The Gap Year

Chapter 37

'Come now. Let's stop with this fighting and join in with some traditional dancing.' The waiter, who had changed out of his uniform and into an outfit of ridiculous white stockings and twirling mini skirt topped with a red belt, seemed to be trying to herd Harry and I in to participating in some sort of of a poor man's bull fight. Unfortunately for him not only are we in the wrong country for such a sport, but he's also unwittingly picked the wrong cows to herd, since Harry and I both stood sullen, he pretending to look in any direction other than at me, whilst I chuntered manically to myself, still aghast that Liam had left without me.

'It's okay, I think we'll pass.' Harry spoke, momentarily breaking my internal diatribe.

'No way my friend.' The waiter wasn't listening, 'our dances bring unity, peace, which is exactly what you two young lovers need.'

'We are not lovers.' Harry's teeth were gritted as he tried to free his arm from the grasp of the overly eager waiter. Well he could at least pretend not to sound so offended by the comment. What's he got to be offended about? It's me that should be outraged at such a suggestion.

'Not yet.' The waiter winked, dragging Harry, who was at least a foot taller than him, flailing to the centre of the room, which had now been cleared of all tables and chairs in preparation for the impending entertainment. 'You stand there.' He ordered. 'Right, now you!' He pointed at me, 'over here Miss!'

Good God is he mad? Why would he think that I'd even entertain the idea of taking part in something as preposterous as socialised dancing? I don't care if I'm a Rep and such duties would ordinarily form part of my job description. I shuddered at the memory of Dave the Head Reps frustrated encouragement at the start of the season, as he naively tried to lecture me that not only did I have to participate in Select's fortnightly Greek themed night, but that I was also contractually obliged to enthuse the guests in to taking part too. Sadly the waiter here at the Rainbow Taverna had not received Dave's memo to Select HQ recommending that I should be excused from further participation if only to protect the company's brand image.

'Put me down,' I kicked as the waiter, now carrying me in a fire man's lift, led me towards Harry.

'No wonder you look depressed,' he spoke at Harry, 'she's a feisty one!'

'Tell me about it.' Harry laughed.

'What did you say?' I yelped, still dangling over the waiter's shoulder.

'Oh come on Emma, lighten up, Greek dancing might actually be fun.' He is so contrary, one minute no, the next minute yes. And yet I'm the one who gets accused of giving mixed messages.

'Like you actually want to do something as ridiculous as Greek dancing,' I spat at him whilst adjusting my outfit now that the waiter had at last put me down. 'You're just suggesting it to annoy me. Well go ahead and embarrass yourself, but you are not embarrassing me.' I stabbed my index finger at my chest.

'Oh, so we're back to this again; things that aren't good enough for Posh Princess Emma. Oh that's right, you leave, just like you always do.' Harry's voice laughed behind me as I ran down the steps, hurrying to get away from that wretched restaurant, away from him as quickly as possible. What does he think I'm going to do, hang around whilst he and everyone else attacks every inch of my identity.

I fought not to cry but the battle was pointless. I needed to indulge myself in self-pity, to feel the satisfaction of wiping the snot from my nose as I wonder what in life I have done to deserve this, an overseas posting to hell, the worst national service ever created, to a place where everyone and everything is mean to me when all I have ever done is try. But that's always been my problem. I've always tried too much. I sobbed remembering Mothers disappointment when I only scored an A in my Maths GCSE. 'But you need to get an A* to get in to Medicine,' she had wailed, ignoring the hours I'd spent practising how to calculate the volume of every last inane object I might be tested on. Well I proved her wrong, and I'll prove these pigs wrong too.

'Emma, wait.' I could hear Harry's voice chasing after me.

'Go away!'

'You'll get picked up by someone worse than Adonis you know.' I stopped in my tracks, surveying my whereabouts now nervously. I had set off downhill without a thought to where I was going, but I could have only got a few hundred metres since I could still read the now glowing restaurant sign.

'There a plenty more bastard men on this island you know?' Well he's right about that.

'Or worse still you'll be killed. Do you know how dangerous these roads are just in the daytime, never mind now, in the pitch black?'

I gulped down, all too familiar with the dangers of the roads, having stared in disbelief on too many occasions at the crucifixes and lanterns which lined nearly every hairpin bend.

'Please Emma, you might not like me anymore, well I'm not sure you ever did, but at least let me drive you home.'

'I'd have thought it impossible for you to bring yourself to taxi about someone as stuck up as me?'

'Look you might annoy the hell out of me but I'm not about to leave you out here on your own, I need to make sure that you're safe.'