Going Dutch
A short love story.
Jill spoke good Spanish. She’d been holidaying in Spain for many years and thought it wise to
learn the language. Now living here since her divorce her plan was to eventually look for work.
With a number of care agencies in the area, the rising age of the ex-pat population and her UK
work experience, Jill didn’t expect to encounter any problems in finding a job. But for now, money
wasn’t an issue. She needed a little time to relax, to get used to being single and doing things just
for her. The Coblanca dating club had been around for as long as she could remember and it had
a good reputation, so Jill decided to register with them. She was looking for someone to help fill
those long and balmy Spanish evenings, nothing serious though, just a little company every now
and again. It got lonely here at times. She missed her husband, maybe even still loved him, even
though he’d cheated on her for most of their married life.
‘Yes. I agree that he sounds lovely, but…’ Jill sighed. She had called the dating club to
cancel the arrangement, afraid to go through with it. ‘It’s just that I’m a bit edgy about it. Now I’ve
actually got the chance to meet someone I’m really nervous. He’s also fourteen years older than
me – that’s quite an age gap.’
‘Honestly, it’s natural to feel like that. Lots of women, and men too, feel nervous,’ replied
the voice on the other end of the telephone, having picked up on Jill’s panic. ‘But listen to me, okay.
Please don’t worry. Just go along and enjoy your evening together. I’m sure he’s as uptight about
this first meeting as you are. You’ll be fine when you get there. Trust me. I’ll call you tomorrow to
see how it went.’
Jill put down the receiver and walked through to the bedroom. Glancing at her watch she
noted she had almost five hours until their arranged meeting at an elegant restaurant down on the
coast. By a quick reckoning it would take an hour and ten minutes to drive there and park the car
- she didn’t want to be late as this would add to her fretfulness. This gave her at least three and a
half hours to prepare; to take her time. She wanted to look her best.
Exiting the pool Jill draped a white towelling bathrobe around her goose-pimpled body.
She now needed to shower and prepare for “the big date”.
The fitted design of her knee length red dress with its wide neckline would rest on her shoulders.
‘Yes, I will wear this tonight,’ Jill whispered to herself, knowing it would show off her
carefully maintained figure. Her short brown hair was shaped into the back of her neck. It had a
natural curl. Her skin was bronzed from the Spanish sun and her body was still as firm as when
she first married Mike twelve years ago. Mike. She missed him, still wanted him.
‘Bastard. Lying, cheating bastard.’ Jill spat out the words as if he was stood right there
next to her. ‘I don’t need you anymore.’ She had never expected that the only man she had ever
loved would betray her. ‘I hope you rot in hell.’
Turning first to her left and then to her right Jill inspected herself in the wrought iron cheval mirror
which stood on the floor near to the balcony door, pleased with the flawless image staring back
at her. Red seemed to be her colour of choice whenever she felt anxious, drawing strength