Ben laughed. “Rough and cheap but totally safe, Mary, I assure you. Now I hope you’re both okay with a beer. Just the one, of course then we’ll get back to it.”
They sat outside in the afternoon sun and enjoyed the ice cold Portuguese beer.
“It’s still cute though, isn’t it? The bar, I mean,” Lillian said, smiling and nodding her head to the run down building. “Certainly not somewhere we could go back home, I don’t think.”
“Hell no. I wouldn’t dare go in a place like this back home,” Mary said as she supped on the cool beer. “And the beer isn’t as good back home either. How does a place like this stay open? It looks ready to fall down,” Mary asked.
“I have no idea,” Ben replied. “This area depends a lot on the tourist trade, mainly from Europe. If times get tough in other countries, then folk tend to stop coming for their breaks here. Not many locals can afford to go drinking like tourists do so places like this start to struggle. They always keep trying though. They’re tough folk.”
They finished their drinks and climbed back aboard the bicycles. Ben lead them down more small winding lanes where they stopped to pick the occasional fruit hanging over the road. Mary and Lillian were soon confident as they rode two abreast behind Ben, giggling and chatting as they went. Ben would look over his shoulder occasionally to catch them both looking at him and smiling.
He liked the look of interest on Mary’s face as he drove ahead of them, noting her staring at his ass a few times. Maybe a fling was on the books after all, and if her mother was right, a holiday fling might be just what she needed. Ben was up for that, but he wasn’t looking for a long term relationship. Those got messy, as he well knew.
Stopping under a carob tree, Ben pointed at the long, dark-brown bean-like pods hanging down and dropping all over the road.
“There you go; all the chocolate you can eat,” he declared.
Lillian climbed off her bike and foraged on the ground. “Are you sure, Ben?”
“Perfectly sure. Not as good as real chocolate of course, but always good to know, right?” Before he had time to finish, Lillian was spitting bits of wood onto the ground.
“Let me tell you, whatever this stuff is, it sure ain’t no chocolate!” Lillian said as she finished spitting and brandished a piece of carob at him.
“Well no, you’re absolutely right there. What you are eating at the moment is a piece of branch. The carobs are those brown pod-like things,” Ben replied laughing.
“Oh good grief, Mom!’” Mary sighed reaching down for one of the carob pods.
“Well, it all looks the same to me,” Lillian said, she too picking up a pod and biting into it the tough outer skin. “Hmm! To be honest, the twig didn’t taste much worse than the pod I reckon.”
“You might well be right there, Lillian. Is why I just pointed them out to you and didn’t eat any myself,” Ben said laughing harder.
“Honestly, Ben, this doesn’t much taste like chocolate. A Tootsie Roll, maybe, but not as I expected.” Mary sighed as she too dropped the carob pod back on the ground. “I’m going back to the Super Mercado thing tomorrow, I know I saw a Kit-Kat there.
“I’m no expert on chocolate, I must admit. I thought you might like a go, most people do. You need to get them when they still have the sticky, juicy insides rather than the seeds. Shall we carry on?” Ben said as he climbed back on his bicycle, trying not to think of other things that were best when they were sticky and juicy. He turned to see Mary giving him a rather knowing look for such a sheltered mountain girl.
“I suppose it’s all an experience, isn’t it?” Mary asked with a wicked smile as they pushed off once more. At least she was able to talk and pedal now. “We have trees in America, I think they’re beech trees. Taste like root beer when you chew at the bark. If you have root beer in these parts of the world. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“I’ve had it before, an interesting flavour. You’re doing really well, you know?” He gave her a tip of his head as he pedalled on.
Mary looked back to see her mother struggling but valiantly continuing. Lillian wasn’t obese but she was bordering on fluffy, and at her age the extra poundage could be problematic. Mary knew the bikes would ultimately be good for them both so decided she’d encourage her mother to keep it up rather than make fun of her efforts.
They continued on their journey down the quiet country lanes, which took them in a large loop back to the house. Tired but happy, they parked the bikes beside the barn and the three went inside.
“Over two hundred years old this barn,” Ben said as they trooped in through the large glass doors.
“Well, the paintwork certainly looks it, I can tell you that much,” Lillian replied. “But it sure is beautiful, chipping paint or no. Could I offer you a drink, Ben? We chose some wine but I’ve no clue if it’s any good or not.”
“In Portugal, there are wines you like and wines you don’t, but cheap or expensive there are no bad ones. Yes, I’d love a glass thanks,” Ben responded, his gaze on Mary, her walk enticing him as she headed down the steps to get glasses.
They took their drinks out onto the garden patio and enjoyed the silence for a moment. Then a dog barked and the sound of clopping hooves filled the air.
“Is that a horse and cart?” Mary asked, turning to look through the windows in the kitchen. All she caught was the end of a wooden wagon.
“Yes, he comes through twice a day. There’s another one that has bells on the horse. You’ll hear him later.” Ben took a sip of his drink and smiled at Mary.
“Wow. I had no idea they still used those anywhere.” Mary looked contemplative for a moment.
“I guess they think if it’s not broke, don’t fix it. It’s probably cheaper than owning a car.”
“I suppose so. How lovely, doing things the old way. I quite like that.” Mary beamed at her mother and Ben felt his heart catch. She really was beautiful.
Ben finished his wine and stood up. He didn’t want to wear out his welcome.
“Thanks for a great day. It’s been fun to be back on the bike again and you two are great company.”
“Now don’t you go disappearing, Ben. We’re going to cook tonight and we’ll need you to identify half the food we bought,” Lillian said, standing up herself. “Us country gals know how to light a grill but I’ll be darned if I know what half that meat is. So we’ll kick it off around seven? Okay with you?”
“Seven will be just fine. I’ll look forward to it,” Ben said as he went through the gate. He made his way back to his own little apartment and smiled. He knew he’d made new friends at least. That Lillian was a charmer, but her daughter... Well Mary was a pure, unadulterated stunner in need of a good time. And Ben wouldn’t mind giving it to her.
Chapter Six
Ben arrived at the gate at seven to find Lillian hunched over the small charcoal grill, blowing with all her might to get it lit. She turned as she heard him enter the patio.
“It’s going to be a tad longer than I had planned, I’m afraid. Can’t get this darn charcoal to catch to save my life.” Lillian looked rather bewildered as she glanced down at the lumps of apparent charred wood that served as charcoal in Portugal. It was vastly different from the square briquettes she was used to at home.
Ben made a hasty retreat back through the gate leaving Lillian confused as she went back to blowing on the paper and charcoal.
“Didn’t I just hear Ben, Mom?” Mary asked as she came onto the patio.
“Seems seeing my big butt sticking in the air over this grill scared the boy off,” Lillian laughed.
Ben returned a couple of minutes later with a box of charcoal lighters.
“Here, let me get that going for you. We have a little trick over here we use for lighting barbecues. Won’t take too long with these.” He eased her to one side and rebuilt the charcoal. The lighters was a pack of what looked like white Styrofoam, and if the smell was anything to go by, soaked in something flammable. The
charcoal sprang to life quickly when Ben held a match to it.
“We’ll give it half an hour and it’ll be good to go,” Ben sat himself at the table. Mary smiled at him as he sat down and proffered him a glass.
“What’ll it be Ben? Beer or wine?”
“A beer will be just fine, thank you, Mary,” Ben replied, smiling at her as she passed him a bottle.
“Best you open me one too, baby girl. I’m all out of breath trying to get this thing going,” Lillian said as she joined them at the table. “Those lighters are miracle workers but they stink to high heaven, what’s in them?” Lillian took the glass of beer her daughter offered and swallowed a sip. With a face that said it wasn’t bad she settled into her chair and looked at Ben expectantly.
“Oh. Well. I think it’s a chemical you use in America to tranquilize horses.” Ben named the chemical and both ladies looked at him in astonishment.
“But people use that to get high back home!” Mary exclaimed. “Is it safe to use with food?”
“Perfectly safe. Just imagine going home and telling people what they use to snort up their noses is used for lighting fires on this side of the pond.” Ben sounded amused and happy to see the women laughing with him.
“I just can’t wrap my head around it.” Mary sipped at a glass of wine and looked stunned. Then she stood and disappeared into the barn once more, coming back with several plates expertly cradled in her arms.
“I got us olives and cheese, and these crackers whatever they might be, and some of that fancy bread we had at the beach. Oh, and some of these. Not totally sure if they’re big olives or old grapes but I thought we’d give ‘em a try,” Mary said as she laid out plates of assorted foods on the garden table.
“Ah, those are dates, Mary. They might take some getting used to. It all looks wonderful thank you,” Ben replied, helping himself to an olive.
“Dates? Right. Well, don’t get finer than a bowl of dates at a garden party, right, Ben?” Lillian laughed at her overplayed country accent. Sometimes she could be wonderfully self-deprecating.
“So, you’re going to have to explain to me, how did two young women from the mountains of West Virginia end up in Portugal?” Ben asked.
“Well, should I tell him or should you, Mary? It’s a vacation, Ben. Not quite how it was intended or planned, but a vacation nonetheless. A mom and her daughter having the trip of a lifetime sort of thing,” Lillian answered looking at Mary to fill the gaps.
“I was dumped at the altar, is what she’s trying to oh so delicately step around. There, I said it. I know if I don’t she will! So yes, the man I was supposed to marry ran off with a stripper and left me with tickets for this trip…” Mary stammered, getting up from the table and running into the house sobbing.
“Oh dear!” Ben said “I’m really sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to pry. Shall I go and apologise?”
“She’ll calm down, just let her get over it. The sting is still a bit fresh, that’s all. Help yourself to a date,” Lillian said, rising from her chair. “I’ll go have a word with her, you get yourself another beer.”
Lillian went into the house after leaving Ben staring after her in confusion. Should he stay or should he go? He really didn’t need any drama in his life, but he felt really sad for Mary. Perhaps he could cheer her up at least. Assuming she ever came back out again. He helped himself to some olives and cheese and was just taking a sip of his beer when they both returned from the barn.
“Oh, Ben, I’m so sorry about that. I really don’t know what came over me,” Mary said as she and Lillian re-joined him at the table. He saw her eyes were rimmed in red and her nose was pink and wished he could take away her sadness.
“You have nothing to apologise for. I’m sorry for asking in the first place and bringing it all up for you,” Ben replied, feeling sheepish.
“How in the heck were you going to know?” Lillian asked with a soft smile of understanding. “Anyhow, them’s the facts. It seemed silly to just throw away the tickets. Truth is, the guy was a no good waste of oxygen. Best thing he ever did for her was walk away, I reckon. Anyhow, more to the point, how’s a handsome English guy end up in a place like this?”
Ben sighed and reached for his glass of beer to fill his hands. Yes, he would tell them how he ended up here but it too might be painful to go through. Lillian and Mary were hanging on his every word as he described his army career and marriage. Mary popped up occasionally to grill some meat and a selection of vegetables as he talked and Lillian asked questions.
The ladies gave the appropriate sounds of “aww” in the happy moments and the sad and he managed to get through his glass of beer as he spoke. Mary wordlessly handed him another and he continued the story.
They were all chewing over a strawberry tart that Mary had whipped up when Ben got to the real reason he was in Portugal; the real reason he was by himself in a place where he wasn’t bothered by people knocking on his door constantly to ask if he was alright.
Fate had stepped into the wonderful life he and his wife were making together, and brought it crashing down by tragically taking her away. His choosing to move to the peace and tranquillity of the Algarve and his casual profession as a travel writer was only a reflection of the peace he needed to get through life without her after she passed away.
The ladies were fascinated, both by his story and of course the accent in which he delivered it. He sat quietly under the large umbrella that had protected them all and realized the sun had long since gone down. Hours had passed without any of them really noticing.
Lillian attempted to stand up and make her way to the bathroom but ended up plonking herself back in her seat. She looked confused as she struggled to stand once more.
“Oh my, I didn’t think foreign wine would be quite as strong. I think I might be just a little bit tipsy,” she said with a girlish giggle.
“Perhaps I should help you to bed, Mom. I’ll sit and chat with Ben some more if you don’t mind,” Mary said as she stood up to help Lillian to her feet.
“I don’t mind at all, baby girl. Thank you for a lovely evening, Ben. Until I see you again.” Lillian gave an airy wave of her hand as she mimicked a queenly accent as Mary led her into the house.
Mary gently guided her mother to the bathroom and her bed. Ben sat patiently, playing with his half empty beer bottle. Mary seemed interested in him, but was he as interested in her? They’d lived such different lives and he failed to mention, during his story telling, just how much effort his wife had made to get used to his need for extreme organisation. Ben needed things to be just right and in the right place. No time or patience for chaos and disorder.
Could Mary handle his obsession of straightening picture-frames and wobbly tables, or taking his own table clips to restaurants? Would she even be around long enough to notice?
As Ben sat, pondering his inadequacies, Mary returned and slid into the chair alongside him. She put a hand on his shoulder.
“I can’t thank you enough for your kindness, Ben. We’ve had a wonderful time so far, thanks to you,” Mary said with a grateful smile, her eyes telling him she had for more on her mind than gratitude.
Ben gazed into her eyes as she looked at him smiling. He was totally swallowed up in her beauty and could barely stammer a reply. His normally smooth stockpile of responses to the occasional sultry neighbour had flown straight out of his mind.
“Well, erm, it was nothing really Mary, nothing at all. Was a pleasure for me too really,” he murmured, flustered. He really wanted to kiss her and drag her to his bed but he thought it might be too much for her to handle.
Mary giggled as she poured herself a glass of wine and handed Ben a fresh bottle of beer.
“We had no idea where we were or what to do once we got here. We were just determined to get here is all. You’ve made it special. We’re going to have a wonderful time thanks to you, and we really appreciate it,” Mary said as she raised her glass to him.
Ben raised his bottle back an
d leaned forward to clink her glass in a toast. As he did, he saw Mary’s beautiful face in front of him. Her smiling lips so close. So very, very close. He leaned closer and Mary did too.
Ben reached out to grasp her chin, smoothing a finger down her cheek before doing so. She looked at him, her longing for his touch more than evident as her lips parted and he saw her eyes go wide. His touch made her shiver and he knew he had a chance with her. Their lips were just an inch apart and their eyes fixed on each other as their glasses clinked when they moved to seal the moment.
With a clunk and a click, they were plunged into total darkness as the power went out.
Ben leaned back in his chair and sighed deeply. Mary gave a slight yelp. From inside the barn, Lillian let out a piercing scream.
Mary and Ben instantly jumped up and headed to the barn door.
“Mom? Mom? What’s wrong?” Mary yelled, stumbling into the barn.
“The power’s gone, I’ll go sort it out, won’t take a minute,” Ben said turning to head to the apartment office. He made his way through the dark carpark to his apartment to retrieve his keys and a light, then back to the office. There he entered the building and reset the breaker. Light was restored. After locking up the office, Ben made his way back to Mary and the barn, which was now fully lit up.
“It was a snake! I know it! Or one of those lizard things!” Lillian was yelling. “Ran straight across my face, the evil little thing! Scared the life out of me. And no lights Mary! I could have died twice when I tried to find the light. Straight across my face it went.”
Mary shivered in her chaste-looking nightgown.
Ben stood listening to the tirade in shock and then smiled, trying his best not to laugh at Lillian’s discomfort. It was too funny!
“No snakes around here, Lillian. Any that might be around would be well out in the gardens and orchards. Maybe it was one of those small geckos. They do like these old houses,” Ben said with patience, hoping to alleviate her worries.
“So where did all the lights go, Ben?” Mary asked, now happy her mother wasn’t being attacked by a hungry python.
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