Page 55 of The Summer Island Swap
‘Are there many volunteers?’ she asked. ‘Rick said all the shacks were full and he was really pleased how things were going.’
‘Um… yes,’ I said in a high-pitched voice, sounding a bit like Chatty.
She studied me. Leant forwards. One painted eyebrow raised, her face filled the screen. ‘Or is my grandson doing his usual and blurring the truth because he doesn’t want to worry his old gran?’
‘No… there are lots of keen volunteers about,’ I said brightly.
‘Is every shack full?’
‘I haven’t seen inside them all.’
‘You say you’re a friend of Rick’s? If you are up at the house you must know each other quite well. I’m assuming he’s told you about how… how it’s proved to be quite a challenge, funding the rebuild of our home.’ Margot slumped back into her chair, looking every one of her years for a second. She sipped a glass of water. Her voice broke. ‘It’s such a worry. Rick means well but these plans of his… what with the company struggling and unable to find any way out of…’ She took another mouthful and sat more upright and readjusted her turban. ‘Tell me about yourself. Where do you work back home?’
‘In a hotel.’
She stared out of the screen for a moment. ‘Your smooth skin suggests you cleanse well and usually wear makeup and though polish-free, your nails look strong and well looked-after. Your long hair – well, the end of your ponytail, draped forwards over one shoulder – hasn’t a split end in sight, according to my glasses. I’m guessing you work on reception – or have done at some stage.’
‘I’m impressed. Yes. Now I’m in management and looking to move upwards. I love Best Travel…’
‘I sense abut.’
‘But… it’s not stretching me anymore.’
‘Never spend one decade doing the same as the previous one – that’s always been my motto. And have you got a five-year plan?’ she asked.
‘What? Um, no…’
‘You should have. Draw one up tonight. Don’t wait until you get back to England. And reassess at the end of each year how much progress you have made… Has your salary increased? Have you been given more responsibility? Set yourself targets and analyse why – if it’s the case – you haven’t met them.’
Oh.
This was new.
This felt nice.
Someone advising me on my career.
I’d never had that.
I had memories of Mum encouraging my hobbies and studies, but once she’d gone the only thing left was Dad’s negativity and Anabelle doing her best but ending up pandering to his opinions.
I’d wanted to join to a meditation club, once, as a teenager, held at the local Buddhist centre. We’d had a talk about it at school. It sounded great for dealing with exam anxiety and a couple of my friends were going. One parent offered to take me each week. Anabelle was all for it and said she’d bring me and my friend back. My stepmum’s favourite Instagram celebrities all practised it. But Dad immediately dismissed the idea. Said too much thinking was a bad thing – that people who gazed at their navels also couldn’t see passed the end of their noses when it came to dealing with the real world. That life was stressful and I just needed to get on with it – like he’d had to. Anabelle tried to change his mind and mentioned the famous people who did it. He’d laughed in her face and she’d visibly shrunk into her cashmere jumper. I didn’t mention it again.
‘I was seventy-nine last month,’ Margot continued, ‘so I reckon it’s time for a change and a new challenge – and Seagrass Island needs to change too. That’s why I gave the go-ahead for Rick’s conservation idea as I approached another decade. However…’ She went to say something then closed her mouth. ‘I’m sure you’ve got things to do, Sarah. Lovely talking to you. I’ll catch my grandson tomorrow.’
The lines between her brows looked more due to stress than age.
‘Goodbye, dear.’ She went to stand up. ‘It’s a shame no one can magic up a way of solving my family’s problems. I like to think I’m a good judge of character and you’re an intelligent young woman. You haven’t got an answer, have you?’ There was a sad edge to her jokey tone as she got to her feet. ‘Nice chatting to…’ Her leant forward to the screen. Sat down. Peered at me. ‘That look that just crossed your face.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Canyou see a way to make the island thrive?’
‘No.’ I forced a laugh. ‘I don’t know anything about conservation.’
‘But you booked this stay on Seagrass Island.’
‘Not really, you see my sister won—’
