Chapter 2

I was twenty-one that summer, and I was making one of my twice yearly obligatory visits to my only surviving relatives. Uncle Ernie – my father's brother – and aunt Gertrude his matriarchal wife - and latterly my surrogate mother - at their rather grand hotel on the south coast.

To say my Uncle and Aunt were old fogies would be putting it mildly, but they had always been very good to me. Their hotel, set high on the cliffs overlooking a beautiful bay and its beaches, had been built back in Victorian times and nowt much had been changed since. That is if you disregard installing electricity and the indoor pool constructed inside what once had been, one of two large cast iron conservatories. Yeah, all right and all of the rooms and suites had had en-suite facilities added somewhere along the line as well. But the Hotel itself still had a staid Victorian atmosphere about it

I can't say the clientele had been much to my liking either; shades of the Raj and all that, when I was younger. With the Colonel, Brigadier or Major seeming to be the most common names bandied about. Okay, most of those old buggers had died off some years since, but almost all of the clientele still had that air of aloofness about them.

The really odd thing was - somewhat surprisingly to me – The Cliff Head always appeared to be pretty crowded, almost all the year round. I suppose it was the sort of place the rich went to when they wanted some peace and quiet. No, and I don't mean some hanky-panky; that wasn't the Cliff Head's scene at all. Although I suppose ... Bugger let's not bother going there.

Mind, most afternoons and evenings the tranquillity was somewhat disturbed by the appearance of a string quartet and/or a sort of geriatric combo in the Palm Court Lounge. The multi-purpose function room that served as tea dance venue during the afternoons and ballroom come lounge in the evenings. Some days there was usually some old bugger togged up in a dinner suite, bashing out tunes on the full-size grand. Not really what you could call my cup of tea; but it might give you some idea of the kind of place I'm talking about.

Yeah, you might gather that - as a young man - the Cliff Head Hotel had never been my favourite place in the world. Well, as Slim Dusty so eloquently put it "there's nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear, than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer". Just replace the "pub with no beer" bit, for the "Cliff Head Hotel" and that about sums the place up.

Anyway, on this particular day I was climbing up the stairs cut into the cliff face, after taking my morning dip in the sea. Yeah well, I had to find a reason to get out of bed in the before noon when I was at the Cliff Head. They are steep and narrow, so it was fairly hard going making the climb, after swimming out to the headland and back.

I had my head down just concentrating on the next very worn stone step, when suddenly a pair of naked legs with oddly expensive looking sandals on their feet, came into my field of vision. And, when I say legs here, I mean the sort of legs that no one in their right mind would have expected to find attached to a guest at the Cliff Head Hotel.

What's more they didn't belong to any of the female staff either, I'd studied all of them long and hard since my arrival. Shit, can I help it, if I'm a legman?

I of course stopped abruptly, or I would have charged into the body attached to those legs. Mind, as I raised my head to see whom actually was attached to them, I began to wish I had done just that.

Those legs led all the way up to a small pair of bikini briefs, we are talking brief briefs here, by the way. They were further attached to a lithe waist; just bellow a perfect – in my opinion – pair of breasts – possibly on the smallish side for your average tit man, but that ain't me – encased in a tiny bra that matched the briefs. Above which - supported on an elegant neck - was positioned a bright smile fixed onto the most enchanting face I'd ever seen. All nicely surrounded by slightly tussled looking and very long mop of jet-black hair.

"Sorry!" I said moving to the side of the stairs so that the vision could pass me.

"I can see you are." She smiled back at me, "Did I pass inspection?"

"Oh, I'm really sorry, but you're not ... Well, what I mean to say is, that you're young ... Oh damn it, this is the Cliff Head!"

She smiled again. "Yeah, I know what you mean; you're pretty young to be on the guest list here yourself. Or are you a member of the hotel staff?"

"No, I'm Gilroy Jameson, at your service; my uncle owns this morgue. I'm just visiting for a few days. Nearly everyone calls me Gil, but my friends usually call me JG.

"How do you do, Gil or JG; but shouldn't that be GJ?

"Could be, but for some unknown reason its always been JG; I kinda picked it up back at school. I suppose it slips off the tongue more easily."

"I see. Hello JG. If we were being formal, I'm Lady Minerva Wisdom, but we're not, so I'm Kylie!"

"Kylie?"

"Yes, Minerva ... Minogue ... Kylie; my girlfriends at school came up with it years ago. Minerva's too much of a mouthful, so all of my friends call me Kylie now." She appeared to lay extra emphasis on words 'my friends'. "I don't really look like a Minerva, do I?"

"I can't say I've ever met another Minerva. But how would you prefer I address you?

"Kylie, if you'd like to be a friend?"

That sounded like a stupid question from my perspective, but I made no comment about it to Minerva

"Kylie it is then. Are you going for a swim?"

Suddenly spending a little more time in the water sounded like really a good idea to me.

"Oh no, I'm sorry I'm meeting ... a friend for morning coffee on that yacht."

Kylie's eyes had moved from me to something in the bay behind me. The smile was still on her face; but later on later reflection, I thought I had perceived a slight change in her expression.

I looked in the direction she had gestured, only to find that the QE2 had anchored in the bay. It must have arrived as I was swimming back from the headland; I was surprised that I hadn't noticed the damn great thing.

"Yacht! It looks more like a bloody cruise liner to me."

"Yes, it is rather ostentatious isn't it? But that's what they are like. I'm sorry, I'd invite you to join us, but ... well, Fabian can be a little possessive on these occasions. And besides, he has his family with him. Perhaps, we will see each other later ... at dinner this evening, maybe?"

"I'll be there for dinner this evening Kylie."

She gave me that enchanting smile, yet again.

"Good. I hope I get the chance to join you; but I afraid, I can't promise. Now, I must get moving they are waiting. Bye JG!"

Then she skipped off down the precarious steps towards the waiting launch, that had obviously come from the yacht to collect her.

I stood watching as Kylie crossed the beach, placing a sarong she'd produced from somewhere around her waist as she went. Then she turned and gave me a little wave as the two smartly dressed crewmembers helped her aboard the launch. Which very smartly reversed away from the shore and then glided over the almost still water out to the anchored yacht.

"Jesus H Christ, what kind of money must that thing have cost?" I was thinking to myself as I watched Kylie climb aboard the yacht.

At that distance I could just make out, that Kylie looked in my direction again and only just perceivably raised her hand, to show she seen that I was still watching. Actually, that wave might have been wishful thinking. I was still standing on the stairs where we'd encountered each other.

Once Kylie had disappeared inside the yacht, I continued on up the staircase, thinking to myself, that this particular visit to the Cliff Head, might not be as bad -- or as boring -- as they usually were.

At the top of the stairs, I encountered a man. I kind-a got the feeling he'd been watching me coming up the cliff stairs; although, he appeared to be studying the yacht in the bay. I wasn't sure at the time, but I did get the feeling that he'd been watching Kylie as well, and had possibly witnessed our encounter.

I gave him a cheeky cheery "Good morning!" and received the same in reply. But maybe not loaded with the same enthusiasm that I'd injected into mine. But then, he hadn't just bumped into one of the most beautiful and charming young ladies in the world.

I was somewhat disappointed that I didn't see Kylie in the dining room that evening. As far as I could ascertain, she didn't show for an evening meal at all. I thought that possibly, she was still on the yacht anchored in the bay.

When I got the chance, I did ask aunt Gertrude about Kylie, and very strangely at first, she denied knowing whom I was talking about. But then, I remembered to call her Lady Minerva. Immediately my aunt's attitude changed and she warned me to stay well away from her at all costs.

"His lordship brings Lady Minerva down here specifically to keep her away from the hoi palloi JG. Regretfully the likes of us, aren't considered good enough for his lordship."

"Who the f ... hell is his lordship?" I asked.

"Watch your tongue young man! Your mother wouldn't like to have heard you using language like that!"

"Aunt G, please don't change the subject, who is his lordship?" I demanded.

But still Gertrude didn't let on in detail. She just surreptitiously gestured toward a group of people sitting in the Palm Court Lounge; one of whom, was the guy I'd seen watching Kylie from the cliff top earlier in the day. At the time I assumed that he was this so-called lord.

I was to discover later that I was wrong in that assumption; his lordship was one of the other people in the party. The guy I'd seen was some kind of a minder who was charged with keeping an eye on Kylie and who she mixed with.

But I still didn't know that - nor was I aware that Kylie was pretty nifty at giving the bugger the slip, when she wanted too – when very early the following morning she appeared as if from nowhere and joined me at my breakfast table. Although, I did sense a certain tension or nervousness in Kylie's demeanour, whilst we were in the dining room.