It wasn’t long before I had located a shopping area. Lanzarote really is small, so it wouldn’t take long to drive from one end to the other if one wanted. I had already decided that I should ditch the car as soon as possible. I didn’t know whose it was anyway and the last guy I saw driving it, I had now put a bullet into. It would be best to go on foot for a while. I chose a side street where I hoped there wouldn’t be CCTV.
On the passenger seat beside me, I laid out what I needed to keep: the rest of the cigarettes, lighter, my purse, phone, passport. I’d need to get new clothes, never mind makeup – after the horror scene I’d looked at in the mirror. My various injuries ached and stung, and the burn on my arm was starting to do a funny scabby thing. First aid supplies would be something else to add to the list. I had woken up with a hacking cough, which I’m sure the cigarettes weren’t helping. I made another resolution that if I came safely out the other side of all of this, I’d quit the smokes. Well, roll ups anyway – not joints. Picking up the phone I flicked on Safari and began a search.
Roaming.
“Hello? Hello, yes, English, thank you. Gracias. Yes, my name is Vicky Stark. I have a room there…yes… yes that’s right. Vicky Stark. A family emergency has come up back home… yes… a family emergency. Yes, thank you. I have to leave right away and won’t have time to check out. Yes, uhuh. Can I do that over the phone with you now and pay to have my luggage sent later? Yes, yes please… terrific, thank you very much.”
Once I had the hotel sorted, I wiped the car down and left the keys in the ignition. It’d probably be better for me if it got nicked. Back home there’d be a security alert, fearing an abandoned vehicle was a car bomb. I kept my head down as I started down the hot, dusty street. It was clean, but everywhere seemed to have this unworldly volcanic dust coated over it. I was self-conscious about the state I was in, even more than worried about being spotted. But I surely would be sticking out. I’d have to use my debit card anyway, so if I was being traced, then they’d catch up with me easily enough.
At the end of the street there was a large glass fronted shopping mall. I stopped for a smoke outside, by an ornate ceramic fountain. There were a few youths, standing about smoking too. I caught several giving me a sideways glance. It certainly wouldn’t have been because they fancied me. The area had a nice buzz about it. It wasn’t too busy, a mix of locals and tourists. Nobody seemed to be in any big rush. I soon set off inside, a massive shopping list now formed in my head. I think I was entitled to treat myself a little.
“You are taking all of these, yes?”
“Yes please,” I said mildly.
I had brought three or four outfits into the changing room and decided to take them all. Worst case scenario – I might not get home for a while or retrieve my suitcase. Well, worst case had other parts to it as well. Either way, I needed some decent clothes. I needed any clothes – not these rags I had on.
“Of course,” she said in a non-committal tone and began to scan the items in. She was tall, middle aged, long hair, with a thick Spanish accent and complexion too. Her eyes were kind and they looked thoughtful, set beneath her tightly gripped fringe.
She paused, looking at me with concern, “Are you quite alright miss? You look like you have perhaps some trouble?”
I didn’t sense any danger. She seemed to have genuine concern.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you – but I was in a car accident. I lost all of my luggage in the accident too.”
She tutted dramatically, “That is terrible, espantoso – you are hurt, you have seen a doctor?”
“Yes, thank you, I have – I’m alright. I just don’t have any of my things.”
“I will help you with it!” she replied with resolve, raising a finger. Then she went back to her scanning.
“Thank you, you’re very kind.”
I needed to hold it together. That had been the first act of kindness I had seen for a long while. I had to prevent myself throwing my arms around her and blubbing like a baby.
“Maria,” she said smiling, raising her eyes for a moment.
“I’m Vicky, nice to meet you.”
She then instructed a subordinate to take over on the till before guiding me back around the shop, her airy black dress with coloured gimlets, sweeping us along. I realised I hadn’t bought any underwear and she took me from aisle to aisle, finding all of the things that I needed. She didn’t seem to be the owner, she wasn’t looking for the extra sales, just showing me compassion.
Maybe things would be okay.
“Take care my little Vicky from North Ireland,” she said before I left the store, giving me a hug. I left much happier than when I went in.
My next stop
