Eternity (12 page)

Carlos however is all too real, in the here and now, I long to see him again, to hear his voice, to touch him every second of the day, I know I’m in too deep with him already, but I don’t care, I’m addicted to the emotional buzz he gives me, even if it only lasts three weeks I want to drink up as much of him as I can while it lasts and screw the consequences.

I decide that a spot of shopping is going to be the order of today. Throwing on a bikini then a light, paisley, polyester maxi dress, I head out. First I fill up at the breakfast bar, sampling their whole bean coffee for the first time, I must say it is delicious and along with a bacon sandwich it does wonders for the last of the lingering tummy ache that has been following me around all morning.

I head to the lobby and ask the receptionist where I can go locally, she explains that in an hour, at 9am, there is a coach trip leaving for the city and I can join them, it’s almost full but there is a couple of places left if I want to put my name down now. I accept her offer, noting the name on her badge, Mari; as I give my name she looks up smiling “Ahhh, Ms. Mavers” she says, putting my face to the name she has become used to. Outstretching my hand across the desk we shake, introducing ourselves at last “please, call me Kate” I say pleasantly to her.

“Thank you, I am Mari” she replies, the silence that follows is slightly awkward, eventually I excuse myself under the pretence of getting ready for the trip, although I have my purse so there is really nothing more I need to do.

I saunter around in the morning sun for about forty minutes before joining the group of people congregating in front of the lobby building. I make small talk with a chatty American couple, Blair and John; they are here on a second honeymoon, ten years of marriage and still as much in love as they were when they first set eyes on each other. High school sweethearts they tell me, taking it in turns to gush about their perfect love. It’s enchanting sure, but considering the recent break up of my shitty marriage I can’t help but feel they are figuratively kicking me in the face.

I give them a brief rundown of my cheating husband, broken heart and destroyed life, in the vain hope that they abandon me, for fear of my bad luck somehow rubbing off on their perfect lives; but to the contrary they immediately take me under their wing with ‘coo’s’ and chorus’s of ‘poor soul’, their unconditional sympathy so heartwarming that I find myself telling them of my own fairytale blossoming romance (leaving out the more intimate details of course).

They are quickly back to gushing, but this time about me, they seem legitimately over the moon for me, pestering me for every last detail, insisting that I join them for the day. Blair admits that John is only coming to keep her company and after a quick debate he decides to stay behind in return for me accompanying her.

As he heads back into the resort, relieved to have escaped a day of girly shopping, we discuss our plan of attack; she has been to this area before so she knows all the good spots for bargains, divulging in stories of how, on her first trip, she had paid well over the odds on some trinkets, not being so adept in haggling as she is now.

Once we are on the bus I explain that I need to find something special for Carlos and the reason why. Her eyes widen at the mention of his name “Not Carlos Johnson?” she asks surprised.

“Yes” I reply warily.

Her face lights up and she becomes impossibly excited
“
Th
e
Carlos Johnson, his parents own the resort!?” she screeches, looking around I notice some of the other passengers turning interested, towards her raised voice.

“Yes, that’s the one” I say lowering my voice in the hope that she will mirror me. “Oh my Gosh, that’s amazing, he is a hunk! What are you going to get him?” she thankfully speaks in a reduced volume.

“That’s the problem, I have no idea” I admit.

“Well that’s OK, I have plenty of ideas” she says a playful grin spreading across her lips.

I had no idea we were going so far from the resort when I signed up for the this trip; the bus comes to a shaky halt four hours later in Calle Virgilio a quaint little shopping area with narrow winding streets. We all disembark and no sooner than my feet hit the pavement, Blair has grabbed my hand and is dragging me off towards one of the side alleys leading away from the main square. “It’s just down here” she says weaving me through little back streets, practically colliding with every other pedestrian we cross, in a mad dash to whatever “it” is.

She stops abruptly causing me to bang into her with force, unaware she was no longer moving until it was too late. We start giggling, her vivacious nature is catching, you just can’t help but be happy when you’re near her.

Turning to look at where we have arrived, my gaze is met by a tiny boutique, the window chocked full of lacy bodices and frilly knickers.

I stare at Blair open mouthed, her wide cheeky grin making her eyes sparkle. “Blair! This is your idea?” I asked shocked, I would never have thought of her as risqué.

“Come on” she says pulling me in. Once inside she sparks up a flamboyant conversation in Spanish with the sales assistant, waving her hands around dramatically emphasising her point.

The sales assistant nods along, ‘mmmm’ing’ and ‘ahhh’ing’ intermittently, before turning towards me. I feel like a rabbit caught in headlights, I did not understand a word they said and now they are surveying me with knowing looks, pointing out parts of me amongst foreign comments and nodding in agreement with each other.

Suddenly she turns on her heel and scuttles into the back room. Blair is jumping up and down on the spot clapping her hands, “what are you doing?” I ask, “what is she getting?”

Blair gives me a wink, “just you wait and see!” she says cryptically.

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish, very impressive” I say to keep my mind off the impending ‘surprise’ she has in store for me.

“Spanish, French, Italian, a little German, I just love the European languages, they simply roll off your tongue, it’s a pleasure to speak them” she says playing down her obvious talents; I never would have had her pegged as a linguist, she is full of surprises.

Out of nowhere the Sales assistant re-appears clutching something small and red, thrusting it towards me she ushers me into a small dressing room and closes the curtain behind me. “Come out and show us when you’ve got it on” Blair commands from the other side of the curtain.

Now I’m alone I look at the sexy little number in my hand. It is a deep red corset, with a ruffle of black lace stitched around the top and bottom; it is teamed with a pair of satin panties in the same shade of red, off the bottom of the corset hangs four straps which clip onto the top of black stockings.

Tugging it on I spend a considerable amount of time hitching my boobs into place, to begin with they were practically up around my ears, but after some stuffing and re-adjusting how tight the corset is I’m finally happy. I have to admit its divine, hand sewn with care, it fits like a very snug glove; synching in my waist, flattening my stomach and magnifying my cleavage. I love it.

“Are you done yet?” comes Blair’s impatient voice, “you’re taking forever!” she whines.

“I’m done” I say as I draw back the curtain, standing on tip toes to mimic the heels I would wear with this and giving her my best bedroom pout. She’s screeching again, this girl sure loves to scream when she’s happy!

“Oh my gosh, it’s perfect! Don’t you think?” she squeals at me.

“It kinda is” I laugh back.

At the checkout I brace myself for the price, “one thousand and fifty peso” Blair translates for me, from a rough calculation I work it out at being around £50, that’s not bad, as I reach for my purse Blair puts a hand on my arm “no, no, no you never pay the first price” she explains. Turning back to the woman she starts bantering with her. I catch the some of the prices she offers, 300peso, countered with 800 I think, after that they get faster and I lose any handle on the conversation. Finally they settle, Blair turns back to me “six hundred and twenty five” she states, my mouth drops £30! That is a fraction of what this would cost back home, it seems so mean to pay so little when I could easily have afforded the full asking price, but when I look up at the sales assistant she is smiling, seemingly happy with the arrangement; shaking my head in disbelief I hand over the cash, carefully removing it from my purse so not to flaunt the 4000 peso I have on me.

We leave the boutique arm in arm, me and my new best friend, you just can’t help but love Blair.

“I’m starving” she announces, “I know this wonderful little Italian restaurant just five minutes away” She leads me back in to the more mainstream streets towards Parque Lincoln, near one of the main shopping districts of Mexico City.

Just off the main road we reach Prego Ristorante, it doesn’t look like anything special, but after the unexpected long haul on the coach and then prancing around as a lingerie model, I am in desperate need of some carbs and there’s no better place for that than an Italian restaurant.

Inside it’s nice enough, numerous small, slightly rickety tables, laden with white tablecloths and vases of plastic flowers to spruce them up. They are framed with simple wooden chairs, which do the job, but fail to add any flare; there are exposed varnished beams across the ceiling and the walls are roughly plastered then painted a sandy yellow, with various Mexican looking wall hangings and paintings, no doubt to appeal to the tourists.

We are seated in a quiet corner, there are a few people milling about, but it’s not packed out by any means.

Blair suggests we share an antipasti platter of cured meats, olives, mozzarella and assorted breads; every piece is a burst of flavour, somehow so much more than the same things in England. We polish it off with ease, taking it in turns to talk about my plan of attack when Carlos returns.

For my main I go for a simple pasta dish with an abundance of cream, cheese, onion and white truffle or more romanticall
y
‘Tagliatelle Alfredo e Tartufo Nero
’
as it states on the menu, it’s going to take one hell of a gym session to work that bad boy off but it was worth every minute. The pasta is homemade and cooked al dente, while the creamy sauce melts in your mouth, creating a dining experience that is nothing short of orgasmic. 

Blair opts for lasagne and a huge side salad, I have no idea how she maintains her tiny figure, chowing down like that, she all but licks the plate once she’s finished.

We pass on desert both now slumped back in our chairs bloated and happy, Blair orders two espresso’s explaining we still have a lot of shops to see before we board the bus again at 18.00. It’s going to be one long day!

We wander through the park after lunch admiring the art, the sculptures are striking but yet complimenting to the landscape. Next we head to Polanco, there are various market stalls selling handcrafted fares, painted bowls and decorative blown glass. Blair explains that it is all made by local poorer families, the prices are quite high by Mexico standards, but they are all open to a little soft bargaining; she suggests starting at about 20% under the asking price and avoiding the more hard sell approach she demonstrated earlier.

I’m glad Blair is with me as the locals really put the pressure on you, but she takes none of it, powering on through and only stopping for potential purchases. We pick up a few token gifts for friends and family back home; I mostly wait until Blair is caught up in debate with one of the stall holders, before sneakily paying full price for my pieces, I’m just not cut out for haggling with people that really need all they can get.

We spend the last hour popping into as many of the main street jewellery and clothes shops as we can, I’m starting to flag, but each purchase just spurs Blair on to the next, her ability to spend money is second to none.

We arrive back at the coach at ten to six licking the ice-creams we picked up on route back. Laden with bags, Blair more so than me, we are relieved to finally take a load off, even if it is for a four hour coach journey back.

We spend the time re-examining everything we bought, complimenting each others tastes, it was a great day but I’m so glad it’s over now, Blair however can’t wait to drag John out here on the same trip in a few days; he will be bitterly disappointed that he has not in fact got away with avoiding this, I think to myself.

Blair is so over excited about my next date with Carlos, she practically invites herself along, already desperate to know what his reaction will be to my saucy new outfit. She starts making possible shocked faces he might sport, from a wide eyed jaw drop, to a leery grin accompanied with groping hand movements in front of my breasts, sending us into fits of giggles.

“He will not be like that” I laugh at her.

“You never know, it might be enough to send him to the dark side of letchy men” she warns.

“Well now you mention it…..” I sarcastically humour her, earning me a playful jab in the ribs with her elbow.

We eventually roll up at the resort at about half past ten, my arms and legs ache from schlepping around shops with heavy bags all day and my face and chest hurt from laughing non stop, Blair has an uncanny ability to make you feel ten years younger, right up until your body collapses and reminds you that you are in fact as old as you feel!