A:The Reunion(Guilty Embrace)

THE REUNION (GUILTY EMBRACE)


The hotel room was cavernous, opulent an unnecessary
indulgence; in darkness it looked from the tenth floor out into the
Caribbean night, a night hooded like a spectre over a black haunted
sea. Romantic? To some maybe but this wasn't his mood it never was. On
the bed asleep was a naked beautiful Dominican, a local girl who was
twenty one today, today they'd married, dined, got drunk, fought, got
very drunk, made love and he'd slapped her hard across the face and
what did she say? "Usted me da una palmada otra vez usted cerdo ingl?s,
y rebanar? de sus bolas y las empujar? encima de su arse." And then
they made up, laughed and made love again, she'd squeezed his testicles
ever so slightly just to remind him what she could do, then she
caressed them, stroking them gently to show him what she wanted to do.
Even with intimacy he had to have that element of competitive
confrontation.


But doubt scratched away like a cat's food hungry paw in the
belly of his mind. Phillip Carlisle was melancholy, he sat naked in the
chair surrounded by the debris of a feast of another over indulgence,
reflecting on what might have been, had been, what had become recently
and what might be.


Daytime masked a truth the night couldn't, Insomnia was
bringing home truths more frequently now, his resistance had been worn
down so he now began to listen to the voices that he thought he'd
locked away in the deep recesses of his mind, nothing worse than being
told home truths by your own self and being unable to escape, you can't
make excuses and leave the room. He was a bad man and had done many
selfish cruel things and now he wondered why, life could have been
wonderful but instead he had chosen differently and so he had this. Was
it worth all this?


When he was young perhaps twenty, sitting in a bar in a
small university town he'd told his friends, " Chaps we've got fifty
years of living, we're only young once lets make sure we don't waste
any of it not living or at least give it our best shot, in fact let
that be our sacred pledge to live life to the full, now charge your
glasses and I'll make the toast, then we'll let everybody know that
we've arrived and that we're here to stay." And maybe in the room that
night there were twelve young men who raised their glasses and cheered
and for a while everybody in the tiny University town knew they were
there, and plans were made to return every year for reunion, to rejoice
and keep to the pledge.


Now he was one hundred days past fifty, he logged each day,
each hour and each minute, fifty years of living what a stupid thing to
say, if you were unlucky it was going to be fifty years of dieing
slowly miserably, you had to do your best to make it interesting,
'fifty years of dieing, and waiting for it happen in the most
interesting of ways,' that would be a good book, only it was unlikely
you'd get full value. His last five years were just an empty
existence.


He lit and took one huge draw on a banished cigar, inhaled a
dreamy contemptuous gulp of the toxins his doctor had told him were
killing him, then he stood and walked naked to the balcony, there in
all his pasty, paunchy sun starved glory looking out onto a
mysteriously lazy deceptive dangerous sea. Sounds from the exotic
forests in the hills to the east, sounds that were unique to the
Caribbean resonated in the air, reverberating a rhythmic hypnotic beat
that rekindled dead souls. He sipped from a glass that contained
another outlawed poison and smiled, recollected, his mind set sail
entranced by the tempo of the songs of the dead, sounds that were
centuries old.


Today he'd telephoned home to tell and annoy his older sister
of the matrimonial news, to tell her that a cheap Hispanic street tramp
was now her latest sister-in-law, to stifle a schoolboy giggle as this
news penetrated the icy defences of his sister's outer walls of
controlled civility, to strangle a guffaw as he sensed her inner fury
burning furnace hot, blasting to escape through the heavy doors of her
almost regimented decorum. But that didn't happen did
it?


"Hello, Pen," he began cheerily; she hated having her name
abbreviated in this common fashion.


"Phillip is that you Phillip? It's uncanny, God I've been
trying to contact you for over a week, where are you?" Her voice
quivered with emotion, she wasn't completely in control, and this was
unique. And because of this he knew something was
wrong.


"Why what's the matter Penelope? Is there bad news?" her
breathing was heavy as she fought to regain composure, it took several
eternal seconds before she could deliver the news.


"Phillip, you're the only one left now," she paused again
these six words were all he would need to know, "I'm so very, very
sorry." Good old Pen, not another glimpse of emotion for the rest of
her message, her self-training was immaculate.


He was indeed the last of those twelve young bucks from
thirty years ago, the other eleven now all finally gone. His sister now
solemn and restrained told him that the four remaining pals from the
pact had died. The McKenderick twins Peter and John had died on
Christmas Eve, in separable in life and death they'd set out on a
reconnaissance mission to replenish the booze at a family get together,
only to expire as the car came off second best with an oncoming H.G.V,
ironically full to the brim of 'Sheraton's finest Ales.' Guy Samuels
died of heart attack whilst using the rowing machine at his local gym,
ironically he was training to row for charity, a charity promoting the
danger of heart disease. Finally a suicide from a man seemingly in
control Alex Sanderson, a Psychiatrist who helped others rebuild their
lives while quietly and unknown to others, his own fell apart. All four
dead within two weeks, only he would now be available for thirtieth
reunion.


A pledge to celebrate and to enjoy life to the full had
turned out in fact to be a pact of ruin; his smile was bittersweet as
it all came home what the fruits were of this thirty-year debacle.
Twenty-three marriages and was it twelve divorce's? Thirty-five
children? Well known at least, the number of mistresses, well he had
perhaps eleven in and around his previous three marriages the other
guys were coy on this matter. He had one child from his first marriage,
now a twenty-two year old daughter called Corsica, she was somewhere on
the planet and to be honest whether she thought of him frequently or
not at all he cared not. The dust from this pact had now settled, in
the rubble the other eleven were now dead, two suicides, a murder, the
accident, and also the dreaded C taking a few, heart disease a few
others. And don't forget there was Bruce Findlay who had gone missing
while hiking somewhere in Northern Australia a month after the first
reunion.


Heavy drum beats now echoed far off to the east, a pulsating
sultry timbre married in with distant voices, chanting and shouting
producing a crescendo of deafening sound even at this distance, Phillip
wondered just what the natives were bringing back to life tonight, yet
nothing stirred in the hotel or town despite this noise, the locals and
tourists obliviously immune to this mystifying cacophony that charged
the air with an exciting electricity.


The sounds of the dead suddenly stopped with an abruptness
that caused Phillip to shudder back from a dream, a lone chill tickled
his spine causing him to spin around to face nothing, he peered
anxiously into his black hotel room but nothing stared back or
motioned, breathing heavily and slightly shaken he still felt that
something was around and that something had cooled the air, maybe a
floating spirit just passing by and admiring the naked form of his new
wife, or maybe it was just a solitary naive breeze trying to escape
this dormant heavy life sapping heat?


Suddenly a voice called from behind, a shout, and it was
calling his name, he returned to the balcony and peered over and down.
There by the floodlit hotel pool were a group of men he couldn't make
out (he was in denial about his need for spectacles) calling to him.
Were there a dozen? Yet it was his name was being called? He waved and
then shrugged bemused, "What is this?" he spoke out loud. Partygoers
he'd met in a drunken haze earlier in the week perhaps? " You're up a
bit late for swimming, aren't you chaps?" he called down jovially, the
blur's responded by continuing to beckon him down, he smiled the nights
had long gone for causing havoc with hotel pools, he frowned and again
shrugged playfully, sweeping the flat of his hand from left to right
palm down. " Sorry chaps, I had to give that kind of thing up long
ago," he whispered dejectedly to himself.


There was now a definite chill in the air and the welcome
thought of snuggling up to his new wife was now suddenly very
appealing, he turned to walk back but may as well tried to walk through
a wall, a figure back in the darkness now did look back, frozen rigid
with fear Phillip naked, alone and cold felt something he never
experienced before in fifty years? vulnerable.


"Hello Phil, how the Devil are you mate, on this beautiful,
hot and lusty night?" Came a voice from the past, easy as a light
breeze yet it was unnatural because it should no longer have existed.
He hesitated, his breathing stopped momentarily as his mind struggled
to evaluate.


"It can't be," he mumbled, he recognised this voice it was a
voice that belonged to man who went missing twenty-nine years ago."
Bruce Fin?dlay?" He stammered.


"Fuck! You got it in one mate, cripes well I lost that bet
didn't I? The lads said you would recognise me and I said no way chaps,
twenty-nine years? How the bloody hell do you expect Phillip Carlisle
to remember anything from twenty-nine years ago, when all that goes
through Phillip Carlisle's head???..is Phillip?. Bloody???. Carlisle?"
The voice was angry it was veneered by a layer sociability but still
there was anger there, and not of this world and yet it was the voice
of his former friend, but how could it be? So still he refused to
believe.


"Look I don't know or want to know who you are, but I know
you're not Bruce and whatever this smokescreen is the grand design for,
it isn't going to work I can assure you, look take my advice, you have
moments sir to make your escape, then I call security."


The figure still shadowed in the dark, seemed to hover on the
spot, Phillip began to think he was talking to a trick of the light;
perhaps the drink had taken more than his physical well being it was
now tampering with his mind. It chuckled quietly, a little menacingly
even.


" No Phil I'm not a pink elephant babe, I'm a message on a
mission, don't waste your time messing about old chum, because I know
all the tricks and all the answers, do yourself a favour just listen,
and my advice is to behave because there are ten more just like me,
some more anxious to pick your bones than me."


He foolishly ignored this and made a dart for the bedroom,
but something threw him backwards tumbling onto the cold balcony floor,
sliding hard into the wall, he groaned as his back and hip smacked on
the hard floor, he grimaced with pain, clenching his fists and looking
up angrily. " Who the fuck are you?"


" Phil darling I can't make it any clearer, look if you do
silly things like that I'll have to get really scary and mean. I'm
Bruce for fuck sake, I could make you float babe or spin you like a
top, but I've always hated gimmicks, I could come out of the shadow
into the light, but that would really fuck you up and I don't want to
do that unless I have to, I mean you'd literally shit on floor? because
you haven't got your pants on darling, and being naked in your shape
Phil?really is enough public indignity for one night."


Neither spoke for a moment nor moved, the poltergeist or
whatever hovered in the shadow waiting for words or action from
Phillip, he sat on the floor embarrassed and cold pondering this
reality, the thing before him just might actually be
Bruce.


" If you are Bruce, and I don't believe for one
min?"


"Test me then Phil, test me," it interrupted, " be quick
though, there are ten other blokes who aren't exactly
patient."


"You can re."


"Yes Philly I can read your mind? when and if I want to, I
know all the questions and all the answers, like I said I know all the
tricks and all the solutions, your mind by the way isn't the most
pleasant of reading, I'm ashamed of you Phil?the other guys are more
than ashamed they're pissed at you Phil pissed at you big time, they
can see everything I can see, they can see that Phillip Carlisle didn't
just spend thirty years screwing every piece of skirt available? he
spent those years screwing his friends too, behind their backs and now
they want a chance to get their payback."


"But they're all dead, and you aren't Bruce because he's dead
too."


"True, too bloody true mate, but we're back now Phil and back
with a bullet, and the bullet has your name on it me old mucker. Now do
you want to test me before I explain the deal? If of course you still
refuse to be convinced, we can show you real tricks and one the lads
will explain plan B?you don't want hear plan B Phil, not that plan A is
anything to write home about if you've got holidays
planned."


What did he mean by 'deal,' if what he was saying was true,
then down by the pool were ten former friends who had every right to
want to kill him, he if he was Bruce also had every right to be
vengeful, " If you are who say you are, and you can do what say you
can, you'll know I did something thirty years ago that I now regret
deeply."


"I bet you do pal?now you're beginning to believe, but I
don't hold a grudge because you screwed my girl Felicity behind my
back, I suspect you were one of many?it's the chain of events Phil
that's eaten me for thirty years, you bang her, she leaves me for
someone unknown, I despondent begin a lone trek around the world to
find myself, and then ten miles outside Brisbane's suburbs my maker
finds me in the shape of five woolly backs who don't like anybody
especially a Brit on their patch, so at twenty two I kiss the world
goodbye? so you see my maybe perverse thinking is if you hadn't poked
Felicity then, I wouldn't have ended up in Australia and I wouldn't
be?..DEAD FUCK YOU?Sorry I shouldn't shout I might wake the dead, ha,
ha."



He was stunned but continued to struggle to comprehend, "This can't be
happening, this is a dream surely?" The figure suddenly danced forward
slightly, quickly into the moonlight and then back into the shadow
offering only the merest glimpse, a glance of the thing that was Bruce
or the remains of what was Bruce's mauled face was enough to make him
gasp in terror and pee on the floor and over himself.


"Did a nice job didn't they Phil, left me there totally
broken with a half a face they did?. alive for six hours in the sun,
lots of little beastie's to get acquainted with and some not so little,
I spent the first two praying for help and then the next two praying
for death, and the last two thinking of us the group and all the things
we were going to do. Six hours dieing in the Queensland sun, it's one
of the most interesting ways to die and I should know I've asked a few
since believe me."


"So what is it you want?" He shook with out control,
distraught, he felt like he was pinned in a corner like a wretched
animal about to be executed. "What is it I've got to do Bruce, what can
the dead possibly want with me?"


For a moment again nothing was said. "Good Boy Phil, sorry
about the revealing there but you were being difficult and it was for
your benefit sort of." There was silence again as the spectre appeared
to contemplate, " Just chatting with the guys there Phil and the bottom
line is you have the choice of being selfish and dieing or wait for it,
you can sacrifice yourself, that's what the dead want with you to
answer your question."


He shook his head bemused, "Look I don't understand, you're
talking in riddles, you say my options are to die selfishly or to die
with some kind of honour? I want an option where I don't have to
die."


The figure moved forward onto the balcony, Phillip wheezed
trying hard to catch his breath, but this time it was Bruce from the
last time he'd seen him in full bloom thirty years ago, without doubt
Bruce was a beautifully toned if a rather dull athletic golden boy in
his prime, this appearance was even more frightening than his first
guise. "Steady sweetie we don't want you popping your clogs? well you
know what I mean." Phillip gradually regained composure, his chest
lifting and falling as his throat in spasm fought for air to feed his
lungs. " The clever things you can do Phil when you're dead, you'll
have great fun for a while," he smaned, "but I digress, because it
looks like I need to explain the subtle differences of?err?I think
we'll call them plan A and plan B shall we, yes keep it
simple.


Bruce sidled over and sat next to him, there was fake
sympathy in his eyes " There's not an option where you don't die Phil,
I mean don't be silly, 'No one gets out of here alive,' I'll explain
plan B shall I?and that's the favourite with the boys by the way. Where
to begin, to begin? Well it's like this you carry on and live out your
natural old boy, drinking, smoking, eating and screwing to your usual
selfish excess?obviously this alone will take it's toll sometime in the
future?ten, fifteen years who knows," he laughed sarcastically, " but
with plan B each one of us can take another part of you, those closest
and dearest to you are going to drop off the great mortal coil slowly
but surely one by one, each death will be like a step on a stair case
leading up to you, it will interesting to watch Phil. We'll start off
gently with Auntie Pam, she's eighty two? bless her, but it quickly
turns nasty after that alas, and before you know it your brother's
youngest son is falling down a ravine or the victim of a violent
mugging who knows what we'll think up, we might go for an ex-wife next,
she might be found in a hotel somewhere strangled by her own drug
induced vomit, then we get to the siblings, sister Penelope did you
know she had a dodgy ticker Phil, well we do and we're good at
exploiting things like that as you can imagine. Do you get the drift
now?" He smirked.


Bruce was always an outsider, his role in the group was as a
'water carrier' he added to the numbers that was all, he never
instigated ideas, he was a peripheral player always on the edge of the
action, no one listened to him because he had nothing interesting to
say, but now he was relishing the chance of a role in the limelight, a
broker for this so called deal. Phillip had assessed recently that he
himself was without redemption; he cared nothing for those who
surrounded him, he'd betray them in an instant with no notion of guilt,
but although sleepless nights brought home this realisation it didn't
or hadn't changed him yet. This Bruce had demonstrated nothing could be
hidden, so he knew Phil didn't give a jot about those he'd mentioned,
well he did but when it came down them or him only one person mattered,
so there had to be something else.


"We both know there is catch to this, because deep down there
is no one on the planet I'd save before me, even though I'm aiding my
own demise?reality is I'm afraid of death. Tell me what the catch is
Bruce, because plan b sounds too good to be true?
considering."


He laughed. "You're beginning to think like us already, I
like that." He continued to smile, but this was sympathetic, his eyes
were sad, "Phil I hope you don't let me down and choose plan B when I
tell you this." He paused; the enormity of what had to be said was too
much even for a ghost maybe, " Phil I'm dead and I'm supposed to scare
you, but no one else alive has the potential to scare the dead like
you, you're the only one I know who makes me dread telling you what I
have to?."


"And that is?"


"Plan B involves your daughter Phil, it's where I drew the
line, and up until her being part of the scheme I was supporting plan
B. And because of her Phil not you, I for the first time in life and
death came up with a good idea, something that everybody listened to.
Plan A and it maybe be second choice but I have to call and sell it as
Plan A because it's your best option and because even revengeful ghosts
have a heart. If it wasn't for me plan B would be underway right now
without you knowing, luckily your daughter is going to give you a
chance to choose and maybe redeem yourself."


Phil looked incredulously at this guardian angel? Barely able
to contain his laughter, if there was a human on the face of the earth
he was more indifferent about, he couldn't think who it was. "My
daughter Bruce?well I hate to tell you this old son, I'm surprised you
don't know, bu.."


" You're daughter means nothing to you Phil, I know, we know,
WHO doesn't know that who knows you? When you're rejected you hit back
with double the scorn, no Phil it isn't Corsica who is on the list,
it's the Grandson she's carrying, and your Grandson is, I'm afraid on
the list."


He looked into his friend's eyes, a ghost that felt sorrow?
Yes it was genuine this time, but the gaze also held fear that Phil
might opt for the dreadful, could he be that ruthless? His head slumped
against the balcony wall he was numb, defeated he looked away into
space, spoken words very rarely hit as hard as this, his little baby
girl no more than Twenty two, was somewhere a million miles away
sleeping safely unaware that her baby boy's fate was lying in the palm
of a callous bastard of a father and grandfather.


"I'm going to be a grandfather? Well, well," he sighed. "I
never thought that would be?does she know about it Bruce?that she's
pregnant?"


" No, not for another week." There was a pause as Bruce let
Phillip digest this, "little Phil, yes little Phillip will be born with
a heart defect, a heart defect that will not be detected, because like
I say we know all the tricks and because it won't be detected he will
be running across a field near his home in ten years time, he will
suddenly fall and a mother will laugh thinking he's fooling, then a
mother will rush to his side and scream when she looks into his dead
blue eyes, she'll cry as she strokes and kisses the blue skin of her
little soldiers face. He will be eleventh death and as with the
previous ten when one of the living goes, one of us will return to
where the dead go too. The cruellest part of this is that the news of
your grandson's death would be the first time you would have become
aware that he even existed.


"The clever things you can do when you're dead," he mused
sadly, " and yes that would be so very, very cruel."


"I know I thought I'd already said that." He
laughed.


"Oh yes so you did," replied Phillip, his gaze then focused
ahead on an imaginary fixed point, he was searching for something,
something within a thing that might not even exist? after a few moments
he smiled, "you will teach me all those clever things that you can do
won't you, or does it all come naturally with the
patch?"


"There is always something new to learn Phil, you'll be kept
busy, you'll get to know all the answers to questions and mysteries
that bugged you for a lifetime, for instance?"


"I'll find out later Bruce if you don't mind I mean there's
going to be plenty of time isn't there? Now you mentioned plan A, the
sacrifice thing?is it going to hurt, I mean I never did like pain, say
it won't hurt."


"Don't worry mate, plan A won't hurt a bit, you won't feel a
bloody thing I promise, it won't hurt anybody, no one will even cry for
you Phillip, no one will even cry. I'll just explain it shall
I?"



Arturo Miguel Ernesto Vasquez had sloped up from the beach drunkenly,
he worked as a waiter mainly in the hotel restaurant but he had to
flexible. Tips the things that gave his wages credibility had been
excellent today, lots of rich and very merry Europeans had arrived
desperate to lose copious amounts of cash, some tips were willing some
not so if you see what I mean. Arturo was mainly honest and decent man
but he was also streetwise, where he came from the offer of free
samples could not be ignored, the skill was not to be too greedy with a
purse in an open bag or a wallet left behind on a table, yes the skill
was to take just one note and hand it in like a man who was in the main
honest.


An hour after he handed in today's wallet Eduardo his
supervisor called him into the office, Eduardo had made his way up
through the ranks, he'd worked the tables, he knew the tricks and he
knew how essential it was for his staff to utilise these opportunities
to just basically live. Arturo walked into the office and for a moment
his heart sank, Eduardo and another gentleman looked sternly at him,
his number was up.


"Ah Arturo, come in this gentleman would like a word with
you." Arturo grimaced inwardly outwardly trying put on a face of a
confused local simpleton. "Mr Haussmann wants to thank you Arturo, for
returning his wallet." Both Eduardo and Mr Haussmann now smiled
warmly.


Mr Haussmann handed over an identical bill to the one Arturo
had pocketed an hour or so earlier as a reward for his honesty, despite
protests and polite attempts to decline the reward the money was
pocketed. Arturo and Eduardo exchanged knowing looks and raised
eyebrows as Arturo left the office. With money like this a rarity it
was always prudent to save, but then Arturo just happened to bump into
a young lady called Veronique from Martinique and saving money was now
a distant thought, tips were easy come easy go as they say. A night of
wine, and love on a picturesque beach were planned. He'd been woken by
the voodoo chants rumbling down from the hills, it had been a night of
wine, no love and now empty pockets, he was wasn't that drunk to
realise that the lady from Martinique had been slick with her fingers,
he cursed her and wished her a speedy death.


His squat chunky figure ambled stumbling into the pool area;
the main thing now on his mind was the dilemma of whether he should
feign illness and call in sick tomorrow or today rather and risk
sacking- his excuse inventory was also running a little thin- or should
he try and find somewhere to sleep for three hours and try and brave
out another ten hour shift. It was still very warm so if he could find
somewhere to sleep now even outside he might just survive, being
unshaven and his crumpled hotel uniform would be problems to be solved
later. Several rooms on the base floor were unoccupied; if Marianne one
of the cleaners was about she might help sequester a key to one of
these rooms, she might also tidy up his uniform and tuck him in, he
giggled at this thought still tipsy, as he levelled with the pool it
was in the balance, sleep here or go home and call in sick, for some
reason at that moment he looked up.


"OOOOH, YA, YA, YA," his stomach clenched, it was too
vulnerable and delicate for what he saw.


There is a saying that you attribute to a greedy youngster
who can't empty his plate of food, 'Your eyes were too big for your
belly sonny,' the sight of a naked Man well past his prime perched on
the edge of a balcony was going to be too much for Arturo's stomach but
his eyes couldn't help digesting this scene. The man appeared to be
about to attempt a one hundred length foot jump into the hotel pool,
"Jeez man,'" Arturo shook his head in disbelief.


There was an American-coloured fellow, who'd jumped to the
moon back in 1968 in Mexico, but he was in his prime, and this jump was
to Jupiter, this man here was talking to himself or to someone? down by
the pool? Arturo squinted to see if he'd missed something by the pool
but there was nothing, perhaps it was a caper another drunken Yankee
screwing with the locals in more than one way.


"Hey mister," he called "be careful, you might fall." He
shouted this up louder, but this man was oblivious to this and anything
but his own world, he crouched to spring.



"It's beautiful Bruce, it really is beautiful mate." They stood naked
in their prime at the top of a waterfall overlooking a dreamscape
lagoon, in sapphire clear blue water at the bottom beautiful young men
in their prime looked up, beckoning them down.


"Listen Phil, I'm going to jump you just follow when you're
ready."


"Look at me Bruce, I mean look at me I'm beautiful too mate,
you've given me back everything." He let out one of his famous Phil
Carlisle raw laughs, "is this paradise or what?"


"This is the other side Phil, you just follow me ok? The guys
are really looking forward to this reunion." There was an anxious edge
to his voice.


He frowned slightly, "Bruce do you think they'll forgive me?"
he looked down again "It's a long way to fall if you're not welcome at
the bottom, I feel so guilty about what I've done to them really I
do."


"Don't worry they can't wait to embrace you again, for some
of them it's been a long, long time and as they say time is a healer,
one last thing Phil if I was mean and weird earlier on I apologise,
it's just I'm not usually the guy that delivers, I guess I might have
been a bit tense," he then spun and waved with the back of his hand and
jumped into a perfect swallow dive down into the pool below, Phillip
gasped at the suddenness of this action, he hurried to edge and
marvelled at the elegance of Bruce's dive, like an arrow streamlined it
accessed the water with merest ripple at entry, a clear jet of white
water splashed enticingly.


"Ten out of bloody ten," he guffawed in rapturous amazement,
"I didn't know you had that in you Findlay you dog," he bellowed down.
"You delivered good in more than one way," he continued more
softly.


"Never mind him Carlisle, get your scrawny backside down here
pronto," came a cheerful call, it was one of the beautiful McKenderick
twins either John or Peter.


" If that's John McKenderick opening his big mouth, he's for
it when I get down there." He called down jovially.


The voice called back " Scared of Peter then are we then
Carlisle?"



He crouched ready, " Actually no I'll kick both your puny lilywhite
arse's together," laughter resounded in a beautiful lagoon on a
beautiful day in paradise, his lungs blasted out a triumphant exultant
battle cry, "GEEERRRROOONNNNIMMOOOOOOO," and then he jumped into their
embrace.


Their faces were joyous and full of youthful mischief, their
hands reached out in warm acceptance and for a moment Phillip thought
he was home at last, but at that moment where they could have reached
out and pulled him in, held and caressed him, they suddenly scowled,
with expressions of loathing, pulled their arms away and they
disappeared, in that split second a deep dream crystal clear pool was
replaced by real concrete at the side of a seedy hotel pool, it was too
late to scream for whatever reason, one thing was right though it was
painless just like Bruce had said.


Arturo had shuddered but managed to look away, the crazy man
had jumped and had fallen seventy feet short of the pool, 'man that
must have been some cocktail he was on,' the noise of a human body
hitting concrete from that height is hard to describe, like an
explosion almost, it was too frightening to contemplate even
investigating whether the man survived, instead Arturo emptied his
stomach into the pool, a combination of bad booze and that sickening
noise had brought it on. As he knelt by the pool cursing the crazy
American or whatever he was, Arturo suddenly realised if perhaps a
little callously that he now had a perfectly good reason for being off
sick from work that day, I mean you don't often witness a suicide?I
mean imagine the shock poor Arturo would endure when the full impact
hit him. He looked blearily at his vomit floating, spreading over the
pool in disbelief that, that stuff was in his stomach moments before, a
disgusting odour filled his nostrils and he wretched again; he'd have
to tell someone about the pool, Marianne, yes he'd find and tell all to
Marianne, she'd know what to do he just hoped she wouldn't start
screaming when he showed her the body.