Short Story: Poolside

Short Story: Poolside

Clancy clanging a rusty catering can that once contained tomato, a can filled with charred embers from an impromptu barbecue spilling into the light breeze.

Poolside, she looks up; irritated. “Stop that. I say – stop that.”

The refined air of a bored woman, a bored English woman, interrupted in her boredom by a child set on unsettling the calm.

“Put it down. Come over here.”

She pushes the novel away. Why she brought it when there were a dozen others she might have chosen; something to do with improving the mind.

The boy wanders over, about nine or ten, big for his age, with face fixed firm; a wilful gaze. His hands are filthy, his clothes garish with Pixar hang off his awkward frame.

“Where is your mother?"

The question is rhetorical. Clancy isn’t looking at her. He’s found something more interesting in the pool where a semi naked woman is gliding effortlessly beneath the surface like a seal. Like a prodigious but slippery mammal, breaking the glassy calm only when halfway along a length to suck in air before slipping under again. Her red bikini briefs the only covering to her nudity. Clancy is fascinated but turns away before she reaches the end.

“Where is that woman?”

Kathy Chalmers arrived at the resort following a falling out with her husband. It’s why she’s brought too many of the wrong clothes. Part of her is leaving him and part simply clearing the air. Such a contentious phrase; how can she clear the air without a good argument? He remained at home – back there in Surrey and she was here in Rimini, poolside, surrounded by women able to display a BMI half her size with men indifferent at best and children that played her up.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a cornet.”

The boy remained stubbornly silent, refusing to join her. Where oh where was the blessed mother. ‘I’ll only be a couple of minutes – you don’t mind?’ She had said. Blast the woman. Damn and blast.

The underwater creature was clambering out of the pool. Glistening and silky she fell into a sun lounger, where her perfect breasts stood up nipple aligned in the sunlight, like beacons, like satellites searching the skies. The boy was staring too; she never knew when it occurred with the male species - this sexual drive that took over their lives. Her sons had progressed through all the phases; the fascination, the attraction, the overwhelming desire – leading to frustration, leading to a series of undesirable girlfriends, to all night parties, to fornication. To whatever lay beyond. Leading to a life like her own?

Was it sex that worried her? Maybe this was the root of her problem; there had never been enough, or it had been unsatisfactory, or hasty, or inconvenient, or simply bad. Too much bad sex leading to what? To envy; to listlessness and boredom; to loneliness and compromise; to want? But what did she want; what was there to want? Same as it ever was.

What she wanted right now was for the boy’s mother to appear and reclaim her son. And where was Clancy? Where had he gone? God he was standing right beside the Solar Goddess staring at her breasts, and he had that hungry look on his face. She knew it at once; she had seen it in her own men.

The young woman was engaging Clancy, using wipes to get his hands clean. What was she saying to him? Something in Italian, or was it French?

She bustled nearer. “I’m sorry – so sorry. Scusi Signoritta – is he bothering you?”

“No bother.”

The girl went on wiping the boy’s outstretched hands as her breasts bounced vigorously with the thoroughness of the task. The nipples were hard. The kind of hardness that comes on during sex, or with excitement, or with silicone (Kathy was imagining).

“Clancy and I are good friends – eh?” The girl patted him on the head. “I don’t know you, do I?”

Kathy paused, shuffling her feet to obtain a decent posture.

“I’m Kathy Chalmers – how do you do?”

Just then she heard Clancy’s mother calling from the steps that led down to the pool, and the boy immediately raced back to his mother’s side. The glandular girl had turned away too, searching for a bronzer on the table beside her, on which lay an expensive pair of dark glasses, a couple of fashion magazines, and a tall drink with a straw peeking out. Kathy envied her for the way her life was laid out for all to see – such confidence, she was thinking, such belief.

“You do not have to mind about Clancy,” the girl remarked, and Kathy wondered what she meant by it.

“I don’t – he’s nothing to do with me.”

The girl shaped a dismissive smile before settling back into the lounger as Kathy plodded back to her own, where she found the sun was now a good deal hotter than before. She felt frazzled; unlike the girl Kathy had forgotten to bring a drink with her to the pool and it was a hassle going to the bar to obtain one. She sat down, but then promptly stood up again to slip out of the sarong she had wrapped herself into to step into the pool. The water felt chilly but she allowed herself to sink lower and lower until only her head and shoulders were visible before ducking under to sit on the bottom staring upwards. It was only half a minute at most but she erupted like a sea cow gasping for air. No one had seen her go under. No one at all and the sun felt hot on her head. She climbed the steps to stand barefoot on tiles that burned the soles of her feet. Italy was hot; really hot, much hotter than she had expected and she sought shelter beneath a candy striped umbrella.

In the distance she spotted a waiter and waved him over. He was the same man who had served her at breakfast. She ordered ‘something long and cool with ice.’ He nodded and she hoped he understood, watching as he waddled towards the girl with her satellite tits. His audience with her was filled with laughter and an exchange of banter before he waddled back towards the hotel to fetch their order. At breakfast there had been Germans, a French couple and a number of Italian families, but none had shown their faces poolside and she wondered whether there was something better on offer elsewhere. She had flown to Rimini on a whim, perhaps hoping for pursuit from an errant husband but not expecting it, and knew absolutely nothing about the area. It was famous, of course, but famous for what exactly?

She was interrupted in her thoughts as a man hopped down the steps to the pool; she knew it was a man from the hairy chest, the muscular arms, but more precisely from the posing pouch into which his penis had been slung and hung down between his thighs like a weapon. Yes, a weapon – she knew the analogy well enough, watching as he swam a couple of lazy lengths before propelling himself to the edge of the pool where the glistening mermaid lay exposed. They began a conversation in Italian and Kathy listened, not that she understood a word, but simply to hear conversation taking place.

The waiter returned with something orange and red in colour, in which she tasted lime juice and a flavouring of alcohol, but the drink was cold and long and tasted fresh. She sipped from it soothingly, resting it against her brow as she tried to get back into the novel she had been reading. By now the man had moved to sit open legged on a lounger beside the girl, and his posture gave away the fact he was aroused. It was there for all to see, and Kathy wondered if this was the norm. Heavens, it had been long enough since any man had shown an interest in her; maybe this was ok for today’s generation. She wanted to look away, but instead kept glancing over the top of her book to see what was happening. Nothing; the girl was obviously adept at ignoring this man, or any man if it came to it. In time he got up, stretched so that the cock pouch expanded even more than before, before wandering away. Kathy watched, without realising she was watching, as his lithe bum ascended the steps disappearing towards the hotel.

***

An elderly Italian couple occupied the only other table at lunch. Afterwards she went to her room, changed and went down to the foyer to examine the brochures. Mostly it was excursions or boat trips or visits to shrines or places of religious pilgrimage.

“Are you here alone?” a voice beside her asked, and she met the gaze of the girl who had been down by the pool.

The girl was now dressed in a white top with faded yellow jeans.

“Yes,” she answered mechanically.

“Come with me.”

Kathy followed, without knowing why she was following as they went out into the glare of the car park where the girl opened the passenger door into a small Fiat. It was oven hot inside but thankfully contained a dazzlingly effective air-con that cooled the temperature to an arctic low.

“Where are you going?” Kathy asked.

“I show you Rimini,” the girl responded. “It is good you see with a native – not a tourist guide. They will rip you off.”

Kathy allowed herself to be driven, as the girl expertly glided in and out of mad Italian traffic. Along the way the girl began a commentary about the resort and Kathy listened until realising she didn’t even know the young woman’s name.

“Angelica – they call me Angel.”

So, not even a shit name, Kathy was thinking.

“That’s nice.”

Angel glanced at her in the mirror; a snatched glance before swearing at a taxi driver who swerved to the kerb in front of them.

Angel pulled up at the lights. “Why are you here alone?”

Kathy felt startled to be asked so direct a question. “I think I may be leaving my husband.”

“Don’t you know?”

“No,” she answered assertively. ”And why are you here?”

Angel pulled away with a squeal of tyres. “My sister was due to come but she has to work. Her boss is a bastard – works her ass hard. I told her to quit but she won’t. She has a strong desire to please people – not like me….”

“Where do you come from – where do you live?”

“Bologna – a city to the north. I live alone.”

Kathy stared at passing buildings as Angel began a travelogue describing landmarks they were passing, but Kathy’s mind wasn’t on playing the role of a typical tourist. “That man at the pool….”

“A fool. An adventurer. An adulterer….”

“You handled him.”

“Did I? He wants someone to suck his cock – perhaps you. I saw you look. He’s not my type.”

Kathy smiled, examining the girl’s profile. “What type do you prefer?”

“I like English boys – they are well behaved…respectful. They don’t try to touch my tits – not like Italian men….”

“You have a handsome body – well disciplined.” Kathy remarked, hoping it came across as a compliment.

“It should be – I worked for it. I paid a handsome price….”

Kathy had no clear sense of what the girl was implying, if there was anything to be implied. Angel pulled up at another set of lights, turning to her boldly. “You do well to remember men here will go for English girls. Italian women – we are born bitches and raised Catholic. Snap his balls in a vice. But not the English.” She examined the building they were parked alongside which was a church. “You like dead religion – you want to visit this ancient relic? See the Nuns scamper about like moth eaten grey mice. Is that why you came – to see the past? Italy is filled with relic – it’s all we can do to climb out from under the weight of the country.”

“You don’t value your heritage.”

Angel made a pff sound. “The past bores me. I am born today. I want only what I can make for myself. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong…. Maybe you’re not right either. I don’t know. Don’t ask me, I can’t seem to make up my mind about anything.”

They drove on, speeding up to reach the outskirts of Rimini. Angel headed onto a coastal road that took a winding route through a series of small villages and towns.

“That little boy – Clancy, he was staring at you. Your breasts.”

Angel laughed. “I know that. And why not?”

“But he’s just a child – a baby.”

Angel ignored the remark. She did a lot of ignoring, choosing when to pick up on a phrase or remark. She turned on the radio creating a babble of sound before switching it off again.

“He’s a man down there – maybe he doesn’t feel it yet, but he will. What, you think I should not say it – should not think it? Pff!!! Should I be more careful – to please who? I don’t think I owe anyone an explanation for my actions. Do you?”

What Kathy really thought she dared not express to this bold girl. “Maybe a little more caution. It’s a very public place.”

“Pff!!! I am not afraid to use my sexuality. Are you? I will not hide my body…it is who I am. What any man – or boy – wants to think I do not care, but they should know I am choosy. I go for class – by that I mean real class. I told you I like English boys.”

“Yes – but not all English boys have class.”

Angel drove off the ocean road finding a place where they could park above the sea. “You know this sea is the Adriatic – not the Med. Over there is Greece. I went to Greece once – the men act like Italian men. No manners. Their women have hair above their upper lip….” She smiled, examining her face in the mirror. “You do not say very much – do I bore you….?”

“No. That’s not it – I was thinking….”

Kathy abandoned the remark she’d been intending to make about taking holidays with her husband in the Greek Islands; this day, this place even wasn’t about him. None of it was about him. She chose instead to gaze out at the remarkable scenery, taking in a green tinged ocean that floated clear to a boundless horizon.

Angel exhaled. “It is very nice – eh?”

“Are we getting out?” Kathy asked, imagining Angel had brought her there for reasons yet to be explored.

If it ever had been the case Angel had changed her mind sweeping hair back from her head, as if the consideration suddenly bored her. “Go if you like to explore. There are ruins nearby. I can wait here.”

Kathy didn’t trust that she would keep her word and remained in her seat.

“Italy – be good to me,” she murmured out of some inner contemplation.

Angel laughed. “Nothing is that easy. Me, I’m intending to become high maintenance.”

“Will it make you happy…?” Kathy asked curiously.

“I don’t know. What is happiness? Money makes me happy – lots of it. You, you are unhappy. Do you have money?”

“No,” she answered exasperated. “Why do you think I’m unhappy?”

Angel laughed. “You are. Don’t try to deny it.”

“I’m tragic – if that’s a way to describe it.”

Angel smiled. “You are lonely? New places, new experiences can do that. I know. I think sometimes I am too but I will not change.” She leaned forward over the steering wheel. “Before I came I had a horoscope cast – it said I would meet someone unexpected. I didn’t think it would be a woman. I don’t mean in that way….although…. When I was younger I had a serious crush on a novice. She had a beautiful smile. It didn’t come to anything.”

“Did you want it to?”

“Maybe. I was young. I had little knowledge of who…. what I was supposed to be. The way I was raised - to be like that was wrong, but at the time it felt very natural. Very organic. I had nothing to compare it to – there were no men in my life.”

Kathy listened, staring ahead through the windscreen. “And you don’t feel that way anymore?”

“No. Did you think I was gay? Sometimes I wish that I was – life would be considerably easier.”

“No, I didn’t think that.” Kathy shifted in the seat. “I just wondered why you told me?”

Angel shrugged. “Perhaps you have a kind face.”

“There’s a back handed compliment.”

Angel frowned, not understanding the phrase. “And you – what do you want?”

Kathy sighed. “I suppose I’d like to think things will work out for me. I’ve been married a long time and all this…. All this is complicated. I suppose what I’d like is a magic wand and a fresh start.”

“Don’t we all – but you can make it happen Kathy. Just make a little space for opportunity and it will happen. Get yourself laid while you’re about it.”

“I couldn’t do that. I’m too….”

“No you’re not. You’re rusty. You’re probably a bit dry. Find a boy – they’re everywhere. Anything in jeans – they appreciate older woman. They’ll do it in pairs if you let them.”

“God.”

Angel started the car, heading back down the road they had ascended but then pulled in at the kerb. Sprinting into a florists; returning with a bouquet of white roses. “I love them,” she remarked. “I saw the shop as we went up. They’re a bit of a boon for me – men give red roses. No one ever brings me white.”

They parted in the foyer with Kathy going to her room where she showered before changing into a white strapless dress. Her arms were becoming burned and she applied cream. During dinner she was joined by Clancy’s mother who belatedly thanked her for looking after her son, apologising if he had been too much of a handful. Later she sat alone on the terrace drinking Campari while staring up into a night sky filled with stars and turning over events in her head. It had been a strange day.

“Scusi Signora,” a voice beside her emitted and she met a young man’s dark eyes. “I was told to look for you here – to bring you this.”

It was a single white rose from which all the thorns had been clipped. She stared first at the rose and then at the young man. The rose gave off a very refined perfume as she raised it to her lips.

“And what else were you told?” She asked.

The young man appeared sheepish for a few seconds, but then grinned broadly.

“I have no other instructions Signora.”

She felt certain that he did, but then smiled. It was too early for this; far too easy to believe sex would solve anything. She sent the young man away, finishing her Campari before ordering another. Watching couples strolling together she realised she missed her husband, and despite everything, she knew she would return to the family home; just not yet. Not yet.

***

Over breakfast she looked for Angel but it appeared the girl didn’t eat, or certainly not at the hotel. She spotted a sulky faced Clancy leading his harassed mother towards the pool and decided instead to go for a walk around town. It was hot on the pavement but to compensate she stole in and out of the air-conditioned shops in an attempt to keep cool, caressing the racks but disinclined to buy. That is until she discovered the perfect bikini and offered up her Euro’s to a woman with a pinched expression who made a remark in Italian that came across more as a criticism than the kind of compliment she might have expected to receive at home. Outside, the air felt stifling and she went into a pavement café sitting inside at the back where it was cooler. Examining her fellow diners she discovered most were elderly, the men playing board games while the few women present chatted idly to pass the time. The café had an end of the world feel as she realised she was probably the youngest person in there by a good twenty odd years. She fingered the bikini, eager to return to the hotel to try it on in her room before wearing it poolside.

Angel waved as she descended the steps; once again the girl was practically naked but Kathy no longer minded.

“Hey, what you do Kathy – dirty girl. Didn’t I tell you boys are best?”

Kathy shielded her eyes against the bright light. “I sent him away. It was a lovely gesture Angel, but I’m not ready.”

Angel sighed as the top half wobbled. “It’s no good to be lonely when you can be naughty. What, your old man is gonna do - spy on you? Does he know you are here?”

“No one knows,” she acknowledged.

Angel allowed her head to fall back. “You and I are different people. No one owns me and never shall.”

Kathy said nothing, slipping out of the sarong to exhibit the new bikini but Angel wasn’t looking, and if she expected a compliment it would be hard won from a girl like Angel. She dived into the pool, swimming a leisurely length on her back; at the far end grasping the rail as she kicked her legs while resting her back against the tiled surface. Life was effortless, she was surmising. All this could be had whenever she wanted it – all she had to do was decide. There was little reason to endure upset and frustration just because it suited someone else to believe that was all she deserved. It wasn’t true. Angel was right, when she said she intended to live for herself. Maybe Kathy was indeed leaving her husband? Maybe Rimini was a little bit like an initiation ceremony? One in which the old Self was left behind as a new Kathy emerged butterfly like on the other side?

She flipped onto her back again, paddling to the far end where she emerged from the water feeling silky and sexy in the new bikini. This time she found Angel watching and felt pleased. There had been so little pleasure in her life; now she was determined there would be more.

“Is it new?” Angel asked. “The dye is running….”

Kathy glanced down at herself and laughed. She was coated in multicoloured streaks across her chest and down her thighs.

“What do I do?” Kathy asked helplessly.

“Take it off.” Angel responded glibly. “No one can see. Cover yourself with the sarong if you are shy.”

“But it’s see-through…”

Angel grinned. “Take a chance Kathy dear – it might even work in your favour.”

She felt uncomfortable at first removing the bikini, remaining with arms across her chest and legs wrapped around one another sinuously, feeling exposed except there was no one observing apart from Angel who simply grinned.

“Relax Kathy, we are both women. Do you dare?” Angel laughed, peeling off her briefs to dive full length into the pool. Kathy glanced about herself furtively before shuffling to the edge where she hesitated for several seconds simply observing before plunging in after Angel. Curiously as she did this she felt a complete lightness of spirit and little embarrassment to act so brazenly.

This was the new Kathy; the butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. A woman brand new and brilliant.