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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2043355-Summer-Holiday
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Writing · #2043355
I wrote this as a chapter of a potential novel I am working on. A work in progress
Do you like looking through holiday brochures, ever find yourself idly looking out of the window at a suspended ceiling of grey cloudand wish you were somewhere else ? Ikky Izagaren certainly does, although I expect that you don’t spend as much time looking at holiday brochures as Ikky does. If you were to ask him he would say that he feels drawn in by the bright, bold colours , the promise of new experiences. He might even say the feel of the brochure itself is alluring. The more expensive the holiday or resort the less expense spared on the printing, that is Ikkys conclusion, with thick heavy paper, maybe even some embossing on the cover.
What kind of holiday do you like? Beach holidays, skiing, walking, or maybe you are one of these people who likes to spend time getting back to nature under canvas. Ikky would give all of these a try, if you were to press him, however to name the ultimate holiday it would be the five star all-inclusive resorts where you were located on a deserted beach, among a fantastic landscape or a stones throw from a wildlife watering hole. All taking place under the brightest sun that Ikky could imagine, brighter than the insipid light that attempted to warm more northern climes. Sun that when you stepped into it you might well believe that you were being slowly roasted. The air as warm as your breath, which may well mingle with the already moist air adding to the fetid atmosphere.
The term holiday is if you look very rarely used, in fact Ikky could not recall ever seeing the term holiday at all any of the high end brochures, well not for a long time anyway. Ikky assumed that this was down to the fact that the term holiday would not be in keeping with the overall tone of theses publications. These were experiences , not mere holidays, a holiday was something you went on with your parents to a campsite in Wales or Cornwall. These were once in a lifetime experiences with each resort trying to outdo the others to imply that this place was so much better than this other place only just down the beach. “Now you can find yourself waking from a restful sleep to the sound of waves lapping at a deserted white sand beach just outside your individual bungalow.”
Not that Ikky had ever experienced the warm tropical waters of the Maldives, seen an elephant drinking from a watering hole while eating his dinner, or breathed in the majesty of the Rockies from the viewing carriage of a train. He had been outside of the UK of course he had, the usual trips to Spain and France, he had even ventured to New York as he was told it was somewhere you had to go. Ikky however spent the time mostly in the hotel he was not expecting it to be so crowded, other people made him nervous. it was afer this trip that he let his passport expire, ran out the holiday clock. He now had the brochures and his imagination. He knew that he would never get to swim with rays off Grand Cayman or visit Mayan ruins in the jungles of Guatemala, he just liked to find out what was possible and imagine himself doing just that. He prefered it this way, here there were no queues for luggage, airplane food, crowds at the tourist honey pots or the post holiday come down. If you never went how would you miss it, and with the imagination you could go on numerous holidays a week, and it kept the mind supple.

Ikky used to get his brochures from the highstreet, there seemed to be an almost as many travel agents on the typical high street as there were coffee shops . He became a regular feature in the travel agents. He used to flatter himself and led himself to believe that the staff were of the opinion that he was going to these places on a regular basis, maybe they thought he was some kind or reclusive millionaire, a shy lottery winner or maybe he had begun a successful internet start up or devised a mobile app that had be brought for millions by one of the big IT firms. It was not like there weren’t 28 year old people who could afford to go to these places, however ,it was unlikely that they would live in a medium sized market town and were accountants for a struggling sofa manufacturer. They didn’t know that did they , the staff. He even tried to act aloof to try and project an air of importance, though this Ikky found hard to do, almost impossible.
“Hi, where you looking to go now ? We have a deal on our 8 night Gujarat raj experience if you are interested” the answer was always the same
“It's ok I am just looking at the moment “
“No worries, let me know if you need anything” that was what Debbie always said, every time. She was Ikkys favourite travel agent .
The illusion that he was a millionaire was swiftly dispelled when he realised that the frequency of the visits to the travel agents would mean that he wasn’t going anywhere in between, he had never booked anything with anyone and the most important realisation was that if he really was a multimillionaire he wouldn’t be looking to book himself and he would be looking at even more expensive experiences, the private safari or island and going by private jet planes. There was also no way that he would use a high street travel agent.
Ikky was a fool, there was no way that he was believable , the staff were just humoring him, playing along and laughing at him behind his back. He cut back on the trips to travel agents, he stopped going in to the majority of them.
He did, however keep up the pretense for Debbie, he never saw her out of the corner of his eye with the other staff giving him sly glances and then turning back to giggle when he was looking at the brochures.
There though had to be a time when these visits would also end, as things eventually do. Walking home from work at Christmas time he passed the staff of Hodgkin's Travel who were out for some after work drinks or some kind of party. Either way they had obviously been drinking for a while as it was only six thirty and the conversation already quite jovial.
Debbie swayed over toward Ikky. He saw that she was wearing the highest shoes he had ever seen but there was not as much flesh on display as some of the others in the group, Ikky did not condone the objectification of woman at all, however it was woman’s right to chose how they dressed. He tried not to look at women in case they thought he was seeing them as purely a sex object, but everyone likes to be complimented don’t they and dress nicely in clothes that make them feel good and be complimented. If he was honest the whole issue tied his conscious up in knots.
“Hey you” she pawed at his coat trying to steady herself before gripping his forearm. She was gripping quite tight, so tight in fact that Ikky could feel her elaboratly painted nails through his coat.
“Umm… hello”
“Been anywhere nice lately ?” Debbie suppressed a giggle and pushed back one of her work colleagues who idea it had obviously been to come over.
“No not really, I’m on my way home”
“That’s nice…. wanna see my bikini atoll ?” Ikky wasn’t sure how to respond to this rather vulgar and rather overt phrase so he chose to side step it completely.
“Sorry,…. Umm no, sorry I don’t know what you mean. I can see you are having a good time and you don’t want to spend it talking to me. I will be off now” Ikky tried to get away but Debbie held firm. This was not a very comfortable situation.
“Why do you keep coming” Debbie smirked “ why you keep coming in our shop, is it cos you fancy me ?”
“No…. well you are a nice looking lady”
“She aint no lady” Debbie’s work colleague helpfully added.
“I find you a bit creepy, I mean you come in like twice a week and take a brochure or whatever and never book anything. I mean the brochures, we can’t like be giving them away all the time” Debbie swayed, and looked down at the pavement and looked like she was going to be sick.
Ikky kept talking, out of watching someone be sick over the pavement and their shoes or getting publicly berated he would chose the latter. “Right don’t they, I mean the brochures, get supplied by the travel companies, surely giving them away is what you are meant to do”
This pearl of possible wisdom seemed to rally Debbie who snapped back“ Yeah, whatever stop changing the subject. Anyway I reckon that you are stalking me as you keep coming in when I’m working. None of the others see you when I’m not there. You are quite nice looking if you paid some attention to your appearance you never know I might feel like going on a date or something , just don’t think you are going to get your leg over that easily. I know you might think I am a bit of a tart,
“Well I might book a holiday I just haven’t decided on which one and you seem like you might be the most helpful”
“Bullshit, you’ve been coming in for like two years or something and never even got close to placing a booking not even for like a week in a Greek villa or whatever. All you wanna do is harass me at work, these lot” she indicated the rest of her colleagues who by now were focused on helping one of them work out what she might have done with her house keys. “ call you my mystery man , which if you ask me is fucking stupid name as there isn’t anything mysterious about you, you just want to get your mucky little paws on the goods” Debbie was getting increasingly angry ,and was by now poking Ikky in the shoulder and it was becoming painful . “But to be fair you are putting in the groundwork coming in all the time ,guess it is called playing the long game , going to slowly wear me down is that it ?”
“If I was stalking you I would be outside your house and follow you around. I’m not trying to get my paws on your goods I just like you” Maybe best to be logical
“So you admit it you are stalking her” that was perhaps not the most useful comment.
“No, I’m not a stalker you must believe me”. Sympathy that always works, well most of the time.
At that moment Debbie loosened her grip on his arm as she was distracted by an incoming text message and Ikky took his chance to escape.
“I’m going to go now, I hope that you have a nice rest of the night” and backed away, almost running, swiftly from Debbie
“Oi, I still want to know why you are stalking me, I just can’t decide if I should be flattered or not”
Ikky couldn’t here he was already walking away as fast as he could.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2043355-Summer-Holiday