HE DIDN'T HAVE TO LEAVE THE HOTEL
By Beryl Stott
Mark got off the bus and looked around. The air was soft and sticky, unlike anything he had felt before. The tropics. He was amazed at the lush foliage everywhere, every plant so much bigger and more colourful than he was used to. The driver had unloaded his baggage and as he wandered into the hotel foyer with it, he caught sight of himself in the huge mirror. Pasty, yes that was the word to describe his complexion, too much time spent inside. He took off his glasses and polished them, assessing his fifty-two year old frame as he did so. Long and thin, awkward he supposed others would call him. Well this holiday would fix that, no-one was going to stop him. He planned to spend long hours just lounging around on the beach in the hot sun.
He could see a magnificent pool to the right of the foyer, green and aqua tiles wandered around in a complicated shape. There was an island in the middle with a palm tree and at the far end, a waterfall cascaded from an upper level with luxuriant plants growing all around the pool. Everyone had departed from the bus and crowded into the foyer, herding their luggage and shouting and talking. Feeling a little overwhelmed he gave his name to the receptionist to be met with a cheery greeting and a keycard, something he had never seen before.
Just then the most stunning woman he had ever seen walked past. Without thinking it through, he followed her into the outdoor restaurant. About fifty, she was tall, taller than him, and slim, with warm, caramel coloured skin, possibly Black American by descent. Soft, cloud- grey hair cropped short in very tight curls covered her beautifully shaped head. The fire engine red dress she was wearing set off her slim figure and gold hoop earrings finished the outfit. Mark was entranced.
He sat down in a chair behind her and jumped when the waitress asked for his order. Settling back with a coffee, his mind started wandering down forbidden alleyways, the skin where the bracelet had been, itched. He left the coffee and hastened out of the restaurant.
It was two days before he saw her again. His optimism at the new surroundings was beginning to pall. Although hot, there was also sudden unexpected light showers of rain so he was often wet, the beach where he thought he would laze in the sun was netted off to ward against excruciatingly painful stingers, worse, you had to pay extra to swim there or laze on a deckchair. It was starting to get under his skin as to how unfair the whole world was. All those people with plenty of money and he had to watch every penny.
He started timing it so he saw her every morning as she went for a coffee, but now he looked at her anew. The earrings surely were real gold, and there were tiny diamonds imbedded in them. She had a fine gold chain around her ankle with diamonds set in as well. There was a polished aura around her, as though she attended the beauty parlour every week. Her clothes were obviously expensive. Way out of his league. Mark could feel the tiny clawings of resentment start, and he felt the itch begin again. He left hurriedly and went for a long walk.
Only another two days to go, then he was booked on the bus again, and the long flight back to the bright lights of the city. A city where you could get lost and no-one would care, very few would even realise if he didn’t returned. What did he have to go back for? He hadn’t had a chance to buy much furniture, just a bed and there was very little else he cared about. If things got too complicated here, he could just as well take a bus going the other way, maybe over to Darwin to see what it was like there.
The idea grew and with it his ankle itched again where he had abraded it cutting the tracer off. He longed to scratch the itch in more ways than one.