He looked so uncomfortable that Lisa almost felt sorry for him. “Sure,” she said, surprising herself. “And as I already said, it’s long forgotten, but I’ll take that drink.” Stella was at work, and she really felt like celebrating. Since she didn’t know anyone here, she figured she might as well take Manuel up on his offer.
“Seriously? You want to go for a drink with me?” Manuel’s eyes lit up, and he seemed just as pleasantly surprised as she was that they were actually going to hang out together. “Pit Stop okay for you?” He pointed to the cocktail bar across the road from the boulevard.
Lisa shrugged. “Why not?” She didn’t mention that she’d vouched to never set foot in the noisy and grotty bar because right then, she was in such a good mood that she had no problem with a cheap, sugary cocktail and rowdy clientele. “IsMr Ballinvited?”
“What? Who?” Manuel shot her a puzzled look.
Lisa pointed to his football. “Are you bringing the ball? Or are you throwing it back?”
Manuel laughed. “Oh, yes. I’d better bring it in case I forget to pick it up and they empty the bin in the morning. Wouldn’t be the first time.” He held out his arm and Lisa hooked hers through it. “Come on. I’m going to buy you the biggest, strongest drink they have on offer.”
43
“It’s quiet today, so I think I might head home early.” Stella helped herself to a coffee and sat down at the tiki bar. “In fact, I think I might sign off right now and enjoy the last of the sunlight.”
“You should. Days like this are rare.” Dave, the bartender on duty made a coffee too, then pulled out a stool for himself and joined her. “How’s that woman you’ve been seeing? I heard she moved in with you. Lisa, was it? She came to say goodbye before she left and gave me a tip. I thought that was very nice of her.”
“Word travels fast.” Stella laughed. “We’re good, thank you, and yes, she’s very nice. But it’s not like she’s permanently moved in with me; her life is in London.”
“Well, London isn’t that far.”
“No, that’s true.” Stella managed a smile. She didn’t like to think of Lisa’s looming departure, and it got harder with each day that passed. “We’ll see,” she said, trying to sound casual about it.
“Is that your phone behind the bar?” Dave asked, pointing to an iPhone that kept lighting up. “Looks like you have a ton of messages.”
“Yes, that’s mine, I put it on charge.” Stella took it and narrowed her eyes as she opened a selection of pictures, then burst out in laughter. “What the…”
“What’s so funny?”
“Lisa is at Pit Stop.”
“Hmm… She doesn’t seem like the kind of person to hang out there but maybe she’s just waiting for you to finish work or—”
“She’s there with Manuel,” Stella interrupted him with an amused smirk.
“What? Wait, let me see that.” Dave took her phone and chuckled. “Okay, this is seriously funny. Didn’t those two used to hate each other?” Immediately after a message came in. ‘Borrowed the hot girl for the night. Come join us!’It was followed by a wink emoji and then another picture of Lisa dancing. “Are you going over there?”
“Of course I’m going. After all the times she’s made fun of that bar, I have to see this for myself. Also, I can’t wait to hear what the hell she’s doing with Manuel.”
“I wish I could come.” Dave laughed.
Stella downed her coffee and patted his shoulder. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow, how’s that?” She went to the staffroom and swapped her Paradise polo shirt for a vest top but kept her work shorts on. Checking herself in the mirror, she wished she’d brought something nicer to wear, then decided she looked fine for the occasion. It was only Pit Stop after all, and she couldn’t for the life of her imagine what Lisa was doing there with Manuel of all people.
The early night was balmy as she crossed the main road, the many bars along the strip already crowded. She vaguely recognised a couple of the hotel’s guests and waved at them. It was noisy there, the different venues fighting with each other on volume, all playing different styles of music. There were a couple of English pubs where they played eighties and nineties hits, a karaoke bar where the patrons as well as the presenter—who sang medleys in between performances—generally had very little talent. The Mexican restaurant played mariachi music and the Dutch place next door had the same playlist of traditional Dutch songs on repeat all day. When she’d first moved here, she’d lived behind the strip, and it was even noisier there, so she’d spent years looking for the perfect tranquil spot to make her home. Buying her house in Altea had been the best move she’d ever made, and she counted herself lucky to have a quiet place to come home to at night after a long day’s work. She didn’t come here very often anymore apart from the occasional staff night out, but it was still entertaining to observe the happy holiday makers, all in their element and excited for a night of cheesy fun.
There were a couple of hen parties; the women all wearing matching pink feather boas or T-shirts with ‘bride’ and ‘bridesmaid’ printed on them, and a group of a dozen or so men on the terrace of the Mexican restaurant were dressed up as carrots. Stella had no idea what that was about, but she was amused by the streaks of orange face paint dripping down their necks as the padded fancy dress suits and green head pieces were way too warm for the Spanish summer.
She passed a Spanish restaurant, which was far from Spanish in her opinion. They served big plates of paella—the consistency more like risotto—and enormous jugs of sangria with sour freezer fruit. After that were a couple of shops that sold cheap tat, inflatables and souvenirs, a bar called ‘1 Euro Beer’,a cabaret bar with a sign that announced the Michael Bublé impersonator who would perform there tonight, and a pizzeria with chequered white and red tablecloths and singing waiting staff.
And then there was Pit Stop, possibly the most unappealing of all. With its huge terrace, flashing neon signs, blue guaranteed headache cocktails and loud music, it wasn’t somewhere she’d willingly go but the sight of Lisa dancing put a huge smile on her face. Stella stood there for a while, observing her. She looked so carefree and happy, so very different to when she’d just arrived. Dancing with Manuel and another woman Stella didn’t know, they were singing along to the Spice Girls, and Lisa’s long blonde hair was flailing around her as she moved. When she spotted Stella, her full lips pulled into a beaming smile, and she ran up to her.
“Seriously. You two?” Stella burst out in laughter when Manuel joined them. “I got your messages.” She held up her phone.
“Come have a drink with us!” Lisa flew around her neck and grinned sheepishly. “We’re having…” She frowned as she stared at her almost empty bulb glass that contained something white and foamy, then took out the umbrella and stuck it behind Stella’s ear. “I don’t actually remember what it’s called but it’s got coconut in it. Not real coconut of course,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Just flavoured powder. The first one was horrible but I’m on my fourth now and they’re definitely growing on me. Want one?”
“Why not?” Stella gave her a kiss, amused at Lisa’s bouncy energy. “But letmeget them.” She pointed to Lisa’s bare feet that were dirty all the way up to her ankles. “Babe, where are your shoes?” It was funny, to say the least. Lisa of all people had embraced the Benidorm lifestyle she hated with a passion in a bar she hated with a passion and was partying with someone she never got along with.
Lisa glanced down and wiggled her toes. “My feet hurt, so I took them off.”
