Wednesday, 27 November 2019

Three's a Crowd



by Gill James

mixed shots

"Well this seems all right." Hal sank down on to one of the beds.
"Hmm. The view's not bad either." Sam was standing on the balcony, looking out towards the sea.
No, the view wasn't at all bad. He couldn't stop staring at her perfectly formed buttocks. He'd got himself a winner there: she was beautiful, intelligent and she was all his. What a pity he couldn't just keep her to himself for this short break.
Right on cue there was a knock on the door.
Sam rushed from the balcony and ran over to open it. "Hi Trevor," she called. "Is your room as gorgeous as this one?"
Did she have to be so friendly to him? They'd talked about this before they came away. They were supposed to be as nasty as possible to Trevor and they should try their best to put him off hanging around with them. It didn't look as if Sam was making much effort.
And now here he was. Drippy Trevor, looking slightly crazy with his silly thin legs poking out of his Bermuda shorts. His bright orange hat was even more stupid and could anyone look any tackier than he did in the flowered T-shirt?           

That evening they stayed in the hotel bar after dinner. Hal was so pissed off at having to put up with Trevor that he couldn't stop drinking. But even all of those shots weren't enough to anaesthetise him against the irritation that was drippy Trevor. And Sam was still being far too friendly and making no effort whatsoever to shake the third wheel off. His own coldness didn't seem to be enough either.    

He woke the next morning as Sam nudged him. "Come on. Best get going if we're to be there in time for the kayaking session."
He turned over and groaned. His head felt as if a hammer and a knife with a sharp edge were crashing around inside. Then he was hit by a wave of nausea and had to rush to the bathroom where he vomited copiously,
"Are you all right?" Sam called.
He wasn't. When he dared to come out of the bathroom it was only to face a Sam who was looking slightly disgusted.  
There was no magic cure. There was no way he could go out kayaking feeling this bad. He could only wave to Trevor and Sam as they made their way to the beach.
"Look after her for me," he called from the balcony.
"Of course I will," replied Trevor, a bit too gleefully Hal thought. 
He returned to his bed and slept again.
He woke up several times and still his head pounded. He drank goodness knows how many glasses of water each time then went straight back to sleep. Finally he woke up and the headache had gone.
He showered, pulled on some fresh clothes and wandered down to the small cafe in the foyer.
My, it was hot even here in the shade. He was astounded to see that it was already afternoon.
He was tempted to try the hair of the dog but he decided against it. He wanted to be fully alert for when they returned. Why had he been so ill? Sure, he'd had a lot to drink but he was used to it wasn't he? Something wasn't quite right. Perhaps it had been a bug. But he felt better again now. 
He settled for a bottle of water and a chili dog.
They seemed to do the trick. He was now completely human once more. 
He was about to order a coffee when he saw people rushing towards the shoreline. 
An ambulance had pulled up on the street and a couple of paramedics were hurtling towards the sea.
Then he saw Trevor get out of a boat. One of the paramedics wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.
Where the fuck was Sam? Hal got up from his seat and started running.
"Shall I put your bill on the room, sir?"
He hardly registered what the waiter was saying but just about managed to nod. A few seconds later he was standing next to Trevor. "Where is she, mate? What have you done with her?"
Trevor covered his eyes. "I didn't mean to do it," he stammered. "We got into a bit of a fight. Then her kayak overturned. The instructor pulled her out but ... "
"What?"
Hal watched in disbelief as the paramedics carried a stretcher to the ambulance. On it was someone covered completely with a blanket. They only did that when someone died, right? That was his Sam?
He grabbed Trevor by the shoulder. "What were you fighting about?"
Trevor gulped. "About her not leaving you."
"Not leaving me?"
"That's right. She's been wanting to for months but couldn't find the right moment to tell you. She was scared of what you might do. She was supposed to have finally broken up with you before we came away. It was meant to be just me and her here."
"What?" Hal suddenly remembered the drinks.
"Last night, in the bar, did you...?"
Trevor grimaced. "Oh yes. I spiked your drinks all right. Not quite enough, obviously."
Hal punched him squarely on the nose. There was a loud crack and Trevor's face was soon covered with blood. Hal had probably broken his nose. That was at least something. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Gentlemen, we would like you to accompany us to the station."
The other police officer was already putting handcuffs on Trevor.   

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