by Ben Ryder
“Okay, snag me a Rolex,” I said as I ordered another couple of vodkas from the stewardess, who had arrived with her cart. “Thank you so much,” I said with a broad, grateful smile before turning to Jackie. She gave me a smile of approval for treating the stewardess with the utmost respect.
Jackie purposely waited until the stewardess was bent down to place a napkin on my table before asking, “So, my little stud muffin. Cock. Are you getting any yet?” I caught her winking at the uniformed woman beside me.
I leaned to one side and placed my hand on my forehead, cursing myself for not anticipating the opportunity for her to embarrass me. Most of the time I expected it and was prepared with a line to come back at her, but sometimes she threw me with her posh accent and her matter-of-fact delivery. The stewardess smiled, placed my drink down, and patted my hand in consolation, although I wasn’t too sure whether it was for my embarrassment or for the knowledge of my stale sex life.
“Jacks, I have to look at my own dick just to remember what the damn things look like. The company has me working like a son of a bitch at the moment. Everything else comes second, so to speak.”
“And you don’t think I know that? Honey, I’m with you most of the time, so I know how hard you work.” “Yeah, but you don’t see the mountain of paperwork I have to get through on my days off. I have to compile reports, liaise with the marketing department, keep on top of the distributors, and file my figures. It’s never ending.”
“So not even so much as a dalliance with a kind and tender gentleman caller?”
“One or two, months ago. But they always wanted to spend the night or cuddle or ask me ‘whatcha thinking?’” I took a sip of my drink. “I was usually thinking ‘please get the hell out of my bed. I have to be up early for work in the morning.’”
“Perhaps we can get you a young Arab man while we’re there. Maybe a rough-and-ready Aladdin type or one of the forty thieves.”
“Not really my type, but thanks for the offer.” “Again, Jay, how am I supposed to know? You’ve never introduced me to one of your boyfriends. For all I know, you might like one-armed, cross-dressing dairy farmers.”
“Jacks, I haven’t had a boyfriend in the last five years. That’s why you’ve never met one. Anyone I ever met, I usually found a problem with.” Jackie leaned forward to speak, but I cut her off. “Before you say it, I am not looking for a problem.”
Jackie considered me for a minute. “Jay, you’re over six feet tall, you have a great body—” “A body I have thanks to lugging around crates of beer for the past five years and the odd chance I get to go to the gym to work out my sexual frustration,” I interrupted.
“—and a handsome face. I have no idea why you aren’t finding yourself courting a lovely young man.” “Courting?” I asked, trying to steer her away from the compliments she knew would make me cringe. “What are you, sixty?”
“I know. I picked that word up from my mother. She was so prim and proper until the gin came out. Then, of course, she sounded like a whorish fishwife!”
“Like mother, like daughter.”
“Indeed.” She winked.
“How about you, Jacks? Are there any guys you’re interested in?” “My love, it’s been five years since my husband left me for that little tart. His alimony still pays for a cleaner to come into the house and do the laundry, as I still can’t bear to look at the washing machine without feeling a surge of bile rise to the back of my throat.”
After being called at the last minute to cover a flight, Jackie had come home to pieces of stewardess uniform scattered across the back of the sofa. Exhausted and thinking that she had just dropped them there when the airline called to send her to Hong Kong, she gathered them up and placed the white work shirt into the washing machine. Feeling a little punch-drunk from tiredness, she measured out the fabric softener, mixed in some other whites from the laundry basket, and folded the skirt, scarf, and jacket into a bag. It wasn’t until she returned from dropping the bag off at the dry cleaners that she went upstairs to find her husband in bed with a younger, blonder version of herself, who was a stewardess at the same airline.
“Can you believe I was doing her laundry while she was upstairs shagging my husband? I can’t pass a man or woman with even a hint of the scent of Bounce on their clothes without wanting to claw their eyes out.”
“I love you to bits, Jacks. It kills me that someone treated you like that.”
Jackie took a wistful sigh. “Well, that was my lot in life. Maybe one day I’ll have another relationship. But in the meantime I’m having fun with you! So it’s not all bad.”
“Fun is good!”
“But that’s me, not you. I so wish you had someone.” “Honestly, I’m fine, Jacks.”
“I know, but you work so hard and look after so many people in one way or another. I just wish you had someone to look after you for a while.”
“At the moment I am far too selfish; the job comes first. Besides, relationships are hard at the best of times. That’s without someone having to flit off to another country with just a few days’ notice. I would prefer to be with someone who understood that this is my lifestyle.”
“I am familiar with that particular problem,” Jackie said with a smile. “But relationships are all about the odd bit of give and take. If you meet someone you’re meant to be with, you’ll work it out.”
“‘Give and take’ is not always balanced,” I said, remembering the last guy I dated. We had both been in our early twenties and had moved in together far too soon. It didn’t take long to realize that he regarded me as someone who would look after and pay for him the way his mother had done. It was like living with a spoiled child, who had never done a day of work in his life and who still expected everything on a silver platter.
“That’s true,” Jackie conceded. “‘Give and take’ is not always balanced. Look at me and my ex-husband. He knew I liked olives in my martinis, so he furnished my beverages accordingly. I knew he couldn’t achieve orgasm unless I held the gusset of my work tights over his head until he looked like a bank robber.”
“Too much, Jacks.”
“It was never too much. That was the problem!” “Oh Jesus, you had a safeword too, didn’t you?”
“It was ‘gnocchi’!” she exclaimed through her laughter, nodding her head. “Oh, to have been a fly on the wall when that little gem of information came out into the open. I considered warning the little sweetheart, but it would have only ruined the surprise.”
“How long did they last?” “One whole week after the divorce was finalized. Thankfully, we didn’t have any kids, so I haven’t had to lay eyes on him since.”
“Do you think he’s sorry?”
“Without a doubt,” she said, raising her glass.
Wednesday
THE plane landed in a dark and very humid Bahrain in the early hours of the morning. Despite visiting the Middle East before, I was still unnerved by the sight of so many police and security guards, who patrolled the airport and looked at each person who passed with blatant suspicion. They all had wiry, slim builds, with dark features and a scruffiness about them that made them look as though they had just rolled out of bed unwashed and unshaven. The current climate of war in the region made them seem nervous and jumpy, which didn’t help when you saw that they held their guns with their fingers barely inches from the triggers at all times.
Jackie, having been there so many times before, was less concerned and walked through the airport as though she had just stepped off a private jet and was in a hurry to get to her palace.
In the darkness of early morning, Bahrain had much the same feel and look as Dubai had a few years earlier. Long stretches of desert road led into small pockets of towns on the outskirts of the main city, where the dark sky was now littered with sharp block silhouettes of new buildings and ragged outlines of others still under construction. The more modern buildings stood out and rose high above the smaller, more traditional constructions that still
had the domed roofs and spiraling architecture that was typical of a more ancient Middle East. Like Dubai, the days of seeing the old cream-colored buildings reflecting all the colors of a lateafternoon setting sun were coming to an end. The more traditional views were being replaced by shadows of towering steel office blocks and hotels. The land of magical genies and hidden treasures now collided with the modern world at full speed, though I imagined the stale scent of burned-out incense sticks would forever remain in the air.
WE ARRIVED at the Ramada Hotel in the capital, Manama, and I shipped the girls off to bed to get some rest, while Jackie and I took inventory of the promotional gear that had arrived the day before. We eventually hit our own beds just before sunrise, only to be awakened minutes later by the call to prayer that sent shivers down my spine. It was an eerie mixture of a prolonged chant and echo that blasted through speakers throughout the city. If heard in the western world, the wail would have been mistaken for some kind of emergency warning. Once the call ended, I managed to drift off to a well-earned sleep.
AFTER several hours of restful sleep and an early dinner at the Sunset Café across the street from the hotel, the girls assembled in my room in their jeans and polo shirts, each carrying a separate bag that held their Daisy Duke shorts and tight white Side Line branded shirts.
Jackie, dressed professionally in a black pantsuit, stood and addressed them all as she always did before we headed out to work.
“Right, my beautiful little minxes, let me begin by telling you how gorgeous you all look.” The girls looked proud of themselves. It didn’t matter that thousands of men had given them sweeping compliments; they still held Jackie’s as the highest they could receive.
“Okay, just a few things. Please remember that tonight will be a rather different affair from other nights, as it’s more than likely you will be the only women there. As always, take special care of yourself, and do not hesitate to come to me or Jay if you feel uncomfortable in any way at all.”
I smiled at the girls. Each of them knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would protect them in an instant. It wasn’t just because they knew I cared about them, but also because I had demonstrated my commitment to keeping them safe on more than one occasion. Free beer and an overwhelming sense that they were irresistible had led to more than a few men receiving a choke hold or black eye from me when things got out of hand.
“Also,” Jackie continued, “since we are in the Middle East, there are certain cultural differences that you should observe and adhere to at all times.”
“Yeah, women still get stoned for sex around some of these places,” Siobhan offered.
“What’s wrong with that? I’ve been stoned and had sex loads of times,” Emma said, as if it were no big deal. “That’s not what she means,” the twins said in unison. It sometimes creeped me out when they did that. “Thank you for your confession of drug use, young lady,” Jackie said sternly. “But I think Siobhan is referring to the fact that, should a young lady take a lover outside of her marriage, or is considered a whore within someone else’s marriage, she could be sentenced to be stoned to death.” Jackie saw that Emma was still confused, so she explained, “It means they throw rocks at her, dear, until she perishes in the street.”
Emma looked horrified.
“However, that isn’t in Bahrain. That usually happens in places like Saudi Arabia,” Jackie continued. “Which is just a stone’s throw away,” I added, punctuating the point Jackie was trying to make. Of course, this wasn’t strictly true. A western woman would never suffer such a punishment, as their embassy would see that they were protected. However, the time between any offense and the embassy rescuing them would be traumatic, to say the least. But since Emma had a habit of pushing her luck, a slight bit of fear was necessary to ensure she would think twice before not toeing the company line.
“While we are here, the company expects you to act and dress modestly. Bikinis are acceptable by the pool, but should you venture outside the hotel, we ask that you cover yourselves to below the knee and elbow. And should you wish to visit the souks or any of the shopping districts, we ask that you don’t go alone. Please pair up or go as a group and make sure that either Jay or I know where you are. Just leave a message on one of our phones if we’re not around to speak to.”
Emma’s face contorted. “Hang on, when the hell did the company start telling us what we can wear, where we can go, and who we have to go with? I will wear what I want, thanks.”
Although Jackie had a fondness for Emma and agreed with me that she had become a great member of the squad, Jackie had on occasion snapped at Emma after becoming frustrated with her continuous questioning or arguing. I noticed Jackie draw in her bottom lip in frustration, so I jumped in before the mood of the evening was ruined.
“Sweetheart,” I began kindly, “this isn’t about telling you what you can or can’t do. Jackie is telling you this because she has been in this area of the world a hundred times before and knows exactly what it’s like. She cares about not just your safety, but all our safety, including my own. As for the company, I’m sorry, babe, but they do have the right to insist on these rules while you are here and they are paying you by the hour. They also pay me to enforce those rules. It’s great that you can lie by the pool and go shopping—just remember that they are paying you a salary to do it.”
Emma seemed to accept this and nodded with an exaggerated, resigned pout.
Comfortable that Emma had received the message, Jackie continued. “Right, the taxis will be here any moment. We will be dropped off at the back of the bar, where you will wait in a side room until Jay has spoken to the owner and has set everything up.”
“It’s a short and easy night tonight. You will be behind the bar as well as in front of it. We have Polaroid cameras for each of you, so take plenty of pictures of yourselves with the boys. I am sure they will appreciate the photo and keep it as a cherished memento of the night they met such beautiful girls,” I said before passing it back over to Jackie.
“Any questions?” Jackie asked before she motioned for the girls to get their things together.
Siobhan raised her hand. “Will any of the men be in uniform?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. I should imagine getting hammered while in uniform is frowned upon, my love.”
The whole room, including me, gave a collective disappointed moan. WE ARRIVED at the Pearl Bar a little after 9:00 p.m. and were met at the back entrance by a middle-aged Arab man named Ahmed. I had spoken to him on a number of occasions in the past couple of weeks, as he owned this bar and the Equinox nightclub where we were due to promote the following evening and on our final night. I had explained to him that the first night was to be a low-key affair designed to drum up interest for the larger events later in the week. He had received the promotional posters and had pinned them up beforehand to advertise our arrival. However, it seemed that Ahmed had done some advertising of his own, as the entire bar was packed wall-to-wall with military guys hoping to get a glimpse of the girls wearing cheerleader outfits from the posters. Ahmed had proved to be a friendly and hospitable man in my conversations with him, but I wasn’t unaware that he would profit considerably if these promotions made his bar and club one of the more popular haunts for the military men in the city.
The company had dispatched countless cases of beer, some holding twenty-four single cans, others set in sixpacks, to the various venues a couple of days before we arrived. Judging by the stacks that stood from floor to ceiling in the storeroom of the Pearl Bar, the company hadn’t skimped on the complimentary handouts, even for the smaller venues. The tower of beer was in addition to the cans Ahmed had already chilled in the bar and kitchen fridges.
“Ahmed, we’re going to get the chilled stuff out now and replace it with the beer stacked in the storeroom. Can I ask you to turn the temperature on your fridges to its coldest setting so they will be ready in an hour or so? Also, do you have enough room in your freezers to chill a few mor
e a bit quicker?
“Yes, consider it done, my friend,” he said in a thick accent before bounding away to happily comply with my request.
I turned to Jackie. “We had better pitch in tonight. Did you bring an extra shirt to wear?” “Like hell I did!” Jackie exclaimed indignantly. “If these gentlemen wish to take advantage of free alcohol, then I am afraid they will have to accept it from a woman whose twenties are a mere memory. One who, incidentally, could show them more than a thing or two.”
I instructed the girls to stay behind the bar for the entire night, as there was no chance of getting through the crowds of men, who were stacked four deep.
“Remember, ask them about themselves, take interest, but keep it brief,” I said as the girls filed from the storeroom to behind the bar, all met with a great cheer.
“We’ll be out of here in a couple of hours if this free-forall carries on,” I shout-whispered to Jackie as she handed beer over the counter.
“We are in trouble if the rest of the week is like this. We had better make sure the owners of the bars keep to their capacity. We have more than enough beer, it seems, but no room to work,” Jackie shouted back before leaning forward to a young squaddie who looked barely out of his teens. He had yet to achieve the muscular physique of the men surrounding him, and while it must have been intimidating for him, he kept his confidence well. He held out his hand for a can of free beer. “What’s your name, young man?” Jackie shouted over the noise.
“Henry!” he called back. “And where are you from, Henry?” she asked, holding the beer just out of snatching distance, as if teasing the poor kid.
“I’m from Cornwall!” “Ahhhh, a British boy! Well then, you get two!” Jackie exclaimed with a wink, grabbing another beer from the pack and handing them over. “You stay lucky, handsome.”
