Читать книгу For The Love Of Sara - Christopher Lee - Страница 8

CHAPTER 3

The holiday was going well. The hotel and apartments were excellent and the location ideal for the children – near the beach with no busy roads to cross. Within minutes of arriving all four children were in the swimming pool leaving Grant and Jill to unpack.

Grant was a partner in a successful London advertising agency. He worked hard and this was his first holiday in three years and, how he needed it. Two weeks away from clients, the office and commuting with only sun, sea, sand and sex to look forward to.

Their apartment was small for a family of six; two double bedrooms, a living room and kitchen combined and a bathroom with no window, just an extractor fan that must have exceeded every EU noise regulation. The patio was spacious and overlooked the larger of two swimming pools. Grant had already rearranged the furniture in the apartment. The pine dining table and chairs were relocated to the patio meaning that meals would be al fresco, creating more space inside which would be much needed when it came to making up the bed settee.

It had been left to the children to sort out the sleeping arrangements. Nobody wanted to sleep with Sally because she snored. In the end, Tim drew the short straw. Emma would have preferred a bedroom to herself, but that was Emma all over. Perhaps you have to make allowances for teenaged girls. It is a funny age for young ladies, as Grant was about to find out.

Grant felt the early effects of the Spanish sun on his pale English skin as he stepped under the shower. A tingling sensation swept his body as the powerful jet of water crashed over him. The children had already changed and gone down to the hotel leaving Jill and Grant alone. He emerged naked from the bathroom, dripping puddles onto the marble floor. He was a powerfully built man, over six feet tall and weighed fourteen stones. Jill was in her dressing gown, a light-weight chocolate coloured wrap-around she had bought especially for the holiday. Underneath Grant could see the lace of her white brassiere. He walked across to her and slid his hands around her waist, then up to cup her breasts. She straightened up and stiffened recoiling from his advance. He persisted and nuzzled her neck, his hands kneading her breasts, needing her breasts.

“Not now, Grant, the children might come back,” she said struggling free from his grasp. “Besides, you’re soaking wet.”

He let go and went to the bedroom to get dressed.

“Ah well,” he thought to himself. “Maybe it’s going to be sun, sea sand and no sex.”

When he emerged from the bedroom he heard the shower running. Jill was in the bathroom. Normally he would have been tempted to join her, but in view of her earlier reticence, he didn’t bother.

“I’ll see you down there,” he called out. “Don’t forget to bring the key.”

He descended two flights of stairs and walked past the swimming pool which was now empty. A row of sun loungers stood sentinel over the liquid blue waters. In the sandpit next to the diving pool a handful of children still played, oblivious to the drop in temperature.

The thirty or so white metal tables outside the hotel bar were mostly empty. Inside, children engaged in musical games organised by the children’s club entertainer Yolande, a plump Spanish girl employed by the hotel for the season.

Grant walked through the lobby and had to swerve to avoid a stampede of children playing chase – Ben and Sally among them. He walked through the carved oak double doors into the bar. He ordered a large beer and took it through the sliding glass doors onto the patio.

The air was cool against his skin. He wore a plum coloured short sleeved silk shirt over a pair of C&A white casual cotton trousers. On his feet he wore a pair of red Pringle golfing socks and Reebok trainers.

He looked around at his fellow holidaymakers. He noticed a pretty dark haired woman wearing a tight low cut red chiffon dress sitting at a table near the end of the bar. She looked Spanish, not just because of her olive skin, but there was something about her eyes. She caught his gaze and he immediately turned away. When he looked back she had been joined by a swarthy looking companion.

He sipped his beer and was looking across to the apartments trying to make out which one was theirs when he saw Jill. She was wearing a plain blue cotton dress with a white jacket over the top matched by white sandals. She spotted him on the patio and came across to join him. She smiled, none of the frostiness from before.

“What would you like to drink?” Grant asked his wife.

“White wine will be fine,” she replied, “or something with lemonade. Have you seen the children?”

“All except Emma,” he replied, leaving his chair. “But she’s here somewhere.”

Grant got a white wine and another beer for himself and went back outside. The evening had taken on a degree of stillness. Crickets sang in the hedgerows surrounding the diving pool. They sipped their drinks and Jill shuddered slightly.

“Do you want to go inside?” asked Grant. “It’s a bit chilly.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” replied his wife. “Bingo is about to start.”

It was Grant’s turn to shudder.

Bingo came and went. Jill didn’t win and Grant didn’t play. Emma re-appeared. She had made friends with a group of youngsters led by a boy who looked about eighteen.

“Is it all right if I go up to the twins’ room?” she asked breathlessly having run across the dancefloor.

“Who are the twins and where is their room?” asked Grant.

“They are here with their nan and grandad staying in the hotel, but they have got to be in bed by eleven,” said Emma.

“If it’s okay with mum, it’s okay with me,” said Grant. “Just be careful.”

The disco was in full swing and the lambada was playing. A snake of youngsters crossed the dancefloor with Emma second in the line. With hands held high above their heads like olive pickers, they gyrated across the floor.

“I bet he fancies himself,” said Grant pointing out the big lad in the front. He was the leader and wherever he went, they all followed – except one. She was a tall girl with long blonde hair. She wore blue trousers and a plain white t-shirt. Her movements were different to the rest. She seemed uncoordinated, awkward even.

It was the first time he had seen her. It was not to be the last.