Road to Recovery

Chapter 16

  The next morning we left Nassau, and if ever I had needed an Air-Ambulance, it was then, but according to Caroline a hang-over wasn’t covered by the travel insurance, and so eventually we landed at Palm Beach International Airport, Florida and promptly forget all about reality. Palm Beach’s motto is ‘The best of everything’ and so naturally its Airport’s motto is `Gateway to – The best of everything’, and I absently mulled this profound statement over as I settled down to a quiet round of golf on the airports indoor putting green, what planet had I just landed on? David had just been off tracking down our baggage, for some obscure reason they were about to go on their merry way back to Spain, and to compensate me in some small way for this heinous act I was presented with a courtesy Limo for my troubles, mine for my stay, although they did expect me to put petrol in it at my own expense, the cheek of it. I had fortunately just missed Palm Beach’s ‘high season’, thank the lord, but the place was still wall to wall millionaires, and most of them were members of the ‘lucky sperm club’ (Donald Trumpp’s saying, not mine), inherited money as opposed to those unfortunate ones that had to (ugh) work for it. I wonder what club I belonged to, the caravan wreckers club perhaps. We made our way to The Breakers Hotel and Resort in one piece, but after Spain’s comparatively empty roads, driving here was a nightmare, most of the drivers drove as though they owned the road; but then again looking at the size of their cars they most likely did. I had never been to Palm Beach before but people assured me that it was definitely ‘in my league’, but as we checked in I felt like the office junior being sent on an errand to the Board Room. I could just hear them saying behind my back ‘oh him, he’s only the ninth’. I was of course covering all David and Caroline’s expenses but I was definitely tempted to slip them some extra spending money. We were met by the French ‘Chef Concierge’ in person and shown to our adjoining Flagler Club suites, the absolute crème de la crème of opulent living, then after freshening up we went on a walkabout. We stayed together, not as employer and bodyguards, but as a mutual support society, we had to laugh at the prices, either that or burst into tears. First we tried the hotels shopping arcade and that was a hoot, then we went for it big time and ventured out into the heart of the Palm Beach’s ‘shop till you drop’ zone. Out of sheer desperation, and to say that I had actually bought something in Palm Beach, I secretly purchased four watches, one for each of my travelling companions as a thank you present, nigh on twenty grand each, but that did include $250 each for wrapping them up prettily. Then I remembered Bonnie and Clyde, so off we went and found a suitable ‘lost reality’ shop, and I calmly spent a further eight grand on matching collars for them, although I did save on the fancy wrapping paper, they just wouldn’t have appreciated it. David and Caroline got Cindy a ‘my parents went to Palm Beach and all they got me was this lousy tee-shirt’ tee-shirt - I promised to stand guarantor on the mortgage, and then that evening we got all dressed up and decided to go for a Chinese, well as Chinese as the hotels ECHO restaurant got, I never did get the hang of the stainless steel chop sticks, and so the last thing that I said to David and Caroline as I bid them goodnight was ‘please wake me up in time for the first flight off of this fantasy island’. Then it was off to bed, to dream of Bonnie and Clyde who only loved me for myself - not my money.

  Next morning, as our aircraft climbed swiftly away from Palm Beach International, I leaned back into in my seat and cast my mind back over the past twenty four hours. You can’t blame the ‘lucky sperm club’ members, that environment was what they had been put on this planet to enjoy, it was just that I had been totally out of my depth. All my adult life I had always been comfortable in one-to-one situations with ‘normal’ people, and was even starting to get to grips with Lawyers and Architects, but put me in among a group of my new peers, like yesterday, and I found myself totally out of my depth. I think I will definitely have to go back to school before trying that little experience again.

  As I was coming back from my holiday from my holiday a day early, the Sea Sprite was not anchored serenely in Marigot Bay off the island of St Martin, waiting for us, we had all had a ‘senior’ moment (forgotten), it wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow; I bet Maria wouldn’t have made that mistake. I had two choices, either Island hop in a teeny weeny little aircraft, or find a local hostelry for the night. What we had also forgotten, was the reason why Sea Sprite was putting into Marigot Bay in the first place, it was carnival time, and trying to find a bed and breakfast guest house with three vacancies would be all but impossible, but fortunately I wasn’t looking for a B&B. What we ‘found’ was La Samanna, a five star resort that boasted among other things five ‘speciality suites’, and due to a last minute cancellation I found myself in one of them, the Orient-Express styled Terrace suite, but unfortunately David and Caroline had to rough it in one of the common or garden beach front suites; I hope they will eventually forgive me. After a swim and a change of clothes we were off to Marigot town for some serious partying, I had a lot to catch up on after Palm Beach, so I ate when I felt like it, danced in the streets when the mood took me, and then decided to watch the grand parade; until I became part of it. Much to the consternation of David I was adopted by a group of very scantily dressed students. I had been convinced, prior to today that it would be impossible for me to enjoy life again to this extent but I was wrong, what a party. When I was asked what I ‘did’ I replied ‘retired’, well it wasn’t a lie, and after that they wouldn’t allow me put my hand in my pocket, after all I must be on the bread line – well almost, and the next morning, or what was left of it, I had yet another hangover, and yet again it was well and truly deserved. Later that afternoon, as I lay soaking up the sun’s rays and slowly becoming a member of the human race again I watched the Sea Sprite sail majestically passed me off shore; it reminded me of my pets, oh well - time to join the real World again, and two hours later I arrived back on board, after surreptitiously paying off my new ‘friends’ accommodation bills, to be welcomed at the top of the ladder by an exuberant Clyde, but there was no sign of Bonnie. I found her lying on my bed; she had been there ever since I had left, not eating a thing, just curled up into a ball. She obviously thought that I had left her as well, time for a cuddle – big time.

  That evening, as the rest of the guests departed for the Carnival, I remained on board, ostensibly to avoid meeting up with my new friends from last night (Caroline doubted that I would be able to survive another night like that) but the real reason was to spend some quality time with Bonnie and Clyde. Charlie had put Bonnie’s behaviour down to the heat, but I was convinced that she was still missing Sheila. Later that evening the three of us were sharing a lounger on the stern of the ghost ship Sea Sprite, watching a cocktail party getting under way on the flight deck of a nearby Destroyer: it was on a courtesy call to the Island and as usual they really did know how to do things like that, it was a speciality of the Grey Funnel Line (Royal Navy). The ship looked magnificent, bathed in floodlighting. First Officer Carter was doing her evening rounds when she spotted us quietly sitting there, and asked if she could join us for a few minutes. I readily agreed and she parked herself on an adjacent lounger. She politely asked how my mini holiday had gone, and I briefly glossed over the details. I then mentioned the Mega Yacht, more to wind her up (in the nicest possible way) than anything else, but then I nodded towards the Destroyer, ‘now that is what I call a ship, not that floating gin palace’. She laughed and agreed with me, then told me that she would ‘give her right arm for ten minutes in command of one of those’.

  I gave a chuckle and told her that if I ever came across a second hand one she would always be welcome to have a go on it. We both then sat there watching the cocktail party for a few more minutes, lost in our own separate thoughts, and then she was off ‘to make sure the ship wasn’t sinking’. She seemed like a very nice lady, and Maria thought so too.

  ~~~~