Lost at Sea

House of Fraser vanished today. Lost at sea. I blame myself which is hardly surprising seeing as it was my fault.
We had a few liveners this morning in ‘the Scotsman bar’ (renowned in benidorm for its huge collection of signed Jockey Wilson photographs) and then headed off to the beach for a siesta before tonight’s fun and games. Fraser went off to the shop and I was the only one awake when he came strolling back with a red and white striped blow-up sun-bed under his arm. I made-out I was asleep. I did this partly because I was worried that if he saw I was awake he’d want a chat and people would know we were together, (I’d already suffered enough embarrassment for one holiday) and also because I could feel a prank coming on.
I had one eye open as he plonked the inflatable under an umbrella and settled down for a kip. It was just too good an opportunity to miss, an itch that just had to be scratched. I waited until I was sure he was asleep, (didn’t take long – he was pissed) then I got up, had a bit of a stretch, grabbed hold of the end of his Lilo and dragged it and Fraser down to the water.
I dipped my foot in. It was cold but I braved it and actually went in as far as my balls before I handed him over to the gods.
I made my way back to dry-land and I’d no sooner sat down than these two Swedish stunners cat-walked past. Fuck me, they were gorgeous – tall and graceful, golden hair flowing behind them in that dreamy way like it does in them shampoo ads, skin as smooth as the head on a pint of Boddingtons. Lovely. Like a couple of mermaids.
I gave a whistle, couldn’t help it, and low and be-fucking-hold one of them only smiled back at me. At least I think it was a smile. It might have been a grimace to be fair – the sun was in my eyes so I couldn’t see properly. Who the fuck cares? My point is that they were a distraction and when I turned back to start enjoying Fraser’s misfortune he was nowhere to be fucking seen.
Shit!
If this was a scene from a film it’d be that one in Jaws where old Chief Brody’s on the beach and the camera whooshes toward him and he’s got a look on his face like he’s just seen a shark eating a little kid, which he has to be fair.
I always felt for the old chief in that scene. It weren’t his fucking fault the kid had been eaten. It was that fucking major the money-grabbing bastard.
It was about this time that I woke up the lads, told them what I’d done, they started fucking have a go, calling me a cunt and that. I told them all to fuck off and if they wanted it I’d take the fucking lot of them at once. Mark said we should pull together and leave the arguing to after we’d found Fraser.
“Any time … any fucking place,” I tells him.
There was a huge pier of rock down the beach a bit. It went out about 200 meters. I thought that maybe Fraser was hiding behind that, attempting a wind-up or something. I wouldn’t put it past that cunt. Anyway, I sent Souness out there to have a look.
I was starting to get nervous. For starters, Fraser can’t swim. I know because he accidentally let it slip yesterday when me and John were about to throw him in the deep end of the swimming pool at the hotel.
Souness reached the end of the pier looking as ridiculous as ever even from that far out with his silly perm and what-have-you. He looked like a lollypop for fucks sake. He shook his head. Fraser wasn’t there. Shit!.
We’ve looked fucking everywhere for him. I thought at one stage that maybe he’d cottoned on to my prank early and was winding me up. Maybe he’d managed to get back to dry-land whilst I was distracted by them two birds. Maybe he’s headed off to a bar or back to the hotel or something. But it's been about 4 hours and there’s still no sign of him. It’s getting late now and I’m totally worried. I think I’ll pop down the Scotsman, see if he’s in there. I’ll have to bell his mum and dad sooner or later - let them know the worst. Then again I don’t want to worry them. It’s a tricky fucking situation this. I mean, what do you say to them … “Oh I don’t want worry you Mrs Clarkson but you I think your son Fraser might have drowned.”

Fucking hell.

That daft Souness is still at the beach looking for him. What can you do?