Chapter 17

After the rush and bustle of the last two weeks, not to mention the emotional strain of Tonia's and Lola's partings from work, we were glad to be on our way to Spain. After much to-ing and fro-ing and arguments with solicitors and discussions with Poppy, wheels were finally in motion to buy the house. Solicitors do not like private deals; it's against their religion or something. And one where the seller was to remain as a sitting tenant had them in ructions. However, it was finally done: we had agreed a price for the house and its contents, a scarily large number but not as bad as I had half feared. My flat and Lola's were on the market; we had agreed that Tonia's would be our 'urban pied-a-terre'. All our bank accounts and dummy companies were in place and we were finally on our way to soak up some sun and put our financial plan into operation. Despite that, or maybe because of it, we were in festive mood.

No charter flights or cut-price airlines for us; we flew scheduled carrier to Barcelona. The trip, however, was very nearly a disaster before we even reached the plane. I had forgotten to warn Charles about airport security. I say I had forgotten: in truth I never even thought about it. We take the unwarranted intrusion of our personal space and the humiliation for granted, or at least are forced to accept it as a necessary additional cost of the convenience of travelling by air, so it never occurred to me to consider Charles's attitude.

I was aware of him grumbling as we waited in the check-in queue. The grumbling became louder as he realised the questions the check-in girl was asking about our luggage. The grumbling rose to a muted roar as we queued for the security scan.

"Charles, shut up," I thought.

"This is untenable. It is totally unacceptable. How dare these minions subject you to this ignominy? They are insulting your personal integrity. You must allow me to put a stop to it immediately."

"It's only airport security. Everybody has to go through it. It's supposed to prevent terrorism and hijacking and that sort of thing."

"Stuff and nonsense. These are nothing more than a bunch of jumped-up petty Hitlers gloating over their power to degrade and dishonour honest travellers. They must not be permitted to treat you this way."

The words were typical Charles hyperbole but I had to admit to a sneaking sympathy with the underlying sentiment. Airport security always reminded me of the man who went around letting off thunderclaps every five minutes to the extreme annoyance of everyone around him. His justification was that it kept the tigers away. When it was pointed out that there are no tigers in Scotland, his response was to say that this proved his thunderclaps worked.

"Back off, Charles. If we want to get on the plane we have to go through this so put your pride in your pocket and thole it. Okay?"

He didn't actually agree but his grumblings did subside to a low murmur. That was until I set the alarm off. With a sigh I stepped to one side and spread my arms and legs in preparation for the body search.

"What is happening?" Charles demanded to know.

"I trigger the alarm. They're going to check I'm not carrying a concealed weapon."

"Why don't you just tell them?"

"It's their job."

As the security man reached inside my jacket to begin his search, there was an intense pressure behind my eyeballs, my body went stiff and I broke out in a sweat.

"Charles," I shouted mentally, "stop that, now!"

"But he is laying his hands upon you."

"Stop! Now!"

To my great relief, he did.

I smiled weakly at the security man. "I'm not a good traveller," I said. "Planes bring me out in a sweat."

He said nothing but gave me a very hostile and suspicious look. For a moment I was convinced he was going to haul me off to the wee back room. I was terrified and managed to control myself only with great difficulty. Even worse than being dragged off as a suspected terrorist was my fear that Charles wouldn't stay mute and take it into his head to intervene again. I bore his exceedingly thorough search with gritted teeth. I was visibly trembling as I collected my hand luggage and rejoined the ladies.

"You don't look too good," Tonia said. "What's wrong?"

"Charles," I muttered. "Nearly got me arrested by taking umbrage at the security man. I need a drink."

"It's only half past nine," Lola protested.

"I know," I growled and held up a trembling hand.

Lola brought me a double whisky and a black coffee.

"I'm off to find a quiet corner and have a wee talk with Charles," I said, downing the whisky in one gulp. It wasn't particularly good whisky so I felt no guilt about mistreating it.

"Charles? Are you there?" I thought when I'd found a relatively quiet spot.

"What?" He sounded sulky.

"Do you know what you just did?"

"What?"

"You very nearly got me arrested. Your imbecilic and childish behaviour put the entire mission in jeopardy. If I had been taken away there would be no holiday, no Spain, no money, no power, nothing."

"That is complete nonsense. That drudge; that minion; that menial laid his hands upon you. That is not permissible."

"Was he a threat?"

"He laid hands on you."

"That's his job, unpleasant as it is. Was I in danger?"

"Not really. Not specifically, no." He was suddenly sounding less sure of himself.

"So what were his emotions?"

"I can't read emotions as you know perfectly well."

"So what did you sense?"

"A general background threat."

"That was probably because you made me behave most suspiciously. So he was not a direct threat. And I had already told you not to interfere. Correct?"

"But it was unacceptable. You must not permit such things."

"Just answer my question. I'm right in saying I was in no immediate danger and I'd already told you not to interfere?"

"In essence, I suppose I have to agree with you. But..."

"No buts. So, despite these facts, which we agree, you stuck your nose in and very nearly screwed up all our plans."

"I resent that. I did what I felt was necessary."

I sighed. "Charles, your ego knows no bounds. Despite what you may think, you are a child in a man's world. You will not, under no circumstances, interfere with me ever again unless I specifically tell you. Is that clear?"

"But..."

"Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"And just in case you think you can sneak your way round it, I'm remembering something you told me on the first day we met."

"What is that?"

"That I have the power to put you back in the box. And, believe me, one more trick like that and that's where you're going. You're no bloody use to me if I'm locked up in gaol."

"I hear you," he sighed.

I waited a while longer until I was calm enough to return to Lola and Tonia. They were talking to a sleek, Spanish-looking businessman.

"All okay?" Lola asked as I approached.

I nodded. "I think we've come to an understanding."

"Not easy?" Tonia said.

"Dealing with Charles is never easy when he's in one of his moods."

"I'm sorry," Lola said. "This is Senor Alvarez."

We shook hands. Senor Alvarez turned out to be a very charming man and a native of Barcelona. As our plane was called, he gave us his card and insisted we call him up when we were in the city.

"He just wants to get into your pants," I said as we headed for the plane.

"Bitchy," Lola said.

"You have a problem?" Tonia said.

"No. Only joking. I liked him."

"So did I," Lola grinned and licked her lips outrageously.

That bit of banter helped to lighten my mood, as did the smooth flight and we were back in festive mode when we landed in Barcelona where we picked up our hire car and headed for Lloret de Mar. Why Lloret, which had the reputation for being 'lively'? For the simple reason that Tonia had found us the perfect hotel in Fenals which was a continuation of Lloret overlooking the next bay. It was the sort of place that offered the level of luxury to which we all aspired. On a more practical note, it was roughly in the centre of the Costa Brava so we could make forays into the resorts up and down the coast without decamping every other day.

The hotel lived up to its brochure. Situated on the outskirts of the town, it sat on a promontory overlooking the beach and was surrounded by a private pine and eucalyptus garden. I fell in love with the setting, was overwhelmed by the luxury and stunned at the prices.

"Better get used to it," Lola teased. "This is the way we're going to live from now on."

"Heaven," Tonia cried, stepping out onto the balcony and leaning over the railing to gaze down at the white sand that curved away from the hotel to the headland that marked the other end of the bay.

I stepped up behind her and cupped her bottom.

"I agree," I said.

"I meant the view," she laughed, wiggling her bottom as I squeezed her cheeks.

"So did I."

"You're impossible." She sighed. "When we're rich perhaps we could buy this place then we could visit whenever we liked."

Behind us Lola laughed. "Don't set you sights so low, girl. It's still early in the season so the beach isn't too bad. Come July you won't be able to see the sand for bodies. No, there are better places than this. How about a villa with a private bay and mooring for an ocean-going yacht? That's what you should be dreaming of."

"I just can't think in these terms, yet." I said.

"Just as well one of us can," Lola said stepping up behind me and giving my bum a good feel.

We moved into a three-way kiss and cuddle, not caring if we could be overlooked. The sensation of having two gorgeous women pressed lovingly against me was still as thrilling as it had been the first time, especially as they kissed and cuddled each other as much as they kissed and cuddled me. The fact we were doing it on the sun-drenched balcony of a five-star hotel only added to the pleasure.

"So what's the order of the day?" I asked.

"Shower, sun, dinner, planning, fun," Lola said without hesitation.

"Sounds like you've got this all planned out, girl," Tonia said. "I like the 'fun' part. Can't we move it up the agenda?"

"I thought blondes were supposed to be the airheads," Lola laughed, smacking Tonia's rump and making her squeal.

"I could always dye my hair," Tonia said.

"Don't you dare," I said. "I like you red and fiery."

"Talking of which, did anyone bring sunscreen? I forgot and if I don't use it you really will see red and fiery."

"Are you sure you're not a closet blonde?" Lola laughed. "Taken care of."

"I suppose I should use some too," I said, sheepishly. "I forgot, too."

Lola looked at me as if I was daft. "What do you need it for? You've got Charles."

"What about it?" I thought at Charles.

"Need you ask," he said impatiently. "Now when are you going to get on with some real work?"

I felt the tingle and my skin started to go brown.

"Not just now, you moron," I thought.

"I thought you wanted a tan."

I sighed. "But I've only just arrived. How could I have acquired a tan this quickly? Slowly, over the next couple of days."

"Then why didn't you say so."

"How tanned would you like me?" I asked the ladies.

They regarded my thoughtfully. "A deep golden brown, I think." Lola said.

"Hear that Charles?" I thought.

"Of course," he said, huffily.

"Why do you need sunscreen?" Tonia asked Lola.

"Girl, how much sun do I see at home?" Lola said. "My skin may be black and I won't go red, but I can burn just as bad as you."

We showered — singly — and applied sunscreen to each other while we were still naked. I didn't need it, of course, but it would have looked odd if my skin didn't have that sticky sheen, especially on my first day. And, besides, who was I to refuse the opportunity of having every inch of my skin touched and caressed by two beautiful women. I did draw the line, though, when Tonia started on my semi-hard cock.

"I'm not going to get sunburnt there," I protested.

"You never know. Better safe than sorry," she said slyly.

I felt a bit self-conscious, walking through the lobby of a five-star hotel dressed in nothing but brief bathing trunks. I needn't have worried as nobody paid the slightest bit of attention to me. All eyes, male and female, were glued upon my companions. Statuesque Tonia, with her chestnut hair was wearing a vivid green one-piece. It was modest in that it covered the necessary parts but the fact that it scooped almost to her coccyx at the back and was slit to her navel in a deep 'v' at the front with only a tiny bow between her breast to protect her modesty made it sexier than a string bikini. Lola, being the colour she was and proud of it, would have attracted eyes anyway but her costume guaranteed full attention. It was electric blue for a start and cut high at the hips so the front plunged between her thighs in a deep 'v', emphasising the length of her legs. While the top was relatively modest, the neckline hinting at décolletage rather than revealing it, the sides were practically non-existent, being carved away to leave a narrow strip of material joining top to bottom. If anyone was to comment there was nothing that could be pointed at as immodest but the overall effect just screamed 'sex'.

"Walk tall," Lola had hissed as we descended the last few steps of the stairs from our suite. "Look like you own the place."

"Good advice," Charles said in my head.

So I did, although my attempt at a confident smile probably looked more like an arrogant sneer. The ladies linked their arms casually in mine and we promenaded across the lobby, the three-inch heels of their sandals clicking on the parquet floor. All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to follow our progress as we smiled and nodded at the gawping faces.

"That was fun," Tonia squeaked as we settled ourselves on loungers on the terrace that ran along the front of the hotel.

"Wasn't it," Lola smiled.

"Anonymity is not an option then?" I said.

Lola swung her head round and looked at me seriously over the top of her sunglasses. "No," she said firmly. "Someday soon we are going to be very rich. Very rich people have a different view on life. Some of them are just arrogant pricks but then they'd probably be arrogant pricks even of they weren't rich. Being rich just means that everybody has to smile and pretend to like it. Those that are not arse-holes have a manner about them." She thought for a moment. "They don't ask for excellent service, they don't demand excellent service, they just take it for granted that excellent service will be given to them as part of the natural order of things. Do you see what I'm getting at?" She glanced up. "Here's the waiter."