The Holiday (39 page)

‘Hey, cut yourself some slack. It’s my problem, not yours.’

‘But it must be so awful for you in these situations.’

‘Judging from the look on your face, it’s worse for those who think they’ve put their foot in it.’

‘So what can I get you? Coke? Fruit juice? Water? You’re smiling. What’s wrong? Have I said something stupid again?’

‘Private joke. Some fizzy water would be fine. And when you come back, you can give me a run-down on everybody here and warn me of anyone I need to give a wide berth. Or should I come with you to keep you safe from whoever it is who’s been bothering you?’

Seeing that Corky was now chatting to Adrian Patterson, she said, ‘No, stay here, it looks as if I’ll be okay for a while.’

Mark watched her go, then turned to look across the water towards the twinkling lights of Albania and congratulated himself on having made it. While it was nowhere near as bad, he was reminded of his first AA meeting. It had taken all his courage to walk through that door that night and take his seat among the group, and he had had to employ the same sort of determination to get himself here tonight.

And it wasn’t just about proving Theo wrong — though a bet was a bet, and this was one that he had clearly won - it had been more about convincing himself that he could change his life if he so wished. Once he had made the decision to be sociable, he had realised that he was looking forward to seeing Izzy again. He hadn’t seen her since he had been so absorbed in his writing, and although he had spent great chunks of time with her in his imagination, he had missed the real Izzy, especially their chats down on the beach. As he waited for her to come back with his drink, he found himself thinking that she was the first woman he had ever bothered to get to know.

Women ... friend or foe?
Bones had once asked.

Well, the answer in this case was unequivocal: he viewed Izzy as a friend.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned round expectantly, assuming it would be Izzy. But it wasn’t. It was Dolly-Babe, dressed up as the Queen of Spandex, and she was heading straight for him. Oh, Lord, it was true, there really was no peace for the wicked. Not for him anyway.

There was nowhere for him to hide, so he braced himself for another assault on his patience, which, as Theo would be only too quick to mention, was an attribute he didn’t have in abundance. She sidled in very close, a skinny freckled arm reaching out to him. For a brief moment he felt the full weight of her — such as it was — as she steadied herself against him and slopped wine down the front of his shirt.

‘Aha, Mr St James. I have a confession to make.’ Her face, unlike her pale arms, was flushed and glowing, and her extraordinary hair looked as though it was on the verge of a landslide.

‘Really?’ Oh, great!

‘Yes. I had no idea who you were until a few days ago.’ She wagged a finger at him.

Looking at her unfocused eyes, he wondered if she was seeing two of him.

‘But, you know, you could have said something.’

He edged discreetly away from her. ‘I stand corrected,’ he said, ‘fully rebuked.’

She laughed loudly, and moved towards him again. ‘But I always suspected that there was something, well, a bit different about you.’

‘In what way?’

‘You’re like me, you see what’s going on.’ She gave a comically theatrical swivel of her eyes. ‘You feel it, don’t you? That’s why you’re a writer. You channel your powers into your books.’

It was tempting to enquire in which direction she thought her powers were channelled, but he refrained from doing so. It was child’s play to make fun of somebody like Dolly-Babe.

‘Any more news from your psychic friend back home?’ he asked pleasantly. ‘Looks as though she got it right about the party, didn’t she?’

Her face lit up, which made him feel all the more sorry for her: how easily pleased she was. ‘Ria’s a gem,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without her. But you know what? My horoscope said something interesting today — except it was for yesterday, seeing that we get the papers a day late. I’m a Gemini. What star sign are you?’

‘Aquarius.’

‘I knew it! I just knew you had to be Aquarius.’

‘Any reason why?’

She beamed a wide, garishly pink smile at him. ‘It’s obvious, darlin’. Aquarians are original, independent and creative. As a writer, that must be you to a T. Now, listen to this and tell me what you think. My horoscope said I’ve got to get out of the rut I’ve made for myself. “Why wait for fate to take its course?” was what it said.‘ She drained her glass of wine in a long, thirsty swig. ‘What do you think it means?’

That you need to cut back on your drinking, was the answer screaming inside his head, but Mark knew better than anyone that a comment like that would only have Dolly-Babe reaching for another drink of denial. And talking of drinks, where was Izzy with his water? He looked over Dolly-Babe’s shoulder and saw, to his relief, Izzy coming towards them.

‘Sorry I was so long,’ she said, giving him his glass and smiling at Dolly-Babe, ‘but I was intercepted. Everyone’s talking about our new neighbours.’

‘Oh, who are they?’ asked Mark.

Dolly-Babe’s eyes flashed with a fury that seemed quite out of place. ‘Don’t ask, it’s too awful for words. The thought of that poor boy and that shameless woman makes my blood boil. And don’t go giving me that argument that it’s every young boy’s fantasy to be seduced by an older woman. It’s not natural. She’s taking advantage of him. He’s nothing but a child.’ She shuddered.

Sharing a look of surprise with Mark at the vehemence behind Dolly-Babe’s words, Izzy said, ‘Have you been following the story in the papers about the mother of two running off with her teenage lover?’

‘On and off.’

‘Well, they’re here in Ayios Nikólaos.’

‘And staying in the villa next door to us!’ cut in Dolly-Babe. ‘I’ve a good mind to ring the papers myself and tell them where that dreadful woman is. She needs shooting, she does.’ She raised her glass to her lips, saw that it was empty, and added, in a voice that sounded alarmingly bitter, ‘I need a refill.’

They watched her move with exaggerated care through the chairs, tables and guests on the terrace. ‘You know, I can’t help feeling sorry for her,’ said Izzy.

‘I was thinking much the same myself a few moments ago.’

‘You were?’

‘Don’t sound so thunderstruck. Didn’t you have me down as the understanding, sensitive type?’

She looked at him hard. ‘Not quite. I imagined you would be more interested in casting her as a victim in one of your novels — the ageing woman strangled by her blonde hair attachments, her long nails ripped off, her high heels — ’

‘Then you’ve got me all wrong. I choose my victims with much more care and thought.’

‘So why do you suppose she’s taking the moral high ground on the runaway lovers? I would have expected her to take the stance of more power to middle-aged women like herself.’

‘I doubt that she sees herself as middle-aged. Show me a man or woman who claims they don’t give a damn about growing old and I’ll show you a liar.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘That’s because you’re fortunate enough still to have youth and beauty on your side.’

She smiled. ‘You know that she’s come as Hebe, don’t you?’ Then, casting an eye over his jeans and denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, she said, ‘You’re going to have to help me out with your costume. It’s so subtle I must be missing it.’

He stood back from her, so she could see him better. ‘I’m in disguise. Go on, guess which god I am.’

‘Any clues?’

‘Go for irony.’

‘Mr Grecian 2000?’

‘Do you mind? The hair’s pure Bobby Shaftoe, not a wisp of grey. Try again.’

‘Mm ... Hercules?’

‘And why would that be ironic? Don’t you see me as a heroic hunk of masculinity?’

‘Well, if you don’t want me to insult you further, you’d better tell me who you’re supposed to be.’

‘I’m disappointed in you. I thought I could rely on you of all people. I’m Dionysus, god of wine. Who else could I possibly come as?’

In the far reaches of his mind, he heard Bones saying, ‘It’s always the same with you, Mark, isn’t it? Go ahead, just throw another log of irony on the fire of your wretchedness.’ And seeing that she didn’t know what to say, and that the joke had fallen flat on its face, he said, ‘It’s a funny old thing, but we’re a nation that simply doesn’t cut the mustard when it comes to laughing at the afflicted.’

‘It does leave us rather stranded.’

‘But laughing at oneself is sometimes the best medicine of all.’

‘When you were an alcoholic, could you laugh at yourself?’

Disconcerted by her directness, he took a thoughtful sip of his mineral water. ‘No. In those days I wasn’t capable of finding anything remotely funny.’

A sudden burst of loud bouzoúki music coming from behind them made them turn towards the villa, where on the veranda a space had been cleared and Angelos and Sophia were teaching Max and Laura some fancy Greek dancing; Laura had the hang of it, but Max was all over the place.

‘Just as well you decided to join us here tonight,’ said Izzy, ‘or the noise would have disturbed you horribly. What made you come?’

Again he was surprised by her candour. ‘Because I was invited.’

‘You’ve turned down other invitations from Max and Laura. Why did you accept this one, and without Theo to hold your hand?’

‘Goodness, you certainly know how to make a guy feel welcome, don’t you?’

She smiled. ‘Sorry, it’s my curious nature getting the better of me. None of us expected you to come on your own.’

‘Well, tell you what, help me become invisible and I’ll think about satisfying that appalling curiosity of yours.’

‘Invisible?’

‘Her glass suitably refilled, Dolly-Babe is heading in our direction and, as sympathetic as I am towards her problems, I’m not in the mood to waste an entire evening on her. Fancy a walk on the beach?’

They slipped away unnoticed, but when Mark realised that Izzy’s ankle still wasn’t strong enough to negotiate the steep path at any real speed, he said, ‘Theo would kill me with his bare hands if you hurt yourself again in my company, so there’s nothing else for it, I’ll have to carry you.’

‘There’s no need, I can manage. Really, I can.’ Ignoring her, he swung her off her feet and resumed their descent. ‘Hold on tight, and no laughing. I said no laughing, Izzy! Don’t you ever do as you’re told?’

‘Oh, all the time, just not when I’m with you.’

‘Dear God, you’re enough to drive a man to drink!’

‘That’s not funny, Mark.’

‘Then behave yourself and stop wriggling, or you’ll have my downfall on your conscience.’

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a cruel and heartless man?’

‘No, they wouldn’t dare.’

They carried on down the hill in silence, the lively music from the villa growing more distant with every step.

‘Mark?’

‘Yes.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but what made you become an alcoholic?’

He tightened his grip on her. ‘You make it sound like a career choice. And you’re right, it is none of your business.’

Another silence passed between them.

‘I’m sorry. Was that a question too far?’

‘Yes. What’s got into you? You’re not normally this nosy.’

‘It’s reading your novels. They’ve set me thinking. Made me wonder about the real you.’

‘Well, don’t bother. I’ll give you fair warning, no good will come of it. Now, what d’yer know? We’ve made it in one piece.’ He lowered her to the stones, faced the water’s edge, and stretched out his arms dramatically. ‘For your special delectation, Miss Jordan, I give you a romantically deserted moonlit beach. And a broken man into the bargain.’ He rubbed his back meaningfully.

‘But just think, you’ve got the return journey to look forward to.’

He groaned. ‘Nothing else for it, I’ll have to send for reinforcements.’

‘Now, what was that you were saying about Hercules?’

‘Hey, nice try, little lady, but if you want that kind of man, you’re banging on the wrong door. I don’t do heroics. Definitely not my call.’

‘That’s not what Theo says.’

‘Oh, yes? And what has the mentally challenged Mr Theodore Vlamakis been saying about me?’

‘He said you saved his life.’

‘Did he now?’

‘And did you?’

He frowned and rolled up one of his sleeves, which had come unfurled with all the exertion. ‘Theo loves to exaggerate these things. It’s the Greek way. Come on, let’s walk. That’s if your ankle’s okay?’

‘It’s fine. And in case you’re worried, I can manage the path perfectly well on my own. I just have to take it slowly.’

He smiled. ‘Now you tell me.’

When they had got as far as the rocky outcrop, she said, ‘Theo told me you were very brave to do what you did.’

‘My, but you’re a persistent little soul, aren’t you?’

‘No, just plain old-fashioned nosy.’

‘So if I spin you a yarn of what a wonderfully brave chap I am, will you promise to shut up?’

‘Hand on heart.’

‘Okay, then, sit yourself down and when you’re comfortable, I’ll begin.’ He settled beside her on the rock where they had first met. The tide was high, and the barely moving water was lapping softly at the stones beneath them. ‘Now, what do you want to know first? Why I wasted a huge chunk of my life on drink, or why it was so easy for me to take on two thugs who were kicking the hell out of somebody I scarcely knew?’

‘Um ... you decide. You’re the story-teller.’

‘Okay. Here we go. Once upon a time, there was a small boy called Mark. There was nothing remotely unusual about him, he was pretty much your bog standard normal kid. Not particularly bright. Not particularly stupid. His parents were kind and loving, and he had two brothers who never gave him a moment’s trouble, apart from being a lot smarter than he was, but, hey, you can’t have everything. One day everything changed. At the age of twelve, Mark’s best friend died and because he blamed himself, he turned into a monster who took out his anger and confused self-loathing on anyone within spitting distance. Especially his bewildered parents. Time passed and, much against the odds, he worked hard enough at school to get himself to college where he met a flash Greek upstart who represented everything this angry young man despised. You could say it was hate at first sight. Then, one very cold wintry night, he came across the aforementioned flash Greek upstart lying on the ground having his face rearranged by two lads who were interested in a redistribution of the contents of his wallet. With nearly a decade of anger stored up in this one skinny frame - a physique that never did improve with age, I might say - violence held no fear for our boy. Not even from a knife-wielding thug who stabbed him for his trouble.’ He paused. ‘You will say if I’m boring you, won’t you?’