Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
WILL
Day Two
Ollie’s here. He’s landed in Athens sooner than I’d imagined and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t turned notifications on for any social media posts from his accounts.
Okay, play it cool.
Why wouldn’t Ollie be in Athens? That’s the whole point of being here. He was always going to arrive at some point. It’s was hardly surprising.
But tell that to my beating heart. Panic-stricken thoughts make me get ready in a flash. One minute I’m showering, the next I’m in the lobby walking past Lydia, who ignores my wave as I enter the restaurant for breakfast. Though she smiles, as if she’s enjoying playing with me.
In the breakfast hall, I barely register what is going on around me, lost in anticipation of seeing Ollie again at some point in the next few days.
He’ll want to meet me, won’t he, before the wedding?
I’m vaguely aware of tables being full and of the smell of cooked breakfast filling the room.
Grabbing a fresh orange juice, piling my plate with scrambled eggs, tomato, feta cheese and sesame bread rings, I trot over to the nearest table, fully set on checking Ollie’s socials, maybe even texting him.
But then I see what I am surrounded by, and the plate of food almost slips from my grip.
Quickly placing my plate and glass on the table, I have to rub my eyes like a cartoon character to be sure I’m really seeing what’s going on around me.
Exposed flesh.
Dangling bits.
Naked people.
Everywhere I look, nakedness.
Okay, so is this a prank?
A dream?
Some adrenaline-fuelled hallucination?
Sinking into my chair, I call Alice, keeping my voice low, trying to fade into the background. Hard to do when you’re the only clothed person in a room.
When she answers, she’s already going about her day, ready for the school day ahead. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Naked people,’ I whisper, lips stiff in case anyone can read them.
‘What?’
I can’t show her. That would go against many laws and moral responsibility. I keep the WhatsApp call as close to me as possible. ‘There are naked people in my hotel.’
‘Ey, up.’ Tim and Jemima, clutching plates of breakfast. Tim and Jemima’s dangling bits in all their glory.
‘Looks a lovely day out,’ Jemima says.
‘Definitely.’ I squeak.
They make their way to their table, only a few feet from mine. I slide down in my chair.
Alice laughs. I’m glad someone finds this funny.
‘What is your hotel called?’
I give her the name and focus on my food. Never have I been so interested in sesame seeds.
Her laugh draws some attention from nearby naked people, and I smile at them to assure them that everything is okay, and that I’m totally fine with nudity at eight in the morning.
‘What’s so funny?’ I ask.
‘Will, did you look at this hotel before booking?’
‘No.’ The memory of that night is hazy. I was drunk. I saw nice photos, read something about relaxing with no inhibitions, and booked.
‘You’ve booked into a nudist resort,’ Alice says. ‘Apparently the first in Athens.’
Old and young, well, legal age, of course, sitting in this room, baring it all. Only one other person has clothes on, if you could call a crop top and Speedos clothing. The rest sit on dainty white towels, eating with tiny forks and knives, without any worry in the world.
‘You have to be kidding me.’
‘You’re only now realising it’s a nudist resort?’ Alice asks.
Tim and Jemima. It makes so much more sense now, especially after they didn’t bat an eyelid at my nakedness, which had been unintentional in the privacy of my room.
‘So, what do I do now?’
‘Get naked,’ Alice says this as if it were obvious.
‘Alice, I can’t.’
‘Yeah, you can,’ Alice says. ‘I’ve known you for years, Will. You’re no prude. You used to dance at house parties in your underwear. I’ve even seen you naked.’
‘Yeah, by accident,’ I say, recalling walking out of the shower and finding Alice in my apartment. She’s always had a key.
‘Same thing,’ Alice dismisses. ‘You have nothing to be shy about … if you catch my drift.’
‘I don’t like you knowing these things about me.’
Alice laughs. ‘Best friends know everything. Plus, Ollie told me once that it was enormous—’
‘Yes, okay, enough.’ We can’t talk about this here. Not with all these people around me. I blush like everyone knows, but of course, nobody’s listening. This place is literally judgement free.
‘Chill, Will,’ Alice soothes. ‘Not all of us can be nude in Greece. Embrace it.’
‘How’re my plants?’ I ask.
‘Watered and thriving,’ Alice replies. ‘Now make like a tree and get naked.’
We say our goodbyes, leaving me to finish my breakfast and orange juice and avoid all eye contact.
I stare at the table, zoning out. I amble out of the dining room as soon as I’ve swallowed my last bite, like I don’t care about anything.
I’m so overdressed in a white vest and shorts that it’s making me self-conscious.
Once out of sight, I practically run to Lydia, who has the reception phone pressed to her ear.
‘A nudist hotel?’ I gasp.
‘Yes?’ Lydia looks bored. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know.’
I shake my head and Lydia breaks out into laughter, hanging up on whoever she was on the phone with. Probably a guest. They ring back almost instantly, but she doesn’t bother picking up.
‘It’s why I doubted if you actually did mean ha penis.
I wondered if halfway through typing your tragic tale you realised it was a nude hotel and you had to add ha, penis, halfway through.
’ She almost cracks. I can almost hear the laughter begging to be released.
‘You can only be nude in certain areas.’ She gestures to the greater world outside.
‘Not out there. The lobby is clothing only.’
‘No, fine, I’m totally cool with this.’ I straighten up. ‘Yeah, nudity. Whatever.’ That’s why my voice is rising.
‘First time, I’m guessing.’
‘It might be.’
Lydia smirks.
‘I remember my first time.’
‘You’re a nudist?’ She’s in her uniform. Now that I know what hotel this is, maybe all the staff should be nude.
‘I dabble,’ Lydia says. ‘It’s scary at first, but you soon realise nobody cares.’
‘I can see that.’
‘Are you uncomfortable with nudity?’
Oh God. Now she thinks I’m some kind of nudephobe.
‘No, not at all, no.’ Looking around, I don’t know why it didn’t hit me sooner. The nude artwork on the walls, and the naked sculptures, which I originally thought were just part of Greek culture, kind of like all the history books depict.
‘A homewrecker and now you hate nudists.’
I point a finger at her, immediately regretting it. ‘I don’t hate nudists and I’ve reconsidered the whole homewrecking thing.’
Lydia sniffs. ‘You have?’
‘Yes, I have.’ My snooty tone is enough to make Lydia shake her head. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking and I have decided that I will simply speak with Ollie and move on with my life.’
‘Sounds like it’s overdue,’ Lydia mutters.
‘Sorry?’
‘If you want to find another hotel, I can help you,’ she says, turning to her computer. Her macabre game is back on the screen.
‘No, wait. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting it. I’ll adjust.’ Does she want rid of me or something?
‘Understandable,’ Lydia says. ‘Would have helped if I handed you this.’
The phone rings again. She glances at it, letting out a long sigh, like a yoga meditation.
It comes to an end when the phone stops ringing.
She turns back to me, opens a drawer, takes out a leaflet.
‘House rules’ for nudity. Looking through it, the lobby is the only place where you have to wear clothes; anywhere else, not so much.
‘Hm, this may have helped.’
‘I forgot,’ Lydia deadpans.
‘Look at this. A whole nude cruise.’
‘Will you be going?’
‘Absolutely not, Lydia. Oh, and look. Life drawing classes.’
‘Mm.’
‘I’m sorry, am I bothering you?’
‘No.’
I pause. ‘Do you like me, Lydia?’
‘Undecided.’
‘Okay, well, let me know when you’ve decided, and we can go from there.’
The phone rings and this time Lydia snatches it up, which definitely feels like my cue to leave and not at all a sign that Lydia would rather talk to an annoying hotel guest than me.
Outside, I get a sweating can of cold Diet Coke from the supermarket next door, and wait on the corner for Sam, who is giving me my first Athens tour today. My nerves jitter. Where will he come from?
When he arrives, the knot in my stomach eases. He waves, wearing a very loose white vest and red shorts, his bare feet in sliders. He’s clutching a Polaroid camera. Really, he looks magnificent. He pulls me into a hug, fitting next to me well.
‘Ready for an adventure?’
‘Sam, do you know anything about The Laurel Hotel?’ I blurt.
Sam looks from me to the hotel entrance, eyes wide, ‘Oh, no, nothing at all.’
He’s way too airy. ‘You knew?’
Sam cracks. ‘Everyone knows,’ Sam says. ‘Didn’t you know?’
‘No, I did not,’ I say. ‘Oh, Sam, you must think I’m a’—my voice drops—‘nudist.’
‘Well, when people say they’re staying at The Laurel, they’re normally going for the whole “as nature intended” experience.’
‘I had a shock,’ I say. ‘I went to breakfast this morning and there were naked people.’
‘Again. Nudist hotel.’
‘I can’t believe it.’
‘You’re not a nudist,’ he confirms.
‘I’m not,’ I admit. ‘But, like, do I want to be?’
‘Do you?’
Sam stares at me.
‘Have you ever…?’
‘No.’
My foot traces the floor. ‘Never wanted to?’
‘Never had an excuse to.’
Good lord.
I put my hands behind my back, like a Victorian gentleman. ‘Would you…?’
‘Get naked?’
‘Yeah.’
Sam ponders. ‘Probably.’
This is dangerous territory. But I need to find out what friendship I can rekindle with Sam. Hopefully one that is fun, cheeky and adventurous. Just like our younger years.
I definitely don’t want to see him naked, by the way.
‘You know, I’ve got a rooftop pool, if you ever wanna join.’
Sam laughs. ‘You’re funny, Will.’
‘Had to try.’
We walk slow, enjoying the heat.
‘I didn’t say no,’ Sam says, after a few moments. ‘I just don’t have swim shorts.’
‘It’s a nudist hotel,’ I remind him.
‘Let’s wait to see if we can fit it in. We’re on a schedule.’ Sam taps the side of his temple. After buying two bottles of ice-cold water, he points to the mountain where the Parthenon is visible atop the Acropolis. ‘Ready for a hike?’
‘Always,’ I say, even though when someone suggests a hike to me, I usually suggest they fuck off.
At first, the walk to the Acropolis isn’t that bad.
It’s all cute streets of shops selling bracelets and statues and lovely-looking linen.
We pass old ruins of a library, while cats loll in the shade, evading the heat.
There’s even a pretty courtyard coffee shop that I ask to go into on the way down, but Sam wrinkles his nose as if it’s some rival.
But then life makes an enemy of us.
The road begins to slope, incline ramping up towards Athens’ preserved history. Sam walks ahead, his stride unaffected. How does he do it? My breath hitches in my chest; the cold water is the only thing that keeps me going.
Gravel crunches under my feet, thighs burning, and every time Sam looks my way, I plaster my sweating face with the most nonchalant expression I can muster. When did I get so unfit?
I clutch a railing on a particularly steep set of stairs, heart pounding, feet slipping.
We emerge onto flat earth, and I want to do a Katy Perry and kiss it.
Fuck going to space. This is high enough.
I hunch over, bracing myself on my knees as a man plays a guitar, singing ‘Make You Feel My Love’.
When I look up to see how much further we’ve got to go, Sam stands before me, hand outstretched.
My hairs stand on end with the chill that runs over my skin, despite the heat and the sweat of the climb. I take Sam’s hand, allowing him to steady me.
‘You did it,’ he says, giving me an encouraging slap on the back. ‘Just up there is the entrance.’
The walk to the entrance is slow, Sam by my side. The singing man’s dulcet tones fade away, but stays with me. That song feels too special for such a moment between two friends.
Sam pays our entry, and even at the top of the Acropolis, we still have to climb.
I pause at the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, looking out over Athens.
‘Are you all right?’
I hold up a hand, lifting the cold bottle to my lips, and drink until there is no water left.
Sam smiles.
‘Don’t look at me that way.’
‘Did I walk too fast for you?’
‘Too fast?’ My voice rises an octave, hands swinging. ‘You were just fine. So slow. Didn’t have to keep up at all.’
Sam laughs. ‘Sorry.’
‘Oh, don’t apologise.’ I put the empty bottle in my backpack. ‘I should go to the gym more.’
‘You’re fine as you are,’ Sam says. I meet his eye. ‘I’ll go slow for you.’
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’
We fall into rhythm, discovering the history of the ruined theatre in front of us. Sam takes a Polaroid picture, slipping the developing film into his pocket.
‘The first theatre in Greece?’
‘That would be the Theatre of Dionysus,’ Sam replies. ‘At least in Athens it’s the first. It gave us the Greek play.’
‘Wow.’ I breathe. ‘Shakespeare would be nothing without this. This Dionysus fellow. He important?’
‘Of course, he is,’ Sam says. ‘He’s the god of wine.’
‘What a great thing to be a god of.’
‘And he’s hot.’
I blink. Sam thinks Dionysus is hot?
‘Come on. You haven’t seen anything yet.’
Sam falls into sync with my pace, as we walk past the temple of Athena Nike.
The scorching sun is upon us as we crested the top of the stairs, walking through the shadows of Propylaea.
I stop for a moment. I regret drinking my water so quickly, throat feeling dry.
Is this how dehydration starts? Is this what it’s like to get lost in the desert, no water, no way of getting out?
Sam, reading my mind, offers me some of his. With plenty left, I drink graciously, and try to distract myself from how, moments ago, his own lips had been where mine were.
Sam’s skin glistens under the sun. Sweat and lotion adorn the nape of his neck and arms, highlighting his fine blond hairs. He smooths his hair with his hand, adjusting the cap he wears, tousling it into an even more unruly look.
Tourists jostle past us in both directions. A mother and her child, a lone man, and…
Oh my God.
Ollie.