with emergency passports after the ship had faxed over copies of their British passports, then they could book their flights out. Manuel said he had been in touch with a Mr Gilbert Silverton on board who had sent details of possible flights they could take. The nine p.m. one to Barcelona looked the best option. From there a plane would take them to Dubrovnik the following morning. The Figurehead rep would be in touch with them there and tell them what to do next. There was a number
to call when they landed.

  Neither of the women was tired. Angie had a bath to try and knock herself out but it only served to make her feel hot and sticky and so she emptied the water out and had a shower. The nightdress she had bought in the Chinese shop was frumpiness itself though she consoled herself that at least Selina’s was worse. It was huge and hung down to the floor and beyond. She would need a pair of bridesmaids to lift it for her.

  ‘Don’t we look a pair of berks,’ said Selina with her perfect cut-glass accent, honed through years of elocution lessons. Angie almost giggled but stifled it. She switched on the TV but there was only news, sports and a film showing, all in Spanish. There was, however, an English gardening programme with Alan Titchmarsh. His voice had been dubbed over with a very macho kick-ass Latino replacement. He sounded like Steven Seagal crossed with Julio Iglesias. Angie clicked the TV back off and climbed into the double bed, as near to the edge as she could comfortably fit. There was nothing else to do but sleep.

  ‘Nothing else to do but sleep is there?’ said Selina, clicking off the light.

  Chapter 10

  At two o’clock, Angie awoke with a migraine screwing into her left temple. She felt her way into the bathroom, soaked the edge of a towel in cold water and pressed it onto the point of pain. It did very little to relieve it.

  ‘You okay?’ called Selina.

  ‘Yep,’ replied Angie, her voice carrying an echo as her head was now over the toilet bowl. The contents of her stomach were rising. And the more she thought about that hair on her salad, the quicker they made a bid for freedom.

  Angie’s stomach muscles were aching by the time she had thrown up until she could do so no more. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Selina there with two tablets and a bottle of water in her hand.

  ‘I went down to reception. I don’t know what these are but I did a really good impression of a vomiting human being with a sore head so I don’t think they’re laxatives.’

  ‘You went down in that?’ replied Angie nodding at the nightie.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ replied Selina, sounding exactly like Margo from The Good Life. ‘I slipped my new dress on.’

  Angie reached for the tablets and the water.

  ‘Still get migraines then?’ Selina said, handing them over.

  You should have been in my head the day I heard about you and Zander snogging. The one I had then was an absolute belter.

  ‘Yes.’

  Selina held her arm out to help Angie up. Angie ignored it.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ sniffed Selina, obviously insulted. ‘Only trying to help. Hope you sleep okay.’

  She had her back turned when Angie climbed into bed, her head throbbing as if there was someone in there trying to chip his way out with a pickaxe. She closed her eyes and waited for the thrum to subside, it usually did when she had vomited. Classic migraines. No dramatic flashing lights, just pain and sickness. And sometimes a very strange euphoria that visited the morning after, though Angie doubted she would be feeling that.

  DAY FIVE

  Chapter 11

  Angie awoke to the sound of the toilet flushing. She opened her eyes slowly, expecting the headache to realise she was awake and the pain to pounce on her, but it didn’t. Amazingly there wasn’t even a niggle in her temple. Whatever those tablets were, they’d done the trick. She couldn’t even remember saying thank you to Selina for them either. Not that they made up for nicking the love of her life.

  Selina’s new dress was hideous. It was as voluminous as a circus tent and made of a fabric with a bright yellow flower print.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say, but this is possibly the most comfortable thing I have ever worn.’ She twirled around and the dress lifted into a full circle and showed off her new equally horrible big pants. ‘I’d best not do any pirouettes or stand above an air grate,’ she said, studying her reflection in the mirror. ‘God, I look awful without make-up. I wish I’d bought some from the Chinese Tardis. Do you have any? And a brush?’

  Angie pulled her handbag towards her. ‘All I’ve got is this.’ She handed over her lipstick.

  ‘It’ll do,’ said Selina making a grab for it. She painted it on and stood back. ‘Christ, it’s dark. I look like I’ve had a heart attack.’

  ‘It doesn’t come off either. You’re stuck with it,’ said Angie, stifling a giggle. That colour did not suit Selina at all.

  ‘Selina took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. ‘Oh well,’ she said. ‘Talking of well, do you feel better?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ It came out more stiffly than Angie intended, but she didn’t see the need to apologise for that.

  ‘Well, we have an hour until the taxi arrives. I’m going for some breakfast. I’ll meet you down there, shall I?’ said Selina.

  Could she tell that I don’t want her to wait for me? thought Angie. Probably. And she didn’t care if it was obvious.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there in a bit.’

  ‘Okay.’ And with that Selina was out of the door.

  Angie washed her face and sprayed herself with the antiperspirant, then went into an immediate coughing fit. What the hell sort of scent was that? Mustard gas? She too wished she had bought some make-up but her eyelashes were naturally thick and lush and her dark colouring and generous lips suited the purple-red lipstick which looked such a bugger on blonde Selina. She picked up a pair of pants and her eyes sprang open in surprise. They were tiny. They belonged on a Mothercare shelf. No WAY would they fit her. How had that happened? They had looked the right size on the hanger. She attempted to put them on anyway and found they were incredibly stretchy. In fact, at full extension they could have fitted yesterday’s portly taxi driver. She slid her leg into the holes and pulled them up and carried on yanking them up until they reached her neck. She didn’t know what the material was but boy, she wished her skin was made of it. Elasticity that good would have been a fabulous asset.

  Her new blue dress was also too baggy but it was very cool and comfortable and what she was going to need if the weather was as hot today as it had been yesterday. She used her fingers as a comb through her hair and fastened it back with her bobble then went down to where she supposed the breakfast hall was. She had nothing in her stomach and was craving carbs.

  Selina had helped herself to toast, buns, orange juice and coffee from the buffet table.

  ‘I’ve tried to ring Zan— the ship, but there’s no signal,’ said Selina. ‘They’ll be too far out at sea.’

  So they are still together, thought Angie, but she’s embarrassed to say his name. She must still feel bad about stealing him away. Good.

  ‘Why were you in Malaga by yourself?’ she dared to ask.

  ‘We’ve been there loads of times,’ Selina explained, her eyes down whilst she buttered her toast. ‘Zander’s bored by it. I thought I’d get off and give my legs a good stretch. More fool me.’

  ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ said Angie, suddenly gripped by panic as a picture of the ship sailing away from the dock flashed again into her mind. She didn’t want to cry in front of Selina but she felt her eyes welling up with water.

  ‘We have to keep calm,’ replied Selina, raising her palms, fingers spread.

  ‘You’ve changed,’ humphed Angie. The old Selina was hyper and always running about shrieking.

  ‘I’m asthmatic these days and I haven’t got any medication on me,’ replied Selina. ‘I have to stay relaxed or I’ll be in trouble.’ She bit into her toast and chewed.

  Angie didn’t know what to say to that so she went over to the buffet table and filled a plate up with bread, butter and honey and took it back to the table to devour. She had just popped the last mouthful in when the lady receptionist on duty this morning waved to them from the doorway.

  ‘The taxi is here for you,’ she said in near-perfect English.

  ‘He’s early,’ said Selina, grabbing a couple of sealed packets of biscuits and stuffing them in her handbag.

&n
bsp; Quickly they went back up to the room to pack their few things and give their teeth a quick brush. Selina returned the phone charger, Angie paid the bill on her visa – ninety euros – and Selina paid the taxi to the consulate – eight euros. If the new Selina was like the old one, Angie had no worries about getting recompensed. Selina would have given money away rather than take it. Just a pity she wasn’t the same with boyfriends.

  They were about to get out of the taxi when Selina’s mobile rang. It was Manuel. Selina put it on speaker so Angie could hear what he was saying.

  ‘I wanted to wish you well,’ he said. ‘I have forwarded you the email address of the ship. Please liaise with them so they know what is happening. I have given the consulate my details and between us we will get you to Dubrovnik.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Selina. Her voice was quiet and sounded full of gratitude.

  Angie felt equally humbled by his kindness. ‘Thanks for not calling me a silly sod,’ she said. ‘Even though I am one. You’ve been very kind.’

  Manuel laughed. ‘I think that if it were my wife in your position, I would like her to be treated properly.’

  Angie gulped down a throatful of emotion. ‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘We’ve just arrived at the consulate.’

  ‘Feliz viaje.’

  The two women walked up the stairs and were met by a Spanish security guard.

  ‘Pasaportes emergencia?’ asked Angie.

  ‘Si.’

  Well, at least they were in the right place.

  They had to surrender their phones and walk through a metal detector frame then the guard directed them into a room filled with chairs. They approached the long glass-enclosed counter where a pretty young lady with dark curly hair smiled at them. There was a plaque at the window bearing her name – Luisa Diaz.