Extract from my book 'Corpalism'

The Holiday

Martin slid the metallic green Ford Escort into one of the parking bays; he’d had a free choice and had decided on the one directly outside the building.

“It isn’t very big, is it,” said his companion, a statement rather than a question.

“Well, maybe it’s deep rather than wide, deceptive, you know.”

“Are you sure it’s a proper hotel? It looks more like a B&B to me.”

“It’s a hotel, Laura,” stated Martin, “it’s definitely a hotel.”

“How do you know?” pressed Laura.

“Because I looked up hotels; it’s a 4 star one as well.” He mentally crossed his fingers; he’d been put onto this place by a bloke at work.

“Really?” said Laura, “then the service must be really good because that just looks like a B&B to me.”

“Alright, I get it” he sighed, reaching for her hand, “look, let’s just unload the car and go in and have a look, shall we? I’m sure it’s bigger than it looks from outside.”

Laura exited the car, swinging her legs out, knees together as she’d read somewhere was the right way to do it. Given the brevity of her skirt and the fullness of her hips it was good advice. She watched as Martin grabbed their suitcases from the boot of the car and together they made their way to reception. On entering even Martin had to admit the term ‘reception’ might be a bit grand to describe a very small counter surface in an equally small hallway.

“There’s no way this is a hotel,” said Laura, “I’m not staying here.”

“Look, just give it a chance ok, I’m sure it’ll all be fine, it’s definitely a hotel, it’s got to be.”

“It hasn’t got to be anything,” said Laura, “it is what it is, a bloody B&B, Martin.”

Martin closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, ‘not another row please’ ringing the bell for attention.

“Hello,” the short greasy looking man appeared as if from nowhere.

“Gawd,” said Martin, trying to laugh off his shock, “Where did you spring from? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The man sniggered and produced the guest book, “Do you have a booking?”

“Yes,” said Martin, firmly “name of Dowd, Martin Dowd and Laura Turnbull.”

The man gave Laura a knowing look which both she and Martin chose to ignore, this being the 21st Century and all, although Laura’s lips did tighten.

“The car park looked quite empty,” said Laura, “do you have any other guests at the moment?”

“Oh yes,” said the man, smoothly, “we have guests, several guests, and so if you’ll just sign here, I’ll get your key for you.” He disappeared into the next room.

“I don’t like it here, Martin,” hissed Laura, “and I don’t him one little bit.”

“For Christ’s sake, Laura, I’ve driven 5 hours to get here, give it a chance at least, won’t you.”

“It’s horrible,” she continued, “it’s grubby and I’m sure it’s just a B&B.”

The man returned, easing in front of them, “If you’ll just follow me,” he said with a sly smile. He led them up stairs to the first door on the landing, “this is your room sir, madam,” he said unlocking the door and passing Martin the key, “if you unpack and make yourselves comfortable I will show you around.”

“Right,” said Martin.

The man went back downstairs and Martin and Laura entered the tiny room.

“This is terrible, Martin, this isn’t a proper room, it’s a box room. I’m telling you this isn’t a bloody hotel… and it smells damp.”

“Just give it a try, will you?”

She stood with hands on hips and stared at him.

“Please, Laura, just give it a chance will you and I promise if it’s really crappy we’ll leave ASAP, okay?”

Laura bit her lip, “Okay, if you promise.”

“I promise, baby…look there’s no way I’d take you to a tip knowingly is there? Come on sweetheart, let’s just try and make the best of things.” He gestured round, nearly knocking over a lamp in the reckless expansiveness of the motion, “you never know, it could be really cool here.”

Laura softened her position, smiling up at him and they cuddled as best they could in the tiny gap between the bed and the wardrobe.

“I know what,” said Martin, sensing her mood change and striking quickly, “let’s just dump our stuff under the bed, strip off and go straight down and check the place out, shall we?”

“What?” said Laura, “and not unpack?”

“Why unpack?” said Martin, raising his eyebrows up and down and muttering French noises “this is a nudist resort, we won’t need any clothes here, will we.”

Laura smiled nervously, “okay, but just remember I’m not at all sure about any of this, I’ve never been to a nudist place before.”

“Don’t worry,” said Martin, truth be told, neither had he, but bravado is all, “it’s gonna be fine.”

They made their way downstairs to reception where the man was waiting. His eyes widened when he looked at Laura and she could’ve sworn she saw him dribble.

“Hi,” said Martin, aiming for ‘I do this every day’ nonchalance, “you said something about showing us round?”

“Yes, yes,” said the man, his mouth working in a particularly unedifying way, “er…erm, if you’d like to just follow me.”

They travelled a few feet along the narrow corridor, “This is the communal room,” he waved his arm in an arc to indicate a room, all of 12’ by 12’, crammed with furniture. Apart from the six armchairs and two settees, the room was completely empty.

“Right,” said Martin. “What do you think?” he addressed Laura. She stared at him in a ‘get me out of here’ kind of way.

“And if you’ll just let me squeeze by,” said the man, and putting word to deed, he brushed past Laura’s breasts making, what may or may not have been avoidable, definite contact, “this is the dining area.”

He pointed into the room across the hallway; another small room, this one about 10’ by 10’, similarly full of furniture, this time small tables and dining chairs, and again, entirely bereft of people. Martin peered round the door and smiled nervously.

“What’s it like, Martin?” asked Laura irritably from the hallway.

“It’s alright,” said Martin, “you’ll like it.”

“And if you’ll follow me,” said the man, speaking to Laura’s breasts, “I’ll show you the summer house.”

They walked four paces further down the hallway, took a sharp left and entered a tiny wooden lean to, also empty.

Laura fixed Martin with her best ‘you are dead when we get out of here’ stare.

“Now, if you’ll follow me outside,” said the man, “I’ll show you where the rest of the guests usually congregate.”

Martin felt a moment of sudden relief, ‘of course, they’re all outside, that’s why there’s no-one inside, they’re all outside catching some rays.’ He caught Laura’s eye and shivered, clearly her thoughts were not the same as his.

They exited the building, crossed a tiny patio and stood on a small lawned area behind the garden shed, which for some reason was in the middle of the garden. “This is where most people like to meet up.” said the man. The area was deserted.

“Er…erm,” said Martin, “so where are they?”

“I’m sorry?” said the man, tilting his head to one side, surveying Laura from an angle.

“The other guests,” said Martin, “where are they?”

“Oh,” said the man, “they’re all in town shopping at the moment, you know, souvenirs and all that sort of thing.”

“Souvenirs,” said Laura irritably.

“Why yes, madam,” said the man, “it’s the last day for some of our guests and I think I overheard them saying they wanted to take something home to remind them of their wonderful stay.”

“Really?” said Laura disbelievingly.

“Would you like some refreshments?” he asked, his eyes fixed glassily on Laura.

She made to cover herself with her hands, cursing her ample curves. “Martin,” she hissed.

Martin slipped in front of her, trying not to be too obvious and uncool. She prodded him sharply, “er… are you staring at my girlfriend?” he asked.

“No sir,” said the man defensively, “I was just erm, would you like a cup of something?”

“Tea,” stated Martin.

“Of course, sir,” said the man, “and madam?”

Laura nodded, “Same.”

“Two teas it is, then,” said the man, “where would you like them?”

“In the dining area,” said Martin.

The man left them alone.

“We are not staying here, Martin,” said Laura.

“Look, just give it a chance, will you?”

“No,” said Laura.

“Look, what if we wait inside until the other guests
return and see what they have to say about it,” said
Martin, “I mean, if they’re really in town getting souvenirs then they must’ve liked it.”

“How could you even imagine that they liked it?” demanded Laura, “this is a dive, and he’s a bloody pervert, Martin.”

“Give it go, will you…for me? ...let’s just wait and see what the other guests have to say?”

Laura stared at him, she was ready to hit him but somehow controlled her temper, for one thing she’d look ridiculous fighting in the nude and in truth she was at his mercy because she hadn’t passed her driving test, it was his car and they were miles from the station, at least that’s what he’d told her. Five minutes later they were sitting at the table nearest the window of the dining room. The view of the road was not very prepossessing but Laura discovered if you looked upwards you could see a patch of blue sky and watch the birds flying around. She did this, ignoring Martin’s efforts at conversation and gradually started to relax. The man arrived with the tea and once again ogled her breasts. Immediately annoyed she asked, “Are there no waitresses here?”

“It’s her day off,” said the man.

“Just the one waitress then?” asked Laura.

“Yes madam.”

“That’s a bit strange isn’t it,” said Laura, “for a hotel, I mean.”

‘Not the bloody B&B thing again,’ thought Martin.

“Well we’re just a small hotel really, madam,” said the man, “for a special clientele as you can imagine.”

Laura smiled thinly and Martin smirked inside, ‘Gotcha,’ he thought. When the man had left the room he said, “See, it’s small because it’s for a small group of people like us, nudists.”

“I still don’t like it, Martin, he’s creepy, this place is creepy, and the furniture’s creepy…”

“The furniture’s creepy?” repeated Martin.

“Yes, Martin,” said Laura, “and don’t take the piss.”

“I’m not; it’s just that I can’t see how furniture can be creepy.”

“Well, fuck you, Martin,” said Laura. Just then they heard the front door open and women’s voices. “Right now we’ll see.”

A few minutes’ later two elderly women, one as wide as she was tall, the other skinny and angular, both laden with numerous shopping bags, entered the room. They were both fully clothed (thank the lord) short coats, floral dresses and large sun hats. They were deeply engrossed in conversation and didn’t notice Martin and Laura. They removed their hats and coats and settled down to talk. The man came over to their table, they ordered two cream teas and he left.

“God,” hissed Martin, “what are they doing here? Why would they come to a nudist’s colony?”

“Martin,” snapped Laura, “they’re dressed.”

“Well of course they are,” said Martin leaning over, “they’ve been in town shopping, haven’t they. It’s not a nudist town is it? Anyway aren’t you relieved that they are dressed, I mean, can you imagine?”

Laura frowned, pinched her lips, crossed her arms and stared out the window.

Martin poured the tea.

Laura leaned over to him, “Well, aren’t you going to ask them?”

“Ask them what?” said Martin.

“What they think of this shit tip,” snapped Laura.

“No, I’m not,” said Martin, “look at them, why would I ask them? They have to be 90 if they’re a day.”

Laura looked over at the two women who had now stopped talking and were both staring at Martin and Laura. Laura smiled her nicest smile. Martin nodded and smiled too. The women continued to stare open mouthed, and then they stood, collected their hats, coats and bags and left the room just as the man returned with their tea and scones. He followed them into the hallway where there was some commotion.

“What do you think that was all about?” asked Martin.

Laura stared at him, “Martin,” she snapped “are you going to ask someone or what?”

“Well, I’m not going to ask them.”

“Why not?” demanded Laura.

“Because I’m not,” stated Martin.

“Well you’d better bloody well ask someone,” hissed Laura, “and you’d better ask them soon or else I’m leaving.”

“I will,” said Martin, “as soon as someone turns up.”

As he spoke a young boy strolled into the room; Martin tagged him as about sixteen mostly from the rampant acne. He was fully dressed; he stopped dead in his tracks, stared at Laura, eyes widening and then left the room. Moments later he returned with two other teenage boys, also fully dressed. They sat at the table next to the couple and stared at Laura.

“Do you mind, boys?” said Martin.

One of the boys coughed a bit and turned away, continuing to sneak quick peeks but the others maintained a steady stare.

“Martin,” hissed Laura, “I’m getting really fed up here, you’d better do something fast or I’m going to explode, okay?”

“Alright,” said Martin, “Hey kids, where’re your folks?”

“Er…er..,” stammered the nearest boy.

“Um…umm,” started the fattest boy.

“My mum’s in the other room,” said the acne-ridden boy.

“Martin,” pressed Laura.

“Okay, okay, I’ll ask her,” Martin said, disappearing.

The three boys took his leaving as an invitation to ogle Laura openly. She did her best to cover herself with a napkin, parts of the table cloth, her arms and hands and legs and whatever else she could think of.

Moments later Martin returned, “Quick, we’re leaving, come on, and you lot can fuck off.”

“What is it, Martin?” asked Laura as they ran upstairs, dressed, grabbed their bags and raced downstairs again.

The man appeared at the reception desk and Martin went right up to his face, “This isn’t a hotel is it,” he said aggressively, “this isn’t even a bloody B&B; this is your mum’s house. Those old ladies, one’s your mum and the other’s her friend. The woman in the next room’s your sister and those kids are your sister’s son and his mates… well?” The man stared at him, open mouthed. “And it isn’t a nudist colony is it? Is it?”

“Now dear,” said one of the old ladies, the short, wide one, waddling down the hallway, “there’s no need to get so excited, is there?”

“Excited,” snapped Martin, “excited, this is meant to be a hotel, a nudist hotel at that.”

“Well it is kind of a hotel,” said the old lady, “My Norman always wanted to run a hotel so I said he could turn the house into one, I just didn’t know he wanted to run a nudist hotel.”

Martina and Laura stared open mouthed.

“But now we know, we don’t mind at all, do we, Daphne?” she continued, calling to her friend who was in the dining room, “we’re all more than willing to join in to make everyone feel comfortable.” Just then Daphne appeared from the dining area, completely naked, looking somewhat like a giant leek, with shiny white skin stretched thinly over sharp bones.

Martin paled visibly and dry retched. Laura left by the front door as fast as she could.

“Oh look, dear,” said the man’s mum, “Look, here’s June.”

The man’s sister, all too clearly weighing something in the region of 20 stone, appeared naked from the communal room.

“Oh fuck,” mumbled Martin.

“Come through to the communal room with us, dear,” said the man’s mum, grabbing Martin by the hand and dragging him off.

Daphne grabbed his other hand and together they propelled him along. June came towards him hands outstretched and commenced undoing his shirt buttons. Martin found himself trapped between the naked forms of Daphne and June whilst the proprietor’s mum stripped off. He gulped down a little bit of vomit.

Laura waited at Martin’s car. The front door remained resolutely closed; no way was she going back in there. She kicked the rim of the nearside wheel, turned and stormed off, shouting, “Right, you’re so dumped, you prick,” as she went.