Mystic detective in Spain

Paul was on holiday in Spain, in August! It was way too dry, it was way too hot and despite clinging to the shade like a mussel he was way too sun burnt. What on earth was he doing here? he kept asking himself and the answer was Catherine his teenage daughter. But why on earth had he agreed to come here? Probably guilt.

He still felt responsible for the bust up with Marie - Catherine's mum, his ex - but really the problem was his job. No that was not quite true, he was the problem.

The trouble with men is that they are not happy unless they have a mountain to climb, a sea to swim, or a battle to fight. There was something in the male psyche that caused most men to want to do daft dangerous things at least once in their lives.

And these daft dangerous things - like some of Paul's contracts - occasionally ended up with him being in a fight, including one time being shot sat (see 'mystic days').

So Catherine was the poor victim of her parents' folie a deux or rather not just a victim. Like most teenagers she had learnt early on to make the most of her parents' differences and like most daughters had her father well figured out.

Catherine was swimming in one of the three pools in the camp they were staying in and Paul was nursing a glass of rather cheap tasting sangria. He was sat under an imitation palm tree that at least afforded him some shade and a view of the pool, whilst he read yesterday's Guardian which at least gave him a nostalgic feel for his home town.

But the trouble was it was hard to spend time with Catherine without thinking about Marie and the more Paul and Catherine avoided talking about her the greater her presence was felt.

Paul's way of working had stretched Catherine beyond her breaking point. She snapped - had a breakdown - and when she was out of hospital she was a different woman and Paul a different man.

Their eventual separation had come as a relief to Paul. For now he could lead his life the way he wanted it - with his work and non work lives totally blurred together. But there was a price to pay for this indulgence.

One price he was happy to pay was not to have to commit to a new relationship with anyone. Although he had been spending time with Martha for several years now he refused to commit to her even though their relationship was going nowhere and either of them might call it a day soon.

Paul was consequently lonely but he had always been lonely even in the early heady days of his relationship with Marie. Marie had seemed so cool then, so right for him, they'd made a good pair - everyone said so and Catherine was just a happy accident - 'Well we meant to have kids sooner or later - didn't we?''Yeah sure,' was all a good modern man like Paul could reply. Notwithstanding a feeling inside of being trapped which he found hard to accept or fathom.

Marriage followed.

Paul's loneliness however had grown stronger after they married when it should have grown lighter or maybe even vanished. he took on some risky contracts to earn, in his eyes, the 'extra' money needed now that he was about to become a father.

These 'extra' jobs took him away from home increasingly often and although he did not 'play away' they did impact on his relationship with Marie. But it was when he was shot, albeit by accident and only in his right shoulder that Marie began to lose it or rather lose both him and it.

Looking now at Catherine happily swimming in the pool Paul felt that deep contentment he always felt in her company. Here was someone who he loved without apparent contradiction and who loved him equally in return.

Paul dozed off in the hot sun and dreamt that his friend Frankie was being pursued by X from the OM group and then Frankie was handing over a cheque for £10,000 which X lit a match to and smiled rather sinisterly and said 'that will never do' and Frankie began to look really really frightened and... Paul awoke with a start.

Had OM really got there teeth into Frankie? Had OM got some hold over him were they milking him dry. Is that what this dream was about? Or what?

Time to text Frankie later but first off a late Spanish tapas lunch with Catherine - chirozo, Spanish omelet, Paella and more cheap tasting sangria.