VIVA ESPAÑA

Her knuckles turned white as Linda grabbed his arm. ‘Slow down, will you?’ she screamed. ‘Slow down!’

But Tom wasn’t listening, his eyes were solely focused on making their escape along the road ahead.

‘You’ll have us killed,’ she squealed as they took the corner at high speed.

‘It’s you that will have us killed, if you keep grabbing my arm like that. Let go of me, will you?!’ he countered.

Linda wrestled her seat-belt and checked back over her shoulder, where the road was now empty.

‘Do you think we’ve lost them?’

‘I think so,’ Tom replied, checking the mirror. ‘There’s no one following us now.’

Slowing down a little, he glanced across at her pale anguished face in the passenger seat.

‘You’re going to have to freshen yourself up a bit,’ he grimaced, looking at the red stains that were still spreading on the inside of the car. ‘It’s everywhere and it will take some explaining back at the hotel.’

‘You look in a far worse state than me,’ Linda retorted. ‘It’s absolutely everywhere. We’re going to have to get it cleaned up before we take the car back and anyone sees us like this.’

They’d left the hotel together earlier that morning with no idea of how their day was going to pan out.

The heat from the August sunshine was already quite oppressive as they’d enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together, where they could see from their table that the area around the pool was already full of sun worshippers soaking up the rays. Every lounger was taken, with nowhere free outside to sit and relax.

‘Well, I fancy doing something a bit more exciting today anyway,’ Linda smiled. ‘We had a lazy day around the pool yesterday. How about we go somewhere for a relaxing drive today instead, a bit further afield?’

Tom didn’t need much persuading. Any excuse to drive the plush open-top sports car they’d hired at reception yesterday.

With that thought in mind, they went back up to the room for the car keys and a local map, before setting off on their journey into the Spanish hills.

Linda and Tom were in their mid-fifties. The last of their children had now left home, and having recently paid off their mortgage, they were beginning to enjoy their newly found freedom together once again. They would normally have gone for a much cheaper and practical model, but Tom’s head had been turned by the allure of the white open-top sports car they’d seen in the brochure, something he’d never driven before, and as it purred along the roadside, he was pleased as punch with his choice.

‘This is the life,’ he gushed, his thinning head of grey hair blowing in the wind, as they left Valencia behind them and headed inland.

‘Do you have any idea where we’re going?’ Linda chuckled as she applied some suncream to her already wellbronzed arms.

‘No idea. Wherever the road takes us,’ Tom replied gleefully, and with a twinkle in his eye, put his foot down as the road opened up in front of them.

It was a glorious day, sailing through the countryside, their heightened senses taking in the sweet scent of olive trees and grape vines floating on the fresh mountain air, interrupted occasionally by the smell of Spanish cuisine from a passing roadside village begging to be explored.

But as they approached a quaint little town in search of a refreshing drink, the road suddenly got a whole lot busier, and they began to wish they’d headed somewhere different instead.

‘I can’t believe there’s so much traffic around a small town like this,’ Tom groaned. ‘This is worse than being in rush hour back home. What do all those signs mean?’

‘I’ve no idea, they’re all in Spanish,’ Linda sighed. ‘I wish I’d brought my phrase book now. I think there must be some kind of fruit market or festival going on. Try down there instead,’ she urged, pointing to a small cobbled side street on the right.

‘Do you think we’re allowed down there?’ Tom checked quizzically.

But the frustration of the queuing traffic ultimately got the better of him, and at the last minute, against his better judgement, he swerved the car past a no entry sign partly obscured by a stall selling nothing but fresh juicy tomatoes.

‘I’m not sure we should have come this way,’ he groaned, as the sudden chorus of car horns wailed in unison behind them.

‘I’m sure it’ll be alright,’ Linda assured. ‘You worry too much. Anyway, we can always blame it on not understanding the lingo.’

They followed the road round the tight shaded streets for a few minutes, eventually arriving at what appeared to be the main square, where they were suddenly halted by a rather large intimidating crowd in front of them.

Inadvertently they’d driven into the middle of the town’s summer fete, where several hundred people had gathered to throw tomatoes at each other, a local Spanish custom called La Tomatina, that had just started.

When the sports car arrived in their midst, Linda and Tom had immediately become the main focus for the tomatobaying crowd. Within seconds tomatoes were raining down on them thick and fast from all directions, bouncing off the car, until the gleaming white paintwork and immaculate leather upholstery had become a deep shade of red.

Tom swerved the car past a no entry sign

Tom’s futile attempts and gestures to get them to stop seemed to cause everyone around them great amusement, only making matters worse. Linda, Tom and the car were covered from head to toe in tomato juice, looking as though they’d been victims of a wild west shootout.

Eventually, Tom managed to complete the tight manoeuvre, and turned the car back around before driving off at top speed the way they’d come.

‘It’s your fault we turned down here anyway,’ he vented angrily, struggling to be heard above the sound of the windscreen wipers on overdrive clearing his vision of tomato skin and purée.

‘You’re the driver, not me,’ Linda responded indignantly, as they found their way back to the main road, now much clearer.

But it was a long and embarrassing drive back to the hotel, the silence between them heavy with tension, nothing like the relaxing outbound journey they’d enjoyed much earlier, and everyone along the way seemed to be staring at them.

‘Well, I hope that was an exciting enough day for you,’ Tom eventually managed to smile, as they pulled back up at the hotel and meekly tip-toed past reception, leaving a trail of what looked like blood-stained footprints behind them up to their room.

‘Yes, but I’d rather have a quiet day around the pool tomorrow instead,’ Linda smirked. ‘Maybe with a refreshing cocktail or two. And before you ask, it certainly won’t be a Bloody Mary!’