Eternity (28 page)

I’m still feeling a little woozy from the cocktails we had on the beach, the other jug is sat on the bedside table staring at me. The blue liquid which was once a fruity, exotic beverage, now tastes sickly sweet and makes my stomach churn.

Walking over, I pick it up and dispose of it down the sink in the bathroom, turning the immaculate white bowl the colour of the sky for an instant before it drains away.

What now? The room only offers so much entertainment and if I’m leaving tomorrow I want to make the most of the sun while I’ve still got the chance. I’m not in the mood for the Jacuzzi, it will only make me think about last time I was in there, which in turn will only make me think of Carlos, not that I’m able to stop thinking about him now.

I pick up my book, the one I thought I’d never get a chance to read, and head for the hammock; the golden afternoon sun is still soaking the balcony and this way I can bask in it, but still hear the phone if Carlos does call. God I hope he calls.

My book is a crime novel, perfect to get stuck into and take my mind off it, the characters are sure to be having a worse time of it than me. Opening the first page I’m showered with paper as all Carlos’s notes to me come flooding out. I shouldn’t start re-reading them, but I can’t help myself; I find myself staring at his charming words, tracing my fingers around the curve of each letter he penned.

How can someone so caring be so quick to dismiss his feelings? Did I really mean so little to him that he can just cut me out like this? A familiar dull ache forms in my chest, pressing down on my heart, why hasn’t he called? Surely he would at least want to say goodbye, even if it is over, don’t I deserve a farewell, no hard feelings, sorry it didn’t work out. Anything would be better than this silence.

Glancing at my watch, it’s ten past five, that’s an hour and a half since Blair left to find him; I suppose it’s possible that he has not had the letter that long and is just thinking on what to do.

This is torture! Picking up the phone I call Blair’s room.

“Hey, did you find him?” I ask as soon as she answers.

“Yeah, I gave him your letter about an hour ago, hasn’t he called?”

“No.”

“He was a bit annoyed that you were having a laugh with me, but I told him not to be stupid, you’d been depressed and pining after him all day and it was just bad timing that he saw us when he did.”

“What did he say to that?” I ask desperately hoping it was enough to re-assure him.

“He just sort of shrugged and walked off, but don’t worry as soon as he reads it I’m sure he will come around, you know what men are like” she tries to settle my distress.

“Yeah I do, that’s the problem.”

Minutes turn to hours and hours lead into the night, its 2am before I accept the fact that he’s not going to call. I’ve bitten my nails half to death with the suspense, but I finally have to admit it’s not going to happen, there’s going to be no happy ever after for us.

The sun rises on my last day, waking me instantly from a disturbed sleep. It’s only 6am but I know attempting to get any more rest will be futile. I’m mentally and now physically exhausted, at least my suitcase is already packed from leaving Carlos’s, all I have to do is chuck in my toiletries and I’m ready to go.

Ready to go, it sounds like a cheerful expression, ready to face the world, ready to have an adventure; it says nothing for my situation, ready to admit defeat and return to gloomy England in even more of a dark place than I left.

Caz had warned me about this, coming home worse off than before, but I couldn’t help it, truth be told I didn’t want to; if it hadn’t ended so badly, it would have been just what I needed. A refreshing change to help me forget all about Jake and realise that there are plenty more fish in the sea; so it all fell apart and damaged me further, so what? In hindsight, if I was given the chance to do it all over, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well no that’s not entirely true, I would never have spoken to Marcus; what is that guy’s problem? If I weren’t so drained by the last couple of days I’d march round there and give him another piece of my mind.

How messed up do you have to be to destroy your own brothers life, twice, without even knowing anything about it. I know that last time was different, worse, if that’s even possible, but still; what kind of person rocks up out the blue, just to put an end to a relationship? He tried to make out like he was doing it to protect Carlos, but he’s done nothing but hurt him and all for no reason. I didn’t even know about the money till I was already involved, not to mention that I have plenty of my own; it was truly the last thing on my mind when we got together.

Even if he had nothing it wouldn’t change the way I feel about him.

Time is slowly ticking by, my book lays open but unread on my lap as my mind whirrs frantically, searching for an answer to solve this catastrophe.

The later it gets the more nauseas I become. He still hasn’t called. I need to call reception to book me a taxi to the airport, but I’m still clinging on to the hope that he will come bursting in and take me into his arms, desperately apologising for his mistake and swearing he will never leave me again.

I’m kidding myself, he’s had all night to dwell on it, so if he hasn’t done anything by now, he’s just not going to.

Reluctantly I pick up the phone, ringing reception and getting Mari of all people.

“Hi Mari, can you book me a taxi to the airport, I need to leave at about 15.00 today” I jump straight in, there’s no point in skirting the issue.

“You are leaving?” she asks surprised, but does not specifically question as to why.

“Yes I am” I reply without elaborating.

She pauses, clearly hoping I will give a reason, but finally agrees “Yes Miss Mavers, I do it now for you”

I thank her and end the call before she gets the courage to ask.

Right, I have just under eight hours before I go, I still need to say goodbye to Blair and John and get a few more presents for everyone at home from the gift shop, but then that’s that and I’ll be on my way.

I take one final luxurious shower then pack up the last of my things. Dressing in comfy airplane clothes, white linen trousers, a sky blue vest top and flip flops. I leave a light cardigan out for later incase it’s cold in the airport and then scrunch my wet hair up in a bun and head out. 

I find Blair just leaving her apartment, “I was just coming to find you” she says with a look of concern on her face, “I take it from your expression that he still hasn’t called?”

“Nope” I say dejectedly, “I was just coming to say bye to you guys, I’m leaving at 15.00”

“Oh Kate” she sighs, wrapping me up in a bear hug, “I’m going to miss you” As she pulls away I can see her well up, I haven’t seen Blair cry and I can’t say I had expected her to.

“It’s OK, we’ll keep in touch” I re-assure her, “I’d love for you and John to come and visit me in England sometime”

“We’d love that too” she says, answering for them both.

She wipes the tears from her face and follows me to the shop, explaining that helping me buy things will cheer her up.

As it goes she buys more than I do, swearing blind that she will really use Mexican wall hangings and glass bowls in her home and they won’t just get put in a cupboard never again to see the light of day.

I pick up a pair of pearl earrings for my mum and a shot glass for my dad as he collects them, but does not yet have a Mexican one.

I grab a couple of stuffed toys with the name of the resort on for Caz’s kids and some of the decorative glass wear and a bottle of rum for Caz and Phil. I’m not convinced the rum has any obvious Mexican connection, but they like it and it’s expensive; either its good stuff, or I’ve just been ripped off; either way, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the thought.

We head back and find John so I can give him a proper goodbye, to my surprise he wells up too, his voice cracking as he demands I come and visit them before the year is out. i promise I will and thank him for lending me Blair so many times, “No thank you, for taking her off my hands” he jokes, having composed himself.

We decide to go for one last long leisurely lunch, to make the most of the three hours I have left with them. We choose the Mexican restaurant as it seems most fitting and order practically everything on the menu. I refuse the wine, leaving them both with looks of astonishment, before I explain that I don’t want to be tipsy of hung over for that matter, when I have an eight hour plane ride ahead of me. They nod understandingly but not before a valiant effort to persuade me into it with a chorus of, it’s my last day of holiday, how often will I get to be drunk at lunch once I’m home, if you can’t do it now when can you and so on.

It’s a wonderful way to spend the afternoon, eating and chatting to two wonderful people on decking in the sunshine, looking out over the beach. It’s so perfect I actually forget everything else for at least an hour, making me question my decision; have I acted in haste, should I stay? If I do stay, maybe with more time Carlos might still come round, but if I go home, I’m out of sight, out of mind.

I may have made a terrible mistake.

I don’t voice my concerns, I’ve been up and down all over the place these last two days, so I don’t want to get their hopes up, only to change my mind once again. And anyway, I’ve re-booked the flight which was costly and the taxi is booked, the hotel knows I’m going, so it may not even be possible to stay on now; even if it was the hassle and expense to change it all again barely seems worth it, for a faint possibility of reconciling with Carlos. I’m clinging on to false hope again, I need to just cut my loses and go home.

Today is lovely because I’m in a beautiful place, with wonderful people who are making a special effort because this is my last day. Logically if I was to stay another week, it would not be like this every day; there would be days when I’d be alone and all the classes and day trips in the world can’t change the reality that I am on my own out here. That’s bad enough at the best of time, but if you load on a huge helping of missing Carlos and knowing he hates me, you are left with a recipe for savage depression.

No, I made the right choice, I need to be back with my friends and family, in my own safe environment, throwing myself back into my work and moving house to block any unpleasant thoughts from my head; before I know it I will have forgotten all about it, I hope.

The afternoon flies by and before I know it, its 14.30 and time to go. Blair and John escort my to the lobby, a bell boy has already collected my suitcase and deposited it outside ready for the taxi. At the desk I check with Mari if there have been any messages left while I was out and she confirms that my hopes have been in vain. Her eyes still hold a multitude of questions but she simply wishes me a safe journey home and reaches over the desk to squeeze my hand briefly as she does, as if with an unspoken understanding.

Standing outside waiting for the taxi Blair takes my hand, placing a tiny heart shaped pink gem in it, “I bought this for my friend back home, it’s meant to bring love to the person who has it, I think after everything you’ve been through, you deserve it” she says closing my fingers around the semi-precious stone.

“Thank you” I croak, fighting back the tears. In the last three months I think I’ve cried more than I have in my whole life put together, it can only mean I’m due some good times, well overdue in fact.

As the taxi pulls up we all hug once more, I let the tears flow freely now, under the pretence of leaving my two good friends, but secretly I’m mourning the loss of Carlos, there’s no possible way I can deny it any longer, he has left me.

Taking one more longing look back at the resort, I climb into the taxi without any sign of Carlos running over to stop me and wave my silent goodbyes out of the back window as we drive away.

I keep waving until they have long since disappeared from view, then slouch into the seat and weep silently into my hands.

We arrive in good time, leaving me a good two hours sitting around the airport before my flight.

After checking in I mindlessly wander around the duty free shops, picking up perfumes and alcohol that I have no want or need for, before finally finding a quiet corner near my boarding gate, where I can be alone in my misery. The minutes drag by, each agonising one reminding me of what I’ve lost and reinforcing the fact that I will never get it back, it’s excruciating.

By the time my flight is called my eyes sting and my face is red and puffy, but I’m beyond caring, I am an emotional wreck, so why shouldn’t I look it.

I wait for almost everyone to board before forcing myself up and walking over, dragging my feet and barely even raising my head as I hand over my ticket.

I bet their trying to suss me out, is there something wrong with me, or am I in this much of a state because I plan on taking the plane down and killing us all, you can see the concern etched over their faces. I try and fail to give them a re-assuring smile, instead only managing a lopsided grimace, only frightening them all the more.

The two stewards whisper something in Spanish to each other before asking me to wait for a moment and calling through to what I suspect is the security team, all the while scrutinising my passport photo before studying my mess of a face.