The Second Son Page 4

  As soon as Grenville stood on the top step of the ladder leading down to the ground to the waiting bus, the moisture was sucked from his body, and he started to sweat. The heat was intense and before he had reached the bottom step he was red-faced and breathing heavily. Grenville considered himself fit, but this heat just seemed to suck the life from him. Grenville looked over at Jonathan, who smiled and look just as bad as he did.

  Boarding the bus to take them to the baggage reclaim and customs, Grenville was pleased the flight had not been packed, as being pushed into a metal tube like a load of sardines was not an appealing thought. Grenville and Jonathan sat at an open window, but as the bus moved off, realised the wind the bus’s forward momentum was producing was not cooling, but producing more hot air which made them sweat even more. Grenville had only been in the country for twenty minutes, but he felt more tired than he had ever been in his entire life. The heat seemed to drain the body of moisture and energy, leaving him feeling lethargic.

  Sitting waiting for their baggage, Jonathan said, “Glad you came.”

  “Will let you know if you have a career as a tour operator tomorrow,” said a laughing Grenville. Eventually their backpacks arrived, and they went to stand in line for customs. Customs was not as big an ordeal as they first thought, the customs official looked bored and only glanced at the passports before waving them through without a smile or a word.

  Outside the airport was a busy hectic place as all international airports are, but they finally found the taxi rank, and queued up for a taxi. Being third in line they did not have to wait for long. The taxi pulled up and the taxi driver jumped out and opened the boot. With a wide grin, he said, “Welcome to Belize,” in English.

  Grenville said, “Can you take us to the Hotel Americano?”

  “Of course,” said the grinning taxi driver. Both Grenville and Jonathan climbed into the back of the taxi, and realised as the windows were down there was no air conditioning; then again, air conditioning was the least of their worries, as the taxi had no seat belts either, and the reason the windows were down was that they had no handles.

  Grenville thought this taxi in the UK would not have passed an MOT, or be allowed on the road with other traffic, let alone be licenced to carry passengers. Then again, he wondered if Belize had such things. This was the start of many amazing comparisons they both made daily. As the taxi pulled off into the traffic, they both quickly realised that indicators were not used in Belize; also, Grenville was sure the taxi driver had the brake wired into the horn, as they never slowed but honked a lot as they weaved their way through the heavy traffic.

  Turning to Jonathan, Grenville asked, “So where did you find this hotel?”

  “Well, I did not actually find it, it was recommended to me by a friend of a friend,” replied Jonathan. Grenville stared out of the window at the city speeding past, and wondered for the first time if this trip had been a good idea.

  As the taxi pulled up outside the Hotel Americano, Grenville noticed it was a large white marble imposing building, built in the American 1920s style. Jonathan paid the taxi driver, who assured them if they needed a city guide to ring the number on the card that he passed Jonathan.

  Entering the building, the interior was decorated, as Grenville suspected, in the American 1920s style. It reminded Grenville of the early black and white Hollywood films. Before they both had a chance to get to reception, a man dressed as a 1920s-film star with a white tuxedo, black tie, hair creamed down, and a pencil moustache approached them. Grenville tried not to laugh, as he thought the man had watched Casablanca too many times.

  “Welcome to the Hotel Americano,” said the man. “I am Miguel, the manager and your host during your stay.”

  “Thank you,” said Jonathan and Grenville, shaking Miguel’s hand.

  “Please, let us get you settled in,” said Miguel, pointing to the reception desk.

  At the reception desk, they both handed over their passports to register. The girl behind the desk was very proficient and its only took minutes to register. Miguel hoovered in the background while his receptionist registered them both. Once completed and both clutching their relevant room keys, Miguel showed them to the hotel lifts, all the time keeping up a running commentary on Hotel Americano. At the lift, just as Grenville suspected, there was a young man dressed in a purple suit, with a pill box hat sat at a rakish angle.

  To both their surprise Miguel accommodated them into the lift, and said to the lift operator, “Fourth floor, if you please, Samuel,” who replied, “Of course sir, please hold on gentlemen,” as the lift proceeded to the fourth floor.

  Stepping from the lift and thanking the operator, Miguel turned left towards their respective rooms. Miguel stopped at a door and turned to Jonathan and held out his hand for his key, which Jonathan handed over. Unlocking, he stood back to allow Jonathan to enter first. Turning to Grenville, Miguel once again held out his hand for the key, and repeated the process for Grenville. Miguel followed Grenville into the room. Grenville smiled. The room was large and airy, and the bed looked comfortable, but best of all he heard the deep humming of air conditioning, and felt the cold blast of air.

  Turning to Miguel, Grenville said, “My dear chap this is exquisite, and will do me perfectly,” in his best English upper class accent.

  Miguel beamed his brightest smile, and bowed. “Glad to be of service, my Lord.” This made Grenville smile. Passing Miguel, a folded Belizean ten-dollar note, Grenville said, “I am sure your establishment will be most welcoming.” Miguel turned to see how Jonathan had fared; both Miguel and Grenville found Jonathan sitting on his bed with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

  Miguel gave a light cough, to which made Jonathan open his eyes and smile at them both.

  “All OK?” said Grenville before Miguel had chance to speak.

  All Jonathan said was, “Air con,” which made them both laugh. Miguel stood looking at the two laughing Englishmen, not getting the joke. Jonathan stood and handed Miguel a folded Belizean ten-dollar note.

  Miguel bowed again to Jonathan, and said, “Gentlemen if you ever require my assistance, please do not hesitate to let one of my staff know.” Bowing again, Miguel turned and left the room.

  “Well,” said Grenville, “things are looking up.”

  “Very nice,” said Jonathan.

  “He seemed a bit attentive,” said Grenville.

  “Sorry,” said Jonathan, “that might be down to me, he might have gotten the impression you were the Duke of Hampshire. When I booked the rooms, thought it might add some weight to a decent room,” said a smiling Jonathan.

  Grenville looked at Jonathan and smiled. “To get decent air con in the rooms, my old dear chap, you did the correct thing,” said Grenville, mimicking his father’s voice. Both rolled on the bed laughing.

  “So, what you want to do now?” asked Jonathan.

  “To tell you the truth old thing, I am rather tuckered. Could do with a few hours in the sack,” replied Grenville.

  Jonathan looked relieved. “I am so pleased you said that. I am tuckered myself.”

  “Good, then,” said Grenville standing up, “speak to you later.”

  “Good, sound like a plan. Tomorrow we will explore this tropical land,” said Jonathan, laughing.

  “Indeed,” said Grenville, as he closed Jonathan’s door behind him.

  Grenville awoke unsure of the time. His watch was still set on UK time; all he knew was that it was daylight, so that did not give him any idea. He sat trying to figure out the time zone difference between UK and Belize, when there was a light knock on his door. Grenville went across and opened his door on a refreshed looking Jonathan.

  “Morning,” said Jonathan, as Grenville stepped aside to allow him to enter.

  “Sleep well?” asked Jonathan.

  “Like the proverbial log,” replied Grenville. “I was trying to work out the time.”

  “The UK are seven hours ahead of Belize, old man,” said Jonath
an.

  “Knew you’d know, swot,” said a laughing Grenville.

  Grenville looked at his watch. “Give it here your useless, and let me change it for you,” said Jonathan. Grenville took off his watch and handed it to Jonathan. Jonathan changed the time and handed it back to Grenville. Grenville looked at the time before putting it back on and noticed it was only seven thirty. “Morning,” said Jonathan, as if he’d read Grenville’s mind.

  Grenville smiled and said, “Excellent, good chap. Think we should try and find some breakfast, I am famished.”

  “Same here,” said Jonathan.

  Grenville and Jonathan walked to the lift and pressed the button for down. In minutes the lift arrived, and the lift doors opened with a smiling Samuel. Samuel indicated for them both to enter the lift. Still smiling, Samuel asked, “Your destination, gentlemen?” which made Jonathan giggle.

  “Wherever breakfast is being served, my good man,” said Grenville.

  Samuel saluted, closed the doors and pressed the down button. The lift stopped at the lobby and Samuel opened the door, and said, “Dining facilities to the right, gentlemen,” pointing in the direction they needed to go. Thanking Samuel, they both made their way to the dining room.

  They were met by a pretty girl dressed in a bright yellow dress. “Good morning, my dear,” said Grenville, smiling.

  The girl smiled back and said, “Good morning gentlemen, your room numbers please.”

  Both Grenville and Jonathan showed her their room keys, which made her smile. “This way please gentlemen,” said the girl. Both followed her into a pleasant, well lit, clean dining room. Each table was set with a crisp white table cloth, cups and plates of white with cutlery. The girl showed them to a two-seater table near the back of the area. Once they were seated, she produced a pad and pencil from her pocket, smiled and said, “Tea or coffee?”

  Both in unison they said, “Coffee.”

  The girl smiled, and said, “Cereal, milk, fruit juice and normal fruit on the table over on the right and on the left, are cooked items, if you want anything else please ask.”

  Just as she was leaving, Grenville asked, “What about toast?”

  The girl said, “The breads at the end of the cooked items, toaster is there as well.”

  “Thank you,” said Grenville to the departing girl’s back. Within a few minute the girl returned with a large pot of coffee, milk and sugar. She placed them on the table between Grenville and Jonathan, and then departed without speaking.

  “Shall I be mother?” said Jonathan, smiling.

  Grenville nodded, while he looked the place over. “Not many in for breakfast,” remarked Grenville.

  “I would suppose as it’s only seven-thirty, most other guests have already acclimatised to the time zone and come at a more leisurely time,” said Jonathan, smiling.

  “You could be on to something there,” said a smiling Grenville.

  After sipping their coffees, Grenville said, “Shall we go check out what Hotel Americano has to offer?”

  “Absolutely, lead the way old chap,” said Jonathan, standing. As they approached the hot food, Jonathan said, “Sure smells nice.” The presentation of the food was top class; there were full English breakfast items, including kippers and black pudding.

  “Just like home,” said Grenville.

  “Might be for your upper classes, but for us lowly middle classes its looks like heaven,” replied Jonathan.

  Grenville laughed. “You mean you don’t breakfast like this every morning?” teased Grenville.

  “Only when I visited your poor establishment,” said Jonathan, laughing; on many occasions Jonathan, had been lucky to have been invited to Hampton Hall.

  After a slow leisurely breakfast, both deciding to go back for seconds, and ordered another pot of coffee. They were deciding on what to do with their day. Jonathan sat and studied the tour guide he had purchased before leaving England. “Well, what you fancy?” he asked Grenville.

  “To tell you the truth old boy, I am not really bothered,” replied Grenville.

  “You are not regretting coming, are you?” asked Jonathan.

  Grenville smiled. “Not at all my dear chap, just this heat is a bugger, not used to it yet, leaving me feeling rather lethargic, if you know what I mean.”

  “Of course,” replied Jonathan, smiling. “OK, let’s just do a nice relaxing city tour on foot, until we get bored or tired and come back.”

  “Sounds like a plan, my dear Jonathan,” said Grenville, smiling.

  As they left the hotel the first thing they both noticed was the heat; even now this time of the morning it was stifling, and with no breeze it was soul sucking. They followed the street map Jonathan had; they leisurely strolled about the city exploring the sites, stopping now and again for a rest and to take in the sights. The place was busy. The pollution levels from traffic sometimes made them both feel unwell and they would stop at a road side café for a coffee or a cold drink.

  They wandered up to the local market, which like any other market anywhere in the world was a hive of activity selling everything that could be imagined. Jonathan and Grenville both looked for gifts for home. Grenville was not surprised when Jonathan was in his element when he haggled over a price. Grenville decided to leave the negotiations to Jonathan; he told Jonathan what he would like and Jonathan went into action, normally coming away with a good price. Afterwards Jonathan told Grenville, “The art is not to show emotion, always keep your price in your head and remember as the buyer you are in the better position.” Grenville was amazed at Jonathan and if the truth be told was always a little envious of his friend’s oration talents. After the first day, it was Jonathan who took charge in the planning of their days; not a role he was used to, but Grenville was happy to allow Jonathan the lead.

  One night they were sitting in the bar after dinner, when two Americans came in who they had become on nodding terms with.

  “May we join you?” one asked.

  Both Grenville and Jonathan stood, and Jonathan replied, “Please sit down, can I get you a drink?”

  “Sounds good, two beers would be nice.”

  Jonathan waved at the barman and placed four fingers up, and got a wave back to say he had been understood.

  “Let me introduce myself. I am Jonathan and this is Grenville,” said Jonathan, holding out his hand.

  “Tony and Josh,” replied the Americans.

  After they had all shook hand and the drinks arrived, Jonathan said, “We are from England.”

  “No shit Sherlock,” said Tony, laughing. “We can tell by your accent, very British.”

  “I am from common stock, but Grenville here is from blue blood, the aristocracy,” said Jonathan, slapping Grenville on the shoulder. “The son of a duke, no less.”

  Both Tony and Josh stared at Grenville, not sure what to say or do. Jonathan always loved the fact that one of his closest friends was blue blooded; he was never tired of telling people about Grenville, at times much to Grenville’s embarrassment.

  “So, what do we call you, your grace? My lord?”

  “Please, it’s just Grenville. My father is titled, I am only his second son and have no title, so please just plain Grenville.”

  Tony bowed his head in acknowledgement. “So, Grenville, what brings you to Belize?”

  “Just a bit of an adventure while on summer break from university,” said Grenville.

  “Same here” said Josh.

  “What part of the States you from?” asked Jonathan.

  “Boston,” replied Josh.

  “Never been to the States,” said Jonathan.

  “Perhaps one day you will,” replied Tony.

  “You been anywhere interesting, since you’ve been here?” asked Jonathan.

  “Yes, we’ve just come back from a three-day trip to a place called Punta Gora, it’s down south of the country, on the coast, run down but friendly. You should try it,” replied Josh, with Tony nodding in agreement.

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sp; “How you get there?” asked Grenville.

  “Small island hopper plane,” replied Tony. Grenville looked at Jonathan and saw him wince at the small plane part. Grenville smiled. Jonathan was beginning to dread travel.

  “We stayed in a really nice B&B right on the beach, at high tide it comes right up to your door,” said Josh.

  “Sounds idyllic,” said Jonathan.

  “Cheap as well,” said Tony.

  “Isn’t everything in this country?” laughed Jonathan. The other three agreed with Jonathan.

  Tony ordered another beer, and saluted the Brits, to which Grenville said in his best accent, “To the colonies,” which made everyone laugh.

  Next day Grenville and Jonathan made their way down to the City Airport to see about a flight to Punta Gora. Both had decided to give it a go and have a break from the city and to spend some time on a beach would become a happy change for them both. At the airport, they managed to book a seat on the next available flight tomorrow morning leaving at nine am. “On the dot,” said the man behind the counter, making it clear to them both that the plane would not wait. Obviously, they had had people book in the past and not show, so waiting was not an option they did anymore.

  Jonathan and Grenville were at the City Airport by eight thirty, ready to go. Since breakfast Jonathan had not said a lot; then again Grenville noticed that Jonathan had had very little breakfast apart from a pot of coffee. A tall well-dressed man appeared dressed as a pilot with a cap on; he stood in front of them and said, “Flight BE125 to Punta Gora is ready for boarding,” in a loud voice. Grenville looked around and there were only five people sitting in the reception area waiting for the plane, which made Grenville smile. “Please follow me,” said the man, all five followed the tall well-dressed man out to a waiting Cessna two prop plane.

  Grenville felt Jonathan tense next to him; Grenville leaned over and whispered to Jonathan, “Chin up, old bean.” Jonathan just stared ahead, white faced. Grenville allowed the two women and one local man to board first, then they climbed into the seats behind the pilot, and were luckily enough to see out of the cockpit window.