She gave him another one, explained about how to get the aim right, flung her own, and told him to try again. This time his quoit hit a trayful of drinks that a pool waiter was just delivering to a gaggle of young women; happily not the ones who had recently groped her opponent.
‘I hope he doesn’t expect a tip for that,’ said Hugo, and took another quoit from Lady A.
For the third time, Lady A’s throw was spot on. This time, Hugo’s went through an open doorway, and they could hear it bouncing down a flight of metal stairs. There was a crash and a scream, and a shattering of glass, then silence. ‘Let’s get out of here, Hugo. I do believe you’ve bowled someone off their feet, and it’s time we weren’t here. Are you squiffy after just two rum punches?’
Hugo smiled a smile that suggested that a village, somewhere, was missing its idiot, and they left the deck to get a cup of coffee in the café. Perhaps it would help him sober up.
That evening they decided to try out the dancing, leaving the restaurant around nine and heading towards the music. It would certainly not be Viennese waltzes and foxtrots from the sound of it, but they were determined to have a go, just because they were there.
It was so crowded that they had to snake their way between gyrating bodies exuding hormones and sweat in equal proportions. Hugo was particularly clumsy at this, and his progress was marked by cries of ‘ow’ and ‘ouch’ and ‘mind out’ – or at least a version of that last one.
He was thoroughly hot and bothered by the time he reached the bar, and he clutched on to it as a drowning man might grasp the side of a life-boat. ‘I don’t like it in here, Manda,’ he yelled above the booming music. Lady A was thinking exactly the same thing herself, when a young female in a dress that left very little to the imagination caught him from behind, whirled him round and, clasping her hands about his neck, began to sway close against his body.
Hugo gave a strangled scream and tried to untangle himself, but his partner was determined to fulfil the dare her mate had issued. Pushing her sweating face against his, her lips began to move against his lips in the motion of a passionate kiss, and Hugo found that he couldn’t breathe, as her face was also blocking his nose. When she tried to insinuate her tongue between his tightly closed lips, he lost his temper and panicked at the same time.
Lifting a foot, he stamped on one of her stiletto-clad feet as hard as he could – not very gentlemanly, but he was suffocating under the suction of her face on his. He followed this up with a quick kick on the shin. That broke her hold, and he came up for air, already turning to make an escape from his captor. But he needn’t have bothered; or rather, it was just as well that he did, for she stood stock still, bent forward slightly, and vomited on exactly the spot on which he had been standing.
As he approached the bar, Lady Amanda grabbed his arm and said, ‘Come on, Hugo. This is no place for us,’ and steered him towards the exit. They had to undergo the same struggle through the throng of people to escape, but they eventually made it, leaving behind them an even larger number of people bemoaning the fact that someone had trodden on their toes. ‘We shall not be returning to that particular venue,’ Lady A announced as they reached the safety of the corridor that led to the atrium. ‘I’m glad I’m not young, if one has to behave like that.’
‘We were young once, but I believe we had much better manners,’ retorted Hugo, heaving a huge sigh of relief to be safe again, and away from that nearly-nude female octopus. ‘I’ve never been so frightened in my life.’
That night, Hugo woke several times with a loud whimpering noise, from his nightmares about the unspeakable assault which had been perpetrated upon his person earlier.
The cruise finally came to an end, and before they knew it, their cases had been put on the dock, and they were waiting to disembark, with about two thousand other cruisers, who were only going to spend the day on the island. The view was terrific. There were golden beaches, there was a turquoise lagoon. To their left was what they were to learn was the jewellery quarter, and to the left of that, in the distance, a gathering of rather exclusive-looking villas. The backdrop was tropical, a positive jungle of palm trees and other exotic growth through which, to the right, peeped the summit of a mountain.
And there, on the dockside, were the rest of the members of the school reunion party, waving Union Jacks and shouting their heads off.
‘May we disembark, please?’ enquired Lady Amanda, in her most imperial voice.
‘You’ve gotta wait till the buses show up,’ replied a rather scruffy crew member, trying to issue her with a paper sticker.
‘Don’t you dare try to touch that part of my body,’ she squealed, as his hand approached her right breast. ‘We are not going on a coach trip. We are disembarking here for a holiday with the island’s owners.’ – not quite technically accurate, but it sounded good.
‘Oo-er, ’oity-toity, missus. Pardon me breathing,’ was the only reply she received, as he waved the whole party of old girls, Douglas Huddlestone-Black included, through the rope that had been across the gangplank, and let them go with a sarcastic smile and an ironic wave – at least, that’s what Lady Amanda said they were, as she bustled indignantly down the gangplank, trying her hardest not to lose her balance on the steep gradient. She had managed, by sheer willpower, to misinterpret the one-fingered gesture that the ill-mannered seaman had made at them.
Chapter Five
Standing next to their luggage, they were engulfed in a party of colourfully dressed woman and one man. Douglas Huddlestone-Black, after a clipped ‘Hello,’ went off on his own, heading west. Red, white, blue, pink, purple, turquoise, gold, yellow: the proliferation of colours was rather like being landed on by a flock of huge, noisy parrots.
‘Yoohoo, Horseface!’
‘Coo-ee, Sniffy. Got yer toyboy in tow then?’
‘You’re an hour late. We’ve already had to take a break for a long, cool drink.’
‘Tiddly-pom, Droopy-Drawers.’
Lady Amanda shouted loudly for silence, then began the introductions, for the benefit of Hugo and Mr and Mrs Beauchamp. ‘We’ll start with these two. Beauchamp is my butler-cum-general factotum, Enid is an old friend and his new wife …’
At this, cat-calls issued from the welcome party, ‘and this is my very old friend Hugo, whom some of you may have met before when you stayed with me in the holidays, all those centuries ago.’ The thought that they may have come across Beauchamp during these visits did not even occur to her, as none of her friends ever spared a glance for servants, and he would have been very young – maybe just a fill-in boot boy, and she rather felt that both she and Beauchamp would be the better for her not announcing that he was her illegitimate half-brother. Lady Amanda then passed the introductions baton over to Windy.
‘For the purposes of these three,’ began Windy Bartholomew, ‘may I introduce Butterfingers Bartholomew’ – a chunky woman with a startlingly lilac-coloured rinse in her hair – ‘Hefferlump Leclerc’ – a fat woman with very short white hair – ‘Snotty Nosegay’ – a wisp of a woman with red eyes, sneezing into a handkerchief that looked as if it were long overdue for a change – ‘Hopalong Cassidy: yes, ha ha everyone’ – a tall, broadly-built woman with long grey-white hair in a plait – ‘Eeyore Montrose’ – here, she indicated a woman with a lugubrious face – ‘And finally, me, Windy Winterbottom’ – the very curvaceous woman dressed in the height of tropical fashion wiggled her fingers at them, then continued.
‘Not forgetting my ever-loving partner, Beep-Beep Morris, the light of my life,’ she crooned. ‘And don’t worry if you’re newcomers to this group, I have a list at home waiting for you, with everyone’s names on, and the number of the villa in which they’ll be staying. We’ll soon all be the best of friends again, or even for the first time.’
Distinguishable from the crowd of elderly ladies, two scowled at each other, and there was certainly no love lost between them. They had never got on, Longshanks and Wuffles.
‘Wh
ere’s Douglas?’ asked Wuffles, shaking her head to dispel the feeling of dislike that had just washed over her. ‘He just sort of sloped off on his own, and we hardly saw him aboard ship.’
‘He’ll just have made for his usual villa. He’s not all that sociable until he gets into the swing of island life again,’ replied Windy, smiling round at all the familiar faces about her.
‘Probably upset by losing his cabin steward like that,’ put in Horseface, as explanation.
‘What happened to his cabin steward, then?’ Suddenly Lady A was all ears. Was this what she and Hugo had heard happening after the midnight swim?
‘He just disappeared off the ship. Everyone was talking about it. I think it was the afternoon you and Hugo went off to play deck games. It was assumed that he’d somehow gone overboard, or somehow jumped ship. Douglas was very upset about it.’
‘I’ll bet he was,’ said Lady Amanda, her face thoughtful, her head full of that night, when she had hear the sound of what could have been a body being dragged, followed by a splash, and the sudden appearance of Douglas Huddlestone-Black, apparently just taking a casual early-hours stroll around the deck.
She would keep her mouth shut for now, as Hugo had been a little too hard of hearing to notice it – he said he had water in his ears, but she didn’t believe him – and just see if anything else occurred that might shed light on this peculiar incident of what the gay dog did in the night. And, she must stop using that expression: it meant something totally different now, or so people told her.
For Your Information:
Numbers
1 – Horseface and Fflageolet – FOR SALE
3 – FOR SALE
5 – Adonis – FOR SALE
7 – Wuffles, Droopy-Drawers, and Longshanks – FOR SALE
9 – Hefferlump – The Palms
11 – Butterfingers – Tropical Hideaway
12A – Snotty – Lagoon View
15 – Sniffy and Hugo – FOR SALE
16 – Windy and Beep-Beep – Cocktails Opposite
2 – Hopalong – Coconut Corner
4 – FOR SALE
6 – FOR SALE
8 – Beauchamp and Enid – FOR SALE
10 – FOR SALE
12 – FOR SALE
14 – Eeyore – West Indies Retreat
NB: As there is no 13, please note that 16 is on the odd numbers side
The above information was presented to all those staying, for their convenience, to avoid confusion as to who was staying where, and with whom – and, of course, to highlight which of the properties were currently available for purchase. It was all neatly set out on a sheet of A4 which Windy had printed for them, and from which she had great hopes of some more properties being sold.
The whole development had been expensive to build, and it would not be until they were all sold that she and Beep-Beep would reap the full reward for their entrepreneurial spirit. Those already living there had been allotted the title to their villas by dint of their initial investment in the business proposition, and Windy bemoaned the fact that they had not, yet, yielded a bean, what with building costs and the original purchase of the land. Windy never even blushed as she made this public declaration of (comparative) poverty.
As the whole group perused this complicated list of house numbers and nicknames, Longshanks suddenly sighed and said, ‘I don’t know how I’m going to face my unpacking. I do so wish I had that lovely cabin steward from the boat. Horseface told you he disappeared, didn’t she? I don’t know whether he was assigned to other duties, but I got a painfully shy woman next, who blushed if I even looked at her, and she wasn’t a patch on my dear old Sam with his towel swans. Did he do any of you, too?’
There was a chorus of ‘no’s, then Fflageolet piped up with, ‘I’m fairly sure he did Adonis’ cabin as well. He said something about a Sam, and said he thought it was scandalous that all the Filipinos had been given English names to make it easier for the passengers. He was sure we could have managed to use their real names, just to reserve a bit of dignity for them in their menial work.’
‘That’s very interesting,’ muttered Lady Amanda, and was given furiously to think. Back to her mind came again the sound of dragging, the splash, then, a few seconds later, Huddlestone-Black appearing round the corner on the deck the night they had gone for a midnight swim. Every time she thought about this, she became more and more convinced that their lovely Adonis had done for his steward. Was there dirty work afoot here? Was their darling Douglas really hiding a sinister side? She was beginning to feel quite sure of it, and this was the second time the subject had been raised since they had landed, albeit by different people.
She must speak to Beauchamp later, if she could drag him away from Enid. At this thought, she saw, in her mind’s eye, a crowbar, and decided that she would have to find a way to entice him away from his newly made-up marital bed, just for a consultation. Then she could try to explain her fears to Hugo. The privacy of their own villa would at least allow her to raise her voice without anyone else hearing. In her opinion, there were dark deeds afoot, and nothing would persuade her otherwise.
Her reverie was broken by the penetrating voice of Windy who, clapping her hands loudly, called, ‘Attention everyone, please. Your luggage will arrive any minute on the island bus. Staff will deliver it to your quarters, then we shall get on board and go on an island tour so that you can fully appreciate the beauties of Caribbaya.
‘When we have done that we’ll take a trip to Old Uncle Obediah’s Rum Keg Landing Beach Bar, timed for when the cruise ship has to leave, so that there is not too much of a crowd and, finally, we shall finish up at the Parakeet Club. All your belongings will be safely stored while we are gone, and we can get back here for a leisurely nightcap before retiring for the night. I trust that sounds agreeable to all of you?’
There was a muttering of agreement and a smattering of applause, as she received universal approval, and it was only a minute or so later when they heard the frantic hooting of a horn, and an elderly bus bucketed along the road towards them with a definite list to starboard, as it drew up before them.
‘Ah put de valises on de left,’ a deep voice called through the open driver’s window, and they all made the acquaintance of Winstone Churchill, the unforgettably-named bus driver. ‘When you lovely ladies load yourselves on, make sure you load de weight evenly between both sides, oderwise dis ole jalopy sways like an ole boat on de rollin’ waves.’
‘Hi there, Winstone. You all ready for this tour?’ called Windy.
‘I’s as ready as I’s ever goin’ t’ be. I’ve checked de mike’s workin’, and I’s ready to roll when you are, Miz Wendy. Ah’ll just unload de baggage.’
‘Come along, girls and boys; let’s go and check out this beautiful island,’ Windy exhorted them, and shepherded them on to the dilapidated vehicle. ‘We’re having a few events throughout the island to try to raise funds towards a new bus.
‘We’re organising themed events in the jewellery district, the market, the township, and by the lagoon over the next couple of months. And if Beep-Beep and I make any sales in the near future, we shall make a suitably sizeable donation to the funds. Now, everybody ready? Then, off we go. Hi ho, Winstone,’ tootled Windy. Winstone was in his seat again, having left the luggage for the villa staff to sort out and deliver, as it was all labelled, and with a large and smoky backfire they were off.
The suspension of the bus produced a state which was rather like being at sea in a very small craft, as it rolled with the punches of the potholes in the road, but soon they were skirting the coast heading west. It wasn’t long before Windy pointed out two watering holes within walking distance of their accommodation: namely Old Uncle Obediah’s Rum Keg Landing Beach Bar, which was actually on the sands, and the Lizard Lounge, a cocktail bar which had got its name, not because of its predatory male patrons, but because of its saurian visitors.
Rounding a headland, heading north-east now, they arrived at the ou
tskirts of a colourful market, bursting with the smells of ripe fruit and cooking meats and vegetables. This was where a lot of the indigenous islanders sold their wares, and even those that worked for households in Parrot Bay, or on the land, lived just a short way away in the township, which was on the northern coast.
The township was a ramshackle gathering of wooden buildings in myriad colours and assorted states of repair, but was memorable for its atmosphere of friendliness, all those out on the streets waving to Winstone and his passengers as they passed through, and small children, almost naked in the tropical weather, running after the dilapidated old vehicle, laughing and shouting.
He then coaxed the rickety old bus inland, through a forest road which then almost turned back on itself to take them to the foot of the mountain, round which a road ran. Apparently this was a fairly new route, as the coves on the far side of it used to be accessible only from the sea, and were said to be the site of a lot of smuggling in the past.
The bus then headed for the buildings of the cruise terminal, driving slowly towards what was known as the jewellery district. Although there were a few places that sold souvenirs and food, the shops were mainly full of gold, silver and precious stones, supplemented by fabulous quality (and price) clocks and watches.
This was the main tourist trap, apart from the market, to which Winstone ran regular trips for the day visitors and, as there was no tourist accommodation on the island, made the bulk of its money when the ships docked for the day. Thus, its employees had limited working hours, giving them more freedom than those usually employed in retail establishments, although a ship mooring overnight sometimes gave them very long hours.
Winstone let them off at a bronze statue of a figure he told them was Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson., although no one could actually see any resemblance, but proving that the island had once been under the care and administration of the British government, and instructed them to meet him back there in one hour exactly. ‘Latecomers will find theirselves walkin’ home,’ he announced, ‘I’s still got ma normal routes to cover when I’s not chauffeurin’ around dis bunch o’ fine ladies … and gents.’ He looked at Hugo with big, brown, apologetic eyes at this near omission. He waved them off imperiously as he drove away in a cloud of smoke and a salute of back-fires. Beauchamp and Enid, and Douglas Huddlestone-Black, were conspicuous by their absence.
Caribbean Sunset with a Yellow Parrot (The Belchester Chronicles Book 5) Page 4