Free Weeks in Naviras by Chris Wimpress

for that now, darling. Much better to put it all on one bill at the end. Less paper. Singles or twin?’
    Gail said it would be nice to have her own bathroom. ‘Excellent, singles it is,’ said Lottie. ‘Loo-eesh!’
    ‘Coming,’ called a Portuguese man’s voice from somewhere beyond the archway at the top of the wooden stairs.
    ‘Oh, I’m so, so, sorry I haven’t even asked your names,’ said Lottie. We gave them and she wrote them down, ‘Gail, Ellie, two singles, done.’ She stabbed the pen down onto the paper, marking a full stop before sticking the pen back in her hair. ‘Go upstairs with Luis and make yourselves at home.’
    A man appeared through the archway and immediately Lottie started talking to him rapidly in Portuguese, something about ‘cinco e seis’ was all I got.
    ‘Afternoon,’ said Luis, walking down the steps into the restaurant and not smiling. I didn’t realise it at the time, but it really wasn’t his job to show guests to their rooms. He was meant to manage Casa Amanhã, not serve as its bell-boy, but because it was so early in the summer Lottie hadn’t recruited any of her usual seasonal staff. He didn’t offer to take our bags, he merely gestured we should follow him up the creaky steps from the restaurant to the main guest-house, emerging in a small vestibule next to a larger stone staircase. It was a bit chilly in the rest of the house and not just because it was only April, Casa Amanhã was always surprisingly cool even in the height of summer. Despite the odd complaint from visitors Lottie never saw the point of installing air-con. ‘The ceiling fans work perfectly well, without all that ridiculous noise,’ she’d say.
    The vestibule was rather chaotic, with beach toys propped up against a black metal fireplace. To our right a low bookshelf, but it was hard to tell where it began and ended because it was festooned with paperbacks. They formed precarious towers on the top shelf, well-read, dog-eared and yellow.
    ‘You can help yourself to any of this stuff,’ said Luis absently, gesturing for us to follow him up the main staircase which ascended at right-angles. As I took my first steps up I noticed the stairs also went down another floor, but it was too gloomy to see where they led. At the second floor we stepped out onto the small landing. There were only two doors and Luis opened them both.
    ‘Here you go, ladies, you can just come down and ask Lottie if you need anything. Your towels are at the end of the bed. Did Lottie tell you about breakfast and stuff?’ We shook our heads and he tutted. ‘Of course, you know Lottie forgets to tell people all the simple things, like that breakfast is between nine and eleven.’ He said it lovingly. ‘Your keys are in the locks on the inside of the doors. You should leave the keys with Lottie if you’re going to the beach, because if you lose them she’ll charge you a hundred euro, okay? Have a fantastic stay.’
    He turned around and went back down the staircase. Gail said she fancied going down to the beach, maybe swimming in the sea? Hopefully that would sort out our hangovers, she said. We agreed to head back downstairs in ten minutes.
    I only stayed in that room once. Every other time I’d been right at the top, on the fourth floor. The view from Room Five wasn’t so impressive because the trees in the garden obscured the village. All I could see through the open French windows were the gardens and our car. But it was a nice room, even though I’d end up spending almost no time in it.
    I changed into my bikini, put a T-shirt and sarong over it and found my sandals. Gail was waiting for me outside my door when I opened it, saying she was keen to get into the sea. We thought we should hand in our keys before leaving, though, and headed back into the restaurant rather than straight out the front door of the guesthouse.
    Lottie wasn’t there, nor the other girl I’d seen earlier. Looking again at the dimly lit room I