Gin on the Rock (EBOOK)

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Chapter One
Soon after my wedding, I realised that one of the most difficult things about marrying a man twenty years older than myself was having to meet people that knew him far better than I did.
I tried not to let it bother me but sometimes, when Bob introduced me to an old friend, particularly a female friend, I couldn’t help but wonder exactly how friendly their relationship had been.
I never worried that someone from the past might come between us because I knew Bob loved me and I adored him but sometimes, when I watched him chatting or laughing over past experiences, I felt a bit of an outsider.
I didn’t want to interrogate him about everything that had happened before we met but I longed to feel close to him and looked forward to building our own hoard of shared memories. As a result, I had mixed emotions when Bob first mentioned Anna-Maria.
He told me that she ran an English-language school in Spain but, as it was the summer holidays, she and her husband, Arturo, were visiting Devon and he had invited them both to join us for a meal.
‘When are they coming?’ I asked.
‘Not until seven o’clock.’
‘What? Today?’
‘Yes. That’s not a problem, is it?’
‘No, of course not.’
I looked around at the grubby covers on the sofa and the piles of designs spread across the table where I was working.
‘I guess I can leave this until tomorrow,’ I said. ‘It is the weekend, after all.’
‘True.’ He smiled at me. ‘It will do you good to take some time off.’
I spent the rest of the day cleaning the house.
As I worked, Bob told me more about Anna-Maria. He explained that they had met ten years ago, in the early seventies, when she had been teaching at a school in Exeter before returning home to start her own academy in Spain.
‘You’ll like her,’ he assured me. ‘She’s artistic too so you’ll have lots in common. I’ve never met Arturo but I think he’s a lawyer.’
I guessed they would both be cultured and sophisticated and I wanted to make a good impression on them.
Glancing around the lounge, I realised how stark it looked. Since our wedding, Bob and I had been preoccupied by starting our new business and there had been no time to think about making the house feel like a home.
Most of the furniture had been donated by other members of the family and nothing matched. It was comfortable enough but suddenly I felt guilty that I hadn’t made more effort.
Hurriedly, I sponged the worst of the stains off the sofa, turned over the cushions, carried all my artwork, my papers and the light-box up to the bedroom and vacuumed everywhere.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about cooking. Bob was an excellent cook and always jumped at an opportunity to try out a new dish. After poring through his books, he settled on a recipe for Chinese chicken in ginger sauce and disappeared to the supermarket for ingredients.
Later, as I laid the table, the aromas wafting through the house were amazing but, as always when I had to meet new people or visit new places, I began to feel apprehensive.
On the dot of seven, the doorbell rang and I heard a ripple of laughter as Bob greeted our guests. Moments later, a striking woman in a floor-length floral dress swept into the room and threw her arms around me.
Anna-Maria was tall and slim with magnificent black hair piled high on her head and held in place by an ornate tortoiseshell comb.
‘You must be Diana,’ she trilled in a warm, heavily accented voice. ‘I am delighted to meet you! Robert has told me much about you. How beautiful you are!’
Her perfume caught in my throat and made my eyes water. I wanted to cough but was afraid it would seem rude.
‘This is my husband, Arturo,’ Anna-Maria continued without waiting for me to speak. ‘He is a bore. You can ignore him. He doesn’t speak English so here I can say what I want. The truth is he is only good for money and in bed.’
‘Oh…’ I glanced at the tall, scowling man hovering behind her and was lost for words.
But Bob burst out laughing.
‘Isn’t that all you women want from a husband anyway?’ he asked as he poured drinks and handed them around.
‘True,’ Anna-Maria giggled. ‘Here, it is a perfect match, but at home people expect me to listen to what he says and pretend to care. It is a nightmare.’
‘I’m afraid I have to finish off in the kitchen, so I’ll leave you two to make friends,’ Bob said as he abandoned me.
I sat down in an armchair, clutching my wineglass, and Anna-Maria sank gracefully onto the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her and glared at Arturo who was still standing in the doorway. He muttered something under his breath but crossed and slumped down beside her. At once, she fired a stream of Spanish at him and he nodded curtly in my direction.
‘I tell him, he is rude,’ she said. ‘I tell him he is a guest in your lovely home and he should make an effort. It is not difficult, is it, to be pleasant for a few hours?’
‘Doesn’t he like England?’ I asked.
‘He does not like anything. He is a miserable bastardo,’ she replied sweetly, ‘but soon he will drink too much wine and then he will sleep.’
I searched my mind for something to say but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
‘Do you like being married?’ Anna-Maria asked curiously.
‘Oh, yes, we are very happy,’ I assured her.
‘That is good. And how is everything in the bedroom?’
I spluttered into my wine.
‘Fine.’ I tried to keep my voice level. ‘No complaints at all.’
‘That is good,’ she said, watching me intently. ‘You are lucky. Not many women can say such things.’
I could feel my cheeks burning and my heart starting to race.
‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out before she could say anything else, ‘I think Bob needs me in the kitchen.’

* * * * *

‘Don’t get upset,’ Bob laughed as I told him what had happened. ‘She’s just more open about these things than most people.’
‘But I don’t know her!’ I protested. ‘I can’t talk about our sex life with someone I’ve just met!’
‘Then talk about the weather.’
Bob was ladling the food into serving dishes and the grin on his face was infuriating.
‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘I’ll wait here. You’ll need me to help carry everything in.’

* * * * *

The meal was delicious. Even Arturo seemed to cheer up but that may have been to do with the steady supply of red wine.
As we ate, Anna-Maria explained her plans for the language school in Seville. She had persuaded Arturo to invest a lot of money in a new building to provide extra student accommodation. She was sure the key to success lay in offering special activities and short courses during the school holidays.
‘English is more important than ever,’ she explained. ‘Every parent wants their child to have English but it is so old-fashioned for children to sit at desks and learn from books. It is not fun. Today they want to learn by activities, by cooking, by drawing, by doing sports…’
‘How can they learn a language by doing sports?’ Bob frowned.
‘Because they don’t think they are learning,’ Anna-Maria replied triumphantly. ‘They want to play sports but they can’t play if they don’t understand the referee. You see? It’s to make them want to learn.’
‘I suppose that makes sense,’ Bob said doubtfully.
‘Of course, it is not instead of the usual lessons, it is to go with them. It is about motivation. The parents understand that. That is why they will pay a lot for these courses, because we will be doing things that are fun. Things that the kids will want to do but all with real English people.’
‘Do you have any teachers lined up?’ I asked.
‘We will not be using teachers. We have teachers all the year. What we need is people with passion for their subjects. People who can inspire the children to get involved.’
‘What about drama?’ Bob suggested. ‘They could perform a play in English. You could put on a full production if you wanted, with costumes and scenery. I’ll bet there are loads of kids that would enjoy that.’
‘My God! That’s brilliant!’ Anna-Maria’s eyes sparkled with excitement. ‘You could direct it, couldn’t you? You would be magnificent with our children.’
‘I have directed a few productions for youngsters,’ Bob admitted.
‘Then that’s agreed. We must do this!’
I glanced at Bob, expecting him to protest, but he was looking as excited as Anna-Maria.
‘We could do something with music,’ he suggested. ‘Kids love singing.’
‘Yes, we have wonderful musicians in Seville. It will be magical. And we can sell tickets. The parents will be able to see their children performing in English…’
Her words were interrupted by a loud grating noise that ran up my spine and tingled through my skull.
‘What was that?’ I asked.
Anna-Maria flicked her head dismissively.
‘Arturo. He is an animal. My husband crunches his bones like a dog.’
I was amazed to see that she was right. Arturo had a chicken drumstick in his hand and, as he gnawed at it with his teeth, I could hear the splintering crunch of bone.
Bob and Anna-Maria were lost in their conversation and took no notice of Arturo’s eating habits but I could think of nothing else.
My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting stomach ulcers if I accidentally swallowed a fragment of chicken bone, and the realisation that the man across the table from me was deliberately crunching his way through a whole drumstick filled me with horror.
Every so often, Arturo stopped and picked morsels from between his teeth with one of his long fingernails.
I felt repulsed and fascinated at the same time and found it very hard not to stare at him. Once, he caught my eye and I looked hurriedly away, pretending that I was busy with my own food, but the thought of what he was sending down to his stomach had ruined my appetite. I laid my knife and fork down quietly and sat twisting my wedding ring around my finger.

* * * * *

It was only later, when we were getting ready for bed, that I wished I had paid more attention to the conversation.
‘But you were there,’ Bob insisted. ‘You must have heard what we were saying. You even nodded when I said what a great idea it was.’
‘Did I?’ I asked. ‘I don’t remember that.’
‘You must do. I said how great you would be as my assistant. You’re really good with kids.’
‘No, I’m not. I don’t even like them.’
Bob looked genuinely surprised.
‘Well, it’s a bit late to tell me that now. You should have said something while we were planning everything.’
‘I thought you were just talking,’ I protested. ‘I didn’t think you really meant to go through with it.’
‘Of course I do! You don’t get an opportunity like this every day. Two weeks in Spain? It’s ridiculously well paid and all we have to do is help a few kids put on a show. It will be an adventure.’
‘But I can’t speak Spanish.’
‘That’s the whole point. We only have to speak English. There will be people there that can translate if the kids really need help but we will just talk to them in English.’
‘It still seems a bit rushed.’
‘Well, it’s too late to change your mind now,’ Bob said huffily. ‘It’s all arranged for next February.’

* * * * *

For a while, I considered refusing to go but I didn’t want Bob to feel I had let him down. He loved Spain and was really looking forward to our visit.
To be fair, he took everything very seriously. He spent weeks preparing scripts, listing props and costumes, writing out a lighting plan and finding sheet music for the musicians.
He even visited a solicitor and arranged a formal contract between us and Anna-Maria. At the time it didn’t strike me as being strange that Anna-Maria hadn’t arranged that herself.
Finally, on a wet afternoon in February, we set off for Bristol airport.
Just before we left the house, the phone rang but when Bob answered it the line went dead.
‘Probably just a wrong number,’ he had said as he hung up.

* * * * *

We arrived in Seville at 11.30pm. After retrieving our suitcases and clearing customs we hurried through to the main entrance where we had arranged to meet Anna-Maria.
The air was warm and balmy after the wintry weather we had left behind in England and I was impressed by the smooth marble floors and the tropical-looking palm trees that were dotted around the airport.
Bob was pushing a luggage trolley, piled high with our suitcases, and stopped beside a row of chairs.
There was no sign of Anna-Maria.
‘You stay here. I’ll go and see if she’s waiting outside.’
I settled myself into a chair and watched him head off towards the tall glass doors. I tried to relax but an uncomfortable doubt was building inside me.
It was a long time before Bob returned and he didn’t look happy.
‘I think I’ll have to phone her,’ he said. ‘There must have been a mix-up over the times.’
‘OK,’ I agreed, ‘but do they have any public phones here?’
It was 1984 and mobile phones still cost as much as cars.
‘I saw some by the entrance but they only take pesetas. I’ll have to buy some chocolate or something to get some coins.’
‘Good plan. I could do with some chocolate.’
I tried to smile but I think my nervousness must have shown because Bob put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick kiss.
‘Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine,’ he said. ‘Life is better with a little adventure.’
It felt like hours before he returned. This time he was looking really worried.
‘Did you manage to get through?’ I asked as he sat down beside me.
‘Sort of…’
‘What did she say?’
‘Well, it was a bit odd. She sounded strange. She said she’d tried to phone me earlier, then she started speaking in Spanish.’
‘What did she say?’
‘I’m not sure…’
‘I thought you could speak Spanish?’
‘I can, a bit, but I don’t think she was talking to me, I think there was someone else there.’
‘Arturo?’
‘Maybe…’
‘Did she say anything else?’
‘She asked where we were so I told her we’d just landed in Seville…’
‘What did she say then?’
‘Nothing. The line went dead.’
‘What? Did you phone her back?’
‘Of course I did, but it just went to answerphone.’
‘Maybe she was trying to phone you?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I kept on trying until I ran out of coins but it went to answerphone every time.’
We sat in silence trying to make sense of the situation.
‘So, what do we do now?’ I asked at last.
‘I’m not sure,’ Bob admitted. ‘We’re going to have to find her and see what’s going on but I don’t really want to turn up on her doorstep in the middle of the night.’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘What time is it anyway?’
Bob looked at his watch.
‘Nearly two o’clock.’
‘Can’t we just stay here?’ I suggested. ‘These seats are pretty comfortable and I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open.’
Suddenly a tannoy announcement reverberated around the airport.
‘What was that all about?’ I asked but Bob only shook his head.
A moment later an English translation rang out.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, Seville airport will be closing in ten minutes. Will you please collect all of your luggage and exit through the doors at the front of the building. Thank you.’
‘They’re joking! They can’t mean the whole airport is closing?’
‘I think they do,’ Bob said as he rose to his feet. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time.’
‘But where are you going?’ I called after him.

* * * * *

True to his word, Bob was only away for a few minutes.
‘It’s all sorted,’ he said happily. ‘Follow me.’
‘What do you mean, sorted?’
He was pushing the luggage trolley towards the exit at such a speed that I had to hurry to keep up.
‘I’ve found a taxi driver that says he can take us to a hotel.’
‘Really? Does he speak English?’
‘Not exactly, but I managed to make him understand.’
‘Great.’
The taxi was old and a little shabby but the driver smiled and winked at me as he held the door open. Settling into the back seat I peered through the window into the darkness and could soon make out bushes flashing past and the occasional headlights of another vehicle. After a while, I saw streets illuminated by the glow of orange lights, wide pavements, white buildings with shuttered windows and neatly spaced trees at the sides of the road. Everything was deserted.
My eyelids began to droop and I felt sure we must soon reach the hotel, but instead the taxi kept on driving.
I must have fallen asleep because I was woken by an angry voice shouting something in Spanish. As I rubbed my eyes, I realised the taxi had pulled up at a kerbside and I could see people milling around on the narrow pavement outside.
I peered around but couldn’t see anything that looked like a hotel. Music was playing somewhere nearby but it felt like a residential area and a run-down one at that.
The driver jumped out and began unloading our suitcases from the boot and Bob went to help him. By the time I had gathered my bag and coat and climbed out of the taxi the driver was disappearing into a narrow alleyway with our luggage.
‘Where are we?’ I asked Bob. ‘I thought he was taking us to a hotel.’
‘This is a hotel. At least, I think that’s what he said.’
We followed the driver along the dark alleyway until he stopped and knocked on a heavy wooden door set into the wall.
Bob was as calm and relaxed as ever but I was growing more anxious by the moment.
‘It doesn’t look like a hotel to me,’ I protested. ‘Why isn’t there a sign over the door?’
‘This is Spain. Things are different here…’
‘But we don’t even know where we are. What if…’
I stopped as the door swung inwards and an elderly woman appeared. The driver spoke to her, waving his hand at the pile of suitcases, and she immediately held an open palm towards Bob. He pulled a few notes from his wallet and handed them over.
With a grunt, the woman turned away and disappeared into the interior of the building. In her place, the driver stepped forward with another extended palm. Bob gave him a few coins and we were left alone with the luggage.
‘I guess we’d better follow her,’ Bob said cheerfully.
I felt I would rather have stayed in the street for the rest of the night but I heaved my suitcase off the pavement and followed Bob inside.
The narrow passageway was dark and windowless with occasional wall lamps that gave out such a feeble light I couldn’t even make out the colour of the carpet.
We turned a corner and I was surprised to see an internal courtyard filled with tables and chairs. In a corner, lit by a faint glow of moonlight, a group of young women were sitting drinking. They took no notice of us.
The passageway ran around three sides of the courtyard and, on my right, the wall was punctured by windows that opened straight into bedrooms. Some of the windows were obscured by billowing, gauzy curtains but others were wide open and I could see figures sprawled in the beds. It was clear that very few of them were sleeping.
‘This really doesn’t look like a hotel to me,’ I whispered, trying to keep my eyes on the courtyard.
‘I think you might be right,’ Bob admitted. ‘I’m sorry about this, but it’s only for one night, I promise.’
Ahead of us, the old woman opened a door and signalled for us to enter.
Dumping my suitcase on the floor I stood and looked around the room. Apart from a double bed, there was a single light bulb dangling from a bare cable, a small table and a single chair.
‘I’m sorry, honey, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.’
Behind me Bob sounded deflated and miserable. I turned and saw the disappointed look on his face and suddenly my sense of humour returned.
‘It’s OK,’ I grinned, ‘I can’t wait to tell my mother we spent the night in a Spanish brothel.’
‘You’re not really going to tell her, are you?’
Bob sounded appalled and I couldn’t help laughing as I shook my head.

* * * * *

The room was hot and stuffy and shadowy figures, silhouetted by the moonlight, passed back and forth inches from our window.
Outside, there was a constant babble of voices from the women in the courtyard and an interesting variety of noises from the other bedrooms.
We lay, fully dressed, on the duvet, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the hours to creep past.

* * * * *

By seven o’clock the next morning the sun was shining from a clear blue sky as we carried our suitcases along a quiet suburban street.
Luckily, Bob had found an English-speaker who had directed us to the local bus station and had even told us which number we needed to get to Anna-Maria’s address.
‘Here, this must be the one.’
Bob was ahead of me and I struggled to catch up. He was standing at the gateway of an elegant villa that lay back from the road surrounded by lush greenery and well-maintained flower beds.
‘Do you think they’ll be up yet?’ I asked, looking up at the shuttered windows.
‘I hope not,’ Bob said grimly. ‘You stay here, I won’t be long.’
I watched as he strode through the garden, stepped onto the wide verandah and pressed the doorbell.
Nothing happened for several minutes. Then I saw the front door open and, even at that distance, the look of dismay on Anna-Maria’s face was unmistakable. I couldn’t hear what was said but, a moment later, she opened the door wide and Bob disappeared inside.
It was nearly twenty minutes before he returned.
‘Well?’ I asked. ‘What did she say?’
‘It was all a bit embarrassing, to be honest,’ he replied. ‘She started apologising and making all sorts of excuses but the truth is that she’s got herself into a right mess.’
He picked up his suitcase.
‘Let’s find a café and I’ll tell you on the way.’
‘OK.’
I fell into step beside him.
‘I already knew that Arturo had invested a lot of money in the school,’ Bob continued, ‘but apparently he left all the day-to-day running to Anna-Maria. It turns out that was a big mistake. Not only has she spent everything he gave her but she’s run up a huge debt as well. Now he’s found out, Arturo’s stopped her spending anything else and cancelled all the holiday courses, including our show.’
‘How’s that going to help?’ I asked. ‘Surely the students will want their money back?’
‘I’m sure they will, but I think there’s more to it. Something more personal. I think Anna-Maria’s been trying to get back at him for something.’
‘They certainly didn’t seem very happy when they visited.’
‘No, they didn’t,’ Bob agreed.
‘But where does it all leave us?’ I asked. ‘You’ve done so much work and we’ve got all the scripts and everything…’
‘It leaves us with nothing to do for two weeks until our flight home.’
‘And nowhere to stay and no money,’ I sighed. ‘What on earth are we going to do?’
Suddenly Bob grinned.
‘Wait, I haven’t finished yet. It gets better. While Anna-Maria was apologising, Arturo walked in with a face like thunder and tried to throw me out.’
‘He didn’t!’
‘He certainly did. He was screaming abuse and threatening to get the police so I called his bluff and pulled out the paperwork.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Arturo may not speak English but he can recognise a legal contract when he sees one. And ours has a clause saying that if the show is cancelled with less than a month’s notice, they have to pay us in full.’
‘Does it?’
‘Yes. Anyway, he must have realised I wasn’t going to give in quietly because he’s agreed to pay us today, in cash. We have to come back in two hours to collect it.’
‘Really?’ I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘You don’t think he was just saying that to get rid of you?’
‘Possibly. We’ll find out in a couple of hours, won’t we?’

* * * * *

Luckily, we found a small café just around the corner as my suitcase was growing heavier by the minute. There was nothing to do but wait so we sat on the small metal chairs lining the pavement and ordered a delicious breakfast of cheese-and-ham tostadas.
I would have enjoyed the novelty of sitting in the sunshine watching the world go by and enjoying the beauty of Seville if it hadn’t been for my apprehension about what was going to happen next.
We had done nothing wrong but I had a wild idea that Arturo might have the police waiting to arrest us when we returned. Could he claim that we were trying to extort money from him? I knew I was being ridiculous but I felt vulnerable and a long way from home.
Finally, Bob looked at his watch and said we should start walking back.
The sun was warm on my head and shoulders and my arms were beginning to ache with the weight of the suitcase.
Again, I waited at the gate as Bob rang the villa doorbell. This time a young man in black trousers and a white shirt opened the door and let him in.
A few moments later, Bob reappeared and ambled down the path towards me. His smile told me all I needed to know.
The suitcase didn’t feel nearly so heavy as we retraced our steps to the café and treated ourselves to brunch. I felt as though we had won the lottery.
‘What do you want to do?’ Bob asked happily. ‘We have two whole weeks, a full wallet, and nothing to do but relax and explore. Where do you want to start?’
‘Anywhere but here,’ I laughed. ‘I don’t want to risk running into Anna-Maria again.’
‘Fair enough. Then let’s go to Granada. I’ll show you the Alhambra. It’s the most amazing palace, absolutely beautiful. You’ll love it.’
Bob sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sun on his face. With his dark eyes and olive complexion he fitted perfectly into his surroundings.
‘Are you sure you don’t have any Spanish blood?’ I asked.
‘Maybe I do,’ he smiled, ‘but if so, it must be part of a dark family secret. My parents were as English as it’s possible to be. I don’t think either of them ever travelled abroad.’
‘Then how come you love Spain so much?’
‘National service. In the sixties everyone still had to do their stint in the forces. If I’d been born a couple of years later, I would have missed it but I’m glad I didn’t.’
‘And you got sent here?’
‘Not exactly, I was posted to Gibraltar.’
‘Is that a part of Spain?’
Bob’s eyes opened wide.
‘Certainly not! Gibraltar is British. It’s been British for centuries and the Gibraltarians want it to stay that way. The Spanish want it back, of course, but I can’t see that ever happening.’
‘Where is it, exactly?’
‘Gibraltar? It’s at the southernmost tip of Spain just across the sea from Morocco. It’s quite small, just one enormous rock, really. It’s connected to Spain by a narrow spit of land but it’s practically an island.’
‘And what did you do there?’
‘I was with the RAF, mostly in Air-Traffic Control. I got to know the American crews that were based there so, whenever I had a couple of days off, I would hitch a lift with them. I managed to travel all around Spain and North Africa that way.’
‘That must have been amazing.’
‘It was. I had some great times.’
He sat upright as a thought struck him.
‘That’s it!’
‘What is?’
‘I know what we should do! The Alhambra will have to wait. I’m going to take you for a gin and tonic at The Rock Hotel!’
‘Really? Where’s that?’
‘It’s the best hotel in Gibraltar. There’s a terrace overlooking the sea and, in the evening, you can sit and watch the sun go down over the mountains of Africa. It’s absolutely magical.’
‘Sounds fabulous,’ I agreed. ‘Let’s do it!’