Christopher Lee - For The Love Of Sara

She brushed the sand from her legs. One of them still had a small nick on it from her mother’s razor. She had borrowed it when she showered after getting back to the room from the pool. She had also shaved under her arms, unlike one Spanish woman lying on the beach in front of her, arms above her head and hairy armpits of full view. Ugh, what a turn off, thought Sara.

Leaving her towel she walked down to the water’s edge and waded straight in. The cold Mediterranean waters caressed her thighs, and then she dived forward under the brine. She was amazed by the number of fish, most of them grey with yellow bands, all moving in unison. The seabed sloped sharply away and the water looked a darker blue as she swam towards the bottom.

She saw what looked like an old stump sticking out of the seabed. Around it swam five long grey fish with pointed snouts. She swam towards them and they darted away. She examined the stump and found a large rusty iron ring attached to it with a section of rope. Her lungs were telling her she needed more oxygen. She kicked upwards leaving swirls of sand around the stump and broke the surface some 20feet above. She drew in the life giving air and turned to float on her back, gazing up at the crystal blue sky. A jet passed overhead and she wondered where it was going.

By the time the family had got back to the apartment, Jill had developed a blinding headache, either too much sun, or PMT. Either way she didn’t feel like dinner and was glad when Grant offered to take the children to one of the nearby restaurants.

Showered and changed into a green silk shirt and sand coloured slacks, Grant splashed a palm-full of his favourite Jean Paul Gaultier aftershave on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. Just one day in the sun and he already looked like a lobster. Lobster, now there’s a thought. I wonder if they will have any on the menu.

They left Jill lying on the settee and headed off in search of dinner.

“Will we have enough for dinner now that mum’s lost all our money?” asked Sally.

Grant smiled. “I think so sweetheart.”

They found a restaurant and the children plonked themselves down at a table. A waiter in a smart white tunic and black trousers came over with an armful of menus. The girls had omelettes, Tim had the roast chicken and Ben had squid, everything with chips. There was lobster on the menu, but when Grant saw the price of it, he had second thoughts, remembering the 1500 euros they had already lost. He had a steak instead.

As they waited for the food, Ben said he needed the toilet. Sally said she wanted to go too, and Tim offered to take them. The food arrived just as the children returned. It was an okay sort of meal, nothing special. Grant had a beer and the children all had cokes. They all wanted ice cream for desert, three different flavours served in long glasses topped with strawberry and chocolate sauce.

Grant got up and went to the loo. As he crossed the restaurant he noticed three people sitting at a table in the corner, a man and woman and what could have been their daughter. It was the girl from the swimming pool, or was it? She had her back to him, but he thought he recognised the blonde hair. When he came out he looked across again, but this time the girl had gone. As he headed back to his own seat he saw her standing there, talking to Emma.

“Hello stranger,” said Grant as he approached. “Sara, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” she laughed.

“This is my dad,” said Emma.

“I know,” said Sara “We have already met.”

“Is it alright if we go back to the hotel with Sara?” asked Emma.

“Sure,” said Grant. “Catch you later.”

“Can we go as well?” asked Sally.

“You can all go,” said her dad, “but all stick together.” And off they went

Grant ordered a large Carlos One brandy. He looked across to the table in the corner. The woman was not particularly attractive. Grant thought she must be about the same age as him, perhaps a little older. He couldn’t quite make out the face of the man with her, the face of the man he was later going to try and kill.

When he entered the foyer he saw Sara playing the video games machine. She was on her own. He quietly walked up behind her so he wouldn’t spoil her concentration.

“Shit, now look what you’ve made me do.” She didn’t turn around even though she was addressing Grant.

“I have one life left and I need 25,000 points to be top scorer. What was wrong with your wife tonight?”

She said it all so matter-of-factly it took Grant by surprise,

“Erh, she wasn’t feeling well,” he said peering over her shoulder at the screen. “A headache, I think.”

“Time of the month, eh,” she said, still zapping aliens, “poor old Grant, on holiday too.”

That was enough for Grant. She had gone too far. He turned and headed back towards the bar when she called him back.

“I’m sorry,” she said loudly, loudly enough for the hotel receptionist to look up from the magazine she was reading.

“My mouth just runs away with itself sometimes. I didn’t mean anything.” She left the machine and walked over to him and put her hand on his arm,

“I shouldn’t have spoken like that,” she said. “I really am very sorry.”

Grant looked into her emerald green eyes and smiled.

“It’s OK, maybe I’m a bit touchy,” he said.

“So no hard feelings?” asked the teen.

“No,” said Grant.

“Well in that case,” said Sara, “come on, you can buy me a drink.”

They found a table near the patio doors, away from the dance floor. As Sara sat down Grant couldn’t help noticing her long legs as she crossed them. She was wearing a short blue denim dress.

“I suppose you want a large vodka and coke?” joked Grant.

“No. I prefer tequila,” she laughed. “But a coke will do for now.”

He made his way to the bar. It was at times like these he was grateful for his height. It meant he usually got served straight away. Sure enough the barman came across and Grant ordered a coke for Sara and a Carlos One for himself. As he weaved his way across the dance floor he saw Sara had been joined by Emma.

“Hi dad,” she greeted him. “Sara and I are going back to play cards at her place if that’s okay?”

“Fine,” said Grant, handing Sara her drink. “Just don’t be back too late.”

Shortly after Tim, Ben and Sally came back.

“We’re ready for bed,” said Sally. “We’re knackered.”

“I beg your pardon, young lady,” said Grant admonishing his eight year-old, “I am tired out,” he corrected her.

“You’re tired too, dad? That’s what I said, we’re all knackered.”

When they got back to the apartment Jill was fast asleep in Emma’s bed.

“Shush, don’t wake her up,” said Grant. “You three go to bed and Em can sleep on the put-you-up with me.”

“She won’t like losing her bed for the night,” warned Tim.

“Well, she’ll just have to put up with the put-you-up,” joked Ben.

Emma came back shortly after eleven o’clock.

“Where’s mum?” she asked Grant who was sitting out on the patio.

“I’m afraid she’s fast asleep in your bed. You’re lumbered with me tonight.”

“No way,” she said playfully picking up a cushion making to club her dad around the head.

“If you snore I will push you out onto the patio.”

When the two of them snuggled down on the settee bed Grant said to Emma; “Did you have a good time at Sara’s?”

“She’s OK,” said Emma. “She’s cool.”

“Is she here with her mum and dad?”

Emma snuggled up to her dad.

“Well, she’s here with her mum, but that’s not her dad. I think he’s her uncle. Night dad.”