Holiday
The sea was steady and peaceful. I hate it.
Her moaning and his deep grunts created a beat for the tuneless top line of the squeaking bed. I tried to concentrate on the sound of lapping waves oozing onto the beach, but they faded into murmurs, overwhelmed by the slapping sound of two bodies colliding with one another.
The slapping and moaning stopped. He asked me whether I was alright.
‘I’m fine.’
He leaned forward and his lips closed into mine.
I turned my head away from him and looked out of the window.
The slapping sound didn’t continue, nor did the moaning.
‘I’m tired,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
***
I lay there on the king-size hotel bed with him and her. One of his arms wrapped around me; the other wrapped around her.
I looked out of the window. The quietness of the dark sea bothered me.
I lifted his arm off me and slid out of bed.
I opened the door towards the balcony and walked out of the room.
The waves slithered snake-like, whispering sweet nothings that failed to ease the rumbling inside my head.
‘Are you okay?’ I heard his voice.
I inhaled a lungful of salt-laced air.
‘I’m fine. It’s just a bit stuffy in there.’
He came to my side, the heat of his naked body radiating against my shoulder.
‘Just go back to bed. I will be there in a minute.’
I kept my eyes straight toward the dark and quiet sea.
He refused to leave me alone.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked again.
‘I’m fine. Don’t worry.’
His legs and bare feet stayed put, shivering through the tickles of the breeze.
I leaned forward against the railings of the balcony. He stepped towards me and gripped my shoulder with his huge hand, his fingers biting into my skin.
I pushed his hand away and rubbed at the reddened spot that bore the shape of his fingers.
‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to do it.’
I finally looked up and into his almond-coloured eyes where only the reflection of my face was seen among them, and no one else…I sighed.
‘Okay…Let’s go to bed.’
An expression of relief spread across his face after I said that.
I walked back to the bed where he climbed in and she was sound asleep, wheezing.
It’s too quiet.
***
I could hear the whistle and pop of the radiator. The shuffling sound of someone’s feet. The occasional murmur drifted from somewhere up ahead. And that was it. The room we were in had too much space and few sounds to fill it. So, I picked up my AirPods and my phone from the bedside table.
I opened the Apple Music app and my fingers tapped on the keyboard: O-R-C-H-E-S-T-R-A (space) P-L-A-Y-L-I-S-T
I pressed the play button. The words Jenkins’ Concerto Grosso for Strings “Palladio” appeared on the screen, and the deep, syncopated sound of a cello flooded my ears.
The violas weaved their way in, quicker in tempo, when I slid the key card from the bedside table into my trousers’ pocket and headed towards my shoes.
‘Why are you not coming to bed?’ he said.
I turned up the volume so that the harsh, high-pitched sound of the violins coming in could be more audible.
‘Just wanna go out for a walk. Don’t worry. Just go back to sleep.’
I saw his lips moving but the sound they made was indistinguishable from the music, so his words faded into the dim light of the room.
‘I’m fine. Don’t worry.’
I opened the door and left.
***
An intense tune was playing as I marched down the stairs. Each of my steps was accompanied by a short and clean glide of the bow across the strings of a cello. I felt like I was part of Scottie’s nightmare in Vertigo, confused by the red flashing lights and my mind falling into the huge black-and-white vortex. I reached the hotel lobby right when the orchestral piece ended with a wistful violin solo.
There was no one in the lobby except an old lady in a formal dress, laying on a sofa, fast asleep.
I sat down on an armchair next to the hotel’s restaurant where he had made another reservation for a table of three. A memory floating to the surface of my head as airy notes blew out of a flute. Cécile Chaminade's Flute Concertino in D major, Op. 107 was the name shown on the screen.
Three of us, putting down our utensils simultaneously and directing our heads towards the orange sky, had discussed what we thought of the clouds during dinner. The shape, the animals or the objects they resembled. Three of us, doing something that was supposed to stay between the two of us, him and me.
‘There you are.’ A male voice slipped through the flute's brief absence and the violins' soft plucking in the background.
An old man in his black suit kissed the old lady on her forehead to wake her up. He extended both of his arms, pulling her up gently from the sofa. And the two of them, clinging closely to one another, paced towards the hotel’s exit where a taxi was waiting for them. I kept my gaze on the old couple, the tenderness of the tune in my ears echoing the beautiful scene. The sound of the flute was like a bird tweeting, in a rather excitable staccato, until it got interrupted by a loud buzz and a WhatsApp audio call request from him.
I heard footsteps above me and looked up to find him coming down the stairs.
It’s too quiet here.
I quickly moved my thumb from right to left to stop my phone from buzzing and to allow the music to resume. Then, I stood up and moved towards the exit of the hotel.
***
There were no city noises. No engine sounds of cars zooming by. No police sirens chasing after. No pop music blasting in nightclubs and pubs. No chattering, shouting and gagging sounds of drunken people. Just me…and him, who came running after me, on the vast empty brick road next to a calm sea.
The words William Tell: Overture popped on my mobile screen. A minor key melody wormed its way into my head as I paced along the brick road.
The first movement of the piece was in a moderate tempo, with the cellos delivering the top line and the basses echoing the melody like its shadow. The third time the basses joined in was the moment he caught up with me. I kept my head down and walked on, watching his shadow follow me.
The timpani would occasionally arise, sounding like a thunder rumble, and whenever they did, I halted my footsteps for a second and glanced back at him. And afterwards, I would continue to walk again.
The opening bars of the second movement floated up into the hushed air. Like flies buzzing in my ear, disappearing when I tried to hit them and reappearing when I thought they were gone.
‘It’s like a dream come true for me. To have both of you in my arms.’ he spoke to break the awkward silence between us. ‘My two girls…’
The timpani chimed in when he said, ‘My two girls’. It sounded like a dog’s growl. There was a gradual increase in the loudness and intensity that was supported by bass drums, bassoons, trombones and horns as he continued to speak.
‘That’s what I’ve always wanted,’ he said.
The tempo of the music was picking up.
‘To be in a polyamorous relationship,’ he said.
The growls eventually turned into barks.
I climbed up a concrete ledge along the road when the violins frantically sawed away at their strings, sounding like nails screeching on a chalkboard.
‘I was scared you wouldn’t accept this part of me so I lied and didn’t tell you about her...and the other girls.’ he said.
The sound of the drums was thumping. The bass was pounding. A volcano had erupted and a storm had churned through my ears as I looked down at him and grinned.
‘It’s fine.’
He appeared so tiny and fragile from this new perspective. Perhaps, this was how he viewed me all along. From high above there, looking down at me, this tiny, fragile girl whom he could easily manipulate and persuade.
He didn’t respond right away. He looked up at me with sorrowful eyes and was in omniscient silence for a certain amount of time during which the third movement of the piece crept in. It opened with a slow but cheerful melody played by a flute and later supported by clarinets and bassoons. It sounded as if rain was softly tap-dancing on the roof of a garden shed which inspired me to skip backwards on the concrete ledge. My heart synchronised with the steady and peaceful sea for the first time since arriving there. It’s fine…it’s fine…I’m fine…
‘You have been so calm since this afternoon.’ He finally found his voice back when I reached the end of the concrete ledge. ‘And she was such a drama queen, crying and complaining.’
The trumpets announced their entrance after he uttered the term, ‘drama queen’. The tempo of the music accelerated again as it moved towards the last movement of the piece.
A familiar tune rushed into my ears. A tune constantly playing during horse races.
‘But now you are the one being so dramatic!’ He raised his voice a bit. ‘Coming out here in the middle of the night. Refusing to go back…’
The rhythmic beating of the timpani reverberated in my ears after he had uttered the word ‘dramatic’, signalling the start of the horse race.
‘Why? I thought you were okay with this, okay with her being here with us!’ His voice winded through the percussion.
The lower strings and the timpani played in unison, urging my heartbeat to catch up with the horses running through my brain.
‘She said she could leave if you feel uncomfortable. She said she could take a taxi. She said…’
The sounds of a horse galloping intensified by the clashing of the cymbals whenever he repeated ‘She said’. And 8 times that the cymbals had clashed against each other…
‘Stop being passive-aggressive! I’m tired and cold!’ he said. ‘You agreed to it! And that’s why she came!’
‘I agreed because…’
The music was reaching its climax…William Tell: Overture was near its end!
‘Because of what?’ he asked.
The finishing line was right before the horses’ eyes!
‘BECAUSE- ’All of a sudden, ‘Biu…’, my AirPods ran out of battery, cutting the final, defiant chord.
‘Please…I don’t want to lose you…’ I heard his soft mumble.
My shoulders slumped and I exhaled a long breath before I outstretched my arms, wrapping both of them around his waist and leaning my head against his chest. The rapid pounding of a heartbeat. Sounding like two mallets hitting either side of a bass drum. The scene where he and I were embracing tightly under snow last December rushed in, reminding me how I fell for him in the first place.
‘It’s fine. Let’s go back.’
***
‘How are you feeling? Do you want me to leave? I can leave.’ I heard her voice the moment I stepped into the room.
‘It’s fine. Please stay. It’s too late to leave now.’ I answered. The tone of my voice was like the sea, steady and peaceful.
***
I was back on the bed with him…and her.
He turned towards me, wrapping both arms around me, pulling me close against his chest, as if I would slip away from his grasp at any moment.
‘Don’t leave me.’ he whispered into my ears.
‘I can’t.’
I shut my eyes, clinging onto both of his arms, imagining that only he and I were on that bed, no one else, and she was never there.
The sea remained steady and peaceful. I’m fine…I’m fine…I’m fine…