All Inclusive (24 page)

Beth made a few noises of
sympathy, which was all she could do under the increasingly furious kneading as Juliana warmed to her topic.

‘And they never stay faithful neither. Too many holiday girls for that – they collect them like badges so they can spread the seed!' Juliana's hearty laugh almost blew the candles out. ‘I had a friend,' she went on. ‘She had one man; three years he stayed with her, gave her two children. And one day she came home and he's there doing his thing with a woman from Denmark. In my friend's
own home
!' She gave Beth's thigh a slap to underline the outrage. Beth grunted her sympathy, which Juliana took as an OK to continue.

‘And
on their bed
!' More slap. ‘So my friend . . .' Rub-rub-slap. ‘My friend . . . she took an axe!'

Beth's eyes flew open and she stiffened. ‘She did
what
?' she said.

‘She took an axe and she killed him!' Thump went Juliana's big hands on Beth's shoulder blade.

‘Like that!' Whack on her lower back.

‘Dead!' Juliana slathered on another palmful of oil. ‘You OK? We're nearly done now, honey. You feelin' nice and relaxed now?'

Was it likely? ‘Mmm. Er, yes I'm fine,' Beth thought it wisest to say. She sighed, relieved it was nearly over. After this she needed to go and have a lie-down, or a swim, anything that really
was
restful. Juliana certainly put her all into her work. She'd hate to catch her on a bad day.

‘Course you know what, don't you? You're ahead of me, I can tell!'

Beth wasn't, and wondered with some dread what was coming next.

Juliana laughed. ‘I can tell because you've gone tense on me!'

Oh really? Amazing, Beth managed not to say.

‘That wasn't no friend I was talking about, not really – that was me!'

Beth almost held her breath in horror while Juliana did the final gentle pitter-patter with her fingers, and at last the little finishing-off bell was tinkling.

‘You enjoy that, honey? You're looking good. Now remember, take care and for two hours it's no sun, no drink, no tea or coffee, and drink plenty of water. I'll leave you to dress now . . .'

But Beth was already on her feet, ready to go with her wrap and her sandals on.

‘Hey you're fast! You gotta man to meet?' Juliana grinned. ‘You know I better tell you something, case you go reportin' me to Miriam and tellin' all your friends. I didn't kill him. Not quite,' she admitted, leaning close to Beth and half-whispering, as if this was secretly more shameful than if she had committed murder. ‘I just gave him the big fright – and the Danish woman a big one too. Men need that sometimes, when they step out of line. You remember that, honey, if your man ever lets you down. You go get yourself a big axe and you remember what Juliana told you!'

28 ml peach schnapps

21 ml vodka

cranberry juice

orange juice

Delilah twisted round to look in the bathroom mirror, studying the back of her knee where she'd been scratching. The whole area – from mid-calf to halfway up her thigh – was swollen with bites, livid scarlet, mottled and agonizingly itchy. She blamed her mother, whose brilliant idea it had been to go out that afternoon and wander round the swampy woods. Why hadn't she warned her about the fifty zillion billion mosquito population that existed up in the rain forest, all hungry and desperate to munch on fresh young skin?

‘It's only a twenty-minute trip in a cab and then a short walk in the rain forest,' Beth had suggested to Delilah and Nick. ‘It won't make you tired, Del, and the scenery is so beautiful, definitely not to be missed.'

Oh and it was, Delilah conceded, thinking of the great hanging liana tendrils, the slender waterfalls
tumbling over the mossy rocks, the giant ferns and the unexpected orchids crowded onto twisted branches. It was fabulously beautiful, like something off wildlife TV programmes but with the added mildly delicious smell of something soggily rotting. It was also sweltering and steamy and frighteningly full of things that might want to kill you – weird monkeys (unseen but heard scarily cackling in the trees), huge lizards whizzing up and down branches, checking you out; mongooses scuttling through dripping undergrowth like long rats; the terrifying suspicion of snakes – as well as things that just wanted a nourishing nibble, like the mozzies.

‘Didn't you use the anti-mosquito spray?' her mother had asked, the moment she saw Delilah scratching and slapping at her legs as they followed the guide along the trail.

‘You might have told me I'd be eaten alive,' Delilah had complained. ‘How was I supposed to know?'

Her mother had been typically sensible and worn trousers – her legs safely protected under her beige linen and her arms out of range under a long-sleeved white shirt. Even Nick had worn his combats for protection. All right for them.

And what did she let me loose in the jungle wearing? Me, her precious daughter? Delilah grumbled to herself as she rubbed ineffectively at the worst of the bites. A little pair of denim shorts and a sleeveless tee, that's what. Why didn't she say something before they left the hotel? Why didn't she send me back to get something more covering? Does she want me to die of some mozzie-borne tropical disease?

A little corner of Delilah's mind came close to admitting that something
might
have been said as they waited for the taxi: something along the lines of
‘There's still time to run back to your room and put some trousers on' or words to that effect. Unfortunately, Delilah had translated those words into critical mother-speak, as in ‘You're not going out dressed like that, are you?', had gone into a huff and refused to change. It wasn't her fault. The hazards should have been explained more clearly. What use was a mother who couldn't make herself understood?

Sam was going to love this, she thought miserably, imagining his hands on her skin, encountering nothing but ugly oozing lumps and bumps. How sexy was it (not) to have one big fat swelled-up leg and huge bites on the inside of both elbows? Great. And they'd only get worse, Delilah realized gloomily as she ran the shower at a cool and soothing temperature, quite probably there was another giant crop of bites lurking in her skin that hadn't got round to showing themselves yet. She would be one huge scarlet splodge. Not to mention the next stage when they went blistery before turning into disgusting crunchy scabs.

‘Thanks a lot, Mum.' Delilah scowled at the mirror. ‘Are you always going to pull stunts like this so that I'll never, ever get it on with a boyfriend?'

The weekly Barbecue Night at the Mango Experience started early. The Frangipani restaurant was closed for the night and instead big circular tables were set up in front of the Sundown bar close to the beach, and a buffet was arranged in an open-sided marquee close to the pool. The idea was to get everyone to mingle, to have them sitting in random groups and bonding with strangers so that when they returned home they'd be able to spread the word about what a friendly place it was. Sports trainers and spa staff joined in too, distributing themselves around, eating starters at one
table, moving round to a main course at another, and having to smile and be scrupulously polite as guest after guest whinged that tennis courts had to be booked two days in advance and why didn't manicures come under the All Inclusive tariff.

Guests liked to make an early start bagging a table for themselves and their friends and a cocktail or two at the same time, while the barbies were being fired up in big oil drums and the steel band tuned up on the terrace. A stage was set up for after-dinner entertainment and a limbo bar was already in place to which, following a demonstration of spectacularly costumed skill, guests would be invited to try their own luck.

‘There you are Lesley, your speciality!' Len called to her as he carried a tray of drinks to the table he'd chosen under the tamarind tree.

‘I don't know about that,' Lesley demurred, taking a pina colada from Len's tray and choosing a chair facing the ocean.

‘But you did really brilliantly last year!' Beth told her. ‘I heard you were the winner by miles!'

Delilah looked at Lesley in undisguised amazement. ‘What, you, like, you actually go up on the stage in front of
everyone
and wiggle under that bar?
Really?
'

‘Yes really, Delilah!' Lesley assured her. ‘I was a very bendy ballet dancer in my day, believe it or not.'

Delilah gave her another look, one that said she'd believe it when she saw it, but would, frankly, rather not have to be there when it happened.

‘You should try it, love,' Lesley told her. ‘I could do with the competition. You might need to wear something longer than that little skirt though. I've come prepared – got my stretchy Calvins on. Last year there was a woman giving it a go in a micro mini-skirt and a thong and showing the whole pudding. We didn't
know where to look, did we Len?' Lesley gave a hoot of laughter while Beth fired a warning glare at Delilah, wondering if they'd done the right thing.

In past years on barbecue night, she and Ned and whoever else fancied avoiding the rather holiday-camp compulsory-jollity atmosphere (Cyn and Bradley last time), had taken the opportunity to go out to an elegant seafood restaurant along the coast and stay there until all danger of being hauled up to make fools of themselves on stage had passed. This time, with Nick and Delilah's entertainment to consider, they'd decided to give the barbecue a go as it was more likely to appeal to the younger ones. Perhaps, she thought, she and Ned should simply have gone out anyway and left them to it. She had run the idea of escape past the two of them but Delilah in particular had been really keen to stay, in spite of still giving Beth a hard time over the mosquito bites.

‘Why would I want to miss it? You're such a snob Mum! It'll be fun. We have barbies at home all summer and you don't get sniffy about those.'

‘True enough,' Beth conceded, not really minding either way. For one thing, if Lesley really was going to shimmy under a low bar, she'd quite like to be there to cheer her on.

‘Got room for us?' Cynthia drifted over to the table, bringing with her a cloud of her perfume and a large rum punch.

‘Of course! I saved seats for you and Bradley – unless you want to sit with your in-laws?' Len said, pulling out a chair for her and exuding bonhomie like a first-class host.

‘That witch Angela? No way! I'm not sure where Brad is, actually,' Cynthia said as she sat down. ‘He was having a treatment – one of those seaweed wraps
like you had earlier, Beth, and it was all running a bit late. I think he's on his way. Never mind,' she said, smiling brightly at Beth and Ned, ‘I can choose another man to sit beside, can't I? Beth, you won't mind if I borrow yours? Come on, darling,' she called to Ned, patting the chair beside her. ‘Come and be with me tonight. Beth can have Brad when he gets here. If she wants him, that is.'

‘
Swingers
,' Delilah muttered to Nick, covering the end of the word with a cough.

‘Don't even joke!' Nick said, looking round to see who else, as the terrace began to fill up, was likely to join them. Sadie and Mark were with Angela and Michael and a selection of the vast Americans, a couple of tables away. Michael waved to them, indicating a couple of vacant chairs.

‘Do you want to go and sit with them?' Nick asked Delilah. ‘Because if you do, I could come too.'

Delilah grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from her parents' hearing range. ‘Nick. Just leave her alone. I know what you're doing, I've been watching you.'

‘Doing? What, me? What
could
I be doing? Truly Delilah,' and he put his hand to his heart, ‘Angela so isn't my type.'

Delilah tried to stay serious. ‘You know I don't mean Angela, you idiot!' she said, hitting him on his arm, ‘I'm talking about Sadie!'

Nick looked mystified, giving away his guilt by overdoing a bizarre grimace to indicate denial. ‘
Sadie?
' he said. ‘I can't do much about Sadie, can I? She's getting married the day after tomorrow.'

‘Er, like I know that, Nick? Duh? I'm the bridesmaid?'

‘Mark asked me to be best man, actually.'

‘He didn't! You never said!'

‘It's OK, I turned him down. I thought, like tradition has it that the best man cops off with the senior bridesmaid and I thought, nah. You're not bad for a sister but neither of us is that desperate. So he's asked . . .'

‘Who?' Delilah almost spat the word.

‘Eager, aren't we? He's asked . . .
Sam
. That good enough for you?'

Delilah shrugged and tried to look casual. ‘Yeah, I suppose. He's all right.'

‘All right!' Nick teased. ‘You were practically all over him the other night when we were out!'

‘Er, actually . . .' She didn't go on. It might not be such a good idea to point out that Sam had been all over
her
, not to her brother. You never knew with brothers – they could come over all unexpectedly boring about these things. Kelly's brother than threatened serious violence to Micky Martin in year ten who'd put it about (untruthfully) that he'd scored a BJ off Kelly down behind the school footie pavilion around Easter time. Kelly hadn't been thrilled about the brotherly concern because at the time she was working on turning the unfounded rumour into reality. The last thing Delilah needed was Nick pointing out that Sam was in his mid-twenties and she was only sixteen and that there could only be one thing he was after. Like she didn't know? She wasn't completely stupid. They'd all be going home in a few days anyway. She needed to have this maximum fun while she could, especially after being ill for so long. She deserved it. But instead he did something she'd never have expected from her brother.