From Across The Bay Ch. 01

Jossy didn't notice the glint of light as she sat down for her first coffee of the day. It came from the rich villas perched high on the cliffs the other side of the bay. The glint was the only movement beneath the blistering sun, other than the occasional turning of a bronzed body down on the beach below.

Jossy made herself comfortable at the table on the decking outside her hotel room. She needed to make some sort of decision today, a decision she'd put off for far too long. Her room was at the far end of the hotel complex, giving her the privacy that she needed to finally make that decision. The reception staff had tried to put her in one of the rooms by the children's pool, but she had soon convinced them otherwise. It had been simple to Jossy. This room was the one she wanted and so this was the one she would have.

The silence of the Mediterranean resort shimmered around her as she sipped the coffee. No noise, no interruptions, waiter service to the room. There really was nothing to stop her deciding now whether or not to allow a solid gold band to join the diamond on her left hand. Not that the diamond was on her hand now, it was tucked away in a draw back in the coolness of her room – she didn't want anything to unduly influence her decision, not even that ring's crisp beauty.

The glint of light came again as she drained the cup and reached for the bottle of Grenache she had ordered with the coffee. One advantage of getting up so late in the day was that no one ever questioned your breakfasting habits.

She sighed and plonked a few pieces of hotel paper and a pen on the table. She would never tell her mother this, but she drew, as instructed, a solid black line down the middle of the page and then two headings: Pros, Cons. For someone of Jossy's decision making attitude, it was like putting SatNav on a gondola.

A month ago, her mother had taken one look at the cleanliness of Jossy's flat and immediately arranged for her daughter to come to this hotel, where she would not have so many readily available distractions. Jossy had insisted that her mother not worry about it: as with every other crisis, a solution would present itself (or himself) somewhere along the line. Her mother had told her to grow up and forced the reservation documents into her hands.

Jossy took another mouthful of wine and tried to concentrate on the paper, but the glint of light flashed again and this time, she noticed it. She paused, there it was again, like the flash of a sniper scope in a war movie. That's great she thought, I just get a chance to sit down and do this thing and there's another interruption.

She placed the half empty wine bottle on the paper to stop it blowing away and went back into the room for her binoculars, a holiday hang-up she'd inherited from her father. It might be someone in trouble, using a broken bit of mirror or something. She ignored the fact that that the glint was from a six figure villa, not a desert island.

When the glint came again she was able to focus in on it immediately. A man stood on the veranda with a pair of binoculars trained straight at her. The man's mouth swore silently as the figure realised that she was looking straight at him. Jossy expected a rapid exit, but instead, after a few moments hesitation, the figure put the binoculars down and seemed to be searching for something. She kept watching him: his body was worth the time and after all, she was simply returning the favour. The man picked up a white piece of board and seemed to be writing on it. When he'd finished, he turned it over for her to see, there was a single word.

*Sorry*.

Then he wrote on the back and flipped the board over.

*Made you look though*.

Jossy smiled, then grabbed a piece of paper and pen from the table and scribbled furiously on it.

*What the hell you think you're looking at?* She hoped that the words were big enough for him to read.

He crossed out the word sorry and wrote underneath. *Bird watching*

Jossy grabbed another piece of paper. *There are no birds here.*

*I know, that's why watching you instead.*

*How long you been watching?*

Jossy waited as the man took a piece of cardboard from the floor and wrote on it. *Blue Knickers.*

Before she could stop herself, Jossy pulled away the waistband of her shorts and was relieved to see blue fabric nestling around her hips: he'd only been watching her for half an hour or so. By the time she caught herself, he had written something else.

*I can't believe you had to check.*

*Pervert* came her reply.

He didn't respond immediately, instead Jossy saw him scrabbling around on the floor again. He evidently didn't find what he was looking for, because then he then disappeared inside the villa. Reappearing a short time later, he pulled his T-shirt over his head to reveal *Run out of paper* across his stomach.

Jossy felt her empty stomach give a light skip. *What you going to do if I keep you talking?* She replied.

Above the previous message, he wrote. *Hoping you run out of paper to.*

She reached for another piece of paper. *I've plenty,* then her stomach tightened as she slowly turned over the sheet to reveal *but I'm game if you are.*

*How game?*

Taking a breath, Jossy lifted her T-shirt and wrote across her belly *is that a challenge?* Jossy quickly lifted the binoculars back up to see him pulling off his jeans and writing up one leg *I have more body-space than you.*

*Really?*she wrote above the previous message.

*Unless you're not shy* came the response, written across his chest.

Jossy smiled, enjoying the game. She carefully rolled the elastic on her shorts down three times and wrote across the very base of her stomach *We'll see who's shy shall we?*

Over on the other side of the bay, the man rolled down his boxers and wrote *okay.*

Jossy rolled her shorts down as far as she dared and wrote. *You gonna lead of follow?*

Then came the reply. *You win,* written on the inside of his arm. Then on the other arm, something that made Jossy gasp. A phone number.

Jossy stood there watching those two tanned arms outstretched, wondering what to do. Then as she put the binoculars down she saw that piece of paper patiently waiting for her on the table, a single black line unsullied by any decision, weighed down with the bottle. She glugged another glass of the Grenache and then reached for the phone.

On the third ring it was answered.