Kiss the Tiger (2 page)

Chapter Three

The heat hit the moment we stepped
out of the plane’s door, and continued throughout the sweaty coach ride to the
hotel.

Diane spent the first ten minutes
of the journey twiddling with the non-functioning air blower, determined to
twist some life into it. She was out of luck.

“I knew I should have booked a
taxi,” said Mum, fanning her face with her passport. “Did you see that long
line of silver Mercedes outside the airport? I could have been luxuriating in
an air-conditioned interior, instead of getting an impromptu workout in this
boneshaker.” The inflection in her voice raised along with her body as we hit a
bump in the road.

Beside me, Nessie peeled off her
top to reveal a smaller one underneath. Mine.

I narrowed my eyes with jealousy.
“I knew that would look better on you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. My big boobs drag down the
neckline until it’s all on show, but on your smaller frame everything stays in
place. It’s not fair.”

Nessie pushed her chest upwards
and studied it. “And I thought I was working this padded bra pretty well.”

I laughed and looked past her to
the scenery flying by. Row upon row of grape vines lined the fields and crept
up the hills, interspersed only by an injection of olive trees. It was like a
different world; one unsullied by the modern age.

For years, our family
holidays
had consisted of numerous city breaks, perfectly timed to coincide with Dad’s
international business meetings. I longed to visit a place that wasn’t filled with
high-rises, and where you didn’t have to navigate crammed subway stations in
order to get from A to B. Secretly, Mum must have been longing for the same
thing. This trip had been her idea. From the moment she saw the advertisement
for the luxurious new hotel and spa, in one of her glossy magazines, the
all-out assault on Dad had begun. His wallet hadn’t stood a chance. I wondered
now if part of his agreement to book was born out of guilt.

The coach turned sharply and
almost threw me into the aisle. Working seatbelts should definitely be a
priority on this company’s to do list. Off the main highway, the potholed road
wound steeply down towards the coast, and below us, the azure blue of the ocean
stretched out to the horizon. Dust sprayed up at the windows as we skidded to a
halt, leaving us precariously perched on the rough edge of the road. I held my
breath as an old truck squeezed past, unconcerned as to whether it would knock
off a wing mirror or push us over the cliff.

Mum’s fanning increased and she
focussed on the floor. “If we make it there in one piece, Diane, remind me
never
to do this again.”

“Oh, lighten up, Cora. I’d much rather
have my bottom smacked by these seats than a burly builder at the café.”

My imagination conjured up a
picture of Mum receiving a cheeky slap and her reciprocating by giving the
builder one in return across his cheek. I suppressed a chuckle.

The coach began moving again and
continued its journey down the incline.

“It’s just not what I had in mind,
that’s all.” Mum sighed. “I was supposed to be having a lavish vacation with
the family, and yet now I have no husband to share it with, and I feel as if
I’m entering a third world nightmare.” She paused, chewing on her lip as she
angled her head towards the window. “Oh, that building over there looks like
the brochure pictures. It could be our hotel. I hope it is. I’m in serious need
of a G and T.”

I craned my neck to see past Mum
and follow her line of sight, but the road dipped and the view was immediately blocked
by a house no bigger than our lounge. Bright pink flowers wound up around the
door, and in the garden, an old man picked grapes from a gnarled vine. At the
next junction we turned left onto a stony track, winding through a field of
parched undergrowth, until eventually we pulled up onto a patch of freshly lain
tarmac.

The neon green sign over the
entrance spelt the word Hestia.

“Impressive,” said Diane.

“Hmm.” Mum frowned. “It looked
better in the brochure. Their idea of five star and mine differ somewhat.”

Diane laid a soothing hand on her
friend’s arm. “Give it a chance. I’m sure it’s lovely.”

It was certainly larger and more
stylish than some of the other pastel coloured boxes I’d prayed we wouldn’t be
stopping at, and finally free of our mobile sweatbox, we entered the cool of
the foyer, and my shorts unstuck from my ass. Yes, this would do nicely.

Thirty minutes later, our cases
were unpacked and our bikinis on. The afternoon sun had mellowed to a
comfortable temperature, and there were plenty of spare loungers around the
pool, allowing us a welcome opportunity to relax away the stresses of the
journey.

Behind me, the hotel painted the
cliff face with stepped blocks of white, stopping at the plateau of the
infinity pool. From our vantage point atop the cliff, there was a great view
along the beach, still scattered with diehard sun worshippers. Nessie’s eyes
fixed onto a group of boys kicking a ball around, and I understood why. Even
from a distance, I could see they’d be hot without the assistance of the sun.
Watching the tanned torsos and muscular legs grappling together was almost
enough to renew my interest in another try-to-forget-my-long-lost-love fuckarama,
despite my drawing a line under that period of my life.

“I can feel a need for a trip to
the beach, tomorrow, coming on,” Nessie said.

The corners of my mouth curled
with understanding. “I wonder why that could be?”

“Well, there’s no point wasting
time. We’re here to have fun, aren’t we?” Nessie was doing her best to bring me
around to her way of thinking, but no amount of one night stands could fix my
broken heart.

“Yeah. Soak up the rays and see
the sights kind of fun,” I stressed. Not that I thought for one minute my words
would convince her.

“But let’s not forget the go to
some raves, drink too much, and get laid by a hottie kind of fun.”

Somehow, I got the impression I
wouldn’t be allowed to. We’d been at our destination for less than an hour, and
already a blatant display of testosterone had got me contemplating the
pleasures a male body could provide. How did that happen? Since when had the
job of being a bad influence been the younger sister’s role?

The billowing colours of Mum’s
kaftan appeared in the corner of my eye. Why she insisted upon covering up from
head to toe was a mystery to me. She kept fit and had a great body for her age.
She placed her G & T on the table between us, and perched on the edge of a
neighbouring lounger, with her phone glued to her ear. Our edge of town,
beachfront location clearly hadn’t prevented her from getting mobile reception.

“Yes, yes, I understand, Ron.
It’s not your fault. I didn’t think about that. I appreciate you don’t want to
get involved. Thank you for keeping me informed.”

Mum’s phone joined her drink on
the table, and a contemplative look crossed her face, almost indistinguishable
under the shadow of her wide brimmed hat.

“Trouble?” Diane asked.

“I don’t know. That was my
neighbour, Ronald Kempton. He thought we had a burglar, before he realised it
was John, and he was confused as to whether we were on holiday or not. I had to
explain the situation. I suppose it’s my own fault for not personally
delivering the key and clarifying the current circumstances.” She took a deep
swig of her drink and winced. “We shouldn’t have come. I wasn’t thinking
clearly. I was angry. I wanted to punish John and show that we were perfectly
fine without him. That was a mistake. He’s probably already changed the locks.”

Nessie shook her head. “Dad
wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t he? I never thought
he’d cheat on me either. We can all be deceived. What am I supposed to do when
I’m thousands of miles away? We could return home and find that we’ve got no
home to go to.”

I could sense one of her anxiety
attacks bubbling. When it came to stressful outbursts, Mum was worse than a
hormonal teenager. “That’s a bit dramatic, Mum.”

Diane sensed it too. “I know just
the man who can help you.” She tapped the keyboard of her phone. “Here. Call
this number. Ask for David Roberts. Tell him you’re a friend of mine.”

Mum punched the number into her own
handset and hit call. “Who is he?”

“A solicitor I dated last year.
Divorces are his speciality,” she said, as Mum disappeared to the shade of the
pool bar.

Chapter Four

Whoever invented blackout curtains
has my utmost admiration.

Despite all good intentions to
walk into town and check out the local drinking spots, the previous day’s
journey had leeched any energy I may have had to do so, and an early night had
won out, resulting in constant waking in the early hours. I turned over to eke
out my lie-in as many times as I could, before finally giving in and getting
out of bed.

Nessie was snoring lightly.

I grabbed a bottle of water from
the mini fridge, stepped out onto the balcony, and sat in a rattan chair.

At home, mornings were usually chaotic,
with everyone dashing around to get ready, and gulping down Mum’s carefully
prepared breakfast, before venturing outside to navigate the morning rush hour.
The only sounds to break the silence here were the occasional passing scooter
engine and the clinking of goat bells on the hillside behind the hotel. There
wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so I leaned back to enjoy the feel of the warm, early
rays on my face.

The sun crept higher, and the rattle
of crockery from the restaurant below reminded my stomach it was hungry. I
stood up just as a blue scooter came down the road at the bottom of the hill.

Devoid of a helmet, the rider’s
hair quivered in the wind. Something about the tilt of his head and the line of
his jaw reminded me of Josh. Twelve months, six other guys, and over a thousand
miles lay between us, yet he was still in my head. And if any random guy on a
scooter could cause my butterflies to start fluttering, I had a problem. The
scooter stopped next to an apartment block, and the girl on the back of it
climbed off and waved, before going inside. Was the smile on her face a thank
you for an amazing night? A twinge of jealousy pecked at my chest, as the rider
drove around the corner out of sight. I shook the memory of Josh away and
returned inside to wake Nessie.

***

After consuming a breakfast far
larger than I would have eaten at home, Nessie and I descended the long trail
of steps down the cliff towards the beach.

“Where do you want to make camp?”
I asked. “Here, by these rocks?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Nah. Over
there. Nearer the action.”

I didn’t need to ask what she
meant. Past the lines of parasols, a couple of pedalos and a huge inflatable
doughnut bobbed on the gentle waves. Nessie was clearly anticipating who the
prospective customers would be.

“Kalimera,” the attendant said,
as we presented our wristbands. Olive skin rippled over his biceps as he
carried a couple of loungers to our chosen spot, with ease. “You just arrive?”
he asked, his eyes grazing down my sister’s body.

“Yesterday.” Nessie smiled.

His dark eyes twinkled
lecherously as he stabbed the parasol into the sand, still studying Nessie
instead of the job at hand. “You like it here. Greece very nice. Very friendly.”

“Yes, I can see that.” She held
his gaze a little too long for my liking.

“Maybe, I see you later? My
cousin, he has club. One with big totem pole outside. Good music. Good drink. You
come tonight, yes?”

I cleared my throat and answered
for her, “Maybe.” I pointed behind his shoulder. “I think you have another
customer.”

“He was dishy,” Nessie said, as
she followed the movement of his back. “What do you think, worth a shot?”

“Since when have you been into
father figures?”

“Give over. He was twenty-five,
tops, and I’ve been thinking that maybe I need a guy with experience.”

I glanced over to where the
attendant was placing his new customer’s chairs. “Of which, I’m sure he has
plenty. He looks like a player. I bet tries it on with anything in a bikini.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “You’re probably
right. Maybe not.”

“And, we’ve got all week. What’s
the rush?”

We laid out our towels, and I sat
down to rub sun lotion onto my bloated stomach. “I feel so fat,” I said. “From
now on, don’t let me eat anything but fruit for breakfast. What do you think,
three months…four?”

Nessie looked up sharply. “Oh my
God! You’re not. Are you?”

“Yeah. I think I’ll name it
croissants.”

“Seriously?” Judging from her
face, she actually thought it a possibility.

“I’m joking! Can you say
immaculate conception?”

Her hand landed on her chest and
she let out her breath. “Don’t do that to me. I nearly had a heart attack.” She
angled her head. “How long
has
it been?”

I thought for a second. “Eight
months, give or take.”

“Eight months! You’re joking
again, aren’t you?”

“No. No joke.” Actually, I knew
the exact date…and time. It was bonfire night. His name was Alfie, and we’d
made out in the back of his Toyota to the sound of rockets exploding over our
heads. Unfortunately, there were no fireworks on the back seat. Alfie’s dick
had been a big disappointment in a small way. The following day, I went back to
wearing sensible knickers and put my Josh replacement search on hold.

“Then you need to get your hands
on a piece of ass, soon.”

I pushed my sunglasses up onto my
head and laid-back. “At least I’ve had an ass in my hands before.”

“So have I.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her eyes fell and she picked sand
from her thigh. “Actually, there’s something I haven’t told you.”

“What?” I leaned up on my elbow,
studying her embarrassment. “No. You haven’t!”

She nodded. “I’m not a virgin.”

“Since when?” My mouth fell open
and stayed there. I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

She looked up and grimaced. “Easter.”

“Easter!” Easter. I had to search
my memory to remember what Nessie had been up to around that time. It had been
a stressful period for me. I’d had my nose stuck in textbooks for most of it,
revising for my finals. Had I been that blind to everything else going on
around me? It was certainly a possibility. “But that was ages ago!”

“Erm, yeah.”

“You never told me.”

“Erm, no.”

“You could have fessed up when I
was pouring my heart out to you, a couple of days ago.”

“It didn’t seem like the right
time.”

“And there wasn’t a right time in
the…let me see…the past three months!”

“The longer I left it, the more
it became irrelevant.”

“I hardly think it irrelevant.” I
paused for a second, as a thought suddenly entered my head, before continuing, “Wasn’t
it around that time that you were seeing Matthew?” Nessie had gone out with
Matthew on and off for about a month. He was nice enough, a little podgy around
the middle and with a nervous habit of pushing his glasses back up his nose,
but I’d thought their friends-to-boyfriend-girlfriend relationship was sweet,
if sadly doomed. I’d had my doubts about him long before they became an item.
Doubts that had increased with time. Whenever I’d glanced out of my bedroom
window, and witnessed them returning from a date, he’d appeared reluctant to
even kiss her goodnight. And for that reason, I’d never pictured their
relationship entering the next phase. Clearly, I’d been wrong. Had it really
been him? “I thought he might have been gay.”

“No!”

“Because he seemed so…”

“He wasn’t gay!”

“So it
was
Matthew, then,
who popped your balloon?”

“If you want to put it like that.”

“Not gay then?”

“No. I told you. He just wasn’t
ready for anything serious.”

“I see.” At least I thought I
did. It wasn’t unheard of to secure a nice little girlfriend so the parents wouldn’t
suspect. “What was it like?”

“You don’t want to know.”

My lips twisted in anticipation. “Oh,
believe me, I do.”

“Kind of disappointing,
actually.”

“Go on.”

Realising from the look on my
face that I wasn’t going to let her get away with a one sentence answer, she
took a long breath. “His parents had gone out for the evening. We were watching
a film. There was this love scene that got me all horny. I kissed him and
started stroking his thigh to get him interested. He was hesitant, and then
when I began unzipping his fly, he tried to stop me. Went on about respecting
me and some other shit. But I worked my charms on him, and eventually, he gave
in. It was over as soon as it started. Then he told me his parents would be
home soon and I had to go. The next day I got a text saying that he hadn’t realised
I was that kind of girl, and perhaps it would be better if we were just
friends. Can you believe it? We’d been dating for ages and he accused me of
being a skank in a sodding text. I didn’t bother to reply.” She sniffed and
stared out to sea. “I liked him, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” I reached out and
took her hand. “But did you never wonder why a red-blooded, eighteen-year-old
boy was reluctant to have sex with a beautiful, sexy girl like you? Most guys
would be in there like a shot.”

“Majorly old-fashioned?”

“Gay.”

“Nah.”

“I can’t blame you for ignoring
the signs, but think about it. Even the respectful ones enjoy an innocent
make-out session. How good a kisser was he?”

Nessie chewed on my words and her
grip tightened. “Oh God, I’ve had sex with a gay guy, haven’t I?”

“I think you might have, yes.” We
giggled together. “Look at it this way. Things can only improve.”

“Exactly.” She laid back. “That’s
why I’m going to find us a couple of studs, and we’re getting the hell freak on
with them. I have to know what it’s really like. So, what’s your preference, shag
tally tourist or home grown fuck a new batch every fortnight?”

“You forget. I’ve tried the
rebound shit. I even enjoyed some of it, but the ache is still there in the
morning.”

“I’m not like you. I’m totally
over Matty now, so I’m not on the rebound. I’m curious. And the only ache I’ll
be feeling in the morning will be between my legs. So stop avoiding the
question.”

“You might struggle getting
either for me. Honestly. I look like I’ve swallowed a melon.”

“With tits like yours, no boy
will be looking at your stomach.” She reached out and pinged my bikini top.
“Why don’t you give them an airing? They’ll be on you like flies on shit, in
seconds.”

“You first.”

“Uh-uh. I haven’t got your figure.”

I cocked my chin over to the
stack of loungers. “Didn’t stop that guy from giving it the once over.”

“Like you said, he probably does
it to all the girls.” Her head lifted to watch a couple of boys, not yet man
enough to have filled out but with a decent tan, removing their trainers. “How
about we start over there? I suddenly fancy a swim.”

“They’re a bit young.”

“Old enough to practise on,” she
shouted, running for the water.