him, it’s great to see her happy. “Of course I didn’t realise just what kind of ‘family’ vacation it would turn out to be, Mum and Dad, blimey.”
Indeed.
“And your company having breakfast in there?” He nods his head to the living room, “there's something off about those two Tharie.” Their uniforms aren't ironed, I’d have to agree.
"They found three undesirables wandering out in the dessert,” James tells us, “they've been looking for two of them for days regarding a theft of an artefact and a diary from an old lady's house,” old ladies eh? Don't these people draw a line? “Picked them up, locked them up,” James tells us casually like this is just another day in paradise. We go into the front room to join the guests, James continues his tale, “they told an incredible story about being kept prisoner and being tied up.” He laughs, sipping his whiskey. You have no idea.
One of the officers takes over the story, “but we know Pearce's and we know that must be the lie so after we put them the jail we come to check on here.” He eyes us leerily, and an uncomfortable atmosphere begins to bloom. His broken accent easier to follow than my Spanish, “best cup of tea in region.” He salutes the room full of gawping faces with his cup, and saucer. They chat in Spanish to each other under their breaths, Pete listens intently, her expression changing, she shoots a look at James, he picks up on her silent warning. “Hey Mr Graham, Bab's, how you doin”? The older officer asks, clearly he watches too much American TV, like we all do.
"We're fine Carlos, just having the family over for the weekend." Says Graham and smiles a wide friendly smile as best he can. Daniel has a smile like it, he uses it when he's trying to converse with someone fit for a straitjacket.
“Play ‘trivial pursuit’.” Barbara adds, “drink some wine, you know?” The atmosphere of a feeling of discomfort spreads through the air like smoke, we can all smell it now, my own heckles are up. He stands and hands his cup to Pete with a lecherous wink, she puts it down immediately, she doesn’t clear up after anyone, including herself, she has a maid for that too.
”Well, storms brewin' so best getin' back to town,” says Carlos, clearly another fan of old cowboy movies his Spanish accent makes it sound funny, “come on boy, your turn to drive.” The boy looks instantly happy about that, clearly, he's not usually allowed behind the wheel, he's missed a button on his shirt, he really shouldn't be allowed to drive should he? Grabbing his hat with sweat stained band, they head out, does nobody here bathe or do any laundry? They wave goodbye over their shoulders, Carlos lights a cigarette pausing briefly to shade the flame from the wind, glancing over his shoulder at the house behind him. They get in the dirty car and they drive off in a puff of exhaust or badly burned oil. It’s to do with the colour of the smoke, but I can’t recall...
“We're in trouble,” Pete says with a grim look on her face. I know that look, it's when someone's got the same shoes as her at a 'do'.
“Yes, let’s get out of here,” from Liza, she understood too of course, and she’s a serious as a travers form C to E into a counter canter...which if you don’t' know dressage, is serious, quite serious indeed.
Nigel has decided his glasses are already clean and don't need any further attention. Graham looks over at Barbara nodding, “grab provisions everyone, we've got to get out of here.”
The wind outside is speeding rapidly and loose dry leaves and twigs are being tossed and swirled around. A hurricane? Well used to packing our backpacks we go into survival mode, the tea is fresh so I fill flasks again. I grab fruit and bread, bottles of water, chocolate fingers and KitKats. I share the weight by distributing the water between all of us, grab even more chocolate bars and stuff them in my pack.
“The weather, it will get worse?” Adds Liza, but it’s not the brewing storm she’s talking about. She motions to the fast retreating cloud of dust, “they’re expecting company” she says, and suddenly not moving away from us any-more, the cloud of rapidly increasing dust grows closer, they're coming. As I look out of the front windows, a fast moving convoy