9pm in Book of summer

It was 9pm and the sweat was still rolling down my face. The bass is drumming and voices fill the air. Neon lights glow from the roof tops and brightly lit shops sell t shirts that tell me that when God made me, he was showing off, and I am not 60 but 18 with 42 years experience. There are bags and shiny trinkets, children fishing for crabs in the darkness and distant lights, shining from the day boats.
Then there is football! Always football. On the TV screen in all the bars.
Then there is raspberry Mojito. Crushed raspberries, crushed ice and mint and whatever else gives a Mohito its kick, topped with a sprig of mint.
Girls, tucking into giant plates of food or parading the streets in search of fun. So many friends, laughing and jolly together.
The walk back to the apartment, sweat still pouring down my face.
This morning we packed. The cases are sitting, our clothes rolled up, waiting for the last minute things.
I am ready to go home. 16 days of heat and sunshine. Of sitting by the pool and reading, or swimming or walking.
There have been the stresses of life. A granddaughter who is so Independant it is Scarey. Stamping her feet when she is not allowed.
Money when Peters usual transfer to my bank didn’t work (for his mortgage loan to cover his share of our endowment mortgage shortfall ) and he was in hospital so couldn’t try it again. The damage was done before I knew, so pointless worrying about it, and a phone call put my mind at rest. Money again, knowing I was paying for more than my share of our food shopping, because Naomi wasn’t there or didn’t have money. We had said we would have a floating kitty, but that didn’t work out. We haven’t eaten out as often as I would have liked. I always felt we had to be careful. But we have had good times. Restful.
We fly at 10.25 pm arrive London Gatwick at 1.15am having out our watches back 2 hours. We have a hotel at the airport booked and in the morning we will see Susanne and the boys.
We had hoped to do that on the way here but our flight was delayed so long, it got too late. I hope it doesn’t happen today.
Then fly home to Belfast tomorrow evening.
To be faced with chaos and cats and kittens .
And my boy. Jonny is home. For a few days I hope before he heads off on his holiday then back to his ship.