Clouds Below the Mountains (19 page)

“No, we didn't,” said Kate unsmilingly, suddenly feeling irritated. “I'm sorry Stan, Brenda, we really must be going now. Evan is really in need of a nap.”

“Then we'll see you at our hotel then, we're usually around the pool about two-ish. Oh, by the way

Greg, what happened to your son? Andy, wasn't it. Didn't you say he was batting for the other side now?”

***

Jenni and Miguel walked hand in hand, around the headland from Playa del Duque towards the more built up area of Torviscas. They had spent the time talking about their families, whilst watching the many ships that sailed out of Puerto Colon harbour. Miguel though, had been apt to play down his rather wealthy background, saying that the property company his father had built up over the years was nothing special. His father had been in the right place at the right time, when he was striking his property deals. “But what are you doing working as a waiter?” Jenni had asked in amazement, when Miguel had let it slip that his parents had a Filipino couple working as maid and gardener at his home, a pleasant villa in hilly Nerja.

“One day in the not too distant future, I will be called upon to take over my father's business,” he had said seriously. “I decided to see a bit more of the world, although we have had holidays in many countries over the years, I wanted to go alone and see what it is like to live independent. I must say that working for a living is much harder, I think, than having a silver spoon put on a golden plate.”

Jenni had giggled at his use of words, but understood the gist of it. She had learnt that Miguel had been sent to a very exclusive school in Barcelona, along with a term at an English language school in Brighton. She understood then, why he spoke English so well.

What a difference though in their life styles. She had felt quite poor when she had told him of the terrace house she had grown up in Bolton, her parents divorce when she was small and the fact that her mother had a part time job as a school cleaner. “My father has a good job though,” she had informed Miguel, trying to talk up her pride. “ He's an electrician and has a nice three bedroom detached house in Harwood and drives a really nice car.”

Miguel had wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek, wishing that he'd kept his mouth shut about his family. He had felt her dismay, when learning that their backgrounds, were poles apart from each others.

***

“Don't talk to me, this isn't the time or the place,” snapped Kate, as the family fled along the promenade away from Stan and Brenda. “I don't want to listen. I'm on holiday and that is that as far as I'm concerned.”

“But Mum,” cried Sonya, as she jogged along breathlessly behind her parents with Evan in her arms. “But Mum, what about Andy? Don't you think we should talk about my brother sometime?”

Kate stopped in her tracks and glared first at Sonya and then at Greg. “Is this the place to do it? In the middle of crowds of holiday makers, after some insensitive couple turn our lives upside down again?”

Greg put his arm around her shoulders, as angry tears began to well up in his wife's eyes. “Yes, you're right Kate, let's just calm down, have our lunch then we'll sit out by the pool and talk. Perhaps we could put Evan in the Kid's club for an hour?”

Sonya nodded. Perhaps a talk would clear the air. It had been like living on a knife edge at home since their holiday in Cyprus last October. Everything had been brushed under the carpet and as far as she was concerned, she wanted it brushing out again.

Kate fumed to herself silently as they hurried along back to the hotel, while Greg carried a whingeing Evan, who could feel the tension in the people he loved. Sonya was feeling annoyed, that the stupid couple they had just met could cause such discord between her parents. Her father looked tightlipped and drawn, suggesting to her that he too was finding the situation hard to handle.

“I don't want to do this,” said Kate abruptly,sounding at the end of her tether as they walked into the porticoed reception foyer. “I want to go back home. I've had enough of all this pretense that everything in the garden is rosy. We'll get a separation and I'll find a place of my own.”

“Mum,” cried Sonya horrified, while Greg looked dumbstruck at his wife's bitter words.

“I mean it,” said Kate, “I'm fed up of walking on egg shells with both of you. I've tried my best for you Sonya, by looking after Evan while you go out to work. I've tried to keep a pleasant home for you to live in, Greg and tried to block out the fact that my son doesn't give two hoots for me and what do I get out of it? Nothing, just a couple of weeks holiday and I can't even get some peace then.”

“Kate, you've had a shock, meeting that couple has knocked the wind out of you,” said Greg urgently. “Sonya, take Evan and get him something to eat, while me and your mother sit out on the patio. I'll get you a gin and tonic, Kate. You'll feel better in a little while, I promise you.”

He propelled his wife to a chair near the pool bar and summoned a waitress to take his order.

“Listen Kate,” he said quietly, once their drinks had been put on the table. “You can't just take off back home, just because of some ignoramus's throw away comments. We have to meet our problems full on, like we always have in all our years of marriage.”

“Like you did in Cyprus?” Kate replied, looking at her husband scornfully. “You didn't listen to anything I had to say, did you, just packed your bags and wanted to fly back to England the very next day?”

“That was different, Kate. You wanted to spend all that money on a property out there, which we probably would have only stayed in a couple of times a year. I told you time and time again that it wasn't economical, but you wouldn't listen, went ahead and nearly got us signed up to a whole load of headaches.”

“It was meant to be my bolt hole. I could have spent time on my own and got my head around things that weren't meant to have happened in our marriage.”

“Well, they have happened Kate and we have to deal with them. You made your choice last November anyway. You could have stayed there in Cyprus if you'd wanted to, but you chose to come home to look after the family. Don't you think that I've had to make sacrifices in my life as well?”

“I suppose,” said Kate grudgingly. “Though it's more difficult for me, you know, with being Andrew's mother?”

“Ah, so we're talking about our son now, not what happened in Cyprus. The fact that he's no longer in touch with you, or the fact that he might be gay, or the fact that Stan mentioned something that you knew nothing about?”

“All of it,” Kate said.

***

“Well, that was a very pleasant trip out, if I do say it myself,” said Paul, as he parked the Espace in the hotel car park.

“Even if we did get nearly lost in all that fog, Daddy,” commented Annabelle seriously.

“Yes, Poppet, even that. We found our way eventually.”

“It was because Mummy had the map instead of me,” his daughter continued.

“No, Darling, it was because the mist over the mountains hadn't cleared as we were travelling upwards. We were on the correct route all the time,” said Cheryl firmly.

“Well, never mind that,” said Paul hastily. “Why don't we go and sit by the pool and get some cooling drinks inside us? I don't know about you, but three cans of coke between the four of us in that lunch box, didn't seem to go very far.”

“Nor did the sandwiches, Daddy,” said Annabelle. “Do you think I could have a hot dog now?”

***

“You should have come with us,” said Paul to Kate and Greg, as he and his family joined the couple at the table by the pool bar. Funnily enough, Kate and Greg hadn't seemed very pleased to see them, though they must have been dying to know how the trip to Mount Teide had gone.

“The Espace was a dream to drive through all that rugged landscape. It was like travelling across what I would imagine, is similar to the surface of the moon,” Paul said, warming to his role of travel guide. “Do you know that Mount Teide is Spain's highest mountain, it's over twelve thousand feet high and the views, well, they were spectacular? We took a cable car right up to the summit and we could see all over Tenerife and across to all the other islands too.”

“Daddy bought me a pair of binoculars,” said Annabelle, “ and I could see for ever. Daddy, you

promised me a hot dog and Jack is wanting one as well.”

“Excuse me a moment,” said Paul. “Does anyone else want something while I'm up? Kate, Greg, Cheryl?”

“Didn't you find it rather chilly up there, Cheryl?,” asked Kate politely, while Paul was putting in his order at the pool bar. “I would have thought that at such a height the air would have been rather cold.”

“It was,” Cheryl replied, “ but luckily I had the foresight to put in our fleeces and a sweater each, so when we started going over snow we didn't get frostbite. I have to say though, that my favourite part of the trip was through the pine forests. Seeing the volcano still smoking was a bit daunting to say the least.”

“The volcano last erupted at the beginning of the twentieth century,” Annabelle said with relish.

“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.

“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?”