David's mother was still comparatively young when his father died. Not even 50. But looking after her husband for the final few months of his life had taken some of the stuffing out of her.
'I think you need a bit of a break,' David told his mother when he dropped in for his customary mid-week supper with her.
'A bit of a break?'
'A change of scenery.'
His mother glanced out through the French doors that led out onto the terrace and small garden beyond. It was still winter and most of the plants had yet to rouse from their hibernation. But it would soon be spring. 'What sort of a change of scenery?'
'I don't know. Perhaps a secluded beach. White sand. Sunshine. The whole nine yards.'
His mother laughed. 'And what would I do with a secluded beach?'
'You wouldn't have to do anything -- if you didn't want to,' David said.
'I can do nothing here,' his mother said.
'Yes. But on a nice secluded beach, you could do nothing with your shirt off. You could just lie back and soak up the sun.'
His mother laughed again. 'Taking my shirt off. I think I'm getting too old for that sort of thing,' she said.
'Rubbish,' David told her.
* * *
Later that evening, after David had left, his mother prepared for bed, standing in front of her dressing mirror in her bra and knickers. She tried to look at herself objectively. She tried to see herself as someone else might see her. She wasn't going to be mistaken for a woman in her 20s. But then she wasn't in her 20s anymore. She was in her late 40s. She would soon be 50. But she was a trim soon-to-be-50.
She unfastened her bra, leaned forward slightly, lifted her bra, and let her breasts fall out. Her breasts had filled out slightly over the years. And they now drooped slightly. But they were still rather attractive. Perhaps her son's suggestion was not so silly after all. Perhaps she could lie back in a chair on a secluded beach with her shirt off.
And then she lowered her knickers. Just a little bit at first. Just enough to reveal her fur-covered pubic mound. And then she pushed her knickers lower. Her husband, David's father, had liked her with 'hair down there'. Not bushy. Trimmed. But definitely not shaved. 'It's probably time that I got the clippers out again,' she said to herself. And then she said 'Cunt'. Just quietly. Just softly. And she smiled.
* * *
That night, David's mother dreamed that she was at a beach. It wasn't the secluded beach that David had talked about. It was more like one of the south coast beaches. Brighton perhaps. Or it might have been Barry Island. Anyway, David's mother was about to walk into a cafΓ© when a woman carrying a stack of menus stopped her.
'You're wearing a shirt,' the woman said.
'Yes. Is that not permitted?' David's mother asked.
'It's entirely up to you,' the woman said with a smile. 'But if you are going to wear a shirt, you'll need to remove your knickers.'
'But I'm going to meet my son,' David's mother said.
'Nice,' the woman with the menus said. 'Your son is a lucky boy.'
* * *
It was about lunchtime on Friday that David phoned. 'I'm sending you some links,' he said. 'See what you think. Cranberry Cove looks pretty nice.'
'Cranberry Cove?'
'Yes. It's a bit off the beaten track, but it looks very private. And it's adults only. There won't be any noisy kids.'
'I don't understand,' his mother said.
'For a bit of a getaway. A change of scenery,' David said.
'Oh.' His mother laughed.
'Hopefully, the week after next,' David said. 'Check out the links. I'll drop in tomorrow and we can talk about it then.'
* * *
That night, David's mother dreamed that she was at another beach. It was only a small beach and there about half a dozen semi-screened-off areas. Each screened-off area had two or three people enjoying the sun and enjoying each other. And then, almost from out of nowhere, a man dressed in only a sun hat and carrying a tray came up to her. 'Can I get you something?' he said.
'I'm looking for my son,' David's mother said.
'Your son? Oh, yes. The pink and blue screen,' the waiter said.
The screen was in a U-shape. Open to the sea. 'I couldn't find you,' David's mother said. And then she realised that her son was lying back on the sun lounger, slowly masturbating.
'Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean ....'
'That's all right,' David said. 'Come and sit beside me. The sunshine is quite conducive to edging.'
'Edging? Oh... yes,' his mother said. 'Edging. Your father talked of edging.' And then she woke up.
* * *
When David arrived on Saturday, he was carrying a chilled bottle of wine.
'Gosh. Wine at lunchtime,' his mother said.
'Wine at lunchtime,' David said. 'I thought it might help us to decide where to go if we were already in the holiday mood. So... did you check out the links?'
His mother nodded.
'And...?'
'That Cranberry Cove place does look very nice. But... well... it says clothing optional.'
'Yes,' David said. 'You can choose to be dressed or not. It's entirely up to you.'
His mother laughed. Nervously. 'But even if I'm dressed, there may still be others who aren't. If you see what I mean. Or am I mis-reading this?'
And then it was David's turn to laugh. 'I'm sure you'll cope, Mother,' he said. 'After the first half hour or so, you probably won't even notice that some of the people are naked.'
'Will you...?'
'Will I what?' David asked.
'Well... get naked.'
'I expect so,' David said. 'Unless it's unexpectedly cold. Which I don't expect it will be. Not according to their website. But it shouldn't be too hot either.'
His mother frowned.
'It's not as if you've never seen me naked before, Mother.'
'Well... no... but.... Well....'
David topped up their wine glasses.
By the time that they were nearing the end of the wine, David's mother had stopped worrying about were they or were they not going, and she had moved on to worrying about what she was going to wear. 'I don't really have too much summery stuff,' she said.
'You won't need much,' David told her. 'A pair of shorts. A couple of T-shirts. A couple of sun dresses. Perhaps a cocktail number for the evenings. That's about it.'
'I not sure if I even have that,' his mother said.
'Let's go and look in your wardrobe,' David said. And, before his mother knew it, she was being hustled off to her bedroom.
David selected four dresses from his mother's wardrobe and lay them on the bed. 'Let's start with this one,' he said. And he handed the first dress to his mother.
'What am I to do?' his mother asked.
'Slip it on,' David said. 'Just pretend that I'm not here.'
His mother laughed. 'Easy for you to say,' she said. But she took off her jeans and sweater and slipped on the dress anyway.
'Well, that looks all right,' David said. 'In fact it looks quite sexy.'
'Stop it,' his mother said.
'Come on,' David said. 'Next one.' And he handed his mother the next dress.
* * *
When David and his mother arrived at Cranberry Cove, a week or so later, the hotel looked, from the road, like any other non-descript building. An office, perhaps. Or even a warehouse. And then they went inside, and things took on a whole different complexion.
'Welcome to Cranberry Cove, where the choice of wild or mild, or anywhere in between, is entirely yours,' the receptionist said.
David's mother was a little surprised that they were sharing a room. 'Oh. We're sharing,' she said, when the bellboy had left them to it. 'I didn't realise.'
'I thought it made sense,' David said. 'And we each have our own bed.' And he smiled.
They unpacked and changed into shorts and T-shirts. David's mother went into the spacious bathroom to change. David waited until his mother returned and then got changed right there, in their shared room. And then they headed off to explore what would be their playground for the next few days.
'First, I think we need a drink,' David said, as they approached the poolside bar. 'Replace some of the fluids lost in flying.'
It was only three in the afternoon. And David's mother was not a daytime drinker. 'It's only...,' she started to say. 'But, OK. Yes. Why not? Just a small one though.'
'Hello, folks,' the bare-chested barman said. 'Just arrived?'
'Just arrived,' David confirmed.
'Welcome to Cranberry Cove. Is this your first time?'
'It is,' David said.
'In that case,' the barman said, 'I should just explain that the glassware is actually plasticware. Not because we are mean. Far from it. But because plastic bounces and glass doesn't.' And he laughed. 'Oh... and the bar here, and everywhere between here and the sea, is clothing optional. But we do ask that guests wear something light and comfortable when they dine in the restaurant. Now... what will it be?'
'What would you suggest?' David asked.
'Since it's your first time, how about a couple of our signature cocktails? The CC Rider. CC for Cranberry Cove, and Rider because after a couple of these you'll be ready to ride anything and anyone.' And he laughed again.
The drinks were excellent: icy-cold, refreshing, with a kick that only showed up after the third or fourth sip.
'Gosh,' David's mother said.
'Gosh?'
'Gosh,' she repeated.
* * *
With the ice broken by the CC Riders, David suggested that he and his mother take a stroll along the beach. His mother didn't say no. She didn't even seem to disturbed that at least half of the other guests on the beach were stark naked.
David took his T-shirt off. 'You should take your T-shirt off,' he told his mother. 'This sun is very nice.'
His mother laughed. 'It's a bit different for you,' she said.
'It's not as if you'll be the only woman with her tits out,' David said.
His mother laughed again.