By eight pm that evening Ellen was once again tucked away at the back of the patio when the now familiar voice of Jan boomed out his usual “Hah-low!” He was accompanied by Amelia and they burst into the usual four language dialogue in rapid and faultless tones, laughing with the children, dancing with the parents, they were a slick team. But it didn’t mean that she wanted a part of it.
The thought of tonight’s “Pop force”, an act listed as “80’s Europop at its best” wasn’t the most inspiring, but she knew it was too early to head to bed; she didn’t get much sleep the previous night.
Two men in their twenties were stood at the poolside bar buying cocktails, laughing loudly as they asked for lewd sounding versions; much to the young bar tender’s chagrin. Tutting she shook her head softly.
A deep voice whispered, “they’re just enjoying themselves!”
She spun around and came face to face with Jan, his dark beady eyes assessing her in a rather unsavoury manner. She raised an eyebrow in what she hoped appeared a questioning manner, but was really a defensive ploy. So he continued.
“This is a holiday time, it’s good for people to relax, laugh.” She felt herself flush dramatically, suddenly she was embarrassed, here was this man judging her. She floundered for words, and so he added, “I’m sorry to embarrass you, but you look so sad, and we in Animacion pride ourselves on making the guests here happy. When I see you sad, I feel like I’ve failed!” He waggled his eyebrows in a gesture that he hoped would lighten the mood.
She tried to smile, “some people are immune to singing and dancing...”
He shook his head, “Damn! I’ve made you even more sad now! I am sorry. Please stay, watch the show?”
“It’s ok; I’m going for a walk anyway.”
With that she ran away with her tail between her legs.
Ellen scuffed her bare feet over the sand, her sandals hanging from her fingers as she walked. She was a contrary cow, she could see that now. She was scorning people who were enjoying themselves, just because she couldn’t. That only made her realise even more that she needed to break away, get away from these happy people, stop dragging them down.
When she could hear the applause that signified the end of the show, she made her way back to the terrace, she fancied an Irish coffee, that would help her relax and maybe sleep, the alcohol would outweigh the caffeine. The barman raised his eyebrows in surprise at her order, but told her to sit; he’d bring it out to her. She took a seat at a table a little distance from the bar and relaxed, for the first time in days. Quite a few people were leaving the terrace, romanticised couples and families, as the music quietened she closed her eyes and waited for her coffee.
“Coffee senorita?” the soft voice of the barman dragged her from her moment of serenity. Thanking him she took a sip then watched a dozen people dancing in front of the stage. She chuckled at the taller of the two men who’d been ordering the cocktails earlier as he re-enacted Dirty Dancing with his partner, culminating with ‘the lift’.
“You see? I told you people were just having fun!”
She flicked her head in the direction of the voice and flinched as her eyes landed on Jan at the exact moment her mind placed the deep voice. She couldn’t put an age on him, he looked twenty, twenty one, with his youthful looks, but he seemed to have a maturity that belied that. She found in disconcerting not to be able to read him, but then she’d read Richard totally wrong.....
“You should join in tomorrow; I think you’d win things. And it might make you smile!”
She saw red, anger, resentment and the still raw pain overtaking her, “not everyone wants to be cheered up by stupid games and karaoke, I’m sorry if that puts your extremely fragile ego and work ethic at risk! But that’s the way it is!”
Ellen almost gasped at her own brashness, then she saw his face drop. Was that hurt? Shit! She’d been too aggressive. But it was too late, with a nod of the head he’d disappeared into the hotel. She drank her coffee then headed to bed, feeling even worse than she had earlier.
The next day she awoke early once again, so she headed down to the water and swam in the sea, this time observing of the undercurrents. She trawled across the bay, cutting a smooth line through the millpond that was the sea that day. After twenty minutes she made her way to the shore, drying herself off then dropping onto her towel. There was a little early morning sun and she basked there for a while until she was drier.
Taking some breakfast up to her room, she spent the morning on her balcony reading. Avoiding this Jan character because you’re embarrassed? A voice at the back of her mind kept singing loudly, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. As she read a thriller, all about a child hiding out after witnessing a brutal murder, her thoughts were punctuated by the sounds of aerobics and then water polo wafting up from the pool terrace.
It was no use; she had to face the music. She wished now she’d picked a hotel in the middle of a resort then she could wander somewhere, find other beaches, places away from this hotel....but it was meant to be a romantic paradise. God she hated Richard, all this should’ve been different, this was supposed to be her honeymoon. But then she shook her head, she’d found him in his office a week before their wedding, trousers around his ankles, her best friend...Ellen shook her head.
Bloody Rebecca her so called confidante, best friend on her knees at his desk doing the unthinkable. The image was SO vivid, she could recall the circle of red lipstick still imprinted on him as her friend had looked up shocked, his erection dropping from her mouth. Rebecca had looked devastated, guilty, Richard had looked annoyed, it was over too soon, and he was frustrated. She knew that if it had been anyone but Rebecca and if he’d shown an ounce of remorse, regret, then she’d have gone through with the wedding, but he was angry with HER for spoiling his plans. He’d scowled, opened his mouth and a diatribe of verbal abuse had rained on her shoulders. Even Rebecca had been stunned. But it was too little too late from her too.
The terrace and pool were busy, taking her mind off the past again, and over the cacophony she could hear the same baritone voice instructing the water based ‘polo players’ from poolside. As she stepped out into the sun she noted a pause in his commentary and looking up she flushed again as she met his inquisitive gaze.
Dropping her head she marched across the patio to the steps and descended to the beach, ignoring the chuckle that seemed to boom out at the same volume as his voice.
The evening’s entertainment, Music and Magic was actually quite funny, and once Ellen actually relaxed and followed the show she found she was enjoying herself. Unfortunately there was no sign of Jan for her to apologise, he must have a night off. It was gone midnight when she found herself walking along the beach again. This had become an almost ritual for her. Kicking off her shoes she lifted the hem on her long dress and paddled in the water’s edge. It was deliciously cool and her excessively sun-kissed body suddenly longed for submersion in the inviting sea. Looking around the beach was deserted. She wasn’t about to skinny dip, but surely she could swim in her underwear? It was a little reckless but she’d been so bloody conservative for so bloody long. Dumping her sandals she slid the dress off her arms, and in her really too skimpy demi bra and lacy pants she jogged into the sea.
She swam for while, then found sanctuary just floating on her back like a starfish, the water a caress to her scalp and skin, her hair floating around her in waves. It was totally absorbing, calming, the blinking of the stars and the streak of moonlight only adding to a really bewitching experience. She was about to make for the shore when she heard a sound. Looking to the beach she could just make someone out in the distance and that someone was making for the water.
Staying shoulder deep in the water she watched the figure cutting through the water towards her, a strong stroke that lacked the finesse years of swim coaching had produced in herself. Ellen was suddenly terrified; here she was virtually naked in the path of another swimmer. Shaking almost violently she managed to reach the floor with her tiptoes, trying to propel herself into the shadow of the cliffs to her right. She hoped that no one would see her; she’d wait until they left and then make her way out. The water wasn’t that cold.
The top of the swimmers head was all she could see other than the arms that alternately lifted out of the water, and as he got closer he slowed. He was about thirty feet away when he stopped, standing up and beaming at her. It was Jan.
“Hallo again!”
She half grimaced keeping her body concealed under the water, “are you following me?”
He laughed loudly and uncontrollably, “you really do admire yourself, hey?”
Immediately Ellen felt awful, she’d yet again acted like a bitch to him. “I just want to be alone, and everywhere I turn you’re there!”
He shrugged, “we take it in turns to supervise the beach at night. There are too many....’swimmers’!” With perfect timing at that moment some chuckles from the sand made her pivot. Stripping out of their clothes with peals of hysterics were the two men she’d observed drinking rowdily the previous evening, and presumably their girlfriends.
“They’re skinny dipping?” she asked embarrassed all over again. At this distance she still couldn’t place an age on him. His dark eyes seemed to study her, the scant moonlight and the angulations of his face meaning she couldn’t see his exact expression.
Nodding Jan looked across at them, “every night someone does this. The hotel are concerned, drink and swim do not mix!”
Ellen digested this, the fact that foolish people risked their and other people lives for a quick thrill. But then she’d had a few drinks...was she just as bad?
With two hands he flicked his flattened hair back forcing the water out of it and down his spine, “why are you here?”
“Swimming? Or Majorca?” she asked honestly.
Jan grinned, “I meant swim. Most people at this time do it as a joke with friends...you’re alone. Though why you are here in Majorca is a good question too?”
She could and should terminate this conversation, but he was pleasant, it was easy to imagine he may actually be more fun than she’d given him credit for. So she smiled, “I like swimming, it relaxes me, as for Majorca, that’s for me to know and you to wonder about.”
“I knew it!” he announced dramatically, and on seeing Ellen’s puzzled expression he elaborated. “You CAN smile...” he leaned towards her and added at a whisper, “and it suits you too!”
Instead of blushing as she feared she would, she playfully struck his shoulder, “cheeky!”
The sounds of shrieks caused them both to spin around. The two men were in the water up to their waists, their naked girlfriends astride their shoulders as they splashed each other still screeching.
“Are swimmers always naked?” she asked turning to Jan.
He grinned nodding, “oh yeah.”
Suddenly she noticed the spark in his eyes, “are you too?”
His eyes widened and Ellen wasn’t encouraged by that, grinning he smiled at her, “what was it you said? It’s for me to know, and you to try to find out!” As her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock, he laughed, “looks like you’re chicken!”
He was flirting with her, half of her wanted to lash out slap his face, but the other half was flattered. She felt so low at the moment, so unloved and worthless that a little attention was just what the doctor ordered.
“Me? Chicken? Find out if you’re naked or not?” she raised an eyebrow before reaching out a hand. She touched his ribs on his right side, both of their breathing seemed to quicken and Ellen suddenly realised she’d been played. She’d walked right into this, the sudden tension between them was all her fault. Taking a deep breath she slipped her hand down his body over what seemed like eons of flesh but was merely a few inches of hard toned abdomen. Then she encountered a waist band...cotton shorts and she let out the held breath slowly. “Now who’s chicken?” she asked with a victorious grin.
As she turned to make her way towards the shore, two things stopped her, firstly the realisation that her impractical and probably transparent underwear was about to be exposed, and secondly that the whoosh over her left shoulder was a very sodden pair of boxer shorts that landed to float in front of her!
Before she could respond with indignation and anger, he chuckled, offered a quick, “see you soon!” Then swam off to the shore.
Half an hour later as discreetly as possible Ellen slinked up the beach dragging the dress over her sodden underwear then dashed to her room.
She still felt a little sheepish the next day. She’d spent all night analysing her stupid behaviour, firstly swimming at night, then flirting....she really needed to grow up and stop getting herself into stupid situations. She hoped there wouldn’t be any awkwardness between her and Jan, she had finally realised that he may not be the geeky loser she’d first imagined.
It was gone lunchtime when she heard the voice she’d been unwittingly craving to hear boom across the terrace.
“Hah-low! Two o'clock is time for petanque...dos de la tarde es hora de petanca….deux est heures de temps pour la pétanque…zeit für Petanque! Please come and join us!”
From behind her shades she watched him unpack the set of boules in front of the purpose made sand pit. By the time he looked up several people had gathered, all keen to compete. It really was sad, she couldn’t quite understand this fascination with juvenile games on such a beautiful day. But from her position under her parasol she was able to see everything. Three girls not more than twelve were hanging around giggling, a group of five women in their thirties that she’d seen around the pool the last two days were all stood around batting eyelashes, suddenly it all clicked for Ellen! They all fancied the kinda scrawny, unassuming guy dressed in a uniform of white polo shirt, navy football shorts and navy baseball cap.
Suckers! She thought. For the exact reason she intended to do no more than harmlessly flirt she knew that someone in his position, here in a holiday resort had women constantly throw themselves at him. The sun, the freedom, the scantily clad clothing all seemed to push libidos to the limit. And someone like him was the winner, he reaped the rewards!
Glancing over the top of her book she quite enjoyed the voyeuristic treat of snippets of the event unfolding. The men all wanted to be his friend, slaps on the back and chats in various languages, a constant commentary in that deep booming voice. The girls and women giggled, fluttering eyelashes thrusting cleavage. Why? She wondered. He was no oil painting, average build, looks, nothing that made him stand out. But what he did have was charisma, in barrels. He flirted with the women, enough to make them feel special, but not enough to lead them on, and he was cool, a bit edgy yet unthreatening to the men.
And her? Was she another of the besotted women fawning over him? Was her hostility a challenge to him? She enjoyed their banter, liked the fact that he wrong footed her, stood up to her....but she was fragile, and she had NO intention of letting this experienced player damage her any further. She ignored the little voice that reminded her that their ‘encounter’ the previous night and led to the best night’s sleep she’d had in weeks.