Page 61 of The Summer Island Swap
‘The sports day will start in one hour, at eleven o’clock,’ announced Rick as he stood up.
He didn’t look at me. It hurt. Right in the middle of my chest.
‘We’ll meet on the beach. If things get a bit boisterous it’s better to fall on the sand than hard ground.’
It felt odd having free time during the day. Normally we’d have just returned from a turtle trip, bird counting or trail clearing and would be heading to bed for a short nap before lunch and the afternoon’s activity. Last weekend, when we’d gone into Tortola, I’d bought a handful of postcards. Maybe I’d go back to my shack and write them. Mrs Chips, my next-door neighbour, would be waiting for hers. I liked her almost as much as her surname. She’d become widowed five years ago and we often swapped news as we met, walking into our block of flats. This last year I’d helped her with cleaning and shopping after a fall she had, followed by a bad cold – or just to talk. In return she baked me the most amazing cakes.
I didn’t have many people to write to. The only things of importance to me, back in England, were inhuman ones like Nelly, my career and my flat.
I had no partner.
No mum or dad.
Dad didn’t count. He’d alienated his relatives over the years, making it clear he thought he was better than them. Even his own parents.
Same with Mum’s. He’d isolated her. I could see that as I became older. He did the same with Anabelle. I caught her crying, one day.
‘Cherish your younger sister, Sarah,’ she’d said. ‘I really miss mine.’
‘But she only lives in Nottingham, doesn’t she? That’s not the other side of the world.’
She’d dabbed her eyes. ‘Your dad says it’s too far. He works so hard to provide for us he needs the weekend to relax. And, he’s right, of course,’ she’d added in a shaky voice. ‘We should all be grateful to him for the comfortable life we have.’
‘Well, I’m never letting a man get in between me and Amy,’ I’d declared hotly.
‘I hope not,’ she’d said in a low voice, even though he wasn’t in the house. ‘Although… it’s not always as easy as that; not when you fall in love.’
I’d grimaced and hadn’t understood at the time. But as I got older, I learnt more about domestic abuse. Anabelle’s bruises were emotional ones. Ones I’d never have seen as a child.
Amy and I hadn’t got to know aunts and uncles. I’d never seen my cousins. If I owned an island like this one, I didn’t know who I’d invite over to stay. And there was nothing wrong with that, I told myself briskly and stood up. Relying on other people was dangerous. It was much better to be completely independent. My chair scraped the basic tiled floor. Jonas had cleared the plates. I squinted as I headed out into the sunshine. I needed to clear my head.
First, I’d take a stroll along the beach. My cap was on. I’d applied sun cream first thing – I’d taken on a new morning regime that was far simpler than cosmetic one back in England. The bites and blisters still annoyed me but I’d slowly acclimatised to the heat. Without realising it the camp was becoming a home, just like the basic bed and breakfast had when I first moved out. Perhaps that’s why the human species had survived so well. It was good at adapting.
I smiled and listened to myself coming over all biological since living on Seagrass Island. I arrived at the beach and pulled off my trainers and socks. I left them in a pile and headed to the water’s edge, bent down and rolled up my trousers. Gentle waves welcomed my toes, like old friends. I whistled a tune, determined to shake off any negativity. A squeak joined in. I turned around and looked up to see Rick and Chatty.
I whistled ‘Daydream Believer’, ignoring Rick’s gaze. He crouched as I reached up to Chatty who crossed onto me.
‘He recognises that tune of yours better than any voice,’ said Rick. ‘It normally takes him longer to take to a new person. His tail wrapped around your neck is the ultimate accolade. He doesn’t even do that with Jackie.’
Its furriness tickled the skin below my ears. With one arm raised so that I could scratch the monkey’s head, I turned back to the horizon. In the distance, yachts skimmed the water’s surface. Further along, to the right, shouts and screams led me to notice Carlotta and her friends played ball in the sea. She spotted Rick and strode out of the ocean in a white bikini, like Ursula Andress in that Bond movie. All that was missing was a knife strapped to her bottoms. She ran up to Rick and on tiptoe put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Is it still okay to come around to yours later, bello?’
Bello?
‘Sure thing.’
She grinned at me before running off.
‘Carlotta… her and me… it’s…’
‘None of my business,’ I said.
Rick moved forwards and stood by my side. His fingers intertwined with mine. For a moment I forgot myself and squeezed his back. Then I stepped away and glared.
‘No. I’m sorry. After saying I’m ignorant about the needs here and only out for myself? Believing that I went purposefully behind your back? All of this…’ I batted the air between our hands. ‘I don’t think so.’ Gently I unwound Chatty’s tail, lifted him down, kissed him on the head and placed him back on Rick’s shoulder, even though he stretched out his little furry arms to come back. ‘You and me… whatever it was… it’s over now. I’ve helped you with your website. Passed on my luxury hotel proposal to you and your family. I’m done. You can easily find another manager if my idea does go ahead. Let’s leave it at that.’
I ran across the sand as fast as I could, as if the sports day had already started.
