Clouds Below the Mountains

by Vivienne Dockerty

  ***

  Cindy and Phil Hatfield were not talking to one another. She being annoyed that the first thing her husband had done, after being shown to the mini coach was to telephone his ex-wife on his mobile and ask if Sukie, his little daughter had gone to school that day? She had been sick apparently, probably because Phil had stuffed her with sweets when he had gone round to read a bedtime story to the little girl, which he did most nights on his way home from work. Well, she felt sorry that Sukie had been sick, nobody liked to hear of a child suffering, but did he have to ‘phone as soon as he got off the plane? Surely she’d every right to tick him off and tell him that he could have waited and ‘phoned when they’d got to the hotel bedroom. He’d only just got his international signal ten minutes ago.

  Cindy hoped that this wasn’t going set the scene for their first ever foreign holiday, Phil had other kids as well that he might want to phone!”

  ***

  Vicky sat with her eight month old daughter on her knee, while her mother, Denise finished her cigarette outside the mini coach, before climbing aboard.

  “It’s hot out there, isn’t it?” she said to Vicky a few minutes later. “ That rep’ must be baking in her uniform. If I were her I’d take my jacket off. I hope it’s not too far to the hotel, Vicky, our Chantelle looks likely to drop off at any minute and we need to sort out our room, so she can have a proper sleep in a cot. I felt terrible for those passengers around us, when she set off screaming as we were landing. You should have thought to put a drop of juice in her bottle, like you did when we were taking off.”

  “I’d run out, Mum, I hadn’t realized how long the flight was and I’d only brought the two bottles with me, one with the orange and one with the milk.”

  “We should have thought to ask one of the air hostesses for a drop, but you know me, I don’t like flying and when I saw the seat belt sign come on, that was me finished ‘til we got down.”

  “Never mind, we’re here now and you don’t have to worry until we’re back here next week. I’m really looking forward to spending some time with the little one. It’s such a shame she has to go to nursery at home.”

  ***

  Lucy looked at her list again, after she had told the driver that they were ready to go.

  The mini coach didn’t have a microphone, so she had decided to give out Health and Safety leaflets and details of the Welcome meeting, then wait to make her announcements when they arrived outside the hotel.

  Behind her sat a rather stylish looking lady, wearing a white cotton short sleeved jacket, a brown and orange paisley patterned knee length dress, chestnut brown hair cut in a medium length bob and copper coloured strappy sandals adorning her feet. The lady was wearing Eternity perfume, that Lucy caught a whiff of now and again and had turned once or twice, being friendly, to say how much she liked the smell. But the guest avoided her movement, staring out of the window instead.

  Further back sat a couple in their sixties, a Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, according to her list. The man was grey haired, stockily built, a bit harassed looking, as his hazel coloured eyes were observing his surroundings anxiously. He was dressed in a blue check open necked shirt, black trousers and wore light blue canvas shoes on his feet. His wife looked gentle, though her round white face had a look of strain about her full lipped mouth; her straight grey hair was cut in a wedge to the neck style and she wore a navy blue top and navy patterned skirt. Her husband was pointing out things of interest, as the mini coach proceeded on its way and his wife was nodding pleasantly, as she looked out of the window with him.

  Across the aisle from Lucy sat Mr. and Mrs. Christian. She had short blonde hair, from a bottle, thought the rep’ cattily, an oval perfectly smooth face with a hint of tan makeup, navy blue tinted lashes that framed her pale blue eyes and orange lipstick on her attractive looking lips. She was wearing a vibrantly coloured peach and orange halter neck dress, with a cream lacey cardigan and on her feet she wore gold mules. He was dressed in a tan coloured short sleeved shirt and would you believe it, a tan silk cravat, beige lightweight trousers and his short reddish hair flopped across his brow. On his feet he wore cream socks and brown leather sandals. They held hands together, linked like lovers with entwined fingers. It looked quite sweet and Lucy thought that perhaps this was a second marriage.

  ***

  Mr. and Mrs. Hatfield looked as if they’d had a row. At least, she was sitting with her arms folded over the vanity case that sat upon her knee and kept averting her eyes through the window. He was playing with his mobile ‘phone, texting perhaps, thought Lucy, though it must be one of those brand new models, hers only made ‘phone calls.

  Mrs. Hatfield was pretty in a doll like way, middle twenties, small featured, dark complexion, with great big brown eyes that seemed too large for her face. Her curly black hair was shoulder length, she wore pink tailored trousers and an embellished white T’ shirt and on her feet were pink cork bottomed shoes with ribbon ties.

  He on the other hand, was nothing much to look at. He was medium height, wore his dark brown hair longer than most men, had a pointy nose and a stubbly chin and at the moment his brown eyes were half closed in tiredness or concentration. Lucy hoped that the couple were not a temperamental pair, as she didn’t want to be called on to act as referee.

  ***

  Finally, at the back of the coach was Mrs. Reilly, a medium height woman in her forties with a bit of weight around her middle. Her hair was dark brown with a slight touch of silver running through it in places and still had a prettiness about her, with her high cheek bones and Italian looking eyes. She wore a navy striped polo shirt over a pair of well pressed white cotton trousers and on her feet were a pair of white canvas pumps. Her daughter though, was amazing looking and in Lucy’s opinion could have been a model if she had been taller. With her long spiral curled mane of hair that she had pulled back with a white lace ribbon, the same high cheek bones and olive skin as her mother, though her brown oval eyes had looked tired when she had passed Lucy before. Probably lack of sleep, because of the drowsy little cutey who was propped up on her mummy’s knee, thought Lucy, as she glanced behind at the family, where Chantelle sat in a blue denim sun dress over a pink short sleeved T shirt, a floppy white sun hat and pink and white trainers over frilly white socks. She appeared to be dressed like her mummy, who wore a similar outfit, but without the frilly socks.

  ***

  Lucy sat back in her seat, taking advantage of the fact that they were not calling in at the San Lorenzo or Mountain View, to mull over that morning’s happenings. What a let down Adam had turned out to be. Her heart had skipped a beat when she had first seen him, but she could imagine he had no other conversation than his job at Fortuna Villas. Anyway, she thought dismissing her thoughts, what time did she have to form relationships?

  Fleetingly, she thought of Jenni on her way back to England, facing she knew not what when she got back to Bolton and Miguel who almost certainly would suffer a broken heart. Then on to Kath, who had taken her aback to put it mildly at the airport. She’d been sure a written warning would have arrived a little later in the internal post. She wondered what had happened to make her change her mind?

  Chapter Sixteen.

  “There’s a mini coach drawing up outside, probably bringing the new arrivals,” Gary remarked to Tracy, as they walked through the foyer to get to the dining room. “They must have been on time if they’ve got here for lunch.”

  “Well, I’m starving, so it’s good we’re getting there before they do,” said his wife, linking him through his arm. “You know, I can hardly believe we’ve been here since Friday. Doesn’t time fly?”

  Gary nodded, glad that his wife had perked up with the news that Mr. Sanchez was going to make some ‘phone calls. He had found her earlier hunched up in the bed, still in her nightie, full of misery as she waited for a call from the card company. “I’ve rung them again,” she had said, with her face puckered with woe at the situation she had put them in. “And I�
�m sorry Gary, it’s all my fault. I should have listened to you.”

  This was his dearest wife back again, his tiny flower that he must care for to keep her petals open to the sun. He gave her his news and she was at once her most loving and most grateful. He felt as if he was her hero when they surfaced at noon again.

  ***

  “Will we buy a house in Tenerife, Mummy?” asked Annabelle, after Cheryl had told her that when they had finished lunch, they were going for a drive in the Espace to look at some grand houses up on the hillside.

  “No, we won’t be Annabelle,” said Paul, glaring at Cheryl, because he knew what she was up to. She was always hinting at a second place abroad, for them to holiday in.

  “Well at least I don’t have to go to Kid’s club this afternoon. I’ve no one to play with, Daddy. Jack’s all right ‘cos he’s got Evan, but I’m the only older kid.”

  “Maybe there’ll be somebody your age amongst the new arrivals, Pumpkin. You’ll be able to see tomorrow.”

  “Well, if there isn’t, I’m not going anymore. I had to do a jigsaw today with that Anna and I did it better than she could.”

  ***

  “Here we are ladies and gentlemen,” said Lucy, as the mini coach pulled up on the driveway of the Hotel Valia. “Before you collect your luggage, could I remind you to read the leaflets on Health and Safety at this establishment. Common sense really, as you will see when you read it. After you have collected your luggage I will take you to Reception, who will give you reservation cards to fill out before you are given your room key. As you know from my name badge, my name is Lucy and I am resident here at the Valia. We have a rep’s desk situated just through the foyer to the left and I am there most mornings and afternoons, unless I am on a tour or airport duty. However my mobile number and head office number is displayed there quite clearly. You will be aware that we will be having a Welcome meeting at ten o’ clock tomorrow morning if you have looked in the Information pack, but for today you will be able to see me around the hotel. I hope you have an enjoyable stay and welcome on behalf of Periquito Travel.”

  ***

  “More arrivals,” said Greg as the family walked into the foyer, whilst Kate and Sonya tied their sarongs around their bodies, as they were not allowed to wear just swim-wear in the dining room.

  “They must have got in early,” Kate remarked, grabbing Evan by the hand, as he had seen Jack ahead of him and wanted to go and play.

  “Well, they’ll be able to enjoy the sun this afternoon,” said Sonya. “ Though I won’t, I’ll be rehearsing with the others. Didn’t you say the long term forecast isn’t very good, Dad?”

  “According to the Sunday paper it isn’t, I hope you’ve brought more books with you, Kate.”

  “I’ve one you haven’t read, Mum,” said Sonya. “ It’s a Maeve Binchy and I know you like her style.”

  ***

  “Ahh Lucy,” said Mr Sanchez, coming out of his office and seeing the rep’ hovering in the foyer while everyone was queuing to check in. “ Would it be possible for you to spare me a few minutes later on?”

  “Yes of course,” she replied looking puzzled. “Would you mind though, if I go to my apartment to change and have a shower first?”

  “Please, don’t let me stop you. My question is not so important as to deter a lady from showering herself. Perhaps we can have lunch together. Shall we say half past two?” He left her with a twinkle in his eye, thinking of his wife who usually showered at least three times a day.

  ***

  “Can you manage without the wheelchair, love?” asked Nobby, who was looking around for a porter, but couldn’t see one and wondered how he was going to manage two suitcases, hand luggage and the chair.

  “I could Nobby, but it would be a struggle with this tiled floor. Why don’t you go on ahead of me with the bags, then come back and get me? Just put the bags inside the door. I’ll be all right for a few minutes.”

  Nobby did as she suggested and Betty manoeuvred the wheelchair with her feet, shuffling around the water feature so that she could look over the patio and to the pool. It seemed a lovely place, all shiny tiles and plenty of sun loungers and palm trees that screened the place from the road. She hoped they’d have a happy time and Nobby was right in that she would get better. She had always been active and lively before being knocked down in a hit and run.

  ***

  Lesley smiled her thanks to the receptionist, then went across to ask the rep’ how she could get to Room 403?

  “You can take the lift over there, Mrs. Walker, or if you carry along that corridor you will come to a flight of stairs.”

  “Thank you, Lucy. I hope I may call you Lucy, only it’s the first time I’ve come away on my own. My husband usually takes the lead and I just follow on.”

  “Oh dear,” said Lucy sympathetically. “Was he unable to come with you, tied up at work or worse, is he ill?”

  “Something like that,” Lesley replied, feeling the tears of self pity beginning to well, “ but I’m sure I’ll manage. Thank you Lucy, perhaps I’ll see you later on.”

  She managed to get to her bedroom before the damn burst, it usually crept up on her in this way. She’d be feeling strong, confident and purposeful, then fragile and broken like a wind lashed daffodil. The antidepressants had helped in the beginning, when she had sat bereft on Christmas and Boxing Day, her mind numb to the point of being paralyzed, her ‘phone unanswered and presents unopened, as she let the tablets do their work like the lady doctor had said. Then a knock had come to her door next morning, a frantic knocking, a knocking that wouldn’t go away. It was her aunt and a carer from the old folk’s home, why hadn’t Aunty Marion been collected on Boxing Day? That had been the turning point, a small step out of her pit of misery, seeing her Aunty Marion with an injured look on her face!

  ***

  “Cindy, you’re going to have to speak to me at some time,” said Phil, as his wife continued to crash around their bedroom, throwing clothes and underwear into open drawers and onto the wardrobe hangers, with no thought to the state of their carefully ironed clothes. “ What do you expect me to do, ignore the child and forget about the poor little poppet until I get home?”

  “No I don’t,” Cindy replied between gritted teeth, “ but couldn’t you have waited until we’d got here, helped me unpack, maybe had a drink together and then rang Sally? You always put your family first, two families first if I’m to be exact. How many more calls will you want to make today?”

  “Oh Cindy, not again, I’m fed up with listening to the same old record. You knew when we married

  I had baggage. Five children, two ex- wives and two little dogs to be exact, but you said you could cope, that you loved the way I cared about them.”

  “That was until I saw my wages going in maintenance. I’ve been thinking for some time that I’m a

  mug.”

  “Then why not thrash this out at home, instead of waiting ‘til we got here, stupid? I’d have listened and sorted our finances out.”

  “Don’t you call me stupid, you bloody swine,” shouted an incensed Cindy, picking up a Gideon bible from the bedside table and chucking it at him. He ducked, then threw her on the bed in a rugby tackle and started tickling her.

  ***

  “This is quite a nice place, Darling,” said Anthea as she and her husband stood on the balcony of their third floor room looking out at their surroundings. “A bit of building work going on, but I’m sure it won’t intrude on our holiday.”

  “Very nice,” Brian agreed “ and a rather comfy bed for me to have my way with you on. Beats having to be quiet while Mandy is in residence, doesn’t it? Now you can scream to your heart’s content when I pretend I’m the monster from the deep.”

  “I don’t think we can overdo it, dear, the walls are probably quite thin and we don’t want to be ejected for causing alarm to our neighbours. No, we’ll think of something else to arouse our senses, a possible dalliance maybe with a like minded coup
le.”

  ***

  “This will do us,” said Denise to her daughter, as she turned the key in the lock and entered the first floor bedroom. She went across and flung open the heavy curtains, allowing the mid day sun to pour into the chilly room. “ See they’ve put a cot in for Chantelle. First off I’ll go down to Reception and see where I can get a drop of milk. Here, give me that bottle out of your baby bag, I’ll take it with me and see if I can get it sterilized.”

  “Okay, Mum,” said Vicky, feeling pooped all of a sudden. If she could she would have climbed on one of the beds and got some shut eye. “I’ll rock Chantelle and see if she’ll drop off now without a bottle. It’ll come in handy when she wakes up later on.”

  “While I’m down there, shall I see when lunch time finishes?” asked Denise. “Are you hungry now or shall we wait for the snack bar to open? Reception said we could get salads and burgers, when the dining room closes.”

  “I’m starving now, but feel too tired to make the effort. Let’s see how she goes, shall we, then we’ll make a decision later on?”

  Her mother nodded, took the bottle and shut the bedroom door quietly. It was lucky that Chantelle had lasted as long as she had.

  Vicky lay the sleeping baby in her cot and began to open her suitcase, searching for something lighter to put on. Anything that came to hand, as long as it was lighter than what she was wearing now. She felt gritty and sweaty, but she didn’t dare have a wash or a shower, her mother would be terribly mad if the child was left alone.

  ***

  “Lucy, thank you for joining me,” said Ralf Sanchez, standing up politely as the rep’ came over to his table. “I think we’ll have some peace to talk, as the waiters are beginning to clear the tables. Anyway, I’ll get one of them over and he can bring us an assortment of food on some plates.”