Missing Baggage

Nobody wants to wear the same clothes for the whole holiday, especially if they're the same clothes that they set out from home but even more, nobody wants to wear someone else's clothes especially if they belong to the opposite sex.

Well there is my friend Jeremy who likes to 'dress up' shall we say but I'll leave that for now.

What I discovered when I opened my suitcase was that it was full of someone else's clothes and she wasn't a man.

She had good taste though and I felt bad that presumably she was going through the same motions with my suitcase and my clothes.

I had a look through to see if I could find any ID as the holiday company tag was missing but there was nothing, just her clothes, a couple of make-up bags and a bag with shampoos, conditioners, that kind of stuff.

What I didn't do, and I promise this, I didn't look through the little velvet bag.

Hey, it's none of my business what a girl likes to pack for her holiday pleasure.

She had packed a couple of books though so I figured I could borrow one of those for a day or so.

I took the lift down to the lobby to find the holiday rep. With any luck the person who had my case was doing the same but after waiting for over an hour while phone calls were made I decided to leave it for the evening and go out for a beer.

With any luck I'd spot a girl who looked like she'd been wearing the same clothes all day and that would be that.

She would of course have to be around 5'8" and a size 8 with good taste in shoes and 34C -- well I did take a little peek at the labels in her things. At least I'd know what sort of woman I was looking for and apart from the fact that she'd been wearing the same clothes all day I reckoned she'd look pretty neat.

I chose a café on the beach side, ordered a beer and opened one of the books I'd taken from her case. I might at least get to know what she likes to read

A perfect start to a holiday except I have no clothes.

Well, not mine anyway.

The light was starting to fade quickly as it does this far south; no long summer evenings here, just a violet twilight and then the night comes as the sun dips below the horizon, black dark skies sprinkled with a million stars and I was shocked at how quickly the time had passed and then I reminded myself that's how it's supposed to be on holiday. Except that I should be wearing shorts and a t shirt, not the clothes I travelled in.

The waiter brings a citronella candle to keep the bugs away and I ask for another beer while I check my phone to see if I have any messages. The rep. promised to call or text me as soon as she had any information on my baggage but the phone is dead and the charger is in my suitcase. Damn.

The book is ok, chick lit really and I guess it will have a mushy ending but that's no problem. With any luck I'll have my own books before I come to the 'holding hands as they walk into the distance bit' and some clothes from my suitcase and I put it down and look around at the other customers.

There's a few people at the cafe, finishing drinks before dinner and I watch them ebb and flow for a while, trying to imagine who they are and how they are.

There's a couple not talking to each other, either so long together that they telepath their conversation or else they just have nothing to say anymore.

Then there's the honeymoon couple, dressed to the nines and all over each other while snatching glances at the people either side of them to see if they're being admired.

In one corner there's a woman who looks almost as if she came straight from work to the café. Whatever she's been doing she's had a hard day and looks exasperated, as if she's tried everything and still got nowhere and she's caught the sun on her nose, but her dark hair frames her face perfectly.

She catches me looking at her and I smile briefly before returning to the book I've borrowed. I'm embarrassed because I don't like to be caught staring. It's a childhood thing 'don't stare' but she's pretty and I snatch another look and she catches me again so this time I smile at her before looking back at the book.

Suddenly the book has lost my interest and I snap it shut and signal the waiter for the menu.

The sound of a chair being pushed back makes me turn and I see that the woman at the corner table is leaving and giving her money to the waitress. As she stands, I watch her move from sitting to standing in one easy movement that seems to go on for longer that I'd somehow expected. She's much taller than I'd first thought when I stole a glance at her and got caught but at least she smiled back.

I look away again, not wanting to disturb her. I know it can be difficult when you want time on your own and someone intrudes into your chosen solitude. She looks like she's had a hard day, probably chasing down missing baggage for angry and disappointed holidaymakers.

What a job. It's the last thing that I could do but I guess there are plusses, the long hot summer and the enjoyment of just being somewhere else for long enough to get to know it.

I look up again as she makes her way out of the café and see that she's going to walk right past my table. Deliberate? Well I don't know but at least it gives me an excuse to catch her eye again.

She walks easily with a gentle sway to her hips, lithe and fit and I wonder if she gets that from skiing or dancing. She's size 8 I'd guess and tall, about 5'8" and I have a sudden flashback to the suitcase in my room that makes me blush.

Suppose it's her, the owner of the case? She'll see the book and know I've looked through her things but it's too late now, she's almost at my table so I look up and smile at her again, hoping that she won't be too offended.

There's something about the way she's looking at me, as if she knows something that I don't and she stops right beside my table, indicating the book that is lying there beside my beer.

"How are you enjoying the book? It's one of my favourites and if you have a look on page sixty-nine there should be a note on the side margin *ask Debs what paragraph 5 has to do with her and Peter*.

Would you mind in your overly dressed state for this heat, and me still in my travelling clothes, but I think we may have solved the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle or a little part of it."

I like her voice but I'm not sure that I like what she's saying because it confirms my fear that I'm reading her book from her suitcase and although unintentional, she'll know that I opened it and then looked through her clothes and the other bits and pieces that she'd packed.

I look up at her and try to force a smile, racing to find words to defuse what could be a difficult situation.

"So you lost your suitcase as well." I say as I open the book, looking for the page. "Yes, here's your note. It looks like I have your suitcase and I'm hoping that you have mine."

Well at least she's smiling and not being angry and I pull a chair back, inviting her to sit.

"Look I'm sorry that I opened your suitcase but it's exactly the same as mine. I couldn't believe my eyes at first, you know, kind of denying reality, just not wanting to believe it?"

She's smiling at me, nodding her head as if saying, 'Go on, let's see what else you want to confess to'.

"Let me buy you a drink and then we can swap cases. You do have mine, don't you?"

"'Thank you, and yes, I could do with another drink. It has, all in all, turned out to be a pretty shitty day so far and yes, I do seem to have your suitcase, at least I'm guessing it's yours, Ts, shorts and board shorts with palm trees?"

She's smirking as she says this. Perhaps she doesn't like my taste in swim wear.

"Anyway, assuming it is yours it's in my room at the" she pauses "Oh well, I can't even remember the name of the bloody hotel but it's the one with the cabanas on the beach."

She holds out her hand. "I'm Emma, Emma Davis."

Now that she knows that I have her case and that I've opened it she looks a little uncomfortable. I guess it's because she's thinking that I've looked at everything and opened all her little bags. Maybe she thinks I'm some sort of perv who's been playing with her underwear.

I take her hand and reply.

"Hi Emma, and I'm Sam, Sam Fuller." Her hand is cool and her fingers long and slim.

"Look, I apologise for opening your case but I had no idea it wasn't mine and when I discovered it wasn't mine I did move a couple of things just to see if there was anything that might give clue as to whose case it was, perhaps an envelope with your booking details, anything really. But I do own up to borrowing one of your books."

I open the book on the table. "It's not one that I would have looked at usually but it's..." I look at Emma and she's blushing a little... "it's really quite erotic." I smile at her and continue. "Perhaps you'd let me finish it?"

I can see she's relaxing now and we seem to have reached agreement. I didn't see anything naughty in hers and she didn't see anything in mine; at least I hope not. My pal Jeremy, the one who likes to wear lady's clothes from time to time, insisted that I take some of his silk scarves with me. "You'll never know who you'll want to tie up Sam. Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't pack them".

So here I am sitting in a café in the clothes I travelled in with a very pretty lady who's in the same situation and I'm wondering if we can have some fun out of this.

"My hotel is just a few minutes from here, we can get your case right away if you like. Perhaps you'd like to grab a shower and change and then we can celebrate being reunited with our baggage. How does that sound?"

As we walk through the tangle of streets that make up the old part of town Emma is talking. I know about her job, about her grandmother and how she got her name and about the company cars and apartments that she gets the use of and she's checking me out.

Well to be fair I'm checking her out as well and every time I do I add another point to her scorecard and when we catch each other checking we smile easily at one another.

I like her telling me about her; I like her voice and the way she doesn't end sentences as if they were questions? and she's pleasantly assertive with an easy laugh so I just listen and make 'listening' noises every now and then and eventually we're at my hotel.

"Wow, nice hotel" she says as the door is opened for us by a uniformed doorman.

"Good evening, Mr Fuller, Miss..?" and in we go to the lobby.

She stands looking up at the vaulted ceiling of the lobby. It's not the Sistine Chapel but it is pretty smart.

"I'm impressed. Are you really staying here or is this just a ploy to get some lost woman into a hotel room that you happen to have the key for?"

I laugh.

"Well yes, this is my hotel and no, it's not a ploy to get some lost woman into a hotel room that I don't have the key for."

She's smiling at me and I know she was joking but she's also making a serious point. Apart from a drink together and her telling me her life story we really don't know each other at all but then, totally unexpectedly, she suggests that we go up to the room together.

"Look, there's no need for you to stay down here. If you haven't tried hurting me because I talk so much, then I guess you're safe to be around."

"Are you sure? It's really no problem for me to wait here in the lobby while you shower." But she insists it's ok, as if she wants me to be with her in this strange place, like kids holding hands while they explore a deserted building.

We walk across the lobby to the elevators and we must look like Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall back from some adventure in our rumpled clothes, catching the stares of the other hotel guests.

At the room I open the door and show Emma in. Her case is still on the bed looking undisturbed and just as I'd left it.

She smiles as if she's been reunited with a treasured possession, touching the contents and seeking out her private bags and packages. She turns to me.

"Thank you Sam, this is really very kind of you." I hand her one of the hotel robes from the wardrobe.

"No I'm just sorry about the mix up; take as long as you like. I'll grab a beer from the mini-bar so take your time. We still have ten days of the holiday left."

I watch her as she rummages through her suitcase, seeking out her make up and wash bag and as she does she glances at me. Perhaps she's looking for a sign that I've opened them and invaded her privacy and then, with the robe and her toiletries in her hands she stands looking at me and it's one of those moments where I wonder if she's going to kiss me on the cheek or should I kiss her but we just hold each other's gaze for a moment and then with a smile she closes the bathroom door behind her.

I have no intention of drinking another beer and I pick up the phone.

"Room service please."

While I wait, I can hear the shower running and my imagination of Emma runs wild -- hands, soap, water streaming over her breasts - and she's just the other side of the door. Who knows, perhaps this accidental encounter will lead somewhere and I figure a little nudge won't hurt.

"Oh Hi room service? Yes, a bottle of champagne and two glasses please, yes, as soon as possible."

I sit and smile. This could be a very fine holiday.

The bathroom door opens and Emma peeps out and sees me sitting in one of the armchairs by the coffee table. She's abandoned the robe and has one towel wrapped very seductively around her and another on her head like a turban covering her wet hair.

"Thank you Sam, I feel almost human again. It's a super shower, big and roomy, made for two I guess."

Emma is having one of those 'runaway mouth' moments when whatever she says has two meanings and she is picking up on the worst one each time - a kind of exponential verbal disaster.

So I smile.

"Well it is a double room so having a big shower figures but how are you feeling? Better I hope. It was awful hot and sticky out there in town clothes."

She's blushing in a very becoming way and just about to answer when there's a knock on the door.

"Excuse me, just a minute." and I open the door to the room service waiter who has the champagne and two glasses. I tip him at the door and take the tray from him, not wanting to embarrass Emma who is trying to hide herself. The waiter closes the door behind himself and I turn into the room with the tray of drinks.

"It's ok now, you can come out. The big bad wolf has gone." and I set the tray down on the table.

"Champagne? A kind of celebration for one lost suitcase reunited with its owner." and I pour two glasses and offer one to Emma.

"To a suitcase reunited with its owner." and I raise my glass.

"But what about your suitcase? It's still at my hotel." Emma asks.

"Oh that's ok, I'm sure we can run to another bottle to celebrate that reunion as well." and I clink my glass against Emma's.

"I'm going to grab a shower and then if it's ok with you I'll carry your case back to your hotel and you can let me have mine -- unless that is you prefer the contents of mine to yours?" I ask with a smile.

Emma blushes. I know that she'll have opened my case just as I did hers trying to find out who it belonged to and I wonder if she just opened it or had a good look. In fact, there's not much in there like that; just Jeremy's silk scarves, a pack of condoms and a tube of flavoured lube. Well, a man's got to be optimistic hasn't he?

I leave Emma in the room and close the bathroom door, well almost. Ok it's corny but it works in all the movies: handsome stud takes shower while beautiful young starlet peeks around bathroom door and melts at the sight of said stud's muscles.

Except I'm not Hollywood stud material, just a regular not bad looking guy who tries to stay in shape because that way it's more fun to ski and swim and water-ski. Muscle beach is not for me -- I'll leave that to the Adonis' of this world.

I turn on the shower full and strip. The water feels good, hard needles on my skin and as I pick up the soap I remember that the last body this particular bar of soap was being rubbed over was Emma's. It's amazing what a little thing like that can do to a man and I feel an erection stirring as I lather myself with the soap.

God it feels good to be out of those clothes I've been wearing for the past eighteen hours but at least it won't be long before I can get my own bag back and get a change.

OK, shower off, clang open the shower door, whistle tunefully -- well I don't want to embarrass her by catching her peeking into the bathroom - and then it's towel around waist, tight to show off the wasp waist, and back into the bedroom.

It's true, men are just as vain as women are and I'm just a regular man.

Emma is standing, still wrapped in her towel holding out a glass of champagne for me.

"Feel better? Here, drink this." She says, handing me my champagne. "Can we go out on the balcony?"

I take a sip.

"Yes, that sounds fun." And I give her my glass to hold and open the French doors, ushering in the sound of the beach and the cicadas.

She hands me my champagne again and I know she's looking me up and down just as I did when she came back into the room wearing just her towel. I hope my 'lazy lob' isn't making too much of a bulge in the towel but on the other hand it rarely hurts to honest about one's feelings.

We stand, resting our elbows on the balustrade, shoulders almost touching. She's very chatty but that's ok, a bit like an over-enthusiastic puppy but I like that. I never did enjoy deep and meaningful silences and I guess she's a little nervous at the unusual circumstances and to be fair, neither of us know each other at all except from the past couple of hours, but what I know so far, I like very much so I drink some champagne and listen.

"My Hotel has a lovely beach. Would you like to go for a late swim when we go back? Of course, if you have plans for the night, it's ok."

I smile at her again as she talks. I like her voice and I catch myself watching her lips as she pronounces her words and wonder how it would feel to kiss her.

"No I have no plans at all, not for tonight or even for the week so yes, a swim sounds good, I'd like that. I'll have to get my swimming stuff from my case though."

I grab the bottle from the coffee table and top up our glasses and now we're standing facing each other, just a breath apart, and again there's that pause when I think we might just kiss but she starts talking again.

"That's good, I have no plans either so if I miss out on the monuments and other tourist sights that won't be the end of the world and who knows, we might see them together."

I can't help myself and put my finger on her lips.

"Ssh." I finish my champagne and take her hands.

"For me, this has already been the best start to any holiday I can remember so thank you for the suitcase muddle, is was the happiest of accidents" and I kiss the backs of her hands.

Emma blushes and smiles.

"Me too and thank you for shutting me up. I know I rabbit on so..." and she reaches up and kisses me, just a delicate brush of her lips on mine, but a kiss.

"Ok, shall we get dressed then? I'll use the bathroom. Give me a shout when you're decent." and I go back into the bathroom to dress hoping that the steam from the shower has taken out some of the wrinkles in my shirt and chinos. It's not a bad look, chinos and a white shirt but I feel grubby again as I put them on. I really want some clean clothes. I always wear socks on the plane so that I can paddle about without my shoes but now here I don't need them and I call to Emma as I come out of the bathroom.

"Emma, do you have any talc? I need some for my shoes."

As I come into the bedroom I toss my boxer shorts and socks onto the bed and notice Emma watching me.

"Too hot for those." I smile, "Just years of habit packing them in case I have to go to hospital. Did your mother say that to you?"