Between You and Me (12 page)

‘Who was that?’ I gasp as I bend over at the waist, trying to catch my breath. It was a long jog from hotel room to beach.

‘Morning, sleepyhead,’ Sal kisses me and starts trying to lay out the beach towels, the sea breeze whisking them up and making it an impossible task.

‘Sal? I said
who was that?
Who was that woman you were talking to?’ I straighten up and glare at Sal.

‘Oh, her. That was Amaryllis. Can you believe that name? It’s brilliant. I think we should name our first daughter
Amaryllis
.’ Curly hair whipping in the breeze, Sal snakes an arm around my waist, trying to pull me close.

‘Sal. Fuck off. Who was she and why were you talking to her? This week is supposed to be about me and you, not some old slag you picked up on the beach. She looked like a right old hippy.’ I pull away, folding my arms across my chest in a gesture that states
don’t come near me
.

‘
Charlie.
Bloody hell, I was just being friendly, all right? She’s here with her boyfriend – Matt, I think his name is – and she was asking me about the pier. I was just chatting to her, not about anything specific. And that’s a bit harsh, calling her a slag. I barely spoke to her. She seems really nice.’ Sal mimics my arms-crossed-stay-back posture, but I’m not sure if it’s unintentional or to take the piss out of me.

‘Well, don’t. OK? I want this week to be about you and me, not collecting random strangers on the beach. I’ll never see you when we get back; you’ll be off doing all sorts of teacher-y type stuff, while I’m going to be working ridiculous hours at the new office. I don’t want to spend this week hanging around with weirdos. Don’t just leave me in the hotel room; wake me up, for God’s sake.’ I grab the other end of the towel that Sal is trying and failing to lay out properly. ‘And give me that end, for fuck’s sake. You can’t even do that right, can you?’ Sal stares at me, seemingly a bit lost for words.

‘Sorry, Charlie. I didn’t think. I just assumed you would want to sleep in. Of course, this week is about you and me. I won’t speak to Amaryllis or her boyfriend again, if that’s what you really want?’

‘Good. You know I’m only saying this because I love you so much, Sal. I don’t want to share you, not for this week.’ I finish with the towel, satisfied that it’s as straight as it’s going to get, and pull Sal towards me.

My words must have had some sort of effect on Sal, as we spend a brilliant day together snorkelling under the pier again. Sal goes into the little hotel shop to buy an underwater camera and we use up the film on shots of the angelfish under the pier, and take photos of ourselves pulling ridiculous mugshots under the water. That evening, as we are sitting at our table after dinner waiting for the cabaret to start (not my usual idea of a great way to spend the evening, but it’s all the hotel can offer), Amaryllis and her boyfriend enter the room. Spying us, she makes a move towards our table but Sal avoids her eye and gets up to leave.

‘I’m going to get a drink – do you want one?’ Sal whispers urgently and I shake my head. I still have a full glass of wine in front of me, as does Sal, but I’m not going to stop Sal from leaving the table. Sal squeezes behind my chair and heads for the bar. Amaryllis (I mean really? Hippy parents? Or maybe she changed her name? She’s probably called Sandra) reaches our table and holds out her hand for me to shake.

‘Hi – Charlie, right? I’m Amaryllis. I met Sal on the beach earlier – Sal is very knowledgeable about the snorkelling round here; you guys must have done loads since you arrived?’ She grins inanely at me, flicking her dirty blonde hair back over her shoulder. It doesn’t look in any better state than it did down on the beach.

‘Not really,’ I say dismissively. ‘Not to be rude, but Sal and I are a bit busy. Maybe we’ll see you around.’ With that I pick up my mobile phone, making it clear that I don’t want anything more to do with her.

‘Right. OK. Nice to meet you.’ Amaryllis pulls her hand back and, raising her eyebrows at the tall, dark-haired man behind her (who I presume must be Matt), she saunters off, but not without letting me hear her comment under her breath, ‘
God. Rude or what?
’ I shrug my shoulders. I couldn’t give a toss what some old beach hippy thinks about me. I don’t think we’ll have any more bother from her again.

We decide to spend our final evening of the holiday going for a romantic walk along the beach. We are both conscious of the fact that it’s back to normal tomorrow, and then a few days later we’ll both be thrown head first into the next stage of our lives. We walk for what feels like miles, the stars bright and clear in the sky overhead. A soft breeze wafts over us, warm like silk, and we hear a few notes of Arabian music floating over to us on the breeze. Following the music brings us to an ‘authentic’ Bedouin tent set up on the edge of the beach, and a funny little Egyptian guy comes out to greet us. Despite us protesting that, ‘No, no, it’s fine, we were just passing, we really don’t want tea,’ he brings us a teapot full of some awful herbal tea and a shisha pipe. Sal can’t stop laughing at the awfulness we’ve become swept up in, whereas I am not finding it quite so funny. I’m not good with spontaneity – I’m a planner. I want to know exactly what I’m doing, keeping everything under my control at all times.

‘Come on, Charlie, just go with it. It’s all part of the experience!’ Sal laughs, pouring me another cup of godawful tea. It tastes like how I imagine camel piss would taste and now, thanks to Sal, the teapot is empty and the little guy brings us another one. A troupe of ‘authentic’ dancers now joins us in the ‘authentic’ tent, and Sal’s eyes are out on stalks. This really is it now; I have had enough. It’s bad enough that Sal has spent the entire time on our
last evening
laughing and talking with the dirty little man who seems to be in charge of the tent; to now have to watch Sal sit and gawp at semi-naked dancers is enough for me.

‘That’s it, we’re leaving,’ I announce, grabbing Sal’s hand.

‘Oh, Charlie, come on. Let’s just watch the dancing for a bit, eh? It’s all part of …’

‘YES. I KNOW,’ I hiss at Sal. ‘All part of the experience. Well, I’m not here for this experience, Sal. OK? I’m here to spend time with my
partner
. Not watch you throw yourself at other people the entire time.’ Sal stands reluctantly and gestures some sort of goodbye to the tent guy.

I storm on ahead all the way back to the hotel. For fuck’s sake, Sal has to ruin everything. Sal scurries along behind me trying to keep up, making excuses about this evening, but I’m not in the mood to listen. Once back at the hotel, I head for the bar and order myself a double single malt. Two minutes later Sal lopes into the hotel, sweating and out of breath.

‘Charlie, please listen. I just wanted to watch the dancing – what’s wrong with that? Why are you being such a …. a fucking psycho?’ Sal demands, pulling on my arm to turn me away from the bar.

‘Seriously, Sal? All you’ve done all holiday is behave like an old tart! All you want to do is spend time with anyone except me! And I’m the only one you’re actually here with, remember? I’m the only one who actually wants you.’ I turn back to the bar and take a huge, fiery gulp of my whisky.

‘Charlie, please. Keep your voice down. You’re embarrassing me.’

‘I’m embarrassing
you
? Now you know what it’s like! You’ve done nothing but embarrass yourself since we got here.’ Sal face crumples a little and I spy that little bitch Amaryllis sitting on one of the hotel bar couches. She’s whispering into the ear of her boyfriend, all the while keeping her eyes on Sal and I. I grab Sal’s arm and march us towards the lifts.

‘I’m not going to tolerate this, Sal. Are you with me or not?’

‘Of course I’m with you, Charlie. You know that. I don’t understand what all this is about.’ Sal looks bewildered and I feel myself soften slightly as I look into those dark chocolate eyes.

‘It’s about you and me. It’s about you and me, against the world. I am the only one who will always be here for you, the one who loves you the most, right? I just wanted you all to myself this week, before we both start work, that’s all.’

Sal nods slowly. We enter the hotel room and Sal gets straight into bed, seemingly falling asleep straight away. I wait up for a while, sipping the last of my whisky on the balcony. I don’t speak to Sal at all on the flight home.

Chapter Twenty-One

SAL

I hear you wake up early the morning after the dinner party. I lie still, making sure my breathing sounds like I’m still sleeping, in order to not have to face you just yet. I’m not sure what kind of mood you are going to be in today – you spent plenty of time last night telling me how useless and stupid I am, but this time you didn’t really get physical with me, so now I don’t know if I’ve escaped it altogether or whether you’re still angry and just biding your time. It’s funny how a single punch on the arm feels like a lucky escape for me, whereas for other people in relationships I imagine it would be a reason to leave immediately. I hear you yawn and feel the duvet pull back as you go to get up and leave the bedroom. There is a click as the door closes behind you and I let out a small sigh of relief. The air lightens the minute you leave the room. Hopefully by the time I get up and come downstairs, you will have noticed that I have cleaned up all the debris from the party last night before coming to bed, and that will go some way towards appeasing you.

Things weren’t always like this – in the beginning it seemed like the perfect relationship. You were always attentive, complimentary, and although I knew you weren’t keen on spending time with my family I could understand it. You come from a family that consists only of your mum and dad, and although I’m not entirely sure of all the details, even after all this time, I know that you don’t get on. So, I can understand that it might have been pretty overwhelming the first time you met my family, with everyone talking over each other and hugging and kissing every five minutes. I thought you would soon get used to it, maybe even enjoy being part of a large family, but you soon showed me that that would never happen, although for different reasons than I had originally thought.

Lying in bed listening to you move around downstairs, I think back to the first time you showed me the other side to you. The first time you showed me you weren’t entirely charming all the time. I’d seen a glimpse previously on our first trip to visit my mum and dad, but this was the first time you had properly shown me your true colours.

We book a holiday to Egypt after I finish my PGCE. You have been offered the job at Hunter, Crisp and Wilson and, as we are both going to be starting our new jobs in September, we decide this is the best time to take our first holiday together. We arrive at Sharm El Sheikh International Airport and step off the plane into gorgeous bright sunshine, clear blue skies and a faint whiff of tobacco on the air. I can’t help it – I squeeze you close, I’m so excited. Growing up we had very few holidays and the holidays we did enjoy usually involved tents set up in fields in places like Cornwall (once – Dad never wanted to do that drive again), Weymouth (also once – Dad didn’t realise it was
quite
that far) and Margate (often – Dad didn’t mind driving an hour from home; it was close enough to go back when everyone got tired of each other whinging about being cold and tired, or missing home). This is my first ever holiday abroad and I’m excited to be sharing it with you. We’ve been together for two years now and it’s mostly been amazing all the way through. I mean, we have our ups and downs, and you can be a bit snappy with me occasionally, but you constantly surprise me with your thoughtfulness. Little things like leaving me a mug with a teabag in it next to a full kettle on the mornings when you leave the house before me, or bringing home a Chinese takeaway on a Friday night when you know I’ll be too tired to cook. This year has been a brilliant success for us so far – I’ve finished my PGCE and landed a job, you’ve got your dream job, we are saving to buy a house and it feels like everything is meant to be. We’ve spent every weekend together, getting to know each other inside and out, making the most of our free time before we really have to settle into what can only be described as the ‘real world’.

Our hotel is pretty much perfect. The room is spacious, with a huge king-sized bed and a balcony, accessed through a set of sheer curtains, which looks out over the sea. You are very impressed – I had booked allocation on arrival so we are extremely lucky; it could have all gone terribly wrong and we could have ended up in a proper shit-hole. It’s a hundred times nicer than our first weekend away together, last year, when I took you to a music festival – it poured with rain and there was mud everywhere, and you weren’t too impressed at sleeping in a tent for the weekend, but we had the most amazing time. Dancing, singing, laughing all weekend, it felt like there was nowhere else on earth that I would have rather been. Apart from here, now – the view is breathtaking. There is a pier that stretches out from the beach far into the sea, and we decide on our first morning to go and explore. The water is like glass, perfectly clear and warm like bath water. It’s paradise. Jumping off the pier into the warm water you call up to me, ‘Sal! There’s fish! Come and look!’ I jump off the pier and join you in the shallow water – it’s only waist-high, but you are right; there are dozens of tiny fish swimming under the pier. We head up towards the hotel shop and invest in a snorkel each and spend the rest of the day snorkelling under the pier, pointing out different types of fish to each other. It’s a perfect day, one that now, when I think back to it, sums up the first couple of years of our relationship perfectly. We didn’t need material things, or to ‘prove’ how much we meant to each other; we were just happy existing alongside each other, comfortable in our own relationship. Thinking back to that perfect day makes it even harder for me to understand how we came to be in the place we are now. That evening we hit the hotel bar and their ‘cabaret’ entertainment – the only entertainment they have, but there is the novelty of being able to stay out late, drink as much as we want and know we don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Everything is completely perfect.