Wish You Were Here (18 page)

‘So who's looking after your daughter now?'

‘Her dad. He's a teacher. We're not together any more.' She paused and then added: ‘These things happen, don't they?'

‘Yeah,' I replied. ‘I suppose they do.'

We both picked up our spoons and returned to our waffles and ice cream.

‘So how old's Sadie?' I asked after a while as Donna pushed her empty plate to one side.

‘She was six in April.' Donna reached into her bag, pulled out her purse and took out a passport-sized photo of her daughter. She too had dark hair, big brown eyes and a huge smile.

‘She looks just like you,' I said staring at the photo.

‘A lot of people say that,' replied Donna. ‘But I don't see it myself. Have you got any kids yourself?'

Her question took me by surprise. Then I realised that at my age it was a valid question, given that most of my contemporaries were now fathers or at the very least thinking about becoming fathers.

‘No,' I replied.

‘Were they ever on the list?'

‘I think so,' I replied. ‘Once upon a time they were, anyway.'

Donna and I talked in general about the holiday and a bit more about our lives back home but then our waitress returned to clear our table and I could feel that our time together was over. We split the bill and then, tucking the money we owed underneath the sugar dispenser, stood up and made ready to leave.

‘Thanks for that,' said Donna quietly. ‘That was a really nice way to spend an afternoon.'

‘It was, wasn't it?' I replied. ‘Maybe I'll see you around later in Malia? Andy was saying that you were all going out tonight as it's your last night.'

‘Nina did mention something like that. You and your other friend should definitely come along if you're free.'

‘Cool,' I replied. ‘Well, I'll see you later then, hopefully.'

Donna waved goodbye and as she crossed the square back to the city, the cathedral bells began to chime, sending the pigeons that had been resting in the bell tower soaring one last time into the sky.

It was just after six-thirty when Tom returned to the apartment. He came out on the balcony where I'd been sitting and I offered him one of the two remaining cans of Heineken I'd brought out with me. Though worn out from his day walking he looked happy, almost carefree and we exchanged highlights of our day apart with none of the awkwardness of earlier. He was back to being Tom and I was back to being me. And everything between us was just fine.

‘So is it too crass to ask the big question?' asked Tom.

‘Which big question would that be?'

‘The one about you and Donna,' he said, smirking. ‘Do you think anything will happen tonight?'

‘I've no idea,' I replied. ‘It's not like I got any sort of positive vibes from her . . . not unless you count agreeing to eat Belgian waffles with me.'

Tom shrugged. ‘Well I wouldn't discount it altogether. Back when I was single I knew plenty of girls that wouldn't even talk to me, let alone eat waffles in the same vicinity.'

‘You see,' I sighed, ‘this is the bit I always found difficult, back in my single days: the “how to tell if they're interested part”.'

‘What does the evidence say?' asked Tom.

‘Well, other than the waffles she did say that I should come out with her sister and her friends tonight.'

‘That's all the evidence you need right there,' said Tom.

‘Do you think so? She told me to bring you along too.'

‘Even better,' said Tom. ‘That's a clear case of using me as a smokescreen to hide her true motive.' He paused. ‘So what's Andy got organised for tonight anyway?'

‘Nothing too excessive . . . you know . . . a few beers and a bit of a laugh. Tell me you're coming.'

‘I can't,' said Tom, wincing. ‘This walk really took it out of me. I was at the front of the entire walking party there and back. Tonight all I want to do is have a shower, phone Anne and the kids, and then sleep. Just give Andy a ring and tell him you're definitely coming tonight. If he gets a little too Andy even for you then at least you'll have Donna to chat to.'

‘I think I'll do it,' I said reaching for my phone. I dialled Andy's number and he answered after three rings. ‘It's me. I'm just calling to see what you're doing tonight. Tom's knackered from his hiking thing so he's going to—'

‘Brilliant!' yelled Andy down the line. His voice became muffled but I could still just about hear him informing Nina that ‘my mate Charlie is coming out tonight'.

‘We're starting off at Club Tropicana,' said Andy coming back on the line. ‘It's an eighties-themed bar and restaurant on the main strip, just past Pandemonium. We'll be there around nine-thirtyish. How does that sound?'

‘Cool,' I replied. ‘Nine-thirtyish. Club Tropicana.'

‘That's the one.' He added cheerfully, ‘Charlie?'

‘Yeah?'

‘Make sure you bring your happy face with you, okay, mate?'

‘Happy face?'

‘You know . . . give misery the night off for a change. It's the girls' last night in Malia. They want it to be a good one and I just want to make sure that everything is in position.'

‘In position for what?'

‘For you to have the best night of your entire life.'

As I sauntered into Club Tropicana at close to twenty to ten I was quite sure that it wasn't going to be the best night of my life. For a start, my clothes didn't feel right. I'd wanted to wear the same clothes I'd worn on our night out at Pandemonium (a tried and tested ensemble that was virtually my going-out-on-the-town uniform back in Brighton) but after all that time in the bar the shirt stank of cigarette smoke. My back-up ensemble, a pair of beige trousers and a white patterned shirt, had never been matched together before and though technically they should have had no trouble getting on together, for some reason the whole thing didn't quite work. Secondly, on my way to the strip that night I'd been waylaid by two Geordie girls who looked about seventeen. The first girl cheered me up immensely with the greeting: ‘You're gorgeous, you are,' but then a second girl leered drunkenly into my face and tittered: ‘Stay off the Bacardi Breezers, Tina, he's at least forty.' Thirdly, though not completely up to speed on the rules and regulations for having the best night of your life I was pretty confident that it wouldn't be sound-tracked by a Jive Bunny mega mix.

I found Andy and Nina sitting at a table on the club's outdoor terrace surrounded by Nina's friends, but there was no sign of Donna.

‘Charlie!' said Andy, greeting me like I was his long-lost brother. ‘How are you, mate? Come and sit down and meet the girls.'

One by one I was introduced to Nina's friends: Stacey, Melissa, Hattie and Beth. They all seemed nice enough and several of them were actually incredibly attractive but none of them sparked off anything in me the way Donna had that first night in Pandemonium – none of them looked as though they had stories to tell.

‘I thought there were six of you?' I asked as I settled down in a chair between Andy and Melissa. ‘Who's missing?'

‘That'll be my sister Donna,' said Nina. ‘She wanted to have some time by herself so we said we'd meet her around midnight in Bar Go-Go.'

‘Couldn't you have told her we were going somewhere else?' said Andy.

‘Why would you do that?' I asked.

‘Andy thinks Donna doesn't like him,' said Nina. ‘But he's wrong.'

‘How can I be wrong since I was there when she took me aside yesterday and said to my face: “I don't like you.”'

‘It's not that she doesn't like you,' said Nina breezily. ‘She's just looking out for her kid sister that's all. Trying to make sure that I'm not being corrupted by an older man.'

Andy stood up and began taking orders for the next round of drinks. But because I was determined to make a good impression I told him that I would get the next round in. We then proceeded to bicker in a pantomime fashion before agreeing to a compromise: I would pay while Andy would come to the bar with me and give me a hand getting the drinks back to the table. It was a perfect rendition of our ‘how-to-look-good-in-front-of-the-opposite-sex' routine lifted straight from our college days and could only have been improved if Donna had been there to witness it.

‘So what do you think of the girls then?' said Andy as we made our way to the bar.

‘They seem nice enough.'

‘Well, my friend, you're in for some luck tonight,' said Andy. ‘With them going home tomorrow there's a bit more of a party atmosphere in the air than usual. And if you want my advice I think Hattie – the tall girl in the black dress – is your best bet. She hasn't pulled all holiday so might be up for some last-minute action. If Hattie's not your thing, try Stacey – blond hair, red top, white skirt. Nina says Stacey's pulled a different bloke every night so if you don't mind being number seven you could be well in there. I think you might be out of luck with Melissa – dark hair, black top, white skirt – because she's got a boyfriend back home but I reckon if you turn on that old Mansell charm to its maximum setting she might be persuaded to forget about him. Finally there's Beth – red hair, blue dress – she's actually single but to be truthful, mate, she is so out of your league it hurts. I only say this because she's pretty much out of my league too. I suppose if you're feeling ambitious she might be worth a go but I reckon you'd be wasting time that could be better spent charming Hattie out of her knickers.'

‘What are you talking about?' I asked, even though I knew
exactly
what he was talking about.

‘You came out tonight to pull didn't you?' said Andy.

‘No,' I replied, reasoning that there was no point in weakening my argument with the truth, ‘I came out tonight because I spent today, the third day of a holiday we're supposedly on for my benefit, on my own while Tom went hiking and you hung out with Nina.'

‘Well, I'm here now aren't I?' said Andy. ‘And the girls are here too. All you've got to do is give it a bit of the old chat and you'll be away.'

‘Fine,' I said glancing over to our table in the hope that Donna might have arrived. ‘I'll get the drinks and you—' I stopped as I felt my mobile phone vibrate in my back pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

‘It's Lisa,' I said locking eyes with Andy guiltily.

‘Why is she calling you again?' he asked staring at the screen on my phone.

‘How am I supposed to know?' I replied. ‘Do you want me to answer it or let it go to voicemail?'

‘Answer it,' said Andy quickly. ‘Speak to her. Find out what she wants.'

‘Look,' I replied as the phone continued to ring. ‘I've been thinking about this and I'm really not comfortable at getting into the middle of all the stuff with you and Lisa.'

‘I know, I know,' he said urgently. ‘Look, I've got a Plan B sorted that will solve everything, okay? Just answer the call and it'll be the last thing you have to do with her I promise you.'

‘What do you mean you've got a “Plan B?”'

Andy winked at me. ‘I'd tell you but I think I'd prefer to see the look on your face when I pull off my masterstroke. Now just answer the phone and talk to her for as long as you need to, okay?'

‘Fine,' I replied. ‘But you'll have to get the drinks in.'

‘Lisa,' I said breezily into the phone as I watched the hordes of late-night revellers milling in the street outside Club Tropicana. ‘How are you?'

‘Where are you?' she asked quickly. ‘It sounds noisy.'

‘Outside a bar,' I replied. ‘It's quite crowded around here so—'

‘Is Andy with you?' she interrupted.

‘He's at the bar getting the drinks in.' I paused. ‘Look, Lisa, what's with all the questions? Are you okay? Is something wrong?'

‘I'm really sorry, Charlie.'

‘Sorry about what?'

‘I've got it into my head that you're hiding something from me. You're not are you?'

‘What makes you think that anything is wrong?' I asked, side-stepping the issue.

‘Nothing really. It was just a small thing that you said earlier that didn't quite add up. You remember the text message you sent me? You said you and Tom and Andy spent the day on the beach, didn't you?'

‘Yeah, I did.'

‘Well, are you sure about that?'

‘Of course I am.' Then I paused and, employing my best acting skills, corrected myself. ‘Well . . . actually . . . come to think of it . . . we actually spent most of the day by the pool because we were too wrecked to go anywhere else, but then we did make it to the beach a bit later in the afternoon once our strength was up. But you know how it gets when you're on holiday, everything sort of merges into one doesn't it?'

‘You're right.' The acute relief in Lisa's voice was clearly audible. I felt like the lowest of the low. ‘You're absolutely right.' She paused. ‘I really am so sorry, Charlie. I should let you go. I feel like I'm single-handedly ruining your holiday.'

‘You don't have to go,' I said quickly. Her guilt was making my own spiral out of control. ‘It's not like I'm missing out on much. I think they're playing Tears For Fears at the moment.'

‘Okay,' laughed Lisa. ‘Leaving aside Tears For Fears for the moment . . . how has your day been?'