Chapter 19

"OK,"Heather pushed a print-out across the counter. "Here you are. Flight out tenth of February, leaving Gatwick at ten-oh-five, arriving Malaga thirteen fifty-five.

Car hire from Cargest - they're the only ones who'll accept a driver under 25. Couldn't get the same house, of course. In fact, when I spoke to Sofia, she said all the houses in the village had been withdrawn, but then she came back with a new one - owned by an Englishwoman. It's only two streets away from where June stayed. Bigger place, though - two bedrooms. And centrally-heated. She says she's not been to check it out yet, but I can make a provisional booking and she'll confirm when she's been up to see it. Whole thing about six hundred pounds."

Alison winced. It was more than she'd spent on holidays in her whole life.

Heather looked embarrassed. "I can get a cheaper flight if you don't mind leaving at seven in the morning. But we're only looking at about fifteen quid difference. The problem is the car hire. It's nearly twice as much as I could get it from Paco Sanchez, but he won't take under 25 drivers. And then the house. The only one available is much bigger than you need and a very high spec."

Alison stared miserably at the figures. She had the money, but it would take almost all her savings. Did she care that much about finding out what happened?

"I've got an alternative, though, if you'd consider it."

Alison looked up eagerly.

"We could go together. I'm over twenty-five, with ten years' driving experience. We could share car hire and the rent. And -"here she paused for effect. "I get everything at a discount anyway."

"How much?"Alison asked, actually rather liking the idea of going with Heather. She had been worried about going on her own.

Heather took a deep breath, "Two hundred and fifteen pounds,"

"Good grief! It's unbelievable! But are you sure you want to do this?"

"She's my friend too,"Heather said. "I care about what happened to her. But I couldn't find out anything on my own. I don't speak Spanish."

~ * ~

The hire car wound its way up the narrow mountain road and Alison sat in a state of terror, occasionally looking past Heather at the terrifying drop below. There were barriers along the road, but they were placed haphazardly and it seemed mandatory that there was never a barrier at a particularly dangerous place - a steep bend, for instance, where if you were distracted for a second you could go straight ahead and plunge into the abyss.

Heather seemed entirely unaffected by this and chatted away, every so often taking her hand off the wheel and waiving it about, apparently unaware that Alison's responses were monosyllabic or non-existent.

By the time they reached Òrgiva, Alison was a gibbering wreck. She'd never been afraid of heights before, but now, as if to make up for all those carefree years, fear had her firmly in its grip. She couldn't get out of the car. Her legs simply refused to respond. Heather, finally aware that her passenger was not behaving as expected, came round to her side of the car and hauled her out.

"Right,"she said, "we'll soon deal with this. Sit here."And she plonked Alison at a café table and marched into the bar. Alison sat at the table, staring out at the mountains, feeling oddly disorientated.

A few moments later Heather returned with two large glasses. "Here, drink this,"she said, placing one in Alison's hand. Alison didn't even enquire what was in the glass, but drank it all down in one gulp, then handed the empty glass to Heather. "Right,"said Heather, who hadn't even tasted her own drink, and marched back into the bar.

Alison was rather more circumspect with the second glass and only drank half before demanding to know what it was.

"Gin and tonic,"said Heather.

"What, in a glass that size?"Alison looked at her glass, which was surely not much smaller than a half pint pot.

"Well, there's a lot of ice and tonic."

"Yeah, right,"said Alison, knocking back the rest. Already she was feeling better.

There was a tall, thin man making his way up the street and Heather stood up to wave enthusiastically in his direction.

"Must be Johan,"she said to Alison. "He doesn't look at all Spanish, does he?"

"Haven't you met him before?"asked Alison, surprised.

"No. I've just dealt with him on the phone and emails, but I feel like I've known him all my life."

The man's face broke into a broad grin when he saw them, and he quickened his pace. Heather was right, he didn't look at all Spanish. His hair was greying, but had clearly once been fair, his eyes were a pale grey-blue, and there was an entirely un-Spanish purposefulness to his stride.

"Hello,"he said, grabbing Heather by the shoulders and kissing her on both cheeks. "So, we meet at last. And this,"he turned to smile at Alison, "must be your schoolteacher friend."Alison found herself completely unable to stand and so remained seated helplessly as he bent over and kissed her.

"Sorry about Alison,"Heather said. "She suddenly discovered she was afraid of heights and I had to give her a bit of Dutch courage."She winked at Johan. "If you'll excuse the phrase."

She looked back at her friend. "I think I may have overdone it a bit."

"Nonsense,"said Johan. "The more the better. Then she won't notice the heights on the way up to Caserones."He leant over and whispered. "The road up there is much worse."Heather giggled like a schoolgirl. "So, what can I get you?"

"I think I'd better just have a glass of lemonade, since I'm driving. Alison's already had two double gins, so maybe she'd better have the same."

Johan grinned. "How about we compromise and make it two tinto de veranos?"