know) and English was her mother tongue. That had been enough for Vlad to take her on, but he could equally get rid of her if her work wasn’t up to standard.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Edie apologised to the customer, who gave a long-suffering sigh in response. ‘I’ll get you some right away.’
She turned back towards the bar and kitchen, trying hard not to drag her feet. She had cleaned cabanas all morning and then come straight here for the lunchtime shift and she’d now been taking food orders, pulling pints of pale yellow lager, preparing cocktails with coloured parasols and handing over bottles of fizzy pop with bendy straws for the kids for over two hours already. It was the first time in her life she’d had to work so hard, on her feet for hours at a time, her breaks never seeming long, frequent or restful enough.
Once she’d delivered the cutlery, she sought respite by going round behind the kitchen, ostensibly to fetch a crate of Coke but in reality to get five minutes’ time out from the frenzy. Standing in front of the huge fridge door, Edie sensed a presence, someone near her, an uncanny sensation of being watched. She looked around. She couldn’t see anyone but knew that she was being spied on. A curl of excitement slid through her, that feeling of playing hide-and-seek as a child and knowing that you are about to be found and starting to giggle even as delicious fear slides through your veins.
She stood quite motionless for a moment. It must be Vuk, playing games with her. Big, bad, incredibly sexy Vuk, deputy manager, Vlad’s right-hand man – and Edie’s latest and most covetable conquest. The slither of fear turned to a frisson of excitement that began in her belly and spread tantalisingly outwards.
Then came a stifled giggle, audible even above the music and voices and laughter filtering through from the restaurant. Not Vuk then; someone female by the sounds of it. Edie turned rapidly around, took two great strides forward that brought her to the corner of the building where she halted, almost falling over, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the light. Her eyes recovered, she looked up. And came face to face with herself.
Or rather, with her twin Laura, who was standing there with a teasing, ‘how long does it take to get noticed around here’ look on her face, her perfect, pale pink rosebud lips drawn into a half-mocking, half-delighted smile, a tiny backpack dangling casually from one shoulder. Forgetting everything, her job, her customers, the Coca-Cola that was needed out front, Edie shot straight at her, hugging her vigorously and squealing incoherently in astonishment and excitement.
‘How did you get here? Where have you come from? How long are you staying?’ And then, ‘Is that all the stuff you’ve got with you?’ as she took in the minuscule size of Laura’s minimal luggage. Her excited questions poured out of her, leaving little time for her sister to respond.
But Laura wasn’t giving any answers anyway. She merely stood there, mute and smirking, letting Edie release her excitement unabated.
‘I was thinking about you only a few moments ago, I must have sensed you were nearby although I never thought you’d just turn up, I can’t even imagine how you found me, I didn’t exactly give you precise directions …’ Her voice tailed off as she took in Laura’s expression, the smirk having faded away and been replaced by a glassy-eyed stare.
‘Are you OK, sis?’ she asked, fear gripping her heart that Laura was really sick and had come to tell her so.
‘I’m fine, Ed,’ said Laura, wearily. ‘Just fine. But now I’m finally here and I’ve found you, I’ve hit the wall. I’ve been on the road since forever and I’m too tired to talk. I’ll explain everything later. But now …’ she held out her hand to Edie. ‘Room. Key. Sleep.’
Edie pulled her key from her shorts pocket, gave it to Laura and pointed her in the direction of the staff cabins at the back of the resort, quickly telling her the number of hers. She could hear a voice calling her from the bar, telling her to hurry back. But she waited a moment, watching Laura drift up the path that wound between the cabanas and through the olive grove. There was no one around, not a soul in sight, just the shimmer of a heat haze above the silver-leaved trees. Laura’s slim, lissom body sported a perfect tan and even after hours of travelling, her wavy brunette hair swung buoyantly around her shoulders as she gradually disappeared from view. It was exactly as Edie was so well aware. Laura was, had always been, the top twin.
A lizard scurried out from behind the garbage bins and straight over Edie’s toes, bare in her leather sandals. She squealed, just as the voice from the bar became louder and was suddenly right beside her.
‘What you doing, Edeeee?’ It was Stefan, the bar and restaurant manager, who always pronounced her name with a few extra ‘e’ sounds at the end. ‘You been gone too long, you got three orders waiting.’
Edie shot a last glance after Laura, but she was no longer visible, swallowed up by the twists of the path and the sheltering tree branches.
‘Sure,’ she answered, flicking open the fridge, hauling out the Coca-Cola and pushing the door to with her foot. She wanted to go and hang out with her elusive sister, not get back to work. ‘I just noticed we were short of this stuff. I was only trying to help.’ She flashed a reproachful smile at Stefan, playing on the soft spot she knew he had for her.
‘Here, let me,’ said Stefan, pulling the crate from her hands. ‘I take it.’
He was too much of a gentleman, too calm and kind and far too beguiled, to get truly angry, despite her many failings. His entrancement was nothing less than she expected; she and Laura had learnt early in their teenage years the power that youth and beauty could wield. This translated now into the fact that Edie could get away with murder on Stefan’s watch. As Stefan lugged the crate of soft drinks back to the bar, she felt herself mellow, towards her job, the resort, everything. Her sister’s electric presence brought the promise of excitement that overrode the mundanity of working. Despite the feelings of inferiority that Laura unintentionally engendered in her, when Laura was around Edie instantly became a better, nicer, happier person. And of course there was always the impact of ‘double trouble’ to enjoy; the two of them together somehow held more than twice the allure of one twin on her own. They would have some fun in the next few days and weeks, for sure.
As the hours wore on, however, Edie lost hope that Laura, whose capacity for sleeping during the day was infinite, would reappear anytime soon. It was a shame, as she could have got some free food for her and had her nearby as she plunked baskets of bread and bowls of tomato salad, cups of coffee and bottles of beer onto the rough-hewn wooden tables. The up-market atmosphere meant plastic was kept to a minimum; Vlad wanted to create a rustic, authentic feel, but it was hard to eradicate almost half a century of Communism with a few artisan accoutrements and some things just weren’t quite right in Edie’s eyes. The restaurant still sported those naff metal dispensers that contained paper napkins so small and flimsy as to be good for nothing and Vlad had stared at her in utter bemusement when she had suggested serving beer in jam jars, as the trendiest places in London and Sydney did.
He’d had to concede to plastic chairs, though, as diners in bikinis had not appreciated splintered bottoms, but had confined these to the area at the front on the sand, keeping the wooden ones for the fully covered section, where people were expected to turn up with the semblance of being dressed. Of course by the end of every long night the chairs had invariably been moved and mixed up and one of Edie’s least favourite jobs was reorganising them all; she had about ten bruises on her legs from hefting around heavy, unwieldy lumps of pine. That was another legacy of Communism, Edie presumed; no concessions to ladies that they shouldn’t put their backs into physical work. Doing it really, really slowly was the only way she’d found of mitigating the situation but Vlad had got her number and threatened to put her on toilet-cleaning duty so she’d had to speed up a bit.
Slave driver Vlad was an enigma. His height was average – about 5 foot 10 – and he was dark like most people here, clean-shaven and well-groomed. His brown eyes burned bright in his thin face and seemed to be always scrutinising, judging, appraising; when he smiled, it did not reach them. He was slightly built but wiry – Edie had heard that he’d been a long-distance runner in his youth but that he hadn’t quite lived up to his promise and