CLEANER II: Chapter Two - Part Three

THE ORIGINAL DAHLIA

The taxi journey took about an hour and I watched out the window as the bright Rhodes countryside rushed by. I had been to Greece before but not Rhodes however it had that similar arid patchy landscape, so different from England that I’d seen elsewhere. There was a lovely glamour but also a decay, of things unfinished or past their best.

“Dahlia” said nothing and I kept to myself. It felt odd now between us. At first I had been very much the aloof employer, she the quiet mousy employee. Then, toward the end of our time in the UK we had started to become a sort of friends, something that had grown and expanded in the final preparations and the trip here. It was like we weren’t friends at all now and that knowledge was settled over the atmosphere between us, inhibiting conversation.

It was a multi-level state comprising discomfort and regret for the loss but also a thrill of enjoyment and daring. Had anyone on Earth ever done such a thing as this – taken it so far? Besides, I knew she was still my friend. We were only playing the parts we’d agreed to. And she was playing hers remarkably well. She should have been an actor. She had so far managed to affect a perfectly authentic remote indifference to me. She could almost make me believe she didn’t like me at all. It was funny.

We turned off the main road and trundled down a narrower branch lined with tall trees. Tourists and a few locals were walking the roadside. We turned again and the road became bumpier; again and it got bumpier still. The taxi had to slow right down. I looked across at “Dahlia” and thought for a minute I saw a curl to her lips.

Finally the taxi pulled to a stop and shuddered. We were outside a squat off-white hotel with peeling paint and a row of tired looking palm trees that needed trimming. The sign outside was coated in dust but the name was Castle Hotel. There was no indication why it would be called that, though the building looked ancient. I frowned, unsure of myself and looked back at “Dahlia.”

“This is where you’re going to live,” she said. “It’s nothing fancy I know.”

“Oh. Okay,” I replied. This wasn’t what I expected at all. I had imagined I would at least be in the same hotel as her. “Where are you staying?”

“On the seafront some way from here. A five star hotel called Satine Palace. I’m told you will be able to get there by bus in half an hour or so.”

“Oh. Right. Don’t you want me nearer to you?”

She chuckled, going along with the roleplay. “You’ll be able to get there in no time and I won’t be needing you right away. Besides you have some... eating to do. Don’t you.”

I blushed and nodded, uncomfortable talking so openly about the strange subject matter.

“This place isn’t much, I know, but it has an all you can eat buffet at meal times. That should get you started on your mission. We’ll fatten you up in no time.” She giggled.

“Uh, okay. Thank you,” I said, feeling a little despondent and lonely.”

I got out of the car and looked round. The hotel was a very run down. There was detritus piled against the side wall and parched scrappy grass on the lumpy ground out front. I felt very much out of my depth.

“Goodbye Melissa,” said  the new Dahlia. “Get settled and come and see me tomorrow. The staff here should be able to direct you on how to get to where I’m staying.”

“Okay. Sure.”

She said nothing more. I shut the car door and got my case out the boot and the taxi pulled off. She looked back at me through the rear window, smiling. I gave her a shy wave then turned toward my new home and walked toward it, struggling with the case’s little wheels on the uneven ground.

It had a pool at the side with a few guests lying on sun loungers. The pool was small and a bit dirty. This was obviously a lower end hotel but there were still a fair number of inhabitants. It looked like it was placed a long way from the beaches but I guessed the poorer people needed to be catered for. It needed major renovation work to be nice but clearly they had no money for that. It might even have needed knocking down and rebuilding, though it was hardly a prime location.

I went into reception and booked in. The man on the counter spoke enough English to get by. I thanked him and went up to my room.

It was small and gloomy at the back of the building. There was no balcony and it overlooked a scrappy field where a dozen or so cars were going rusty and falling apart. It had little in the way of comfort and no bath but there was a shower. It was the worst hotel room I’d ever stayed in and surely substandard for any tourist. Still feeling low and hoping for a perk up, I got undressed and stepped into it, washing off the journey.

I checked the time when I came out. I was feeling peckish, even though it hadn’t been that long since my ice cream extravaganza. I’d missed lunch, that was why. But there were snacks available downstairs shortly and I decided to go and have a look around.

Unpacking, I found a swimming costume and put it on, frowning at the design. T was on the frumpy side with big pink flowers on a dark blue background. Not something I ever would have normally worn and it clearly showed the extra weight I’d put on round my middle.

I stood in front of the mirror, looking at myself, barely recognising anything in the person looking back at me. She suited this place, that woman, with her slightly dumpy figure and humdrum hair, her big round glasses. It was a place for ordinary people and I was certainly ordinary now. There was no denying that.