“It is said, although it is dormant it could erupt at any time again.”
“Charming,” said Greg. “That will give us something to worry about when we’re trying to get to sleep, Annabelle.”
“So what did you do today?” asked Paul, as he handed a hot dog each to his son and daughter, a vodka and tonic to Kate, bacardi and coke to Cheryl and beers for Greg and himself.
“Where’s Sonya and Evan anyway?”
“We haven’t seen them since they went into lunch earlier,” said Greg, not looking at his wife as he spoke. “We weren’t very hungry and probably Sonya has taken Evan straight back to the bedroom for a nap, without coming to tell us.”
“Yes, he’s still a bit young for going all day without a break like Jack is,” said Cheryl. “Although I did notice Jack was nodding a bit on our way back here.”
“So, did you have a walk down to the sea front, or did you do something different this morning?”, Paul persisted.
“Oh, we took Evan on the little train that chugs around Costa Adeje,” Greg replied. “You should take Annabelle and Jack on it one day.”
“We’re thinking of going to Loro Parque tomorrow, Greg. I know, why don’t you join us, we could easily squeeze you all into the Espace?”
“Perhaps Sonya and Evan would like to go, Paul,” said Greg quickly, answering for Kate as well, who he knew wouldn’t want to be anybody’s company, until she had got over what had happened today. “We’re not sight seers, Kate and I, we tend to just chill out on holiday.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, I always think when you go to somewhere new, you should have a look at the things around you,” said Paul. “But we’ll ask Sonya when we see her this evening, I’m sure Evan would love to see all the penguins and things.”
“Then we’ll sit by the pool and top up our tans, eh, Kate?” said Greg, smiling ruefully at his wife, in the hope that she had decided not to pack her bags and take an early flight back to Manchester. Her response was a smile of calm acceptance. She and Greg had weathered many things.
Chapter Ten.
“The damn Manchester plane is going to be two hours late,” said Kath, as she managed to shoulder her way through the heaving crowds of the airport concourse, to get to Lucy, who was standing in the queue with her departing clients at check-in.
“Oh, so what will we do with the Gatwick arrivals, take them back to the hotel and then come back for the Manchester arrivals later?”
“I suppose we’ll have to, but what a nuisance for everybody. This means that the Manchester departures are going to be herded like cattle into the departure lounge, to make way for all the other travel companies that will be bringing their clients here.”
“There’s not a lot more that we can do though,” said Lucy. “When is it that we provide means for a drink or a bite to eat under our delayed flight rule?”
“Well, it’s six hours before they’re entitled to a free meal, so we won’t have to worry about setting that up, but possibly we may be liable to providing drinks. I’ll have to speak to Head Office about that.”
“So, do you want me to go back to the hotel or stay and wait for the Manchester flight?” asked Lucy, thankful that she had managed to get Jenni’s money on her way there.
“I’ll take the Gatwick clients and settle them in and I’ll warn Reception that the other clients have been delayed. It was something to do with an electrical fault that was found on the plane at Manchester airport, but don’t tell the clients that, if you’re asked about the delay. We don’t want them panicking. Tell them it was adverse weather conditions.”
“Okay. So will Ramon bring his coach back here later or will someone else come to collect us? Once you take the nine from the Gatwick flight, I’ll only have five to meet myself.”
“I’ll speak to Head Office, Lucy. Ramon will probably be out of time anyway. If we can’t do a coach share, I’ll probably send down a couple of taxis.”
“Do you know if the flight has actually left Manchester, Kath?”, asked Lucy, suddenly feeling nervous at the thought of the plane being very late and not the two hours stated, then she would be left to handle really irate passengers.
“I’ve been told that the ‘plane has definitely left,” Kath assured her. “Don’t worry. If it was any different I would be one to stay behind and take the flack, not you.”
“But you will ring me on the mobile if there are any changes, won’t you? I have a birthday celebration to announce at seven and of course our new guests will be tired and need settling in.”
“I’ll ring you Lucy, I promise. Now after I’ve met the Gatwick flight and ticked them off the list for coaching, I’ll come back and check with you who’s left on the list. Now, do you want me to speak to our clients about the delay or do you want to?”
***
Sonya helped her son scrape out his ice cream bowl with a little spoon, still reeling from the revelation that her brother, Andy, was possibly gay. The man they had met on the promenade had been asking if Andy batted for the other side? Sonya knew that he hadn’t been talking about cricket and she wondered where her father had got that information, to have been discussing it with the man?
The last time she had seen Andy, was when he passed her on the stairs with a loaded holdall. It hadn’t bothered her that her brother had decided to leave home. He had always been a pain in the neck, resentful of any discipline, argumentative with their parents, thought that he always knew best and whilst he and she were growing up together, they had fought like cat and dog most of the time. She had agreed with her mother on the drug embargo, thinking that Andy was foolish to let it get a grip on his life. At the time, she had thought that he’d see some sense and return to make it up with them all one day, but it hadn’t happened and she for one had been quite relieved. So, it seemed that there was now another twist in the tale of her brother’s lifestyle. Why couldn’t he just be normal, like other brother’s were?
***
“Can I be with you again tonight, Sonya?”, asked Juan, who had made it his business to come over to the table, ostensibly to ask could he get more drinks for Evan and herself.
“Sorry,” Sonya answered casually. “It’s my turn to look after my son tonight.”
“Oh,” he said, looking extremely disappointed. “Then will you be free tomorrow night? I enjoyed our time together, Sonya, didn’t you?”
“Of course and I’m sure we will tomorrow. May I have another glass of cola and a lemonade for Evan, please?”
She smiled to herself, as Juan walked away briskly to get her drinks order. Keep him eager, she thought to herself. He’d been good, very good. He had done things to her body that made her want to scream with primeval longing, but she’d had to bite her pillow in case her parents, next door, had wondered what was going on. He was better than that chap she had met in Cyprus last year, though then her parents had been more agreeable to her seeing him as he was a Dutch accountant. But their letters to each other had fizzled out once they’d been back in their respective countries for a few weeks and she didn’t get an invitation to visit him in Amsterdam.
She sighed, then got Evan out of his highchair, having decided she would take him back to their room for a nap, leaving her parents to have some time to sort things out.
***
“So, how come that Stan knew about Andrew and I didn’t?”, asked Kate in a resentful tone, as she stood later in front of the bedroom wardrobe, deciding what to take out to wear for that evening.
“Oh, he caught me on a low ebb one night, when you and Brenda were playing Bingo,” Greg replied, in an even voice from the chair by the window, not wanting to start a row if he could help it. “We were sat at the bar and he was moaning to me about one of his kids, who had been in trouble with the police over something and nothing. I just happened to say that our son had left home and was living with one of his mates, who was gay, at his flat in London. At that time I was presuming that Andy was batting for the other side.”
“And
you didn’t bother saying anything to me,” Kate continued, tying her dressing gown around herself as she prepared to go to the bathroom for a shower.
“Well, what was the point, Kate? You’d virtually thrown him out for dabbling with cannabis. I thought if I told you anything else, you’d think even less of him then.”
“I didn’t throw him out, if you remember. It was Andrew who didn’t want to live by our rules. He’s had five years to come back and make amends, but he couldn’t even send a Christmas card.”
“That’s because both of you are so alike. Both of you see everything in black and white. Anyway, he’s a young man now, off our hands as it were and he doesn’t feel in the need of mothering.”
“So, is he gay?” asked Kate, taking a deep breath after she had spoken, knowing whatever answer she got was going to turn her world upside down anyway. She had learned to live without her son in her life, but meeting Stan that day was bound to starting changing things.
“I can’t say to be honest,” Greg answered, going rather pink as he said it, because he and his wife tended to stay clear of intimate conversation. “He does work for a firm that sells hairdressing products to major salons, but that doesn’t make him effeminate. It was his mate that had a contact in the trade which landed him the job.”
“So he doesn’t look gay, doesn’t act gay, hasn’t said he’s gay? Then I’ll see for myself when we get back home. You can invite him to stay for the weekend.”
***
Jenni hummed to herself, whilst she stood under the shower getting ready for the evening. She’d had a lovely time with Miguel and was feeling contented and happy with her thoughts of him. He would make someone a loyal and loving husband one day, but she knew it wouldn’t be her that he chose for a wife. Miguel was unattainable as far as she was concerned. Like her wanting to fly to the moon or sailing around the world in a catamaran, as their worlds were so far apart. But, they still could have a bit more time in each others company, her flight home on Tuesday was still a few days away. Meantime she would savour the thought that he was hers for now.
***
“Put a bit of eye shadow on, our Jean,” said Doreen encouragingly, to her sister as she watched from the door of the bathroom, where Jean was applying a rose coloured lipstick to her rather thin lips.
“You can use some from that little pot of mine, it’s a pearlised lavender colour. Go on, try it, just this once to brighten up your face a bit.”
“Try my mascara too,” said Milly, who had come to look over Doreen’s shoulder. “Now you’ve got a modern hairdo, you should use a bit more makeup.”
“Oh, go away you two daft sods,” said Jean grinning at them happily. “Leave me alone and let me get on with it.”
She came out of the bathroom a little later, dressed in a pink crepe long sleeved blouse and a black knee length five gored skirt, wearing a pair of black patent leather shoes with a two inch heel.
“There now, will I do?” she asked looking very pleased with herself. “Am I dressed to your liking?”
“Belle of the ball,” said Doreen, happy to see that her sister was making an effort for once. “You look a proper birthday girl.”
***
“This isn’t a good start to our honeymoon, is it?” said the girl with a Brummie accent, as she climbed into the mini bus, that Kath had sent to the airport to pick up Lucy and the Manchester passengers.
“I know, Babes, I’m sorry, Babes, but there was nothing I could do about the delay,” said the young man, who had handed their luggage to the driver and was struggling with his new wife’s vanity case and a large black canvas shoe bag.
“I’ve been up since four this morning, Gary and I didn’t sleep a wink at the airport hotel and then our flight got delayed as well.”
“I know, Babes, I’m sorry, Babes, look just sit back and make yourself comfy and we’ll soon be at the hotel.”
“Well, I hope we haven’t missed lunch. I couldn’t eat that terrible breakfast that they gave us on the plane. You know I can’t eat bacon, I never eat bacon. Why didn’t you order me a veggy meal?”
“I’m sorry, Babes, I’m sorry. It’s just with all the excitement I forgot to order you a veggy meal. I promise you’ll have a veggy meal when we fly back again.”
Lucy stood outside the bus while the passengers made themselves comfortable. The young couple were a Mr. and Mrs. Greenfield and climbing up behind them was a Mr. and Mrs. Keegan and their teenage daughter, Joanne.
Lucy took a few deep breaths, painted a smile on her face, then got up to sit beside the driver. She’d had enough of today, what with the outgoing passengers moaning and threatening letters to head office demanding compensation, as they were only given drinks and not food whilst they waited; hanging around the airport waiting for these passengers to arrive and when they did eventually get to the arrivals lounge, had to wait for ages at the carousel, as there had been some sort of holdup. She didn’t want to have to listen to a whingeing young woman who was dressed up in a white linen trouser suit, with her auburn coloured hair piled up in barrel curls, as if she was going on a QE2 cruise and not here to relax by the pool side. All she wanted was a bit of peace and a vodka and tonic as soon as she could.
She turned to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Keegan. He was a pleasant looking man in his forties, with a mid brown short back and sides hair cut, dressed in a dark blue jacket over an open neck shirt and blue jeans. His wife was small and rounded with short blonde spikey hair, dressed in a white gypsy top and black trousers. Their daughter, who was now listening to her tape machine through her head phones, wore her fair hair in a pony tail and was dressed in a denim jacket with a long pink canvas skirt.
“Not long to our hotel,” said Lucy, as the driver set off from the airport. “We will have missed lunch, but the pool side bar serves snacks until the restaurant opens at six thirty. When we get to the hotel, I’ll check you all in and then tomorrow morning at ten thirty, we’ll have our Welcome meeting with the other guests who came in earlier from Gatwick. There’s a Karaoke show tonight in the Sunlight Bar, if you’re not too tired to watch it. Perhaps one of you would like to sing for us, it’s usually a lot of fun.”
“I should think that me and Gary will be dead to the world by then,” chipped in Mrs. Greenfield. “This isn’t a very good start to our honeymoon is it? I’m going to get my husband here to write to your company and complain.”
“It wasn’t Periquito Travel’s fault that the ‘plane was delayed, Tracy,” said her husband tenderly.
“It was the airline company. Anyway, we’re here now, let’s relax and enjoy ourselves.”
“Well, the weather seems to be getting better,” said Lucy, determined to be cheerful. “We’ve had one or two overcast days, but as you can see the sun is shining today.”
“I should hope so,” said the new bride. “We came all the way to Tenerife to find better weather. It rained yesterday, when we came out of the Register Office and the train on my frock got all mucky. I’m going to have to get it dry cleaned when I get home, ‘cos I’m going to sell it in the Loot magazine.”
“Oh, Tracy, I thought you were going to keep it as a symbol of our commitment to each other,” said Gary.
Lucy put her eyes to heaven and swivelled back in her seat again.
***
“Can I sing at the Karaoke tonight, Daddy?”, asked Annabelle, after she had seen the poster advertising the night’s entertainment, as the family passed by on their way to the restaurant.
“I think it’s for grownups, Darling,” said Paul. “Anyway, we’re not staying up late this evening because you and Jack will be very tired after such a long day.”
Annabelle looked at her father in puzzlement. “The day isn’t any longer than usual, Daddy. We got up at eight o’ clock and we’ll probably go to bed at eleven. How can that be a long day?”
Cheryl smiled to herself as she listened, get out of that one, Paul, she thought.
“I meant that we’ve done a lot toda
y and I think that by the time the Karaoke is on at ten o’ clock, you and Jack will be tired and need to go to bed.”
“Jack will be tired, I won’t be,” his daughter declared. “So I think Mummy can take Jack to bed and you can listen to me singing. I shall sing “ Like a Virgin” by Madonna. My friends at school all say I sing it beautifully.”
“No, you won’t be singing at the Karaoke, Darling,” said Paul, hastily. “We will have to get up early tomorrow, because we said we will go to Loro Parque. I’m sure you’d rather go there instead.”
***
“What an ill matched couple, Lucy thought, as she said goodbye to the minibus driver and shepherded the guests into Reception. There was the new bride tiptoeing along on her white patent leather high heeled shoes, while her new husband scurried behind her carrying two red suitcases, with a matching vanity case and the shoe bag under his arms.
He was sweating profusely, his lank brown hair slicked against his forehead, his black rimmed square shaped glasses perched on the end of his thin bony nose, while his white open necked shirt clung to his rather slim body and the bottoms of his dark blue denims flapped around his ankles. His wife was at least two inches taller than him, pretty in a doll like sort of way, but Lucy felt in her heart of hearts that the marriage was going to be doomed, if the young chap didn’t start putting his foot down with her.
“Passports, Gary,” his wife said, after she had tottered up to the reception counter, where Maria was was waiting to greet the arrivals.
“Here they are, my pet,” he gasped, after he had put the luggage down and took the passports out of one of the side pockets.
“Mr. and Mrs. Greenfield,” announced his wife to Maria with a flourish. “I hope you have a nice room for us. We’re newly weds, you know.”
“Si, Senora,” Maria replied. “Congratulations on your marriage, we have allocated room 203.”
“I hope it is a nice view,” the young woman continued. “ Me and Gary want to have a romantic view of sunsets over the horizon.”
Clouds Below the Mountains Page 19