Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach (5 page)

The road had wandered away from the coast, but the pallid sandy beach was visible beyond an elongated field of grass. A swollen orange sun hovered above the sea and paced the minibus. Sunset Beach cut off the sunlight as the resort closed around the road, the sparsely populated pavements bordered by dormant neon. "At least some people have got up," Pris said.

"More come out soon," said the driver.

Ray assumed he was seeing recent arrivals, since they all looked in need of a tan. The minibus pulled up in front of the Bright Nights, where drinkers sat beneath the red-tiled roof of an extensive bar. If Ray's professional eye hadn't deserted him, quite a few weren't much older than Tim and Jonquil. Sam from the travel company came to meet the Thornton party, and Ray gave her the receipt for the taxi fare. "You nearly didn't see some of us," he said. "This chap wanted to keep us on his island."

"Welcome to Sunset Beach," Sam said before her broad tanned face grew a little less placid. "Weren't there more of you?"

"Just the youngest," Ray said, "and the oldest apart from me."

"We knew the venue wouldn't be appropriate for our son," Julian said.

"Too young, you think," Sam said and perhaps agreed. "Sit anywhere you like and Nikos will bring drinks."

"One soft, thank you," Julian said, "or is anybody besides Jonquil not having alcohol?"

"Not in this family," Doug said.

As Ray hoped Julian hadn't taken this for a gibe at him Natalie said "May we know why you've held the meeting here?"

"Because all our other guests at this end of the island are in Sunset Beach."

"You didn't plan to try to sell the place to us," Julian said. "There are people here for whom it's wholly inappropriate."

"I don't really know what you mean," Sam said and went to stand beside a large map of Vasilema. "Welcome again, everyone," she said as the barman brought the Thornton party a trayful of drinks. "I expect I'll be saying that to some of you next year."

She hadn't much to say about the island's history, though perhaps as much as some of her audience might have the patience for. The island had originally been called Iliovasilema, which meant a sunset. Lord Byron had once said it had "the finest sunsets in this world or any other." During the Second World War Italians occupied the island and shortened its name. Until the present century it hadn't attracted many tourists, but Greece's economic troubles persuaded the islanders to develop holiday resorts, Sunset Beach in particular. "But there's plenty for everyone," Sam said with a glance at Julian, and used a pointer like a thin stake to indicate places on the map while she described them along with tours that were listed in a brochure. "If anyone's interested in any day trips," she said with less conviction than Ray would have expected, "let me know."

"Don't you do tours off the island?" Pris said.

"Not too many people go on those." Ray could have thought she resented the question on Vasilema's behalf. "We can book you one," she said.

"How about trips to your monastery?" Doug said.

"Which one is that?"

"St Titus's, who else? He's your patron saint," Doug seemed surprised to have to tell her. "He drove the Arabs out of Crete and here and made your island Christian."

"There isn't much left of the monastery. I think you'd be wasting your time."

"That's not how it sounds in our book," Pris said.

"The book must be out of date. Is there anything else I can set up for you?"

"We'll let you know in a few minutes," Julian said.

"Don't be too long, will you? I expect your driver would like to get away."

"I imagine he can wait until we're ready. We didn't ask for him in the first place."

Ray glanced towards the minibus. The driver was gazing at the icon that was set above the mirror—St Titus brandishing his spear—but Ray couldn't tell if he was praying. The twilit street had grown a little busier, and beyond a gap between a supermarket and a bar he saw a few people beneath the extravagantly wide umbrellas that sprouted from the beach. As Sam went to a couple who had beckoned her over Julian said "Does anybody want to state a preference?"

"We usually like to explore a new place as soon as we can," Ray said.

"We'll put that down as your day, shall we?" Julian said and took out his mobile to make notes. "Who's next? Priscilla?"

"Definitely the monastery. It can't be all that ruined when it was carved out of the rock."

"I'll have the cruise around the island," Doug said.

Julian noted those and said "Natalie, my love."

"I wouldn't mind seeing other islands. Don't take that personally, Doug."

"Timothy?"

When Tim didn't answer, Pris nudged Doug. The boy was gazing at the street with a smile that looked at the very least inviting. "Someone's made a conquest," his mother murmured.

A girl was silhouetted against the crimson sky above the stretch of beach the buildings framed. Her pale elongated Grecian face and especially her large eyes reminded Ray of a statue, though the rest of her rather undermined the image. The arms the long white dress exposed were thinner than seemed healthy. Of course these days many girls of her age were, except how old was that? Ray was failing to guess—he'd always been able when he was a teacher, and he was unexpectedly dismayed to have lost the skill—when she looked away from Tim and saw the other watchers. She passed a hand over her face from the high domed forehead to the long chin as though slipping off a mask and at once, with a fluid movement that her dress concealed, was out of sight. "Sorry, Tim," Doug said, though with some amusement. "We didn't mean to scare her off."

"Doesn't matter," Tim mumbled, blushing.

"So may we hear your thoughts, Timothy?" Julian said.

Tim seemed to have to recapture his wits before saying "I'd like the drive off the road."

"The off-road tour for Timothy." As Julian tapped the tiny keyboard he said "Natalie tells me you and Sandra used to like cycling on holiday, Raymond. Do you still?"

"I'll ask her." In an attempt to deflect any speculation about her Ray said "What about William?"

"Some cycles have child seats at the rear. Well, that's my choice for now," Julian said with just a hint of petulance. "I thought it might be good for all concerned."

"I think you've left somebody out of the choosing," Natalie said.

"Not at all, my love. Let's be hearing from you, Jonquil, before we speak to your grandmother." Without a pause he said twice as sharply "Jonquil."

Ray was close to pointing out that she'd had no time to answer when he saw her face. She was smiling at someone on the street, and for an unsettling moment he thought the girl who had taken Tim's fancy was back. Certainly the boy watching Jonquil was just as thin, and the little that Ray could distinguish of the long face against the sky from which the crimson had begun to drain reminded, him of the Greek girl's face. As Jonquil parted her lips Julian held up an open hand to the newcomer. "Nothing here for you," he called. "Kindly move on."

Several people stared at him from the darkening street as the boy turned away. In a moment Ray couldn't see him for the crowd. "We ought to tell you that's quite rude, Jules," Doug said, "holding up your hand like that to anyone in Greece."

"There's been rudeness, I agree. Did you have something to say, Jonquil?"

"Make your day an ace one," Tim said.

This seemed to hearten her or at any rate to head off some words she didn't utter. "We haven't got any days on the beach," she said.

"I assume we'll be filling in with those." Julian poised a finger above his mobile and then erased an inadvertent B it had summoned up. "Is that really all that comes into your mind?"

"I'd like to go where she said it's best for shopping."

"Where Samantha said." When looking hard at Jonquil failed to make her say the name, Julian began to type. "I should think the rest of us will find more than that to do there," he said. "Will you be calling Sandra now, Raymond?"

Ray found his phone and brought up her number. He touched the call icon so gently he felt timid, and couldn't help counting as the bell rang. He'd heard twelve shrill notes in pairs when Sandra said "It's all right, I'm here."

He turned on the loudspeaker and laid the phone on the table. "How's everyone?"

"We've been having a lovely swing, but someone's getting hungry. Shall we wait for you?"

"We won't be long now, William," Natalie called. "Just be good for grandma."

"Evadne was saying there's a saint's day celebration," Sandra said, "so we can make that my day if everybody likes. That's still nobody, William. Just a shadow."

"What is?" Natalie demanded.

"He keeps thinking someone's in our room, Ray. It's just from the last of the sun."

"What did we say, William?" Julian said as he typed Sandra's choice. "Behave yourself for your grandmother and don't play tricks on her. Now, what kind of a day would you like?"

"Stay at the hotel. There's a lady who'll play with me."

"It isn't really a hotel, is it?" Julian said, glancing not quite at Pris and Doug. "I wonder what there would be for the rest of us."

"I don't mind a day by the pool," Jonquil said.

"You've already been given a day, Jonquil."

"While Will has his, she means," Tim said. "By the pool's okay with me."

When his parents and grandparents agreed William risked a cheer. "And look," Sandra said, "the shadow's gone."

"Well see you very soon," Ray told her and followed Julian over to Sam. Places were available on all the tours, and tomorrow's was the cruise around the island. Sam took payments from the credit cards so speedily that she almost tore the vouchers in the machine. She handed back the cards and gave Julian the tickets, which appeared to placate him in some way. "I'll keep these in the safe," he said, "so we'll know where they are."

Ray might have objected to the assumption of authority if he hadn't remembered the passport episode. "If it keeps you happy, Jules," Doug said.

"I think your driver wants to be off," Sam said.

"He's not alone," Julian said. "I don't think any of us will be coming back here."

"It isn't to your taste, then."

Could Sam be hoping so? She'd glanced towards the street, where more than one pair of eyes gleamed red with neon, but Ray took her to be concerned with the driver. Ray made for the minibus to encourage everyone to do so, and the driver climbed out at once to slide the door back. "Sorry for the wait," Ray said when everyone was seated.

The driver sent the minibus forward. "Doesn't matter now," he said and returned his gaze to the crowded road so immediately that Ray couldn't tell who he'd been watching in the mirror.

Ray could only think he had been dreaming. He wasn't even certain whether a knock had wakened him. Perhaps a guest at the Sunny View had come back late or was looking for a friend's room, since the next noise was even more distant and so discreet it sounded close to insubstantial, if he was hearing it at all. While he didn't think anyone opened a door, he heard no other sound, not even footsteps, though he didn't recall hearing any of those in the first place. What suggested that some if not all of this had been a dream was that as he reached across the conjoined beds to reassure himself about Sandra, he had an impression of somebody stealing out of the room.

Since it wasn't Sandra, it couldn't have been real. Just the same, as Ray clasped her waist he tried to focus the dim room. It resembled a charcoal sketch of itself, and it was as still as the hour—nearly three in the morning—ought to be. Sandra stirred beneath the quilt and murmured a few indistinct words about feeling, unless he'd misheard her. "Are you feeling all right?" he whispered despite hoping not to interrupt her sleep. He was happy to take her silence for assent, even for a kind of contentment, which he did his best to reinforce with not too fierce an embrace.

He thought she'd enjoyed last night's family dinner, even if at times it had felt carefully polite rather than entirely convivial. He'd caught Julian and Doug avoiding areas of disagreement for her sake rather than risk another argument such as they'd had at Christmas. They'd seemed close to quarrelling when Julian had started to dissect the bill with the precision he boasted of applying to insurance claims, but then Doug had made a joke of it—almost too much of one for Julian's taste. "Always look after your money and anyone else's you're responsible for," he'd counselled William, and Ray had seen Doug resist taking this as a gibe about how he tried never to deny payments to clients at the unemployment centre, just like Pris. At least the muted confrontation came too late to interfere with Sandra's appetite. She might almost have been eating for two people, and Ray only wished her waist weren't still so thin.

If the Greek sun was bringing her back to herself, he prayed it would continue its work. He hugged her as if this might help to preserve her state; he squeezed her waist so hard that it grew fluid, practically shapeless. The sensation shocked him awake, and he clutched at the boneless mass next to him in bed, only to discover that he was alone except for the quilt he was struggling to embrace. As he tried to shove himself upright, all the pains of age seemed to gather in his shaky arm. His shoulder thumped the concrete wall, and Sandra slid the window open. "I was just coming to find you," she said. "I've got bread for everyone. Come and have some before it's time for the boat."

His watch gave them almost forty minutes. Once he'd finished in the bathroom he joined Sandra on the balcony. Doug and his family were breakfasting below and to his right, while Natalie's were on the next balcony along. "Sorry I'm belated," Ray called down to them all.

"You're on holiday, dad," Doug told him. "Some of our younger members weren't too eager to greet the sun either."

"I was," William protested.

"And didn't you let everyone know," Jonquil said.

"I was up before it was," Sandra said, "me and the baker."

As Ray sat down he glanced towards Sunset Beach. He couldn't see if anyone was under the outsize umbrellas, but he wondered if their size was meant to tempt people from the neighbouring resorts. Or perhaps anybody staying in Sunset Beach wouldn't welcome too much sunshine after a night on the town. Sandra had put out salt and olive oil for the bread, and he was heartened to see crumbs already on her plate. When he took a chunky slice of the remains of the loaf she did as well. He was savouring a mouthful while he listened to the musing of the sea when the idyll was undermined by the off-stage flushing of a toilet and an outburst of giggling from William. "What do you think of our special plumbing, Will?" Doug said.