I stepped over the doorway to look for myself. I checked left, then right. To both sides the other apartments were all in darkness. There was a warmth on the air, a humidity we would never experience back home. I could hear the distant lapping of the sea beyond. It didn’t sound peaceful and calming to me, it sounded urgent, like some relentless force, pushing and pulling. I stepped out and had a look along the path, past the palm trees. It was hard to see, but the route towards the front of the hotel looked quiet too. There was nothing outside my room that scared me. It was what was inside that did.
I went silently back in. I thought I was going to vomit again and took in huge deep breaths to quell my stomach. I needed a spliff. Although, in this situation, it would have been sure to make me whitey. We quietly continued with our horrific task. Richard mouthed, ‘one, two, three,’ and we began to lift him out of the apartment. As we passed over the threshold, I thought I was going to pass out. Yes, the weight of a dead body is as heavy as they say. But it was the mental realisation of what I was doing that got me. We crept along at a very slow pace, it would have been difficult to go much faster. I carried from him where his feet were underneath, Richard at his head. We both were breathing heavily, our arms straining. We also both flicked our heads back and forth, searching for anyone around – like we were seated in the centre of a tennis court. The hotel grounds were eerily quiet, a harsh contrast to the hot sun and bustling pleasure seekers of the daytime. The night was cool and heavy with the weight of death that we were carrying. Somehow we made it down the outside steps, down to the ground floor.
“There’s someone awake,” I whispered at once and we paused. I nodded to a light on in one of the apartments we were approaching. There was also the hum of muffled voices from a television set. It was the last apartment in the decked area we had just come onto after turning up from my row. A few more rows after it and we would be at the back of the hotel. Any other route and we would have to do a massive loop. We just needed to make it past these ones.
We set Ivan down and Richard rubbed his palm across his face before resting his palms on his hips. He considered the scene.
“C’mon Vicky, we’re almost there, let’s get this done,” he said finally.
I breathed out, realising that I had been holding it in, then I nodded, reluctantly.
“Okay good, nearly there. Then we can start to put this behind us,” he said.
Start to put this behind us? WTAF?
Who was he kidding? I knew that we were living by the minute and that this wasn’t going to stop for a very long time. I also didn’t know how long I’d be able to manage it for. How would I live with this? What would I tell my family, my friends?
I lifted my end of the body back up, wearily and almost passively. As we approached the window, I tensed, but felt an almost resignation that we were probably about to be caught. Maybe I wanted it. I felt surprise as we passed by unmolested, then an unexpected relief surged through me as we started down the next row.
“Stop!” hissed Richard with a whisper that almost stopped my heart.
He turned very pale. I followed his gaze across the courtyard garden, frightened to even make a noise from turning my head.
“Down,” he whispered almost inaudibly as we lowered the bundled body very gently, kneeling as we did so. I watched what he watched.
A porter was very quietly wheeling a trolley full of empty glasses and bottles around the outside of the closed up bar. There was a very faint rattling noise as it went, and a dim squeak from the wheels. We both hunched down rigid, frozen. He was about fifty yards from us and was facing away from us, oblivious. Then at the corner of the path he stopped. There were a few trees and lilos and things between us. We were also cast in shadow from the apartments built up either side. But still, if he looked in our direction, there was a good chance we’d be seen. Most importantly, would he notice the odd bundle of sheets between us? He rotated at forty-five degrees, but thankfully turned in towards the hotel wall. I heard the familiar ‘click, click’ of a lighter and a plume of smoke followed. We shared a look of relief, but stayed tight still where we were planted. It felt like the longest smoke break of all time. I would have given anything to change places with him in that moment, trading him a corpse for a cigarette. Eventually he was done and he literally rolled on, without so much as a glance in our direction. We gave each other another half-smile and got back to our work. It felt lighter lifting Ivan this time. It would be just a little further. We practically sprinted the rest of the way.
When we got to the place, we began to unroll him at the top of the steps after a cursory look about. The steps were old and were disintegrating in places, probably well predating the hotel. There was still no one about. I couldn’t see or hear anyone anywhere. I was incredibly grateful for that, but my nerves were out of control and I actually felt like I might wet myself. There was only that continuous lapping of the sea, visible only like a line of ink on the horizon. As the sheet unrolled and his face was revealed, my stomach began to lurch about some more. Once he was
