Chapter 8
‘Hi Monica,’ I say as I stroll past her cabin towards my own, carrying an armful of clean linen. Monica is sitting on the small deck of her newly moved into, Rep in Charge cabin next to Tim, who was relegated to the smaller cabin Monica used to occupy. ‘Hi Tim, what are you guys up to?’
‘Oh, just planning out the week,’ Monica replies, which strikes me as odd given there is no paperwork visible. ‘And waiting for the tour to arrive,’ she adds as an afterthought.
‘A night off for both of us, eh?’ Tim says. ‘I love the two-night tours that go to Monaco on the first night.’
‘Me too!’ I agree enthusiastically. After all, I have plans.
Tim has become much more likeable and much less annoying now that he isn’t bumbling around trying to run things.
Now that Monica has the operation running on rails, Tim is proving quite handy in the kitchen under her strict instruction.
The change in power dynamic seems to have also improved Monica and Tim’s relationship, if how close they are sitting together now is anything to go by.
‘We’re all going for pizza at the campsite bar then a few drinks once Brain and Tara get back from the beach,’ Tim says, ‘want to join us?’
‘Maybe,’ I shrug. ‘I’ll ask Jock what he wants to do when he gets here,’ I say, smiling smugly.
‘Whaaaaaat?’ Monica shrieks, ‘we’re finally going to meet your man of mystery?’
‘Yes,’ I grin like an idiot. ‘I finally convinced him to come and see where I live. He wasn’t keen, but I guilted him into it.
I reminded him that he’s NEVER been here, and I go to where he is every night.
Although not to where he actually lives…
’ I muse. Brushing off my momentary concern.
‘I think he wants to take me out for dinner somewhere near the water. He should be coming off a train in about an hour,’ I ramble with excitement.
‘Soooo, you need to change your sheets?’ Tim asks, winking at Monica.
‘Whatcha got planned, Bella?’ Monica asks, nudging Tim in a conspiratorial way.
‘I’ve got nothing planned, thank you very much,’ I bristle. ‘I just don’t want him to think I’m a slob IF he comes into my room, that’s all. He’s very much going back to Monaco tonight on the 10.15 pm train, mark my words.’
5 pm
I glance around my small room.
The double bed is freshly made with crisp white sheets and covered with a textured white duvet, a fluffy cushion in a shade of dusky pink adds colour.
My wooden chest of drawers is tidy with only a framed family photo on top showing a beaming pair of red-haired teenagers with an older version of themselves and an out-of-place-looking dark-haired stepfather, his arms protectively wrapped around his family.
The only art on my wall is a print I bought from one of the green boxes along the Seine in Paris on my way here at the start of the summer, Théophile Steinlen’s iconic 1896 poster, Le Chat Noir.
I check myself in the full-length mirror propped in the corner of the room.
I’ve tied my wild red mane back in a ponytail except for a couple of tendrils that have escaped and hang free on either side of my face, which is mostly free of makeup, aside from a lick of mascara and lip gloss.
Over new, white matching underwear, I’ve pulled on an Indian cotton, loose-fitting sundress in a shade of duck egg blue.
It complements both my skin tone and my eyes.
I’m not expecting the underwear to be seen, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
A pair of strappy sandals complete the look and will be comfortable enough for walking to the restaurant if I can’t convince Jock to stay here instead and socialise with my workmates.
I throw a small handbag over my shoulder, ‘right’ I say to myself, ‘let’s go’.
I order half a pint of lager from Aymeric behind the bar, take it and join Tim and Monica at a table outside with a clear view of the campsite’s main entrance and driveway.
‘Salut,’ I say, raising my glass and taking a long sip of the cold liquid. ‘What time is the coach arriving?’ I ask.
‘Scooter, the tour manager, phoned reception to say they got away late from their last stop, so they’ll be here closer to 6 pm,’ Monica says.
‘They won’t have long to get through the showers, dressed up and back on the road for Monaco,’ Tim adds.
As I take a sip of my icy lager I see Jock sauntering through the main campsite gates and around the barrier arm that stops vehicles from entering until they have clearance from the stern campsite receptionist to do so.
I’ve never seen him in casual daytime clothes, I realise as I admire him from afar as he approaches.
He looks from side to side, assessing his surroundings, looking for the bar where I’d said I’d meet him, as I surreptitiously check him out.
He has on bright white Reebok casual trainers with no socks.
His legs, which I’m seeing for the first time, are muscular and tanned with just the right amount of dark leg hair.
A pair of khaki-coloured cargo shorts starts just above his knees and are held at his waist with a leather belt.
A pristine white linen shirt is unbuttoned enough to show a bit of his muscular chest. His facial hair is more 6 o’clock than 5 o’clock, and his eyes are covered with dark mirrored sunglasses.
His hair, hidden under a denim baseball cap pulled down low on his forehead.
A few metres behind him, Tara and Brain are returning from the beach wearing minimal clothes, towels slung over their shoulders, they look happy and relaxed.
…
‘Hi!’ I wave to Jock when he’s close enough to hear me. I walk purposefully slowly to meet him, not wanting to give away to my coworkers how excited I am to see him. I greet him with a warm embrace and a quick kiss on the cheek.
‘Hi Bella,’ he smiles, returning my embrace. ‘So this is where you live, eh?’ he asks, looking around.
‘Yip, this is it, home, sweet home,’ I say, taking his hand ready to lead him to the bar.
‘So, are you ready to go out for dinner?’ he asks, starting to turn back towards the gate.
‘What’s the hurry?’ I tug his hand toward the bar. ‘Come and meet everyone.’
‘Who’s everyone?’ he asks nervously .
‘The people I work with. My friends.’ I tug again on his hand.
‘Just for a minute though, eh?’ he replies, ‘I’m starving.’
Brain and Tara arrive at the table seconds after I’ve led Jock to where Monica and Tim sit anxiously awaiting our arrival.
‘This,’ I say to them pointing to the handsome man beside me, ‘is Jock. Jock, this is Monica, Tim, Brain and Tara,’ I smile at my coworkers.
‘Hiiiiiiiiii,’ they reply in unison.
‘Nice to meet you Jock,’ Monica starts. ‘We’ve heard a lot about you.’
I shoot Monica a look.
‘All good I hope,’ Jock laughs, looking at the ground and nervously tugging his cap lower on his forehead.
‘Of course,’ Tara assures him.
‘How was the train ride?’ Tim asks.
‘Fine. Yip. Pretty straightforward’ Jock replies to Tim, then to me, ‘Right then, shall we go Bella?’
‘Um, right. Sure.’ I agree, feeling a bit confused. Why is Jock in such a rush?
‘It was really nice meeting you all,’ Jock says, grabbing my hand leading me away and down the driveway.
As soon as there is distance between us and everyone else, I feel him relax.
What I don’t hear is Brain saying, ‘Why did he say he got the train? We just saw him get out of a flashy black BMW, which he parked around the corner.’
9.30 pm
‘That was the best seafood platter I’ve ever had,’ I say to Jock as we walk hand in hand back through the campsite gate. ‘Oysters are an aphrodisiac, you know,’ I smile up at him .
He pulls his baseball cap out of the back of his shorts, returning it to his head and pulling the peak down.
‘Oh, I know!’ he says. ‘Straight to your cabin so I can show you how much,’ he laughs.
Music is blaring from the campsite bar, the sound of talking and laughter barely audible above it.
‘Shall we pop into the bar and have one drink?’ I ask, not sure I’m ready to have Jock in my cabin just yet, especially a Jock fuelled up on oysters and my defences potentially lowered by a couple of glasses of rose.
‘I’d rather check out your room. I don’t want to share you,’ he says, pulling me past the loud party.
‘Okay,’ I relent, ‘but we won’t have long, you have to get on that train.’
‘Yes boss,’ Jock laughs.
‘It’s a long walk,’ I joke. ‘Have you heard of Dreamstreet?’ I ask.
Jock stops in his tracks. ‘Why?’ he asks.
‘This is one of their songs,’ I point towards the bar where, visible through the open glass doors, people are bouncing up and down on the dancefloor. ‘Seems they are pretty big at the moment, it’s just about all I get asked to play on the drives home.’
‘Oh, right. I don’t think so,’ he turns his face away from the music and the bar as we pass. ‘I’m more of a Coldplay fan.’
‘Me too!’ I agree enthusiastically.
‘This… is it,’ I say once we are inside my small cabin, mood lighting provided by a small lamp I left on earlier.
‘Where’s the bathroom?’ Jock asks.
‘Outside,’ I laugh. ‘There are communal campsite bathrooms about 50 feet away.’
‘You have to share your bathroom with strangers?’ he asks.
I nod.
‘There goes my sex in the shower fantasy,’ he says as he swoops me off the floor and onto my back on my bed.
‘That might have to be at your house then,’ I reply, my voice husky.
Jock lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me gently at first, then with more urgency.
I wiggle from under him, forcing him onto his back.
I straddle him, hovering my groin tantalisingly millimetres above his.
Cupping his face with my hands, I lower my lips to his and we resume kissing.
Finally lowering my groin onto his, I begin to rock gently back and forward, enjoying the friction.
I can feel his passion growing. Jock grasps my waist pushing our bodies closer together momentarily before he breaks our kiss and sits up, lifting me up with him.
‘Unless you want me to miss my train, we’d better stop this,’ he says. ‘But this… this is unfinished business, Bella,’ he rasps.
The thought of finishing this ‘business’ makes my cheeks flush hotter than they already feel.
Jock plants a kiss on my forehead and then my lips as he bids me farewell at my cabin door.
‘You better walk fast, or you’ll miss that train,’ I say, pushing him gently out the door.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says.
I admire his physique as he strides down the campsite driveway until darkness swallows him.
What I don’t see is him sliding his cargo shorts onto the black leather seat of a sleek Series 3 BMW, putting it into gear, making a sharp U-turn and speeding towards the motorway back to Monaco.