Wish You Were Here (21 page)

‘Look,' said Donna. ‘Are those our foot prints from last night?'

‘Yeah,' I replied.

‘It seems like such a long time ago since we made these,' said Donna. ‘It's almost as if they were made by two different people.'

‘But they weren't two different people,' I replied. I pointed to the ground. ‘Look, there's your foot print and there's mine. Side by side going in the same direction.'

‘And now we're going back,' sighed Donna. ‘It almost makes me wish we could turn around and just keep going forwards until we fall off the edge.'

The road near the beach was the quietest I'd ever seen it. No Brits, no club music and no quad bikes. The only signs of life were from delivery trucks dropping off supplies and tired-looking shop keepers opening up their stores. Stars and Bars, however, was a different story. Clusters of shattered-looking clubbers were scattered around the various tables as if it had somehow become the final port of call for Malia's more hardcore hedonists before they finally said goodbye to the night before.

Donna and I managed to find a table at the rear of the bar and ordered two of the ‘Killer' English breakfasts along with two beers. Falling into an easy silence we were content to eavesdrop on the gang of student-looking types in front of us retelling the story of their night with all its attendant highs and lows. For the first time during the holiday I realised that I was no longer looking on with envy at their lives. I no longer wanted to be them at all. Finally I was happy being me.

‘Why can't real life be like this all the time?' I asked as our waiter arrived at our table with our breakfasts.

‘Do you really want a life where you're always out eating breakfast at six in the morning?' asked Donna laughing.

‘No,' I replied, ‘I mean why can't holidays last for ever?'

‘Because then they'd stop being holidays and would start being real life,' replied Donna. ‘Holidays are holidays because they're a break from the norm.'

‘When I was a kid I used to wonder if people who lived in Spain went on holiday,' I said squeezing a dollop of tomato ketchup on to my plate. ‘If people like my next-door neighbours went on holiday to Majorca, then what did people who lived in Majorca do when it came to holiday time?'

‘What answer did you come up with?'

‘None,' I replied. ‘I probably got distracted and accepted that it was just one of those weird conundrums that you're faced with in life – like infinity, or when time began. I must have come to the conclusion that it's probably easier to not think about things like that at all.'

‘The head-in-the-sand philosophy?'

‘Yeah,' I replied. ‘But don't knock it if you haven't tried it.'

‘I can barely keep my eyes open,' said Donna as the waiter came to take our empty plates away.

‘We should probably think about going.' I looked up at our waiter and asked for the bill. A few moments later, he placed it in the middle of the table but before I could reach for it Donna snatched it up and passed it back to him along with a handful of notes.

‘You didn't have to do that,' I said as we stood up.

‘But I wanted to,' replied Donna.

‘Okay, but next time breakfast is on me.'

It was just a throwaway comment. A joke and nothing more. But I could see from the look of worry that flashed across Donna's face that it carried more weight than I'd intended. How would there ever be a next time when Donna was leaving Malia for good?

‘So what now?' We were standing outside the bar basking in the gentle warmth of the early-morning sun.

‘This is really difficult for me, Charlie.' Donna took my hand.

‘I know.' I changed the subject. ‘What time do you leave?'

‘I think the coach to the airport is supposed to arrive about nine. I'm going to get some sleep but why don't you come to my hotel about six and at least then we can maybe get something to eat.'

‘I'll see you at six then.' Donna stepped towards me and I automatically put my arms around her and we kissed. It was different from our earlier kiss, though. More awkward and self-conscious.

‘I'll see you later,' she said waving goodbye.

‘Yeah,' I replied. ‘I'll see you later.'

‘Go on, Tom. Poke him awake.'

‘You poke him awake.'

‘But you're closer.'

‘And you're obviously more interested than I am.'

‘I'm not that interested.'

‘So wait until he wakes up then.'

‘You're joking. He's been asleep ages as it is. I can't be hanging around here all day. I've got stuff to do.'

‘Well, if you want him awake, by all means be my guest.'

‘Okay, I'll do it myself but I think it's worth pointing out that there's no need for you to be such a—'

Andy stopped mid-sentence as I blinked open my eyes to see his unshaven face leering inches away from my own.

‘Ah, so it lives,' he said smirking at me. ‘Nice to see you're awake finally.'

‘How could I not be with you two yelling over me like that?' I sat up and yawned. ‘What time is it?'

‘Ten past three.'

I immediately leapt out of bed and began throwing on clothes.

‘What's the big rush?' asked Andy.

‘I only meant to sleep a couple of hours,' I said as I struggled to pull on my shorts. ‘I'm supposed to be meeting up with Donna again at six and I've got a few things I need to sort out before that.'

‘What kind of things?'

I shrugged. ‘It doesn't matter what. Just stuff.'

Andy rolled his eyes in despair. ‘This is so typical of you when it comes to girls. You were just the same at college: always pointlessly secretive about everything.'

‘Look,' I said, grabbing a clean T-shirt from my suitcase, ‘I'm not being secretive about anything. In fact I'm actually sort of keen to tell you both what happened last night because I could do with some advice.'

‘At last.' Andy rubbed his hands together with mock glee. ‘Tell your uncle Andy everything.'

Leaving out the contents of Lisa's call, I told Andy and Tom everything that had happened from the moment I'd met up with Donna right through to our breakfast at Stars and Bars.

‘So that's it?' Andy looked at me with an odd mixture of amusement and disbelief. ‘All you did was talk?'

‘With the exception of the odd kiss, yes.'

‘Well there's your problem right there.'

‘I knew you wouldn't get it.'

‘What's to get?' replied Andy. ‘She's obviously not interested.'

‘That's rubbish,' said Tom. ‘She sounds to me like she is interested but just wants to take things slowly that's all.'

‘So slowly that she's not even mentioned seeing him again?' said Andy shaking his head. ‘No, mate, you're being blown out, but if you want my advice you're best off out of it anyway. With the kid and her ex and all the rest of the stuff she sounds like she's too high maintenance for you.'

‘You couldn't be more wrong,' I replied.

‘So if she's that great why didn't you bring the subject up yourself?'

I shrugged. ‘Because the timing's so off. We missed the boat on being a “holiday thing” that turns into something more . . . and we're too early for anything else. The choice is either say nothing and risk losing her or say something and risk coming across like some kind of stalker.'

‘She's just a girl,' said Andy. ‘There'll be others.'

‘You just don't get it do you?' I replied.

‘Look,' said Andy, ‘I'm only telling you this for your own good. You should've stayed with me last night and worked your magic with Hattie like I said. She was so desperate by the end of the night that she ended up pulling some kid in a Newcastle United top. That could've been you there with her. Instead, you were off having moonlit chats on the beach with some girl who may or may not be interested in you. You're thirty-five, Charlie, not fifteen. You should've grown out of this teen-angst melodrama years ago.' He tutted and then, more to himself than to me, added, ‘And you wonder why Sarah left you.'

If I'd wanted to hear a pin drop on our tile flooring now would've been the time to do it. Though Tom looked shocked, I could tell Andy was the more horrified. In the past I had allowed him a certain amount of leeway with regard to the offensive and childish stuff he said to my face simply because we were friends, but this time he knew he had overstepped the mark.

‘Look, mate—'

‘Just go,' I said. ‘Go before I say something we'll both regret.'

I could see him weighing up the situation. On the one hand he didn't want to lose face in front of Tom, but on the other he knew that he had gone too far.

‘I'll talk to you when you've calmed down a bit, yeah?' He picked up his rucksack from the floor, slung it over his shoulder and left the apartment.

‘Tell me again why you're friends with him?' said Tom as Andy slammed the front door.

‘Do you know what? You should give him a break sometimes. The reason Andy's an arsehole to the people who love him is the same reason we're all arseholes to people who love us . . . because it's only the ones who stick around when we haven't given them a reason to that are worth keeping.'

Tom grinned. ‘So how are you today, you useless bag of crap?'

‘Me? You fat tosser. I'm fine.' I paused and looked at Tom. I wanted to ask him about the cancer thing without actually talking about the cancer thing.

‘Are you sure you're really okay?' I asked.

‘I wouldn't say I'm great,' shrugged Tom, ‘but I'm not down either. I'm sort of hanging on in there with grim determination.' He flashed me the same look of examination that I'd given him. ‘And how about you?'

‘About the same.'

‘Made a decision?'

I shook my head. ‘And if that's not bad enough she's off in six hours.'

‘So what are you going to do? Play it by ear?'

‘No,' I replied. ‘Right now I'm going to try to see if I can buy myself some more time.'

The look of surprise on Donna's face when she spotted me pulling up in front of her hotel in a white Fiat Punto, spot on six o'clock, said it all.

‘What's this?' she asked, peering over her Jackie O sunglasses as I wound down the window.

‘It's a car,' I replied, ‘new invention, great for getting from “a” to “b” with.'

‘Okay,' said Donna, laughing. ‘What I meant to say is . . . why are you driving it?'

‘Tom hired it yesterday and put me down as a named driver,' I lied. ‘I thought as you're leaving in a few hours it was pointless to let some surly coach driver have the pleasure of your company when I could have it all to myself.'

The disappointment in Donna's face couldn't have been more apparent. ‘I don't know what to say,' she said.

‘All I'm offering you is a lift to the airport,' I replied.

She didn't look convinced. ‘I'm not sure,' she said, as though the mere thought of getting in a car with me was causing her much unneeded stress. ‘I'll have to talk it over with my sister, okay?'

‘Fine,' I replied tersely, ‘you talk to your sister and I'll wait here.'

As Donna walked back across the road to her hotel I wished that I hadn't bothered hiring the car. Despite my efforts to downplay my big romantic gesture, Donna had spotted the significance of it straight away and run a mile in the opposite direction. Rather than sweeping her off her feet, all I'd succeeded in doing was confirming her worst fears – that perhaps I wanted more than she was willing to give. I couldn't help but think that perhaps Andy had been right. Maybe I was acting like a lovesick teenager. Maybe I had blown my feelings completely out of proportion. Maybe I should've stayed with him last night and tried to pull one of Nina's friends after all.

I looked across the road. Donna was coming out of the main entrance, but much to my disappointment she didn't look any happier than when she'd disappeared inside five minutes earlier.

‘So are you coming or not?' I asked brusquely.

Donna gave me a reluctant nod. ‘But we can't be late for the check-in, Charlie . . . I really mean it.'

‘Fine,' I replied, ‘you tell me what time you want to be there and I'll get you there.'

‘Ten at the latest.'

‘Then ten it is.'

‘I'd better go and get my luggage then.'

‘I'll give you a hand.'

‘There's no need,' said Donna coolly. ‘I'll be fine by myself.'

‘Are you going to tell me what's wrong?' I asked as we finally pulled up on an open piece of rough land near the harbour walls in Heraklion. ‘You've barely said anything the whole journey.'

Donna had seemed wrapped up in her own thoughts and as I hadn't wanted to give her any more of an excuse never to see me again, much of our hour-long journey had been spent in silence. Occasionally she'd make a polite comment or two but then as soon as we'd batted the topic around for a while she would immediately fall back into silence. Even when we reached the outskirts of Heraklion and the roar of jet engines became so frequent that barely a minute passed by without hearing one screeching overhead she said little. Instead she stared out of the car window while the roar of every engine made me increasingly aware of just how little time I had left with Donna.