This Is This

Oh, so now you want to hear about my holiday.

In the UK, we’re a little prudish when it comes to going topless. And when I say “we”, I mean women in general.

And that’s cool with me - ladies, if you got it, you got it, you know you got it and we don’t all need to see.

But plenty of British women choose to go topless when they are not in Britain, I now suspect, because of the lack of British men. And when I say “British men”, I mean me.

This one topless woman came idling by (I toyed here with “flouncing”, “sauntering” and “slinking” here, but they all made me sound sleazy) and I can’t remember whose eye caught whose or where they wandered after that, but suffice to say I looked.

What?! There she was, idling to the nines, between myself and the ocean from whence she came, heading towards me, nay, bearing down, I guess because her towel was in my direction. That was the only reason a wet, topless stranger would be walking towards me. Wasn’t it? I mean, wasn’t it?

Then she saw me looking. Shit. Except she looked back. “Hello,” I thought. She checked out my stuff. And when I say “stuff”, I mean stuff. She looked around at my belongings, I guess because you can tell a lot about someone by what they take to the beach, or something.

I kept looking her way, purely because my kids were playing in the ocean behind her. My kids, whose mother I love and without whom anything.

I suddenly tried to look disinterested in topless lady, partly because I was. I’m off the market. This ship has sailed, or at least permanently slipped its moorings.

Her eyes landed on the book in my hand. The Contant Gardener by John le Carre*. The eyes filled with panic and dread. She covered herself up with her arms and looked at me in disgust.

Now:

Either:

1. She was English, as many pale women on the beach were and she was suddenly ashamed at having invited the oogling (which I wasn’t anyway, but anyway) of her fellow countryman and was quickly turning her inward bashfulness into outward rage.

2. She hates John le Carre*

I ruled out 2 almost immediately and hoped she wasn’t staying at my hotel.

* Nom de plume**, real name Johnny Squares
** Pen name, en francais***
*** in French, in French

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