Page 40 of The Summer Island Swap
‘Thanks for the travel sickness tablet.’
‘No problem. It should last eight hours so will just cover you tonight. Malik will sail us back around midnight.’
‘Are you going shopping?’
‘No. But I’ll take you all to the retail area and point out the most reasonable stores. Some are a bit pricey. Malik and I will then visit his brother. It’s always fascinating listening to him talk about his latest research or marine conservation project. Afterwards Malik will see his wife, Zina. I’ll spend the evening with all of you. What are you hoping to find? A fashion boutique? Shoe shop?’
‘A branch of Crocker & Crowley?’ I asked.
His face fell. ‘No… there was a plan for that but we had to shelve it.’ Rick cleared his throat. ‘There’s a chemist that’s great for makeup, I believe, and—’
I held up my hand. ‘Functional clothes. Extra supplies of insect repellent. These are my new staples.’
He laughed. I cleared my throat and stepped back, feeling unnerved at our new camaraderie.
‘I think you are going to fit in just fine,’ he said. ‘I have to be honest – I didn’t think you’d last longer than a day, after you swore that you’d stay… but I’ve learnt that you can’t judge a person by their hat, even if it’s one more suited toBreakfast at Tiffany’sthan back-breaking work in a rainforest.’
I smiled and looked at my phone, a text from back home having come through. Perhaps we had misjudged each other. However, I still had reservations. The physical pull felt exciting but unnerved me as well.
I read the text and frowned.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked.
‘Oh, it’s nothing, just from work,’ I said vaguely, wishing again that I could be more open about losing my job. Lynn from housekeeping had messaged saying she and the team were really upset about my dismissal and wanted to meet me for a goodbye drink when I got back.
I used the shopping trip to find souvenirs to buy them. Lynn was an avid fridge magnet collector and I found some lovely shell necklaces. We walked near the harbour and then visited the main street in Road Town. Before leaving us, Rick talked more about the construction work still underway. An Australian tourist who visited the British Virgin Islands regularly said several of his favourite specialised stores had been destroyed. Most of the ones now, in the form of colourful wooden huts, sold generic products and not all of them had been made locally.
But who could blame the vendors? Rick had mentioned that over eighty-five per cent of the houses on Tortola had been damaged or destroyed. Personally, I was thrilled with the choice of wares displayed outside shops on hooks and rails and in stacks, including straw hats and colourful sarongs, Caribbean dolls and the spices and jams Tortola was known for, pottery and art. It was still several weeks until I went home but who knew when I’d come shopping again. After a full week’s volunteering I might want to do nothing but chill on the beach next Saturday. So I relished the sound of customers bartering, of clothes’ hangers banging together and bag and purse zips undoing.
I bought pairs of cool linen trousers, along with cotton shirts, and found a chemist to stock up with plasters and creams.
Jonas shoved his sunglasses into his pocket and took out his harmonica. Appropriately he played the Pina Colada song, as we headed to get a drink, several of us singing along about making love at midnight and singing in the rain. Eventually he ground to a halt as he shut his eyes and lost himself in the tune. Passers-by paused to listen. His body swayed. I marvelled at the different dynamics Jonas put in and the intensity of the playing.
Even Benedikt stopped to stare. His body rocked in time too. Amy held onto his arm but he hardly seemed to notice. But then he was a piano player. He must have missed music just like Jonas. A crowd formed and clapped, calling for more. Jonas blushed deeply, thanked everyone, put his sunglasses back on and continued walking.
Near the harbour we met Rick at a bar named Papaya Sunrise. He was waiting in the corner at a large table with several seats.
He took my breath away. His striking face. The solid frame. The humour that twitched across his mouth.
A stern-looking terrier sat on one of the seats. Six p.m. Saturday night and the place was already filled. Like Rick’s family’s house there were no windows, just shutters to pull down at night. Tables outside were filled with locals and tourists. Calypso music wafted across the room as if its notes were dancing with the air’s atoms. Rum cocktails awaited us, dressed up with paper umbrellas and chunks of fruit.
‘I know Maia, the manager of this place,’ said Rick, beaming. ‘We go a long way back. When we were little I used to throw spiders in her face. Amazingly she’s still talking to me and asked her boss, Sultan, to save this table for us. We ought to thank him, really.’
We looked around for a man in charge and Rick started laughing. He whistled and the terrier jumped off its seat and disappeared under the table. Rick bent down and emerged with the dog in his arms, licking his face.
‘Sultan is very eager to please and excellent at guarding seats, as long as you order a lot of cocktails.’
We all grinned. Amy tickled Sultan’s ears.
He put the dog back onto the floor and indicated to the chairs. ‘I imagine you feel like sitting down after shopping.’
With relief I collapsed into a chair next to Rick and put down my bags. Carlotta looked disappointed – even more so when someone else sat the other side of him. It was rare for her to look anything but jovial. Amy sat next to me. Benedikt and Jonas were opposite. Jackie and Helga had stayed behind as part of the team that would do the evening animal feeds.
Rick had unbuttoned his white shirt further. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it.
Handsome sounded like an old-fashioned word these days. But Rick was kind of old-school attractive and despite the spiky slightly reckless hair he could have easily passed for a dapper Fifties hero like a racing driver or military officer, what with his broad shoulders and strong arms… with the humour he exuded and sensitivity he almost managed to conceal, and a secret story I could sense lurking in his shadow…
All these ingredients made up the kind of man I knew would bring nothing but heartache. The fact I was waxing lyrical about him was a bad sign. Therefore I held my gaze strictly above those undone buttons and took a large swig of the fruity cocktail – in the process almost poking my eye out with the umbrella. Rick grinned and removed it once I’d put the glass back down onto the scratched mahogany table.
