chapter 2
Three and a half weeks later and I’m packing my bags, I leave on Saturday, in just three days, nervous does not begin to describe the state I’m in.
Chucking things towards my open case I mentally cross them off the list; Bikini’s check, sun cream check, lots of fly spray check…..what else do I really need for three weeks in Mexico?
I spoke to Mick as soon as I got to work the Monday after “the intervention”, he sported a knowing look as soon as he spotted me.
“You really need this” he had said shutting his office door behind us.
“Are you sure Mick, this seems like a lot to ask” I searched his face for the slightest sign of weakness.
“No Kate, really. You have done so much over the last few weeks, this is the least we can do. And if anyone knows how much you need this, it’s me” he added giving me his, we’re in this together expression.
While I was smiling warmly at him, he reached into his desk drawer. “I have something here for you, now don’t be alarmed, you’re entitled to it, with the big accounts you’ve pulled in recently this is your commission. I just persuaded the accounts team to give it to you early so you have a little pocket money while you’re away” he handed it to me giving me a wink with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
My mouth dropped to the floor the cheque was made out for £5000! “Mick!!” I screeched jumping into his arms and somewhat startling him in the process “don’t Mick me” he said cautiously removing his arms following my inappropriate gesture, “I promise this was just what you earned, you’ve really shown your worth here, the Boss in head office has been making inquiries about you!”
I couldn’t even contemplate what he was saying, in all my time there I had never received this much in one commission, £1000 tops and I hadn’t been keeping track, quite frankly my commission has been the last thing on my mind recently; I never knew divorce could be so profitable.
By now I’m feeling a lot better, I just have to take things day by day. There is always the occasional hiccup; Jake has fully moved out now, but I occasionally come across one of his shirts forgotten at the bottom of the washing basket, or a present he got me for an anniversary and all the heartache I thought I had put behind me floods back like a tidal wave, literally knocking me off my feet. But I think that’s to be expected, it has only been 8weeks, and what do they say? ‘It takes a month for every year you were together to get over a break up’ on that basis I think I’m doing marvellously.
Caz has the house sale going at lightening speed. It was on the market within a day of us talking about it and within 1week she already had five offers, two of which were well above the asking price, I hadn’t realised how sort after this area was? Caz was straight in pitting the two higher bidders against each other and managed to secure an even better price more than doubling what I originally paid. The buyers are desperate to get in, so everyone is working overtime to make it happen as soon as possible.
Mum and Dad in the mean time have been emailing me daily with possible new places to live, a suspicious amount of them do not meet any of my criteria, but are very close to where they live!
There is one however that caught my eye; it’s a bit rural in location, with no immediate neighbours, but it has the biggest garden I’ve ever seen. It includes a quaint swing hanging from a large old oak at the back and a sprinkling of fruit and blossom trees which will look magical in the spring. The view past the garden is uninterrupted rolling hills, all of which can be seen from the double bay windows in the master bedroom, as well as from the bathtub in the en-suite.
Never in a million years did I think I could afford a place like this. I make an average enough living, but house prices these days are astronomical, this is undoubtedly me dream abode. The only down side is it means a 2hour commute to work. I could put in a request to transfer to the head office which would only be an hour away, but I’ve been with Mick since I started at the firm, straight out of university; I don’t know what I’d do without him now.
Either way it can all wait till after my holiday.
I used some of my commission to splash out on a new holiday wardrobe. I hadn’t noticed how long it’s been since I went abroad; Jake wasn’t a fan of lazing in the sun so never saw the point in “wasting money on the privilege”. Bit by bit it’s been dawning on my just how much of my life I have given up for him over the years; We could have traveled the world, had kids, moved to the countryside, anything, but instead we have wasted away 10years in the mundane daily routine of working, arguing, sleeping. Time relentlessly traveling forward while we stand still, never progressing.
But look at me now, surrounded by sparkling sarongs and leather sandals just itching to start on the adventure of my lifetime.
Two hours later I have packed and then re-packed my suitcase. Then written out an official list of items I need and then ceremoniously re-packed again; I am ready, I am sure of it, the butterflies are cruelly partying in my stomach, but I am ready,really, I am!
Slugging my oversized suitcase down the stairs I place it next to the front door and carefully balance my passport and tickets on top. I’ve got my carry-on bag packed and my travel clothes (these are relatively the same as my comfy house clothes just minus the dressing gown and slippers) laid out on the chair in my bedroom.
Just two more days at work and then I’ll be flying away to a far and exotic land!
I have arrived!
Caz, Phil, Mum and Dad all escorted me to the airport accompanied with teary goodbyes, you’d have been forgiven for thinking I was emigrating, rather than just holidaying. The flight was long and uneventful, economy class is not the most pleasant way to travel an 8hour flight, but thanks to the pills Caz slipped me, it went by in a mostly undisturbed daze.
Then a three hour coach ride to the resort, which I spent soaking in the views and marvelling at my accomplishment. I have done what I never imagined; come to a foreign land alone and more importantly, enjoyed the ride.
The resort is magnificent; a beautiful fountain out front proudly presents the main building. Huge marble pillars guard the entrance of gigantic sweeping glass doors. As soon as you step through them you are presented with a cool flannel to wipe the travel grime from your face and an icy cold glass of Champagne.
Check in is swift and before you know if you’re being whisked away to your suite. I had no idea where my suitcase was, only to discover that by some miracle, it had arrived in my suite before I did.
Its early evening by the time I’m settled in, the sun is still sweltering and what with the heat and the travel I suddenly feel exhausted. My room is stunning, a Queen size bed decorated with flowers and intricately folded towels in the shapes of animals, (an elephant and what appears to be a flamingo), a large flat screen TV mounted to the wall adjacent to the bed and a well stocked mini bar below it. The novelty of using the mini bar without the worry of extra charges is too much to resist and I help myself to a cheeky gin and tonic.
Glass in hand, I continue investigating my room; there are bedside cabinets with ornate lamps on each side of the bed, a large wooden carved vanity table against the far wall and then my private bathroom. In one corner there is a powerful shower, big enough to fit a whole family in, the floor and walls all a matching sand coloured stone, with twin, deep bowl sinks opposite the shower. Back out to the room and I spot a humungous balcony, equipped with Jacuzzi AND a hammock and judging by tonight, it catches the glorious evening sunshine. It’s perfect, more than perfect, it’s heavenly.
Unpacking can wait until tomorrow, for now I want a shower and some food. Unsurprisingly there is a comprehensive room service menu next to the phone, this is the first time in weeks I’ve actually felt hungry, so I’m really going to take advantage; picking up the phone I am greeted with an impeccably polite receptionist who takes my order without batting an eye at the size of it.
I’ve ordered fresh fruit, croissants, burritos, a sandwich, a Greek salad, a nondescript fish dish and a selection of deserts.
Expecting to have at least an hour to arrive I had planned on jumping in the shower, but according to the receptionist it will arrive within 20minutes, so washing will have to wait.
Exactly on time there is a knock at the door and I am met by a dutiful bell boy with my trolley of food. He simply advises me to leave the trolley outside my front door once I am finished then gracefully bows out of the room.
Flicking on the TV I find it contains around 200 channels, mostly American, scrolling mindlessly through I settle on an unfamiliar animated kids film, ideal light entertainment. Stuffing my face, the food is divine; I go for taking single bites out of each dish in succession then returning to my favourites for seconds so I get the most out of my delectable feast before I feel full. I manage to polish off the fish and the salad, most of the burritos, half the sandwich, a croissant and most of the fruit. The deserts (yes deserts plural, my Dad would be so proud that I’m getting his moneys worth) I place on the side for later, then deposit the trolley outside as instructed and trot back in, my belly bloated and satisfyingly stuffed full.
Jumping in the shower its jets are so powerful it’s almost painful, but the hot water does wonders for my tired skin. I haven’t unpacked my toiletries yet so instead I use the gels they provide, the first one I pick smells of strawberries and vanilla, the scent quickly filling the room as I begin to wash.
Gently massaging it over my body, its silky texture luxurious under my fingers as I run them over my shoulders, down my arms, across my swollen abdomen and slowly up over my breasts, “mmmmmm” an appreciative moan escapes my lips, the smell and sensation making me tingle. Leaning forward and pushing my head under the streaming water, I let my hands roam down my lower back and over my buttocks, spreading this intoxicating foam as they go.
I only meant to be in there for 10minutes, but by the time I emerge from the bathroom, tussled in a soft floor length robe provided by the hotel, it’s 40minutes later, sleep nagging at my heavy eyes, my limbs so relaxed they can barely support me upright. Collapsing on the bed I manage one bite of cake from my desert selection before I’m comatose.
I wake at 7am the next day, after easily eleven hours sleep, refreshed and ready for my first full day in Mexico. Stepping out onto the balcony the sun is already up and the heat is rising. I’m not going to bother with a shower this morning after my epic one last night, instead I slap on some sun cream and a quick spritz of bug spray, then throw on a bikini and a light blue chiffon sun dress with a pair of pink sandals; pausing in front of the mirror I briefly pull my fingers through my hair, after sleeping on it wet and twisted up in a towel it is anything but manageable.
But this holiday is about relaxing, so I don’t have to care, instead choosing to fumble in my bag for a hair band and then knotting it up mercilessly on top of my head, there shabby chic.
Grabbing my oversized sunglasses off the side on the way out I step out into the sun. Noticing briefly that last night’s trolley has been discreetly removed, the service here is fantastic!
There is a sweeping stone stair case the leads from the door of my room on the first floor, down to street level. It is immaculately clean, not so much as a leaf on it, and beautifully decorated with flowers carved into the stone wall that runs down the length of the stairs.
Taking the last step your path then opens out into stunning gardens, all perfectly symmetrical and housing an array of bright flowers, some of which I’ve never seen before. Lizards, anything from tiny cute ones to huge slightly scary looking ones, laze about soaking in the sun; lying there as if it’s completely normal, mundane even, so sidestep a lizard on your way to breakfast.
The breakfast bar is located near to the beach; the building is not as grand as the main foyer, but still pristine none-the-less. Inside there is a hot buffet which spreads the entire length of the room containing every cooked breakfast item from around the globe, as well as two further islands which hold masses of fresh exotic fruits, cereals, sweet breads, croissants, cheeses, really everything you could possibly imagine eating first thing in the morning.
Loading up, I get cornflakes with a low fat cherry yogurt and a plate of fresh fruits, every one more juicy and sweet than the last. Once I’ve finished that I know I should be done, that alone was twice the amount I would normally have had at home, but the smell of bacon is so enticing, and it is all-inclusive after all. I am acutely aware that I am persuading myself into another plate, but I’m on holiday, so screw it. Getting up I walk across the room, subtly looking around to make sure no one has noticed my greedy faux-pas, luckily it looks as though everyone in there is too busy being equally as gluttonous to notice.
So with a smile on my face I scoop up generous spoonfuls of scrambled egg, sausages, bacon, beans, grilled tomatoes, seriously anything they have on offer then return to my seat. As I’m walking over I see the table I thought I was at is laid out perfectly. For a minute I stop, I’m pretty sure my table was here but there is no sign of my empty bowl, plate and yogurt pot? Glancing over my shoulder I scan the other tables, in fairness they all look identical, looking back I spot my sunglasses on the table I had been heading to. It is my table; seriously they have cleared and re-laid it already? I’ve only been gone a minute, they are good, real good.
I’ve well and truly polished off breakfast number two, now to figure out what I’m going to do with my time. On the wall next to the doors there is a large chart which runs down all the daily activities as well as the standard one available at all times. Amongst the options, they do varying dance classes, cookery classes in a range of cuisines and most exciting of all, you can learn how to make the towel animals! Awesome!
I think something not overly strenuous, but that might go a little way to reduce the stone I must have put on just since last night; kayaking, sounds fun. According to the instructions, you pick up what you need on the beach front, so stepping through the doors, gracefully held open for me and out into the now roasting sunshine, I don my sunglasses and head round towards the beach.
I had envisaged having to run through a pep talk, or sign my life away in a health and safety waiver, but to the contrary; I was briefly stripped of my sundress (luckily I had thought ahead to have my bikini on underneath) and strapped into a life jacket by a clearly practiced young man, given a paddle and pointed to a row of sea kayaks to take my pick and be on my way.
Huh, I’ve never done this before; gingerly I stick my foot out and poke the closest one person kayak. It moves with little resistance so it must be light. Lifting the end nearest the water, yes it is light, I proceed to drag it two metres across the white sand to the waters edge. Now what? The sea is mostly calm, small waves breaking just off the shore. Do I get in here in the shallows then try and push out through the breaking waves, or do I walk in past the breaks into what is probably at least knee deep water and then try to mount the unstable Kayak?
I’m starting to feel like a fool just standing here dumfounded, so I make a rash decision and march into the water, dragging my new toy behind me. Sadly the water here is deeper than I expected lapping at the tops of my thighs, and utterly freezing!
I don’t know what I expected, but in this heat the sea’s turquoise shimmer plays tricks on your mind telling you, “come on in, I’m so inviting, this is Mexico, not England, the water here’s just right”.
On the plus side I am intensely more determined to get into the damn boat, now bobbing precariously up and down next to me. Depositing the paddle inside, that’s one down, one more to go; turning my back to it, I place my hands on the side on either side of my hips and majestically jump up while pushing down with my hands. In one swift movement, just as I’m grinning that my bottom has landed on plastic, the other side flies up hits my shoulders (thankfully padded with the life jacket) and knock me straight back into the sea, face first, whilst simultaneously capsizing itself.
Spluttering salty water out of my mouth and wiping it out of my eyes, scanning the shore quickly, checking to see how many people have witnessed my clumsy feat, the life jacket man has his back to me securing the straps on a small child, but a couple of perfectly toned and tanned blonde bombshells are giggling behind their magazines, suspiciously averting their eyes and looking anywhere but at me, a sure sign that they were looking, but I think that’s about it.
Not too damaging to my reputation as a cool, savvy, solo traveler.
Righting the damn thing and retrieving the escaping paddle I’ve got to psyche myself up for round two. My plan of attack is to secure one leg into the kayak, hopefully ensuring its equilibrium, then with a hand on either side I should be able to hop my bum in then retrieve the remaining leg once I’ve stabilised. It’s not going to be pretty that’s for sure, but as long as it achieves the end result, that’s all I’m bothered about.
OK here goes, yes…no…ahh!...Yes! I’m in! Sweet Jesus that was a mission. Picking up the paddle, which is now wedged in beside me, I start rowing out, tentative at first, but then I find my rhythm. Before long I’m quite far out so I rest the paddle on my legs and have a look over the side. Even this deep the water is as clear as glass and you can see right to the bottom. Tiny fish of all different colours are darting around beneath me, they seem almost luminous as they shimmer under the rays of sun that pierce the waves, captivating; just going about their business, seemingly unaware of me watching them. I sit like this until I start to feel the burn on my shoulders. I’ve drifted back towards the shore a little, so decide to paddle along the length of the beach.
I’m used to the Kayak now, I feel like a seasoned pro, putting some effort in I pick up speed, working my biceps against the resistance of the water, feeling the cool breeze against my cheeks. I’m just rounding the first corner, when suddenly, for a split second as I fly by, the water changed to black, what was that?
Jabbing the oar into the water on one side I begin to slow and turn at the same time, then, more cautiously this time I head back to the anomaly. As I approach I can see the water bubbling and pushing up in one large circular area, contrasting to the calm of the water around it; directly below there is a black hole in the sea floor about a meter or so across. I’m dumfounded, I have no idea what this is, but it certainly looks ominous; I’m balancing carefully on the edge so I can take a good look but not actually travel over the space again. Thankfully the force from the upstream coming from the hole does a good job of keeping me pushed to the side.
Something starts to materialise from the darkness so I lean in a little closer for a better look, its moving fast whatever it is. Almost before my eyes can relay to my brain, the inanimate blob below the surface transforms into a thick piece of driftwood that then bursts through the surface with immense force, narrowly missing my head. “Shit, what the….” Instinctively I throw myself back away from it, inadvertently tipping the Kayak to within an inch of it’s life, “EEEK!” a girly high screech escapes my lips, I DO NOT want to capsize anywhere near that thing. Swinging back down I’m glad to see all this rocking has pushed me away from the black hole of doom, and I relax slightly, letting the rocking steady itself again. Taking a deep breath I start to paddle back towards the Kayak station, much slower on the return on account of my arms shaking and turning to the consistency of jelly. I can safely say Kayaking is not my thing, far too hazardous.
After returning my equipment and collecting my sundress and sandals, I ask the Kayak man what the thing in the water was; he explains it’s a Cenota, an underground river that comes out in the sea, depositing sticks and debris it picks up on the way. He makes it sound harmless, but I know better!
I grab a towel from the passing hotel worker handing them out, then straight to the pool bar for a drink. Ordering a gin and tonic I take a welcome glug as soon as the glass is passed to me. Surveying the pool side sun loungers I can see about five in a row left vacant on the far side, evidently as they are facing the wrong way for optimum tanning, but right now I just want to close my eyes and relax, so the middle one will do perfectly.
As I lay down, leaving my dress on, but kicking off my sandals, my stomach instantaneously starts to rumble. The four-sided clock mounted on top of the pool bar tells me is 10.40am, is that all? Apparently if having fun make’s time fly, then a near death experience stops it all together.
Well just relax here for a bit, finish your drink, then you can get something to eat, I bargain with myself. How I can be hungry again is beyond me, but a rumbling tummy does not lie, it must be the heat or something. I have had no appetite since Jake left, barely stomaching a cup of coffee a day, but one day in Mexico and I feel like I’ve eaten the whole eight weeks worth of food in one hit. Maybe I’ve got worms? Maybe I’m pregnant!? For a second I’m startled by the revelation, but on second thoughts I haven’t even seen Jake in two months, and it was many more months before then that we last had sex; I say ‘had sex’ because post-breakup bitterness prevents me from admitting to myself that we ever made love, the cheating bastard.
So anyway, definitely not pregnant, if I was I would be practically ready to drop by now and somehow I think there would be some more telling symptoms other than being super hungry for twenty four hours.
Giving myself a congratulatory swig of G&T I lay back down and day dream of days to come. After this mornings shenanigans I think I will take it easy for the rest of today and just chill by the pool. There are some classes that I am excited about getting in on a bit later in the week mind, Salsa lessons spring to mind. Fancy leaving the UK a pale, pasty, mess and returning a toned, tanned, Salsa expert; that would really rub Jake's nose in it, cheat on me will you? Well while you’re stuck with frumpy home-breaking Stacy, I’m a world famous, widely sort after, Sexy Salsa Goddess, just dating beautiful rich men and loving every second of my life without you.
If only three weeks were long enough for an entire body and mind transformation, but hey, a girl can dream…..
I wake once the sun has crept up my body and reached my eyes. Peering up at the clock its 12.30 and right on queue my stomach starts off complaining again. Reluctantly sitting up I drain what’s left of my drink, now sadly more melted ice than gin and head leisurely towards the breakfast bar, I wonder what buffet delights they have lined up for lunch?
After another humungous meal I head back to my room. I really should check my email and let everyone back home know how things are going. The route back follows a similar dance with the Lizards as I experienced this morning, only this time when sidestepping one, I inadvertently come too close to another one camouflaged against the grass and send it scurrying, at surprising speeds, in the opposite direction. It’s unexpected sprint making my heart leap into my mouth and I quicken my pace just a little. Lizards still freak me out.
My room is gloriously cool with the air-con on full whack. Digging through my suitcase, still unpacked, I retrieve my laptop and settle down at the vanity table to fire it up. Three emails greet me from all the usual suspects, Caz, Dad and Mick, I go for Mick’s first just in case there has been some sort of emergency at work.
From: Michael Jacobs
To: Kaitlin Mavers
Subject: Holiday!
Hi Kate,
Just wanted to send you a quick message, hope you got there safe, we are just about coping without you! See you in three weeks, can’t wait to hear all about it.
Mick
I don’t bother replying, clearly everything is fine and like he says I can catch him up when I get back.
The next I go for is Dads.
From: Peter Wall
To: Kaitlin Mavers
Subject: Missing you
Hi sweetheart,
We have just got back from the airport and your mum is insisting we send you a message for when you arrive. We are both missing you already, hope you have an amazing time there. We love you.
Let us know you arrived in one piece,
All our love Mum and Dad xxxxx
P.s your mum says to remind you to use sun cream.
Their email makes me smile, they fuss more than necessary, but secretly, even as an adult, I still love the attention they shower me with. I fire off a quick reply, assuring them I am fine, a quick description of the room, let them know I’m eating more than enough and return their loving sentiments, promising to write again soon.
Finally it’s Caz, I’m sure with much of the same.
From: Cassie Black
To: Kaitlin Mavers
Subject: Im so jealous!!!!
Hi Kate you adventurous minx!
So glad you did this, but I’m already lost without you! Is it as beautiful as the brochures? You must send me some pictures as soon as you can.
Evie drew a picture of you on a beach in the sun today, I’ve put it up on the fridge for you to see when you get back.
The house sale is going great, everything is signed and it will be finalised in no time. And great news……your offer on the dream house got accepted!!! I’m dealing with it now to make sure it all goes ahead in double time, sorry but your parents just don’t have a negotiating bone in both their bodies put together!
If all goes well you will be in within a couple of weeks of your return to old blighty.
Love you, email me with all the gossip asap!
Speak soon,
Caz xxxxxxxxxxxx
That’s great news about the house, I never in a million years thought I would get it. Even though the asking price was well within my price range my agent, but more importantly Caz, insisted I offer well below it with a promise of a quick sale. Seemingly it worked and it means I will have more than enough left to do the few renovations I wanted AND newly furnish the whole thing. I have explained to Caz that it’s all well and good moving to a new house, but if everything inside it is the same old memory inspiring crap, it won’t make any difference. So we were going to forgo the decorating in favour of furnishings, but now I can have the best of both worlds, hopefully with money to spare!
Ever since my life exploded in on itself I have had nothing but good luck, I guess after months of misery karma is finally coming round for me.
Tapping out and email back I congratulate Caz on her savvy negotiating skills, and tell her to thank her daughter for the picture. Caz is convinced Evie, (her five year old) is an aspiring artist, but in all honesty the pictures just look like any other kids drawings to me?
Promising to firstly take pictures and secondly send them to Caz, I sign off and shut down the laptop.
It’s just past 14.30, plenty of time for some more sunbathing I think. Slipping off my sundress I put on one of my new sarongs on, a hot pink little number that suggests I have more confidence than I feel. Tying it higher than my bikini bottoms in a failing attempt to cover my tummy, still bloated from lunch, I head back out to the poolside.
To my surprise there are very few people about now, maybe they are still at lunch, or perhaps having a siesta. I understand why, my head feels heavy with sleep, but I want to make the most of the glorious weather; so I figure I can just sleep on a lounger. Picking up a cocktail from the bar on the way past, I go for a tequila sunrise, I remember these from my student days and it seemed the safest option as I didn’t recognise any of the others on the list. Then I saunter over to the poolside, I get to take my pick of the prime location loungers, spreading my towel out over the best one, it’s sporting a plastic side table and an umbrella should I want to get some shade later.
I take a few swift mouthfuls of the two tone beverage, its refreshing right up until the kick of alcohol that follows. Then settling down on my front, I let myself drift off; snippets of images infiltrate my slumber, mostly of Jake, dark areas, a general feeling of dread and anger and trying to run but not being able to. The usual stuff nightmares are made of. I wake with a start an hour later, glad to find myself surrounded by the beauty of the sea and blue skies, which quickly washes away any lingering memories of the dreams I had.
Sitting up on my knees and knocking back the rest of my cocktail I wave a hand at the barman signalling for another, then wipe the sweat from my brow and turn to lie on my back for a while.
The sun is blazingly hot, every inch of my body feels like its sizzling, the tinkling of ice on glass tells me my second cocktail has arrived, this holiday is just what I needed, I couldn’t be more relaxed right now. I can feel the heat slowly relaxing me into a semiconscious state when I’m become vaguely aware of a shadow over my eyes, a cloud maybe?
"Excuse me senorita" a low husky voice penetrates my day dreams, I cautiously open my eyes, letting them re-adjust to the light.
He's tall, but still unfocused; blinking my eyes back to life he slowly takes shape. His tanned skin, his toned body, his wet tousled black hair hanging in curls to just above his shoulders, the water from them dripping down his chest glittering against the bright sun.
He's wearing the smallest pair of Speedo’s I’ve ever seen they are straining to contain his manhood. I quickly look back up to his fine chiseled face, blushing profusely when I realise his dark eyes have been watching me clearly while I have been checking him out.
"Err...yes?" is all I can manage.
"Is this taken" he purrs motioning towards the sun lounger next to me.
"Um...no, I err... I don't think so" I sound like I blithering idiot, the slowly reducing blush returns full force as he shoots me a dazzling smile. God this man is hot.
With perfect elegance he drapes himself down onto the lounger, stealing a sideways glance I can see that his whole body is wet and glistening under the sun, what I wouldn't give to run my fingers over it. Peeking up at his face our eyes meet, oh no he has seen me biting my lip and ogling over him like a horny teenager.
Quickly averting my eyes before I embarrass myself anymore, I can do nothing but return to my sunbathing. My mouth is dry but I can’t bring myself to move let alone sit up and sip my cocktail which is tantalisingly close. At least when I’m lying down it creates an illusion of a passable body, if I stretch out and breathe in and have my arms reaching above my head....
I stay like this for what seems like a lifetime, feigning relaxation, but in reality I’m so stiff and uncomfortable, with my eyes shut my other senses are in overdrive, I can actually hear his deep rhythmic breathing. It’s probably all in my head but I swear I can feel his eyes burning into me. Don’t be stupid I scold myself; it’s more likely the sun burning you.
This is ridiculous, I’m an adult, I’ve come away on holiday on my own to get away from it all and relax and right now I am anything but. Just get up and walk away my mind says, but my body is reluctant to follow.
Finally I force my eyes open, at least while I’m blinded by the sun for a few seconds I can pretend I’m the only one here.
Standing up, quickly, on second thoughts too quickly as I have to put my hand out to the back of the sun lounger to steady myself, with my other hand I grab my towel and in a flash wrap it around my body concealing my imperfections, reaching for my cocktail my stupid shaking hands nearly knocking it over, god that would have been mortifying! Clutching it tight now, I can’t resist and take a quick glance over at the Adonis who is eyeing me intently with a glint of amusement playing across his beautiful face. It takes everything I have to turn and saunter away in what I’m hoping looks like a nonchalant / confident manner.
I’m halfway across to the hotel when it hits me...shit! I’ve left my sandals behind....
It’s too late now, I can’t bring myself to return for them, so I continue to sashay as best I can till I’m round the corner out of sight.
Oh my god, I’m such an idiot, how can an attractive man reduce me into a quivering mess? Pull yourself together Kaitlin, for heavens sake. I should really go back and get my shoes, but the more time that goes by the more stupid I will feel going back, no it’s just too late. I resign to returning to my room, shoeless, I’ll just get another pair and then maybe head to the spa for a massage now my afternoon sunbathing has gone awry.
The Spa is busy, not surprising considering all the treatments are free, it’s quite possible I may spend the next 3weeks here.
They show me to the pool room equipping me with flip-flops and an unbelievably soft towelling dressing gown. Changing in the locker room, I’ve got about an hour, which is good as it will give me time to choose what treatment I want. As soon as I step foot back in the pool room a woman dressed in Spa Uniform presents me with a platter of fruit and cheese and an iced tea. Thankfully its non-alcoholic, I can still feel the effects of the day time drinking I have done so far.
Stripping my robe and flip-flops off and draping them over my chosen lounger, I head for a quip dip in the heated pool first. It’s a little crowded, but everyone speaks in hushed tones to maintain the illusion of a relaxing atmosphere. The pool isn’t huge so I spend most my time weaving in amongst the loved up couples, displaying far too much affection for a public place. I give up soon after, this is all too depressing, I’m the only single person here and consequently, the only person actually trying to swim rather than use the water to cover their indiscretions, to no avail might I add.
Leaving the pool I return to my lounger and pick at the platter, mmm it’s actually really good, each piece of fruit has an accompanying piece of cheese chosen specifically to complement one another. If I know the fruit I don’t know the piece of cheese it is with and vice versa, but the taste sensation is to die for. Before I know it I’ve finished the lot, and these platters are clearly made for two. Washing it down with the iced tea, I pick up the Treatment “menu” they have provided.
They offer everything from massages to facials to manicures and waxing! Waxing? Who wants to do that on holiday?
You can have a maximum of two treatments before coming back to the pool room and letting the next lot of people have a turn. That seems fair. I opt for a full body massage and a facial, before heading to the sauna.
Inside I am met with two fat, hairy old men; I have literally never seen so much hair on a man, front and back! I have to stop myself from retching at the sight, but I can’t exactly turn and walk back out, that would be too obvious. I’m so glad it’s a sizeable sauna, so I can sit on the opposite side and not have to be close enough to be touching them. Right on queue fat guy 1 reaches over and pours another ladle of water on the coals, within seconds fat guy 2 lets out a throaty and appreciative “aaaaahhhh”.
My stomach tenses, I’m going to be sick, steady now, just hold it together for a few minutes and then you can escape without causing offence, this is so gross.
I haven’t even noticed the heat on account of the nauseating stench of sweat invading my nostrils, the heat just intensifies it that much more. I must think about something else, looking around for something to take my mind off the god awful smell and I see it, fat guy 1 leering at me, licking his lips, oh god I should have bought my towel in with me, sick, sick, sick, sick!
I’m just about to raise my hand to show my wedding ring and tell him where to go, when I realise I don’t even have that, Caz persuaded me to take it off and leave it at home, ‘this holiday is for you, not him’ she had said, bloody Caz!
I’ve got to get out, as much as the smell of my vomit would actually improve this stench, I can’t take Fat guy 1’s roaming eyes on me a second longer.
The cool fresh, lightly perfumed air hits me with welcome relief as soon as I open the door, shutting it hurriedly behind me to keep the smell of tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum inside, I head straight for the ‘cold experience’ shower.
It does exactly what it says on the tin; Ice cold strong jets of water assault you, I stand under as long as I can hack it, ferociously rubbing at my skin, please don’t let that smell stick to me, please, please I say to myself as I go. Jumping out when the jets start to feel like they’re turning into icicles stabbing at my skin, I return to my lounger and shrug on my robe. On second thoughts maybe I won’t spend all my time here!
While I’m laying out on the lounger I subtly lift one side of my robe and take a sniff, I can’t detect a trace of the stench, good now I can relax; I feel a presence at my side, I look up and the immaculately groomed woman who delivered my platter is standing next to me, smiling warmly “you are ready, yes?” she asks sweetly. Blushing from being caught smelling myself, I quickly try and regain my composure “yes, yes I’m ready” I say, standing to attention.
She leads me out of the pool room, down a beige coloured hall, lit softly with upwards pointing wall lamps and into one of the side rooms. The lighting in here is even lower and there is a quiet, gentle classical piece of music playing on hidden speakers. A painting hangs on the left wall, a large yellow flower on a black background, simple, but beautiful.
Helping me out of my robe I’m guessing she is going to do my treatment, “you take off this” she instructs marking out my bikini top on her own front, “and lie here, Juan will come soon” she explains in broken English, with a nod she politely exits.
Juan!? So my masseur is a man, I have never been massaged by a man, not even Jake, he was never into ‘all that lovey dovey stuff’. This will be an experience to say the least.
Obediently I remove my top and drape it onto the back of the chair in the corner where my robe now lies and lay down on the bed and wait.
Presently there is a light tap on the door “um….hello?” I reply to it.
“Are you ready” purrs a deep male voice.
“Yes” I squeak back, suddenly feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.
The door eases open and he steps in, his arms a golden brown, contrasting perfectly with the white short sleeves of his tunic, which are incidentally straining at the seems to contain his biceps.
I don’t even bother looking at his face, with hands and arms like that, who really cares about the face!
“OK, my name ays Juan” his accent deliciously playing with his words.
His pause makes me answer “Hi, I’m Kate”.
“So Kate” he says as if he is exploring the sensation of my name on his tongue, “Today we domassage of full body, you tell me with they pressure, yes?” I vaguely get what he’s on about, but he could really say anything to me in that accent, in that deep velvet voice and my reaction will be the same – “Hmmm”.
He folds the towel carefully down covering my behind, but exposing my upper body, his fingers lightly brushing my naked body as he does it, sending tingles down my spine.
Walking round the bed so he is stood in front of my head I’m taken with an overwhelming desire to adjust my head so I can check out what he’s packing, if you know what I mean! But as he bends down to sprinkle some sweet smelling oil over my back it occurs to me that this manoeuvre could end up with me head-butting him right in the crotch. A giggle escapes my lips, which as I feel him momentarily stop sprinkling I quickly turn into a cough. Graciously he does not mention it, I’m guessing he must get this kind of behaviour a lot, at least I hope it’s not just me. Kate you are such a child I scold myself, mentally straightening out and re-setting my face into a more serious pose.
His hands are warm as they firmly take hold of my shoulders, his thumbs running circles from front to back, this is so…sensuous.
“They pressure?” he questions.
“Hmmm” I reply appreciatively, I could take it harder, but I don’t want to say anything and offend his expertise. Anyway, to give him his dues, it feels amazing.
I don’t know what it is, I’ve had massages before, but none have made me react this way. Is it really just because he is male, or is he more skilled? Is this how they are meant to feel, gender aside?
As he leans down running his thumbs down the length of my spine, his hands are surprisingly soft, I find myself, without even thinking, raising my body in an arch that follows the path of his fingers.
As he pushes down first the left then the right side of my body I ever so slightly ease each shoulder back to accommodate him and silently will his fingers to take full advantage of me.
He is, frustratingly, ever the professional, but as he gently raises the towel to cover my back and moves down to my legs I’m all but writhing beneath him again.
He starts at my feet, I’ve never been a fan of people touching my feet; I’m far too ticklish, but his firm grasp and slow movements instantly dissolve my tensions and quite frankly turn me on.
He gradually works his way up, past my ankles, onto my calves; as his fingers slide past my knees I feel that familiar fluttering in my groin. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this, in my everyday life it was just another factor amiss, glazed over and put aside in view of more important responsibilities.
But here and now, in this room, with its soft sensual lighting and exotic ambiance, with this taught young man pushing his fingers up my thighs, tantalisingly close, skimming over the line of my bikini bottoms before retreating back down, it’s an all too real, sexual torture.
I’m longing for his touch, for him to lift me off the bed and ravish me, right here, right now. As I part my legs a little wider, I’m thinking what more can I do to make this invite more obvious? I tentatively let out a small moan hoping to let him know my intentions, but he just keeps working away, unknowingly teasing me infuriatingly.
All too soon it’s over. I am relaxed yes, but satisfied no. “There’s Miss Kate, you rest, then you dress when you ready. Take all ze time you want” he whispers as he bows out of the room, leaving me all charged up with no one to f*ck.
Oh well, in the sex department I am used to being left disappointed. All in all I would do that a thousand times more, over even the best of Jake's efforts.
The facial is non-eventful; one of the female staff does it, along with a head massage in the process. I wonder how I would have felt if this too was done by a man, I’m not sure being stroked in the face is quite so erotic mind.
Its around 19.00 when I finally leave the spa, the sun is low, casting shades of pink, orange, yellow and purple across the darkening sky as if by some aspiring artist using bold brushstrokes across the horizon.
Acting like a horny teenager has really taken it out of me, so I lug my heavy limbs back to my room, for room service, then bed.
Climbing the stone stairs I can see something at the top, reaching my door there is a pristine white box with a flourish of blue and white flowers, almost like a corsage, attached to the lid of the box by some unseen force.
I’m confused! I twirl round expecting the perpetrator to be standing behind me, hopefully with an explanation.
I instinctively give the box a little shake, trying to fathom its contents as well as its origin; Hold on, this isn’t Christmas, I am perfectly within my rights to open my mystery gift, besides the suspense is killing me.
Rushing into my room, giving the heavy wooden door a good push to swing shut behind me, I skip over and leap onto my plush, bouncy bed. Placing the box down carefully in front of me my hands are actually shaking, I love presents. Gently slipping the lid off I’m met with a sea of pale blue tissue paper, one by one I lift each layer out. What I eventually reveal is……….My sandals. Oh what a let down, the staff must have noticed me leave them and delivered them back. They always go the extra mile here; in the UK they would be chucked in a lost and found box, or even just thrown away, but not Mexico. Mexico delivers them back to your door in an exquisite package.
Lifting them out to haphazardly throw them in the direction of my still unpacked suitcase, I catch a glimpse of a gold shine in the bottom of the box, reaching in I pull out a piece of hard white card with a golden boarder of intricate leaves and vines. In black ink, with impeccable looping hand writing, it holds a note -
‘Senorita,
you left your shoes behind by the pool today, I hope it was not on account of me scaring you off. I would be honoured if you would allow me to take you to dinner as way of an apology?
Sincerely Carlos (Room 442)’
Oh my! My hands are shaking and my breathing is suddenly shallow and rapid, it can’t be, it just can’t. The Adonis wants to take me to dinner?? Searching back through my memory I scour the image to see if I remember anyone else around who may have reason to send this; but no, the area was all but deserted and he is certainly the only person I had any kind of exchange with, other than the bar staff, but the note would not make sense coming from them.
Oh Jesus, it’s got to be him. My heart is going 100 miles an hour, what am I supposed to do? I desperately want to ring Caz, she would know in an instance what to do. It’s still early so I could, it will be expensive, but hell I’ve got the money, sod it, I’m calling her!
“Hello?” Caz’s voice is questioning.
“Hi it’s me” I reply cheerily oblivious.
“KATE! What’s happening how is it? Is it hot? Why are you ringing so late?” I’m bombarded with questions.
“Late? It’s only Seven?”
“Seven? Maybe there but it’s gone midnight here!” she laughs back at my obvious mistake.
“Oh Caz I’m sorry, I completely forgot about the time difference, I just called because I need some advice”
“Advice? That sounds ominous” her voice taking on a serious quality.
“Not ominous per say…” I explain my predicament carefully leaving no small detail unsaid.
“My, my, you have been busy” she starts “but I fail to see the issue here?” she states as if it’s so straight forward.
“Fail to see the issue?” I snort “the issue is he is way out of my league for a start, not to mention I haven’t dated in ten years so I wouldn’t even know what to do. It kind of feels like I’m cheating, I am still technically married, and what if he wants, you know…sex” I almost whisper the last part.
“For God’s sake Kate! It’s nothing like cheating, we both know you and Jake are over, it’s always going to be weird moving on at first, but what better way to do it than with a hot holiday romance? And as for the ‘sex’ bit” she whispers it back mocking me, “don’t be so ridiculous, I’ve seen you in a bikini and you rock it, everything is still where it’s supposed to be, not ravished by child bearing stretch marks like me. I would give anything to have your body, seriously you have nothing to worry about in that department.” She is so blunt, I just wish I had her confidence.
“But what if it’s changed, you know, I’ve only been with Jake for so long and he wasn’t exactly the most adventurous type. Even if I could get over the thought of the Adonis seeing me naked, then what?” I’m starting to sound pathetic and whiny I can hear it in my voice.
“No one is even saying you have to have sex with him, why not just go on the date and see how it goes? Maybe after a few Mojitos you’ll feel differently and if not then just make your excuses and go.” Caz cuts in, compromising.
“I guess” I say slowly coming round.
“Look I’ve got to go, it’s late and I need my beauty sleep, but promise to call me and let me know all the details though yeah?” I guess this is all the advice I’m going to get out of her tonight.
“Yeah, I promise”. We say our goodbyes and I’m left holding the embossed card going over possible scenarios in my head. Caz is right of course, I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to, it’s just dinner, I can have dinner no problem. Dinner with a stunning, toned, bronzed, unattainable man. How could that possibly end badly?
With shaking hands I take a deep breath and pick up the phone again, dialling for reception “Please connect me to Room 442”.
There is a pause before the receptionist speaks and I can hear the questioning in her voice as she courteously obliges and connects me through. After a couple of rings I suddenly chicken out, what am I doing? I can’t do this, it’s too soon, I’m not ready to date let alone anything else. I slam the receiver back down just as I hear him answer. Shit that was close, but I’m doing the right thing, yes it’s true, I am at best a 6 and he is a 10, no scratch that, he is a 20! But that doesn’t mean I have to go there. It would just be a waste of time anyway, there is no way he likes me, he was probably just drunk at the time, so thought I looked better than I do, yeah that was probably it, he won’t even recognise me if I bump into him again. Oh man, what if I bump into him again? This whole thing is just too awkward!
A sharp ring snaps me out of my thoughts, the phone, no it can’t be.
“Hello?” I try hard to sound carefree
“Hey, this is Carlos, I just had a call from your room, Mrs. Mavers right?” now that’s how you sound carefree.
“Umm…yes…sorry I…I err…thought you weren’t in” a grasp for a plausible explanation as to why I slammed the phone down on him.
“Oh, that’s OK, I was hoping you were calling about dinner” if he realises I changed my mind mid-call he is not letting on.
“Well, yes I was as it goes” regaining a little of my composure, “and itsMs Mavers….Kaitlin” why did I say that? Being married would have been the perfect get out clause if this dinner gets too steamy.
“I am sorry,Ms Mavers….Kaitlin, you have a beautiful name” the glee in his voice is palpable. “It is maybe a little late for tonight, plus I have some business to attend to, but are you free tomorrow? I could pick you up from your room at Seven?” His accent is addictive, but I can’t quite place it; his English is perfect, the pronunciation spot on, but there is a certain twang to it that suggests it may not be his first language.
“Seven, yes that should be fine, I guess I’ll see you then.” At this stage I am coming across a little too formal, stern even.
“Until then, buenos noches Senorita” I just melt on the spot, replacing the receiver I bring my knees up and hug them the school girl grin plastered across my face, he is sooo dreamy!