Chapter 7

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  • Dedicado a jen
                                    

Never have I been so happy to watch the neon flashing lights of Zorb's, dancing in front of me like a shifting rainbow, from inside the bar as a customer.

'Ahhhh.' I sighed, relaxing in to the padded wicker chair, something similar to the furniture that was allegedly stolen from Granny's summer house circa 1984. Reclining my head back I soaked up the dulcet tones of Chris Issak's "Wicked Game" which wafted about me like the camembert infused scent of Adonis's aftershave.

'Don't fall asleep Emma.' Katie shook at my leg.

'I'm not, I'm relaxing. I'm chronically exhausted don't you know? Chronically.'

'So Dave mentioned, although I'm not sure he's happy about it. He's talking about getting a second opinion because the doctor wasn't qualified and so he doesn't believe him.'

'Whatever,' I opened my left eye and looked at her, or what I could see of her face if it wasn't obstructed by her massive bozonka's, 'but I happen to think that Liam is highly qualified and knew exactly what he was talking about.'

'Liam?'

'Yes, Liam.' I turned to look out at the water, unsure of the tone of Katie's voice.

It actually is lovely here, dare I say it, at Zorb's; all soft music and the sound of the sea lapping gently next to the row of moored boats, the yellow reflection of the harbour lights spilling like blobs of paint across the ripples of the gentle tide. Now that I've stopped for a minute I can almost see why people pay to holiday here. It's so chilled, the complete opposite of that monstrous airport, and the heat at this time of the evening smells so enchanting; a cocktail of herbs and sleepiness letting out a big sigh of relief following the extreme heat of the day.

'You wanna Sex on the Beach, cute English ladies?' Ugh, why does Adonis have to go and ruin everything by working here?

'Bloody hell Adonis,' I lurched back coughing, suffocated by the potent smell of his perfume, 'I'd actually prefer a red wine, please.' I blinked away the tears which streamed from my stinging eyes.

'You no like Sex on the Beach? Why not? Everyone likes Sex on the Beach.' He looked offended. 'Hey Harry,' he shouted over to the barman, 'You listen to this; this good looking girl here, she just turned down Sex on the Beach. Apparently she doesn't like it.'

'I never said that.' Why do I sound so defensive; I don't need to justify my choice of drink to this slime bag. 'I just said I'd like a red wine. You do serve red wine here?'

'Harry, you heard the lady, get her a red wine.' He waved over his orders. 'You see that guy over there?' He turned again to us, thrusting his face forward whilst pointing at the barman. 'That is the best, most honest hardworking guy you will find on this island, except me of course.' Of course he was laughing. 'He comes here to find a nice lady, so I say to him "you have come to the right place my friend". But he says, "I'm not so sure Adonis, why the Greek women, they are hairy like wolves."' I gasped in horror. 'So I say to him, "don't talk about my mother like that!" Why the son of a bitch; he is such a good guy.'

What sort of a wretch would talk about women that way? Adonis I can expect it from, but now this guy too. Talk about your typical Brit abroad; one whiff of the sun and alcohol and that's it, all manners forgotten.

'Hey Harry!' Adonis continued his one sided conversation, oblivious to his crudeness, 'Come see my two favourite cute English ladies. E-N-G-L-I-S-H, just like you like them!'

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