Sun, Sea and Spotted Squid (The Novellas #1)

Chapter 1

ONE

France lay below like the skin of a huge beast with interlocking veins.

If Sam Davis squinted, they became roads with little cars and lorries zooming along.

From the first time he’d been on an aeroplane as a kid, Sam had loved to stare out of the window.

All those lives being played out beneath set his imagination rolling.

“And what is it you’re doing in Spain?” Mrs Talkative, his seat neighbour, asked. Sadly, she didn’t take the hint at his turned shoulder.

“I’m going to be working at the Oceanogràfic,” Sam replied. He relaxed in his seat, cursing himself that he’d left his earbuds in the bottom of his bag. It would be mean to dig them out and pointedly stick them in his ears as she spoke. Wouldn’t it?

“Oh yes, I know what that is,” she said, holding up a guidebook as evidence. “That’s the aquarium near the beach.”

He nodded and gave her a weak smile.

“I’m surprised your mother is letting you come out here for the summer,” she continued.

Sam had recently celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday, so his mother didn’t really have much of a choice. In typical fashion, she’d cried buckets at airport Departures.

“She wants me to be happy,” he told Mrs Talkative.

“What a wonderful mother.” She popped her mini bottle of prosecco with a shriek of glee and poured herself a glass. “Bottoms up. Here’s to happy holidays.”

Sam took a healthy swig of his beer and watched as Mrs Talkative sipped her fizz as though she’d never done anything so wild in her life.

Two hours later, Sam found himself in a taxi.

He’d managed to lose Mrs Talkative at the baggage carousel.

It was the only thing to do. She’d been ruminating on whether she should come and check out his room.

It wouldn’t surprise him to discover her to be a sleeper agent dispatched by his mother to keep an eye on him.

The view from the taxi seemed like any other European city. Huge furniture shops gave way to bigger supermarkets, which in turn submitted to bigger warehouses. Even so, Sam had his nose glued to the window, taking in the city that would be his home for the next eight weeks.

As they came closer to the centre, the modern buildings slowly changed to older, dustier ones.

People on the street replaced the hard shoulder.

Young people crowded round a motorcycle.

Three women gossiped on the corner. A group of men were making their way into a bar.

And Sam couldn’t wait to dive into it all.

He’d been to Spain a few times before, but his family preferred all-inclusive hotels to a city break. When the opportunity to study abroad had presented itself, Sam seized upon a new experience….and it appeared that he’d got one.

“There is a kite festival soon as well,” the taxi driver said. He’d taken it upon himself to give a running commentary.

He would be here for the whole summer. He could go to that festival and he wasn’t even bothered about kites.

The car turned onto a busy road and to the left were treetops on a level with the car.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

“Ah,” the driver replied, puffing up his chest. “That is the Turia Riverbed Park. The jewel in our crown. Down below the road, where the river once flowed, lies a beautiful park.”

Sam frowned. “What happened to the river?”

“Years ago, they were sick of the flooding, so they simply rerouted it and made the park from the land. My grandfather worked on it, you know.”

Sam hadn’t been too great at researching into the place he would be calling home. After studying for his Master’s, he’d struggled to find the motivation to pick up yet another book. He had, however, read online that the park led to the Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències.

“Is the aquarium down there?” Sam asked.

“Ah yes, so many buildings toward the sea.”

Sam craned his neck to see if he might be able to spot the huge structures he had actually studied online. But nothing.

“You won’t see it like that. You want me to detour?” the driver-cum-tour-guide offered.

A tempting offer, which Sam declined. He wanted to find his digs and fellow workmates first.

Sam had never been the type with wanderlust. He’d been happy to wave school friends off as they went to find themselves in far-flung places. Instead, Sam settled on finishing his studies. Of course, there had been plenty of fun on the way.

Today made up for all that lost excitement, especially now they were on the cobbled streets of the old town. Sam peered out of the windows, trying to get his bearings. People were on both sides of the narrow street, jumping onto the pavement as they drove past.

Eventually the taxi stopped outside a nondescript bar with a couple of people smoking on the street. The sign appeared to be half-hanging off the wall and the rusty yellowy-white furniture in front had seen better days.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver cheerfully announced.

“We are?” Sam echoed, his heart sinking. “Damn.”

He rustled in his bag to retrieve the letter from the aquarium to check the address. They were here. Perhaps it would be better inside. The letter said to use the door to the left of the bar.

Standing in the street, Sam stared up at the grimy windows. The smokers outside the bar watched him with interest. Putting on the best confident face in his repertoire, he picked up his spectacularly heavy suitcase and made his way through the door and up a filthy staircase that greeted him.

By the time he’d reached the top, he held on to the wall to catch his breath. Perhaps squeezing every item of clothing he owned into the suitcase hadn’t been the best idea. But Sam liked choices.

He’d agonised over his arrival outfit. First impressions counted after all.

In the end he’d settled on jeans and a navy polo shirt.

Tight to show off his slim waist. He caught a glimpse of himself in the cracked mirror at the top of the stairs.

His carefully styled dark blond hair had gone fuzzy.

Other than that, he didn’t look too bad.

A stunningly beautiful girl appeared out of one of the doors. With piercing blue eyes and white-blonde hair, she exuded sex.

“Hola,” she said, staring him up and down.

“Hi, I’m Sam Davis.”

“Ah, typical Brit. Doesn’t know the language and expects us all to know his.”

Sam wasn’t enjoying the smirk on her lips.

“Hola. Encantando de conocerte. Soy Sam Davis.”

She had the decency to give an embarrassed laugh. “Silly me. I shouldn’t judge a book by the cover, should I? I’m Astrid Strom.”

They stood staring at each other for a second before she must’ve realised she’d barred his way.

“Come in,” she said.

Sam followed her down the corridor. To his horror, his feet were sticking to a carpet which clearly hadn’t seen a decent vacuum cleaner in decades.

A door on his left lay open. Inside, another girl busied herself hanging up clothes.

“Maria. This is Sam,” Astrid called.

Maria stopped dragging items out of her suitcase long enough to give him a wave.

They carried on to the end of the passage, which had three more doors.

Before Sam had a chance to ask about the winding staircase which must lead to another floor, Astrid pointed to the door on the left which had a poster of a rock band called Satan’s Flesh peeling off it.

“That’s Genevieve and Paul’s room. They’re in there doing things that couples do.”

She giggled.

The overwhelming smell of old fried food had started to make his eyes water. He couldn’t tell if it came from one of their rooms or from downstairs.

Astrid appeared to be taking charge of everyone. How had they managed to form a tight group already? Sam hated being the last to arrive anywhere. He would much rather be the first and let things build around him.

Astrid pushed open the middle door to reveal the smallest kitchen Sam had ever seen.

A gas cooker covered in stains and a tiny larder fridge suggested he would probably be eating out a lot of the summer.

The stench had doubled in here. He tried desperately not to turn his nose up but he had not expected this.

When he’d read he would be living in the old-town area of Valencia, he’d visualised high ceilings and a pretty balcony to watch the world go by.

Behind the final door, she showed him a matching tiny bathroom.

“I’ve given it a good clean,” she said, peering at him.

Maybe I’m not hiding my feelings very well.

“Thank you,” he said.

That meant his room must be up the steep stairs.

“We planned on going out for something to eat,” Astrid said. “See you in an hour?”

“Oh. Okay.”

With that she set off down the corridor to her room before stopping halfway.

“Choose whichever of the two rooms upstairs you like. The final member of our group doesn’t arrive until later.”

He nodded and half carried, half dragged his case up the stairs. It caught on a piece of the peeling wallpaper and managed to rip it off, sending some plaster scattering onto the threadbare carpet.

“This place will cave in around us,” he muttered.

At the top he discovered a small landing with three doors.

He peeped through one into what had to have been a storeroom at some point—the proportions were tiny.

So much for attics having the biggest rooms.

A quick peek through the middle door revealed a shower room, which left one final door. Sam grabbed the handle.

“Double or quits,” he said to himself.

He pushed it open and discovered what would be his home for the next eight weeks.

A lumpy bed sat against one wall, with a black lacquer bedside cabinet to the side. A wobbly desk and wardrobe completed the furnishings.

This is only a place to sleep. I’ll be out most of the time.

He plonked himself down on the bed and took a minute.

“You’ve made it to Spain,” he murmured. “Everything else can be sorted.”

His heart hammered in his chest. Everything familiar to him seemed a long way away. He swallowed down his nerves.

The view from the window showed the rooftops of the town stretching ahead to the cathedral in the distance. It reminded him of when he’d first arrived at the halls of residence at university. Some people had been nervous. Not Sam. He couldn’t wait to get going.

He took a picture of the view and sent it to his mum.

Greetings from Espana. It’s lovely here.

It wouldn’t be a good move to show her his room.

She would go mad. His case sat in the corner.

He had all the time in the world to unpack.

Instead, he sat up on the windowsill and watched all the people coming and going.

That part of his Spanish fantasy was coming true at least. Even if he had to crane his neck.

An hour later, he ventured downstairs to meet the others. After a closer inspection of the upstairs bathroom, he opted for a sink wash. A deep clean of the facilities would have to wait until tomorrow. Weirdly, both bedrooms led off the bathroom. He’d have to remember to lock both doors.

In the kitchen he happened upon a couple feeding each other pieces of ham.

“Bonjour,” the girl said. She had poker-straight hair and a serious addiction to eyeliner. Maybe she’d actually put the Satan’s Flesh artwork up.

“Bonjour,” he replied.

“This is our Brit then,” the man said. He was shorter than Sam with a killer tan and soft brown eyes. After a couple of drinks, he would be quite attractive. “I am Paul and this is Genevieve.”

“Sam.”

They all stared at one another awkwardly.

“Where shall we eat?” Paul asked, mercifully breaking the stalemate.

“Oh, we have to have paella,” came a voice behind Sam. He spun round to find Astrid beaming at him. “We’re in the birthplace of it, after all.”

“Do you like paella, Sam?” Paul asked.

“I love it. I do eat more than egg and chips, you know,” Sam said. “In fact, I make a mean paella myself…probably not in this kitchen, mind.”

They all agreed and Sam let his shoulders drop a little.

“Paul has been reading about the best paella place in Valencia,” Genevieve said whilst staring adoringly at him. “It’s only a few streets away.”

“That’s settled then,” Astrid declared.

“Pronta,” Maria said, over Astrid’s shoulder.

It was a momentous occasion. They were all together for the first time.

“Selfie,” Sam commanded.

Everyone got in for the picture.

“We’ll have to do another one when the other guy arrives,” Maria said. “Otherwise it’s not fair.”

Sam had almost forgotten about their missing member.

“What’s his name?”

“Wolfgang,” Astrid said. “I saw it on the email.”

Wolfgang?

That sounded butch. What would he be like? They would find out soon enough.