27
Marcus is out early this morning, running on the beach.
He’s decided it’s about time he started looking after himself a bit more.
Being out of the city for several days has made him appreciate the fresh air and local wildlife down here, inspired him to clean up his act a little.
Luckily, he had packed some trainers and kit just in case and he is enjoying the feel of brine in his nose, the rhythmic pounding of his feet on firm wet sand while he listens to some good old-fashioned techno beats.
He passes some council workers who have started erecting the bonfire, ready for tomorrow night’s celebrations.
What is it the locals are celebrating, he wonders.
The end of summer? Which is a curious thing, if so.
God, they must love and hate the season, all the tourists, in equal measure.
Can’t live with them, can’t live without them, he guesses.
As he nods at the men, he notices how they are a mix of all ages, just like those who work on the building site.
Grey-haired, red-cheeked older men alongside what look like their sons and even possibly their grandsons.
They all have a similar appearance to them, like they are all related in some way.
Or is it just that they have grown up in the same close-knit community?
Do people come to resemble each other like that over time?
Surely not. But he can almost see three generations employed in the same job and the idea makes him uncomfortable.
No thanks, he vows to himself. Having your whole life mapped out for you, following in the footsteps of your elders, living with your parents because you can’t afford a place of your own, staying in the same small town for the rest of your life.
Oh he’s sure plenty of them head off to university or leave to find work elsewhere but it must be hard for those who want to stay or have no other choice.
And he knows how difficult it is to make your way in the world when you come from nothing.
He thinks of his mum, living in her little high-rise flat on the outskirts of London, refusing to move even when he offered to buy her a proper house.
They grew up in that flat together – she was only 19 when she had him – and it’s all she can imagine now.
She says she doesn’t want to go anywhere else, can’t leave her friends, the familiarity of it all.
But he doesn’t understand why she stays when she could do so much better, have so much more.
He wants her to have a garden, not just a balcony, although she faithfully tends the planters and flower boxes and it looks quite nice.
No, it’s because she doesn’t believe she deserves it. Doesn’t think she’s worthy. That’s what being a single parent can do to someone. Especially when you’ve been chewed up and spat out. Taken advantage of, used and abused, and then abandoned by someone who makes you feel like you’re trash.
Marcus pumps his arms harder, forcing his legs to move like pistons as he powers along the road and then up the steep driveway towards the hotel.
He bites down, gritting his teeth, refusing to slow up until he reaches his destination.
It is in sight, he is almost there and he can’t, won’t give up now.
Leaning against the wall by the side of the entrance, breathing hard, waiting for his pulse to slow, he stretches out his legs, pushing each one back and extending his arms forward.
He looks as though he might push the hotel building over, if he only could.
Send the whole lot crumbling to the ground.
His earbuds are still blaring loud music into his brain when a call comes through and he reaches for his phone tucked into his shorts pocket. It is Olivia, so he walks away from the entrance and into the undergrowth of the trees and bushes which conceal the driveway.
‘What’s up?’ he says into the air, as though having a conversation with himself.
‘You sound out of breath,’ comes the reply.
‘Just been for a run.’
‘Gosh, you are good. I can’t remember the last time I even jogged anywhere. Yoga’s more my pace these days,’ she says with a laugh. ‘And sexercise, of course,’ she adds with a girlish giggle.
Marcus feels himself cringe inwardly as he looks about at the tall trees that surround him. There is an awkward pause that suggests there is no real purpose to this call.
‘I could do with a shower,’ he says. ‘I’m dripping. Too hot for running, or work, or anything else really.’
‘Do you have to be back on site today?’
‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘I know but I was hoping we might actually be able to spend some time together. Sneak off somehow. It’s killing me, being around you like this. All this pretending, lying. I wish we could just come out and have done with it.’
‘Hmm, not a good idea, I’m afraid. As soon as Tobias finds out about us I expect he might pull the financial plug, don’t you? Just be patient. It will all be worth it in the end.’
He hears her moan softly but then agrees.
‘Okay. What are you planning to do tomorrow night?’ she asks instead.
‘Probably just staying here at the hotel along with all the other guests. Apparently, everyone gathers on the terrace at 10pm to watch the display, according to the receptionist.’
‘Yes, I thought so too. But listen, I was wondering. What if I was to tell Tobias I was heading back to the room early? I’ll say I have a migraine from too much sun and champagne.
He’ll want to stay up and continue drinking as it’s Saturday night.
He’s already buttonholed a couple of other guests he knows from previous seasons, so I’ll encourage him to carry on and celebrate without me. ’
‘And?’ he prompts.
‘And we could find somewhere nice and private to meet. No one will notice we’re gone, what with the fireworks and everything else going on.’
He sighs, feeling an enormous sense of fatigue rolling over him. He needs a glass of water, to sit down and rest.
‘Okay, sure. Do you have anywhere in mind?’
‘No, not yet. Do you?’
‘I’m sure I can think of somewhere.’