Singles Holiday, Part Three

We arrived at the hotel in time for a late breakfast on the terrace, looking out over the sea and shaded by vines. Tamsin went straight to bed. I stood next to Caroline in the line shuffling past the amazing display of tropical fruits but she said it was too soon, people might get suspicious.

I took some pineapple which has beneficial vitamins in it, and a black coffee. I took spring water, but no Cava. I needed a clear head to study next season's Premiership fixtures. I checked my diary to see if I could get to Swansea on the 17th August. I heard a loud pop and looked up to see half the stag party grouped around Caroline, she holding out her glass to one of the shaven-headed sportsmen for a top-up.

There were loads of things to do but the sun was hot and the Fun4One group were tired from their all-nighters or early starts. I spent the day snoozing and lounging by the infinity pool and exploring the gardens of the hotel. There was plenty to look at round the pool, swimwear being optional, but not smartphones and e-readers. To break the ice, people were asking each other about the merits of the latest Kindle, Kobo, Nook or Sony.

In the evening things livened up. There was a fashion show in a Romanesque amphitheatre behind the hotel. We sat at tables and were served drinks. I waved at Tamsin who sat right at the back with two tall men in cloaks, their faces even paler than Tamsin's. On the stage, a local boutique were shifting stock with the aid of four models who worked their way through the entire collection of evening wear, beachwear and lingerie. The speed of the outfit changes was incredible. You could hardly believe it was the same woman you saw a few moments ago. Now why is it not like that in real life?

As an extra incentive they offered 40% off to any hotel guest who would model an item of swimwear. There had been a certain amount of informal posing by the pool, and there were half a dozen singles, female, who volunteered to display their wears some more. The stags sportingly persuaded their groom to model a thong swimsuit.

Caroline has an eye for a bargain and modelled a white bikini. She walked confidently down the catwalk, shedding a white muslin wrap to tremendous cheers from the stags. She came to the front of the stage and gave me a wink. At least I think it was me. The compere had all the models, volunteers included, on the catwalk for the finale, and made some rude suggestions at the expense of Mr Thong. You can imagine how everyone laughed.

Drinks were served from a small outdoor bar and people sat around in the warm night air after the show. Tamsin emerged from the shadows and joined me at my table.
"Who was that you were talking to? I didn't see them on the plane."
"They're not guests, they're locals," said Tamsin. "Research. Would you like me to introduce you to them?"