May 25th 1990
Ramada Renaissance, Royal Antiguan Resort
Deep Bay, Antigua
We hired a jeep and named him Gurgle! Laney offered to be the designated driver but after tonight’s antics she may have lost her position.
After we picked Gurgle up this morning, we spent a few hours sunbathing at Buccaneer Cove which was just beautiful. The island isn’t as pretty as Bermuda but we’re getting paid to stay here so I shan’t complain. Dolly suggested a ride on the Big Banana boat which started out as fun but within a few minutes of bobbing about I felt sick and felt very relieved when the ride was over.
Quick change at the hotel then drove into town to check out the nightlife, which, in a club called Tropix proved to be a lot of fun. We danced for ages and when it was time to leave, our, “Look how cool we are in our silver jeep,” attitude got the better of us and the three of us climbed in, without opening the doors.
Sitting in the back, with a much too smug expression, I shot forward when Laney put the jeep in drive instead of reverse. The makeshift brick wall Gurgle hit head on, crumbled and chunks of it landed on the bonnet. The three of us swore in unison and a second later two police officers appeared and demanded we follow them to the police station! Our smug expressions were nowhere to be seen as each of the officers held open the doors.
The police station was just up the street from the club and the three of us walked meekly behind the officers and didn’t utter a word. Inside the decrepit building there appeared no rhyme or reason to how the place was set up so we sat at a huge round table in a corner of the barely furnished hot, sticky room and watched as various members of society came and went!
What felt like ages later, two other police officers came over and starting asking questions;
What’s your nationality? Where are you staying? How long have you on island? Where did you get the money to come here? Laney kicked me under the table and rolled her eyes in a “We need to get out of here,” kind of way.
Dolly cleared her throat and noisily pushed the metal chair back. She stood and waited until all eyes were upon her before she spoke.
“We’re all British and we’re staying at the, the,” she stuttered, looking at me. “What’s the hotel called again?”
“The Royal Antiguan,” Laney chirped.
“Hmmm,” mumbled the older of the two officers.
“We’re crew,” Laney stated.
“On a yacht?”
“No, no, no, for British Airways. We’re airline crew.”
I watched the beginning of a smirk cross Dolly’s angelic looking face when one of the officers got up and didn’t even come up to her shoulder.
“Do you have proof of that?” he asked, gazing up at her.
“Yes, of course. I always carry my BA ID. It’s in my bag,” she gushed, glancing at the back of the chair.
“Ehm, I think I left my bag in Gurgle.”
“No,” Laney said. “You didn’t, I saw you hanging it on the chair.”
Dolly looked at me. “Chair,” I mouthed. “I saw you do it.”
The three of us looked under and around the table but the bag was nowhere to be found.
“Somebody stole my bag with my ID!” she shrieked.
“Calm down,” Laney said. “We’ll find it.”
Laney said she’d check Dolly hadn’t actually left her bag in the jeep and when she stood up, the other officer said we hadn’t been cleared to leave so he’d have to accompany her, which I found highly amusing. We’re on an island, people! It’s not like we’re going anywhere!
With the conclusion that the fake Chanel (“I just bought it in Bangkok!”) had indeed gone walkies within the confines of the police station, Dolly had to file a stolen property report! We didn’t leave the station until after one am and because of the huge dent in Gurgle, we didn’t dare attempt to drive it back on the dark, unfamiliar roads so we got a taxi. So much for having a rental vehicle!
It’s now four am (tea and toast in my room and lots of “Who do you think nicked the bag?” chat) and now I need to sleep.
Spending time at the police station isn’t exactly what I’d envisioned for this request trip but there you go.
Oh, and I met a dishy American guy in the club tonight, called William.