Wish You Were Here (11 page)

‘What's going on?' asked Tom as the bar was suddenly deluged by a huge influx of revellers dressed in swimming goggles, snorkels and cheap-looking white T-shirts.

‘Finally,' said Andy, rubbing his hands with glee, ‘the entertainment.'

‘What's he talking about?' asked Tom.

‘Check out the T-shirts,' I replied, pointing to a couple of guys standing by the bar.

‘The Club Fun Big Night Out,' said Tom reading the slogan. ‘You're telling me that after all this time the mother of all bar crawls is still going?'

‘Makes you feel sort of proud doesn't it?' said Andy. ‘And they say young people have no sense of tradition.'

The Club Fun Big Night Out organisers ended up commandeering the rear half of the bar near where we were sitting. A young guy wearing a blue version of the white T-shirt appeared to be leading the proceedings and after a short while he turned on the microphone. Tapping it several times to make sure it was working he then jumped on to a raised platform to the left of us and bellowed in a broad Yorkshire accent: ‘Welcome to the Legendary Club Fun Big Night Out! Are! You! Ready! To paaaaaaaarrrrrrrrtttttttttyyyyyyyy!'

The crowd gave a half-hearted cheer, which wasn't good enough for the holiday rep. He put the microphone back up to his lips: ‘That's rubbish!' he chided. ‘You need to make more noise. Now on the count of three . . . one . . . two . . . three! Welcome to Club Fun! Are! You! Ready! To paaaaaaaarrrrrrrrttttttttttyyyyyyyy!' The crowd cheered back but the rep still wasn't satisfied. ‘One more time!' he boomed into the microphone. ‘Come on! Give it all you've got. Club Fun Big Night Out! Are! You! Ready! To paaaaaaaarrrrrrrrttttttttyyyyyyyy!'

Clearly motivated by the need to have this idiot stop shouting at them, the crowd yelled, screamed and whooped at the top of their voices like game-show contestants.

‘That's more like it! Now let's get things started with one of my favourite party games and I'm sure it's one of yours . . . you know what it is . . . the ice-cube game!'

My jaw dropped.

‘How brilliant is that?' said Andy, laughing uncontrollably. ‘Mate, we should get up and join them for old times' sake.'

‘No way,' I replied. ‘And neither should—' I stopped as I realised that the back pocket of my jeans was vibrating. I reached for my phone and looked at the screen. It was a phone number I didn't recognise.

‘Who is it?' asked Andy.

I shrugged, wondering if Sarah had perhaps bought a new phone. ‘It's too loud in here,' I said to Andy, ‘I'm going to answer it outside.'

‘See you in a bit,' he replied.

Tom was sipping his beer, still engrossed in the cricket and I whispered in his ear: ‘Keep on eye on Andy for me and make sure he doesn't get into any trouble, okay?'

‘Yeah,' replied Tom, his gaze fixed to the TV screen. ‘Will do.' I moved away but then returned: ‘Oh . . . and keep an eye out for the girl-in-the-cowboy-hat and her mates.'

‘I'll keep an eye out for everybody,' said Tom, wincing as one of the England team was bowled out. ‘Go and answer your call, and trust me, everything will be just the same by the time you come back.'

The strip was now so busy it resembled Trafalgar Square on New Year's Eve. There were gangs of lads singing football chants, groups of girls singing along to Kylie Minogue, young guys in cars blasting out music from their in-car CD players and, watching over the entire proceedings, a small collection of stone-faced police officers. In a bid to get away from the noise I ducked down a side street next to Pandemonium and answered the call.

‘Hello?' I began.

‘Charlie,' said a female voice. ‘It's me, Lisa.'

It took a few moments for her voice to register. ‘Lisa?' I replied eventually. ‘What's going on? How are you? Is everything all right?'

‘I'm fine, honestly,' said Lisa.

‘You had me worried there for a second,' I replied, ‘I thought something must have happened.'

‘I'm sorry.' She sounded genuinely apologetic. ‘I knew I shouldn't have called you like this. It was a bad idea. I'll let you get back to doing whatever it was you were doing.'

‘No, no, no,' I replied. ‘It's fine. I don't mind you calling at all.' I paused. ‘I take it this is about Andy?'

‘Am I that obvious?'

‘Transparent.'

‘This is so pathetic.'

‘No it's not,' I replied. ‘You're worried and you're looking for a bit of reassurance. It's better you call me up and find out what's going on than sit at home driving yourself mental.'

‘So how has he been?' she asked. ‘I hoped he might call me tonight but I've not had so much as a text message to let me know you guys got there okay.'

‘Well, let me bring you up to speed,' I replied. ‘The flight was all right, the accommodation is okay, the weather is glorious and most of today we spent hanging out on the beach.'

‘And that's all?'

‘Yeah,' I replied. ‘That's—' A group of lads passing by at the end of the street let off an air horn, cutting me off mid-flow.

‘So where are you now?' asked Lisa. ‘You sound like you're at a football match.'

‘I think a football match would be less crowded than this. I'm outside a bar called Pandemonium. When I left to take your call Andy was staring into space and Tom was watching the cricket.'

Lisa laughed. ‘So you're telling me I've got nothing to worry about?'

‘Yes,' I replied, ‘I'm telling you you've got absolutely nothing to worry about.'

‘And you'd tell me if there was something to tell, wouldn't you?'

‘I promise you, Lisa, other than tales of excessive drinking, I doubt that there will be anything to report back to you. And you don't want to hear about that do you?'

‘No,' replied Lisa. Her voice was lighter now and less anxious. ‘I'm really sorry, Charlie. You've been a sweetheart. You really have.'

‘Look,' I replied, ‘it's no problem at all.'

‘Thanks, Charlie. I'm going to let you go, but just promise me this one thing, will you? Promise me you won't tell Andy I called.'

‘Of course,' I replied.

There was a long silence.

‘Okay,' said Lisa finally. Her voice was shaky. She sounded small and lonely. ‘Well, have a good night then.'

‘We will,' I replied. ‘And you can call me as much as you want to. You know that.'

We said our goodbyes and then I ended the call and made my way back to the main street. For a few moments I stood on the pavement, jostled by passersby in both directions, thinking about Lisa. I couldn't get over how much she loved Andy. She loved him so much that she couldn't even bear to think about losing him and despite his many faults her love remained. And I thought to myself that that is what love must be – resilience in the face of opposition; knowing when you should give in and refusing to do so. Andy didn't know what he had in Lisa. He didn't know that she had what it took to make love work. He'd taken her for granted and would always do so because, unlike me, he'd never had a Sarah in his life to show him just how tough life could be.

Still mulling the call over I returned to Pandemonium and worked my way across the crowded bar area to the seats where I'd left my friends. A few feet away from my destination I realised that half of them were missing.

‘Where's Andy?'

Tom dragged his eyes from the cricket and looked at me. ‘He said something about going to the—' he stopped abruptly and instinctively I followed his line of vision across the room to the other side of the bar. Andy was frantically kissing a tall, dark-haired girl who was wearing a Club Fun Big Night Out T-shirt while holding a glass full of ice cubes.

‘This isn't going to be a relaxing holiday at all, is it?' sighed Tom.

‘No,' I replied despondently. ‘I'm guessing this is going to be as stressful as they come.'

Déjà vu. That was the feeling I woke up with on the morning of my second day in Crete – the sense that I had pretty much already seen this day begin before. I looked at my watch. It was just after ten o'clock. I sat up in bed and the sheet covering me slipped off my shoulders exposing my skin to the arctic chill of the room. I glared at the air-conditioning unit gurgling happily on the wall as it continued on its mission to turn the bedroom into a glacial wasteland. Sighing, I pulled up my sheet and relaxed into my pillow, listening to the various sounds coming from outside: music from the bar down below, people laughing and shouting next to the pool, the occasional splash of someone jumping into the water. Everything was just like the day before . . . with one glaring exception: Andy wasn't here. His bed was empty and he was nowhere to be seen – a clear indicator, should I have needed one, that the events of the night before had been no passing nightmare. They were very real indeed.

Last night. What. A. Total. Disaster. Tom and I had watched slack-jawed as Andy had kissed, fondled and generally manhandled the tall girl with the dark hair for a good five minutes before we finally managed to tear our eyes away from the car crash that had occurred right in front of us. I really couldn't believe that he had so unambiguously crossed the line. I knew that Andy liked to flirt with members of the opposite sex like most people liked to breathe, but I'd always assumed that when it came to The Line – between being technically faithful and technically unfaithful – he had enough sense to remain on the side that would bring least trouble. And yet there he'd been standing right in our line of vision, kissing a girl I'd never seen before only moments after I'd assured his teary live-in girlfriend that he would be faithful to her for the entire holiday.

Neither Tom nor I had any idea what we should do. It wasn't as if we could have dragged him forcibly from her clutches – although that was actually the first suggestion I'd come up with. So after taking time out to assess the situation over a stiff drink, we came to the conclusion that the only thing we could do was let him get on with it in the hope that he would come to his senses and return to the fold. After some time it became clear that Andy and the girl weren't going to come up for air any time soon. Just as we'd reassessed the situation and made the decision to issue Andy in his absence with a toothless NATO-style sanction (‘If he doesn't stop snogging that girl in, say . . . the next hour or so I think we should register our protest by going back to the hotel') Andy and the girl stopped kissing.

‘Finally,' I said, relieved, ‘his conscience is kicking in.'

‘He hasn't got one,' said Tom. ‘I suspect he had it surgically removed years ago to make room for his ego.'

Tom was right. As the girl disappeared in the direction of the ladies' toilet Andy didn't look the slightest bit repentant. In fact he looked incredibly pleased with himself, as though he deserved a round of applause. Returning to our table, he picked up his beer and downed the remains of his Budweiser in one go.

‘Now that hit the spot,' he said, setting down the bottle firmly on the table in front of me.

‘Are we supposed to be impressed?'

Andy sighed wearily. ‘I knew you'd make a big deal out of this. It's nothing, Charlie, okay? Just a bit of fun. There's no need to be concerned.'

‘Come on, mate,' I replied. ‘You don't have to do this. You've made your point. She was gorgeous and you're the king of pulling birds. Let's just leave now and call it a night before you get yourself in any more trouble.'

‘Leave now?' said Andy. ‘You must be joking. There's no way I'm going anywhere tonight without her. Have you seen her, Charlie? She's amazing.'

‘You're right. She is amazing. And I can't believe that you're making me remind you but here goes: you've got a girlfriend.'

‘Will you try and be a bloke just for one second?' snapped Andy. ‘This is the kind of thing I'd expect from church boy Tom, not you. Come on, mate, we're blokes. This is what blokes do. Especially when they're on holiday.'

I looked over to see if Tom had any words of wisdom that might back me up.

‘You want me to say something to stop Andy going off with this girl?' said Tom, reading my face. ‘Maybe something about his girlfriend, and how he's risking losing her for a meaningless fling?' Tom shook his head. ‘No, I'm afraid I won't be doing that.' He gave Andy a wink. ‘Do whatever you want, mate. Just leave us out of it, okay?'

For a brief moment I was sure that I saw a faint flicker of doubt spread across Andy's face. And it might have taken hold had that not been the exact moment that Andy's kissing companion chose to stride across the bar and join our table.

‘Are these your friends?' asked the girl, slipping her fingers between Andy's.

‘Nina, this is Charlie and Tom,' said Andy neutrally. He then gestured to Nina. ‘Charlie and Tom, this is Nina.'

Tom didn't take his eyes off the cricket during the whole exchange and as I felt bad on behalf of everyone involved I ended up issuing an overly enthusiastic hello.

‘Hi,' I said, shaking her hand. ‘It's really good to meet you.'

‘It's nice to meet you too,' replied Nina.

Even in an ill-fitting Club Fun T-shirt there was no disguising how attractive Nina was. ‘How long are you here for?' I asked.

‘A week,' she replied. ‘I'm here with my sister and some friends. You guys are only here for a week too aren't you?'