Azalea and I: On the Road to Spain

Sun, Sand, Sangria – and Murder.

Murder always comes as a bit of a shock – even when encountering it for the third time.

As amateur sleuths, we had already had more than our fair share of drama. But when Lea opened the massive rubbish bin on this hot Spanish evening and we saw a twisted, grotesque body lying on the top, we were rooted to the spot.

‘That’s not a gruesome toy, is it?’ My voice shook.

It took Hans a minute to answer: ‘No, Barbara. That’s Enrico.’

We were each as white as a sheet in contrast to the crimson, blood-soaked body dumped unceremoniously in the basura.

Lea was leaning against a wall – frozen, shocked, glazed eyes staring into space.

I gradually became aware of a mix of houses, shops and café bars all around the area, filled with the early evening activity in the second half of a typical Spanish day.

Two days before …

As we descended the steps from the plane just landed in Malaga, very hot sun hit us instantly. The tarmac shimmered with the heat haze. It was an expected shock and we started acclimatizing immediately. Dressed for heat in shorts and trendy tops with our factor 50 sunscreen already on, we were prepared for almost anything.

It had been an uneventful flight, for which I was grateful. I am not a fan of defying gravity and Azalea’s incessant babble had taken my mind off flying. The babble continued even though now I could do without it – almost. I did enjoy her ‘off the wall’ view of life.

‘– bi-polar, narcissistic, sociopath windbag. Wouldn’t you agree, Barbara?’ Azalea was squinting at me with an intent look as we slowly wound our way to Customs, which was not far enough away to need a bus to the terminal. She had said it with feeling and paused now, waiting for a reply.

’So! You’re not sure about him then?

Silence – a confused look on Lea’s face.

I had to smile. ’I mean, that’s why you dropped him? I hazarded a guess. ’Apart from only knowing him a very few days, of course.’

‘No, Babs, he was a car salesman. A girl can only take so much and he was determined to sell me that snazzy, gold model. I only admired it in passing.’

’Oh, but it was so ‘you’! Anyway, we’re here now and who knows what lies ahead. Last time an innocent start with simple tasks ended in art theft, smuggling, murder and mayhem – and two nice men. Two lovely men.’ I smiled, reminiscing. I had been very happy with my brief, romantic encounter with romance. Ah, Gareth!

A representative was collecting the new arrivals, directing them – and us – to the coach waiting in the parking lot with the name ‘Club La Roca Resort’, our destination for the next couple of weeks at least.

Lea and I were on our second fact-finding mission for my Uncle Charles who owns and runs a coach travel company with a very hands-on philosophy. Madden’s Magic Carpet Tours was his first love and where we had cut our teeth with amateur sleuthing on his behalf. He had recently acquired this holiday complex to expand his ventures and I had been made junior partner – on a steep learning curve in the practicalities of running such a company.

Club La Roca was situated between Malaga and Alicante. We had come incognito to give our opinion on how it ran, or didn’t run, and try a little investigation as to what had happened to the disappearing under-manager, Gerhardt Schmidt. Uncle Charles had had an anonymous letter by snail mail telling him of certain concerns about this which he took seriously. Lea, my zany, starving artist friend, was the perfect foil to my more serious self. We made a good team.

The coach trip took a while, so the early evening sun was still hot but not unbearable when we arrived in this glamorous part of Andalucia. A refreshing breeze followed us to our room after we had left our names and passports at reception. Barbara Wells and Azalea Dunbar had arrived.

We quickly dumped our bags in a huge room with king-size twin beds and an even bigger balcony. It was in a vibrantly coloured, flower filled block of eight bedrooms. Five other similar blocks were nearby, all in sight of the hotel. We went straight out to explore and eat in the beautiful surroundings. Trees swayed, and the sound of the sea lapping on the shore could be heard from the pool and bar terrace, where we sat eyeing up the fully inclusive, seriously varied buffet behind floor-to-ceiling open glass doors.

I had a long wine and soda drink with lots of ice, and Lea had fresh orange to quench her thirst. We felt we deserved this bit of relaxation before the work began.

Azalea was impressed with the food from the buffet. Food seemed to loom large in our lives. ‘I’m going to look at the chicken dish. We won’t need breakfast at this rate. Shall I bring you something back?’

The buffet was a good idea but I couldn’t decide if it was potentially wasteful. The table groaned under the weight of all the food trying to cater for many different tastes: English, Spanish, Italian, Indian, German, vegetarian and more.

I felt slightly overwhelmed. OK, hugely overwhelmed by the choices, so I was happy to leave it to Lea. She came back with as much as she could carry, followed by two waiters with more. Definitely wasteful.

‘Perhaps a note to Uncle C to advise cutting down on the assortment available,’ I pondered.

‘I’m sure I saw an Indian restaurant on the road in. He could at least leave it to them instead, and save a bit of effort here.’ Seems work had indeed already started so I duly wrote this thought down in my notebook.

Lea looked confused. ‘The chicken doesn’t have any legs. I do like a leg.’

‘Well, if we find a supermarket, we’ll buy some and ask the chef to stick some on in future.’

‘Would he do that, do you think?’ Lea was quite serious.

I managed to keep a straight face and my opinion to myself. I should have been used to being bewildered by Azalea but every so often she caught me unawares. I had no doubt that if she asked the chef to attach legs to the hapless chicken, he would try to do it with the greatest of pleasure, smitten with her unwitting charm. Her eating slowed to a stop.

‘You’re not struggling with the rest of that plateful, are you?’ I was ready to gloat.

‘No, I’m resting like an actress in between roles.’

We agreed to relax for the rest of the evening as Spanish evenings were long. Orientate ourselves to our surroundings and unpack, then look at the possible tours we could go on in the next week. Uncle C provided these local tours on coaches, adding another string to the bow in this new acquisition.

First though, we followed the white picket fence down the shallow steps to the beach and found a peaceful atmosphere under some palm trees. We settled on the loungers provided among the lovely, soft, clean sand, noticing the hotel’s private jetty with several boats moored up, gently bobbing. People lounged on them relaxing with drinks. It was getting dark and pretty lights suddenly came on, inviting an evening crowd. Coolers stood near every lounger with water bottles which attentive waiters kept an eye on. Lea was ready for a snooze and arranged her large squashy bag to use as a pillow.

Silence for a while. Then, ‘Babs, do you remember that elderly couple on the bus? You know, they were holding hands all the time.’

I thought a bit.’ Oh yes – couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Didn’t they tell us they’d just got married and they were in their eighties?’

‘That’s right! The woman kept giggling, and her husband was grinning from ear to ear. They were off on a honeymooning adventure in South America. I wonder what lies ahead for us, Babs? What shall we do when we get old?’ She flopped backwards blissfully stretching out.

‘I can’t imagine we’ll grow old gracefully – not you anyway. Mind you, we might not make it to old age! Do you remember when that cable car got stuck hundreds of feet above a ravine and you saw an absolutely massive toilet kitchen towel roll type thing stuffed in a corner, and asked if it was for nervous people to use in emergencies? No one laughed. Then the engineer wiped his oily hands on a piece of it after he’d managed to get the brakes unstuck. He’d had to climb on top of the car with only two railings for safety! Made my palms sweaty, I can tell you. Ugh!’

Only her soft breathing came in answer. She had gone out like a light. She always did have a tendency to fall asleep after food.

I left Lea there and slipped off to have a nosy around. I paused under a tree to get my bearings and a waiter approached, asking in English if I needed anything. A tall, slim great-looking specimen. I was happy to engage him in conversation.

‘It’s my first night here so perhaps you could tell me a bit about the place. Do you all speak English?’

‘We must if we want to get the work. It is the international language for communication. My name is Alvaro and I will be pleased to help and make your stay one to remember.’ He sounded rather formal and stiff.

‘Thank you. That’s good. Your companion up there doesn’t seem too worried about making an effort to help the guests.’ I nodded towards a guy who looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp as he leaned against a door post on the terrace going back into the buffet area.

Alvaro glanced up. ‘Oh, him. Mmm. He is the new deputy under-manager. Very efficient – at what he does.’

Something in his tone made me more inquisitive but cautious. ’Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming. Know what I mean?’

‘Oh, yes. I learned English in England, with many of its idiosyncrasies. Not all, though. Too many.’ He smiled as if some memory amused him. Then he spoke more seriously: ‘It is not for me to say anything about anyone, especially a manager. But if you have a problem with any member of staff, I will get it sorted out.’

Then he brightened up immediately: ‘My job is hosting, which I really enjoy. Being out and about all the time so the day flies. Or evening. And it pays well since we have a new owner. I hear he takes a personal interest in the running of things so this can only be good for guests. I hope he will come here one day. Now, can I do something for you? Show you around? Or I can get drinks for you?’

‘Show me around, please. It’s a larger complex than I realized.’ I thought better of furthering the questioning. A potential source of information and help had been established. I would reveal my identity only when I had a firmer ‘friendship’, depending upon what Lea and I found. I could only think he had been referring to Uncle when he spoke of ‘the new owner’. I also kept it to myself that I spoke Spanish.

We started the tour around the immediate La Roca hotel with its elegant, white porticoed entrance leading into the cool, high-ceilinged reception area and on to all the other facilities. These consisted of two restaurants – the informal buffet we had just experienced which doubled for breakfast, and a fine dining room. Two pools, one for children, and the adults’ pool with loungers, bar and umbrellas giving shade on an otherwise sun-filled terrace. Alvaro drew my attention to the separate menu that cost extra in case the buffet got boring. Hard to believe with so much choice but, hey ho, you never know. More discussions to have with Uncle.

We came back out, moving deeper into the gardens which were full of various Mediterranean trees, palms and abundant colourful flowers, especially the bright flowing bougainvillea. Ad hoc seating allowed guests to rest, taking in sweeping views down to the sea. A golf course rambled upwards and disappeared over the top of the hill, I noticed. A series of tennis courts completed the area.

Uncle Charles had led me to believe it was a small resort so I was suitably impressed. Small?

Compared to what? ‘Welcome to La Roca. Luxury hotel, Golf and Spa Resort’ was written in English, Spanish and German both in the brochures and at the entrance to the resort. I was excited to be a part of it. That it mixed coach parties and private bookings was a source of slight irritation to me but so far it had worked in the few

months Uncle Charles had owned it.

Alvaro told me there were other areas to explore but that it would be better to do it in daylight. Two other autonomous complexes had more restaurants, shops and offices, mixed with swanky time-share, privately-owned villas and apartments. Anyway, he had to get back to his other duties as a ‘host waiter’. The night was young: much partying lay ahead for the tourists, and much work for him.

I knew the villas and apartment provided a lot of the trade for Uncle’s Club complex so I asked, ‘Are you free tomorrow to show us around by any chance? We could have a look at these other parts.’

‘Us?’

‘Sorry. I forgot to mention my friend, Azalea. We are here together, for a week or so.’

‘Together?’ Alvaro raised his eyebrows in involuntary enquiry.

‘Ooh, not like that.’ My cheeks began to go red. ‘Just friends – girls enjoying a sunny break.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. Really.’ He seemed worried he had overstepped the mark, preparing for a hasty exit.

‘Honestly, no offence taken. We would love to have a tour tomorrow if you can make it. Can you OK it with your boss? We can pay if he likes? I don’t want to take you away from your duties.’ I hoped I sounded conciliatory.

‘Oh. Well then, it would be a pleasure. No need for payment. It’s my day off and I would be delighted to take you and your friend around.’ He was both visibly relieved and delighted.

‘I don’t want to spoil your day off. You need to relax!’

‘I would be relaxing. I enjoy being a guide. I can show you the best bars and a good place for lunch.’

‘In that case we will buy lunch. What time in reception? No rush.’

‘About 11 am then. Hasta luego. Um, your name please?’

‘Barbara. Babs. ’

‘Till then, Barbara.’

Just then Lea came in view. She sped over, all curiosity, with that smile on her face.

‘Negative patient outcome, Babs.’

Some introduction. Alvaro and I stared at her quizzically.

‘When I woke up and found you had gone, I went to our room to see if you were there. Thought I would wait a while and started reading your book – from the end backwards.’

Alvaro looked puzzled.

‘I like a happy ending so I always read the ending first,’ she explained. ’The patient died, so– negative outcome. Anyway, I’m Lea. Azal-e-a.’ She articulated the syllables carefully. People were always assuming ‘Lea’ was ‘Lee’ and that would always make her bristle.

Then she beamed and held out her hand to Alvaro who responded in kind, but formally: ‘Hello. I’m Alvaro. At your service.’ He shook hands firmly.

‘Alvaro has kindly agreed to show us around tomorrow on his day off. So, we are buying lunch. Well, Uncle is.’ I hadn’t meant to mention Uncle Charles so glossed over it rapidly: ‘I’m buying it. We look forward to it, Alvaro. Excuse us. We have tourist chores to do. Someone has to. Come on, Lea. Time for a glass of something cold and alcoholic.’

We all smiled and went our separate ways. There was music coming from inside so we headed towards it, finding an elegant white and gold piano lounge. Normally, white and gold glitter sets my teeth on edge but this was very understated. Settling in low large comfy chairs big enough for a whole family, we looked around. The chairs were very pale green, complimenting the profusion of potted palms. They looked wonderfully elegant but were totally impractical. The notes were mounting up.

We were near the pianist who was noticeably short. In fact, I wondered how he managed to reach the pedals. I was about to fill Lea in on my findings so far, when she awkwardly pushed her way out of the chair. Good job the arms were stout and supportive. After a few wines I could imagine it would become a battle getting out of the monster chairs.

‘Think I’ll ask if he does requests.’

She went straight over to him. He was rifling through sheets of music, putting some away.

‘Excuse me - are you finishing now?’

‘Oh no. Just a break. I do four sessions, so three more to go. I finish about 1 am. Off to eat now. If you want a request I will be happy to do it later. You can look through the list of all the songs I do.’ He handed her a four-page, double-sided epic. Lea’s eyes widened as she glanced through.

‘Is there anything you can’t do?’

‘Not much. I prefer classic rock n’ roll but all the styles are there. Ballads, swing, top hits and stuff. No heavy metal, hip hop, reggae. That’s for the late music club. Or old-fashioned disco.’ he smiled pleasantly.

‘Well – my friend Babs and I are here for two weeks so we’ll work our way through. I’m Lea.’

’David. Pleased to meet you, ladies. My apologies. I should say ‘señoritas’.’ He inclined his head charmingly. ‘See you later then. I’m off back home to eat. It’s not far and I get to see my kid before he goes to bed.’

He was English. I thought I would cultivate him as well as Alvaro. Time was on our side.

‘Now I’m up, Babs, I think I’ll go to the bar for a drink. Joining me or shall I bring one over? All these mini palms are good to lurk behind and observe people. Do you want white wine or one of those posh fruit G and T’s?’’

‘Joining you. Yes, the palms are just right for décor and lurking behind – and rhubarb gin with ordinary tonic, thank you.’ All one sentence. Whew.

I got up before she could comment on any of that and stood at the bar with her. We sprawled over it, handbags taking up quite a bit of space. Lea’s was the biggest and I swear she had brought it specially in case we found a stray dog needing rescue. We had found on our first trip for Uncle – and had indeed rescued it.

The array of gins was impressive. I remembered Uncle C telling me a lot of English people lived around here and frequented this resort. But maybe gin was an international fashion now. I told Lea about Alvaro and his hesitation on the subject of the wasp man.

‘Hmm. Shades of the Hyena,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Could we end up in another pickle? Probably reading too much into it, I think. Just an employee with a bad attitude – which is not good, of course,’ she conceded.

We pondered for a while on our previous adventure with the terrifying man we had named the Hyena. We had had lots of scares on our previous trip, both perceived and real, so in the future I wanted to be focused between reality and getting carried away.

Three slow gins later, David returned accompanied by a tall, slim blonde who towered over him. They came to the bar and ordered drinks for themselves. David waved to us, then spoke to his friend, and they made their way along the long bar.

‘This is my wife, Helen. Helen, these girls have just arrived and are finding their way around. Perhaps you can entertain them while I play a few numbers? Lea and Barbara, is that OK?’

We all smiled at each other. I took in Helen’s height – at least five foot eleven to David’s four foot ten – or so. Strange what attracts people to each other. David took his drink to the piano and we were left with the attractive Helen. Her long, wavy hair nearly gave Lea’s a run for its money.

I hoped Helen didn’t feel put upon so I dived in: ‘I hear you have a child at home. Doesn’t he mind having to look after himself?’

Then I hoped I hadn’t sound accusatory. I had a bad habit of speaking before thinking.

‘Oh no. He has a babysitter. He’s only a year old. We have a sitter three nights a week so I can see more of David. He works late six nights a week so he sleeps a lot during the day. I work day time but we meet up afternoons in siesta time before I go back to work for the evening shift. Though the Spanish think of it as afternoon. It works well ¬David is around for Daniel in the mornings, even if he is asleep.’

‘How very organized. I’m impressed.’ Lea was always impressed by people and things that were organized. Uncle’s sophistication had made me more blasé. ‘What’s your work?’ she asked (Good, I thought. Always talk about the other person. They always find that interesting!)

‘I work in an estate agency on one of the other complexes. It’s a lovely job, swanning around showing the area to potential clients and seeing all those luxury villas. There’s a timeshare office on another one but that’s not my style.’ Helen smiled the smile of someone who genuinely enjoyed her work. ‘We came out here for David’s job four years ago and are really lucky that part of his contract supplies free accommodation. We love it, and with me working, we hope to settle permanntly by buying our own house one day.’

‘So – you really know the area?’

‘Yes. We’ve done our share of exploring. Have you seen the old mine shafts– or rather air vents –for the underground mining? Oh, you won’t have. You’ve only just arrived.’ She gave a ‘silly me’ smile.

’We’re having a guided tour tomorrow with Alvaro – the host waiter. Helen nodded obviously knowing Alvaro.

‘I’ll mention the mines,’ I said. ‘Alvaro’s very accommodating. If all the staff are the same, it’s a great asset to the place. ’

‘He is and they are. It’s the expats that you need to watch. A lot of gossip and bitchiness can go on. Though I say it myself as an expat. I try not to get tarred with the same brush. Sometimes you can’t help it. Nothing is malicious – unless it’s deserved. Bit like small country villages back in the UK. I was born and brought up in a small place. Loved the anonymity of Manchester but I still had lots of friends.’

’I know what you mean. We live in London – that’s got ‘villages’ too – and lots of gossip.’

‘People probably gossip about your Uncle, Babs. Big fish, small pond.’

I wished Lea hadn’t said that and glared. It was OK for me to make a blunder but not Lea, I thought.

‘My uncle has a small travel company. He heard about this place and wondered if he might want to send clients here, so asked us to check it out on a holiday. But please don’t say anything. It may never happen and I don’t want people being nice simply to impress in order to get more business. It has to be genuinely good.’ I congratulated myself on my quick thinking.

‘No problem. I understand.’

I got the feeling I could trust Helen, warming to her quickly. I was usually right with such things.

‘If I can be of any help, just ask,’ she said. ‘Come to my office tomorrow on your tour if you like – or whenever you can. I’ll give you my business card. Alvaro knows where it is. The only fly in the ointment at the moment is that the under-manager disappeared suddenly. No reason given and can’t be found. No communication from him – all very strange. The new under-manager is … is … how can I put this?’

She was obviously struggling to be diplomatic.

‘He was head of housekeeping so it’s not really his thing with all the extra responsibility front of house. I think he’s not used to it so goes overboard to be nice to guests. Bit sickly. When the under-manager, Gerhardt, disappeared it was obvious this guy would get the job – unfortunately. The gap had to be filled quickly and no one else was available. But things can change.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Karim Badour. He’s Moroccan. There are a lot of Moroccan gypsies around. There’s one enclave in particular where you just drive through and hope you don’t break down. You know you’re in that area because it’s so run-down. They wouldn’t harm you but you might come away without your valuables. It would be an unpleasant experience. Maybe Karim is from these people but has made a better life for himself. I am supposing and gossiping, which isn’t really fair of me. I don’t know – but I suspect his character fits.’

‘Why don’t the police do something?’ Lea asked.

Helen spoke thoughtfully. ’You can’t convict on speculation. No one actually has broken down there, but people who live around have had things stolen even though everyone watches out for each other. Houses near the area were cheaper so it appealed to some cash-strapped expats as a bargain. The Polićia Local keep an eye out and the Guardia drive through a lot.

‘Guardia Civil I’ve seen. What’s the difference between them and the Polićia Local?’ Lea raised an eyebrow in enquiry.

‘Guardia. Oh the Guardia are very serious. Live and breathe the job. Sometimes die for it. Used to be known as Franco’s police as they were – are – very strict. Burglary, assault, smuggling, drug trafficking. They work hand in hand with the elite Trafico who have motor bikes, helicopters, boats and more to call on. ’

‘And the Local Police? Polićia Local?’

’Responsible to the mayor basically. Police equivalent of ‘First Responders’ then they hand over to the Guardia. Not much in the way of resources. Traffic and parking offences, helping kids across the road. The Polićia Nacional are a ferocious bunch. Smart black uniforms. Get all the big jobs. Wear scary gear – face masks and stuff on missions. Most police have handguns as a matter of course.’

Now we knew.

‘We have all the equivalents in the UK but by other names don’t we, Babs? Minus a lot of the guns.’

I was hoping we wouldn’t ever need to find out which ones we needed while we were over here. Maybe a Polićia Local would be very happy to see Lea across a road but I didn’t think our lollipop people would go down well with Lea. Not as romantic as a foreign policeman giving a helping hand.

‘Yes, it’s interesting to see the way other countries operate. Travel broadens the mind especially in places like India with huge populations, poverty or superb wealth.’

I was getting carried away and was suitably cut off. ‘Can we just concentrate on Spain, Babs? I have enough trouble figuring out why the Spanish have a siesta.’

‘That’s because … ’

‘I wasn’t serious. I know it’s because the shops close for the afternoon.’

Helen and I looked at each other. It was difficult stifling a laugh so we smiled broadly and changed the subject.

Helen volunteered, ’There’s a mining museum nearby. Worth a look. You’ll find the old mines interesting too. A lot were opencast so you can see what was being mined. Big holes in the ground with so many different colours – bright yellows, purples, blues. They really have a unique beauty. Shame it poisoned the earth. The area’s taking years to clean up. It’s still ongoing. The EU refused money for it, so in the end, private investment has had to get involved.’ As an afterthought: ‘If they wanted to develop the land, that is.’

Just then a short, stocky man with a bag clutched under his arm entered the room, walking or should I say mincing, rapidly across to to the bar. He had a clipped sort of walk which, combined with the mincing action, drew attention. He spoke in a friendly, familiar way to one of the barmen. This took our attention – it didn’t seem to fit the setting.

‘That’s Enrico. The one and only known, openly gay around here. He is tolerated because he’s local but many of the Spanish are not so broadminded. They’re mostly country folk. Wouldn’t matter in a big town. In fact there is gay pride march every year in San Cartana. Enrico is OK.’ Helen shrugged, accepting of him.

’Well, I agree with the ‘known’ bit – but doubt he’s ‘alone’, judging by the way he and the barman are smouldering at each other.’ They seemed to be unaware of the way it appeared.

Helen looked sharply towards them. ’My goodness. I certainly didn’t see that coming. That’s Gonzales’s son. His family’s ultra conservative. I am surprised they’ve let him work in a bar.

Near the flesh pots of the expats. I hope for his sake we’re misreading the situation.’

Lea piped up. ‘Live and let live, I say. Parents can surprise you anyway.’

‘Not these.’

Dead flat statement. I believed Helen.

‘Anyway, the mines sound fascinating.’ Lea pressed on. ‘What were they mining?’

‘Oh – it wasn’t so much the mining as the slag heaps that were created after smelting. So much was created that it pushed the sea back about a mile. You can see the old harbour and restaurant which are now on dry land. The restaurant is still open and has lots of character. Has a great reputation for food and is well patronized. I went a few nights ago with some girls. We had to drive but it’s on a quiet road and one of us had only one wine. The police used to be very tolerant about drinking and driving – unless you maimed or killed someone. Then they threw the key away. Now, you really have to watch it all the time.’

She paused. Then – ‘A friend of mine killed a child. Not his fault and he was sober but he’d had a drink – they smelled it on his breath. The family wanted to kill him. Dragged on for two years. Eventually he was found not guilty but then the family went after financial compensation. A deal was struck. Needless to say my friend went back to the UK very disillusioned and much poorer.’

‘I’m beginning to think the Spanish laid-back attitude is not all it’s cracked up to be.’ I knew Spain from my gap year but Barcelona is unique, and a far cry from La Roca.

‘I’ve just googled mining,’ Lea piped up. ‘What a history indeed! Goes back to the Romans - and before.’

Small silence so I filled the gap. ‘Do tell,’ I invited.

‘Well, as Helen’s told us, the modern mining has produced the most awful mess and pollution. Minerals, zinc, copper, nickel, arsenic, iron oxides, compounds for flotation. Sodium cyanide, aluminium, calcium … prrr,’ She blew out her lips and vibrated them. ‘Not sure I understand all this.’

‘Me neither,’ I replied. ‘Are you sure you have everything in the right order? ’

‘Of course not.’

‘Ah well, just so long as we know.’

‘There’s a tourist trail down in one of the mines. It has an orange lake. You have to book. Shall we go, Babs? ’

‘Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it. Let’s do our tour with Alvaro tomorrow so we know a bit better where everything is. Do you think we should be heading for bed soon? I’m beginning to flag.’

‘I suppose so. David hasn’t done any requests for me yet and he has two more sessions to go.’

How do you cope with it, Helen?’

‘I’m used to late nights. Siestas make up for it - and I pace myself.’

‘I suppose we have been knocking it back a bit. First night and all that.’

‘Speak for yourself, Babs. I’m as fresh as a daisy.’

Dangerous words.

Helen waved from her stool to a tall, slim man who had just come in. He came over smiling, kissed Helen on both cheeks and waited for the introduction.

‘This is Hans. Local entrepreneur. Has a finca down in the village Las Aqueas. Hans, this is Barbara and Lea.’

‘Encantada. Wilkommen. Welcome. Are you on holidays or hoping to move here? ’

‘Holiday for now. Who knows later on. We live in hope,’ I responded.

‘I came here twenty-six years ago, coming and going for work then back to my family. My wife didn’t like it so it became right to stay and not go back to Germany. This is home now – with no wife.’

He chuckled and we had to smile.

Hans had the typical look of a blonde, blue-eyed, straight-backed Teutonic specimen. His vivid blue eyes sparkled. He was somewhere in his fifties. I noticed Lea had a strange endearing smile on her face while she studied the newcomer. Oh yes – the more mature man. He returned her interest. No surprise there. Well, I didn’t mind in the least as I preferred my men younger – like Alvaro. And Gareth. Hmm.

‘Finca – what goes on there?’ Lea’s smile widened.

‘I have a big building with land where I sell jacuzzis, whirlpools, small pre-formed pools and estufas – sorry, fires for the winter. It gets cold also in the south of Spain. Most of my clients are German and English. It’s a problema as they are efficiently by nature and expect results rapido but my suppliers are Spanish who have big mañana life with severity. So laidback they are almost flat. You must come with pleasure. I live there too.’ His English had a slight accent.

’We would love to, wouldn’t we, Barbara? We have two invitations already. Aren’t we lucky?

Everyone is so friendly.’

‘Here’s my card. Helen, can you bring them one day? I can do lunch for you all.’

‘Of course. We’ll try and arrange it asap. I do like a man who cooks.’

‘No choice. I am alone. No one cooks for me – but I prefer me to myself. I go to the ventas to make life easy. I get tired of puree.’ He pronounced it ‘puray’.

’Puree?

‘Mashed potato from a packet. I keep many of them. Seven for any week. I will need an extra packet when you come.’ Hans’s smile was charming, his eyes twinkling.

‘We’ll sort it out after our trip with Alvaro. I hope that’s OK with you, Helen?’

‘Absolutely. Looking forward to it all. Nice change for me. Er, phone numbers, girls?’

‘Oh, of course. Here.’ I handed a card over. ‘Now Lea, it might be early in Spain but our minds are still recovering from a busy few days so what say you to an early night and unpack.’

‘Not until David plays a request for me. Just one,’ she wheedled, and whipped off to the piano.

David nodded agreeably. Lea sent a drink over to him which a barman took over and put on a drinks mat on the top of the piano. He had three whiskey and waters in a row now.

‘I’ll put it on the room bill. Anyone else want a drink?’ Lea offered generously. With Uncle’s money backing it up. But to be fair, we were allowed expenses.

‘One for the road,’ I responded.

‘Thank you! Tea and biscuits on me when you come to my office – providing I’m not busy,’ volunteered Helen, ‘and then we can firm up Hans’s invitation. We can talk in the morning.’

’Sounds like a plan. Ah, my music’s being played – ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’. Then I’ve asked for something by the Rolling Stones: “I’m an Old-Fashioned Girl’.

You didn’t comment, Babs – so I added one. And, by the way, I meant me – I’m an old-fashioned girl!’

Big sigh from me. A sort of smirk from Helen who was already getting the measure of Lea and a smile from Hans.

‘Right, that’s the two songs now. Bed, Lea. We have a lot of exploring to do tomorrow. You can do what you want another night. In fact stay up all night if you want. Just not tonight.’

‘Oh – OK!’ Crestfallen and deflated, but a last fight emerged. ‘I am tempted to be seditious with you, Babs’

‘I’m not an authority, a state, a monarchy or, or – ’ I glared. ‘You’re doing it again. Not quite in context.’

‘No, but I’m trying.’

‘You certainly are that.’

‘Ah well.’ She shrugged, smiled and gave in. Even looked a bit sheepish.

‘ Night everyone. Lovely to meet you all. I just know we’ll have a lovely time.’ She waved cheerily to David and we both received the Spanish double-cheek air kisses from Hans and a thumbs-up from Helen, who chose not to move from her bar stool.

Back in the bedroom Lea hit the bed without brushing her teeth. Most unusual. Nothing to do with all the gins of course. Gentle zzzzzzzs ensued. I pondered on smothering her with a pillow but decided against it when I remembered I needed her input. I lay face down, head sideways so I could still breathe and put a pillow over my head instead.

‘Good night, friend,’ I said to myself. What nice people we had met tonight. So nice. My mind drifted, with warm, fuzzy thoughts of Angelique, the rescued dog, and Azalea with periods of lucidity. What would this trip bring? Adventure or just fun?

Lea, Le -ah. Hair covered her face, threatened to take over her whole being. Jealous, hair, hair, best friend, would give her life for me, me for her. Gareth not agreeing. My hero from Venice.

Yes, Gareth, who had saved my life in Venice. Would Alvaro be my hero? Alvaro future …

Gareth past. Nooo. Lovely Gareth. Sexy Alvaro, Gareth, Alvaro … merging, mingling. Warm fuzzy feeling more and more. Thoughts, coming, going. So clear. Reminiscing, drifting, Alvaro. Gareth – Food zzzzzzz . Delicious. Yummy. Food. Mountains of it. Table falling, so much weight. Always food around Lea and animals. Always animals. Compulsory animals. Drifting, swirling, warm room – and G and T’s zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.