Page 62 of The Summer Island Swap
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Amy tied my left leg tightly to Rick’s right whilst Jackie stood to one side with her whistle. Across the beach ten couples were lined up. Others stood at the sides to cheer us on, having already had their go in a previous round. Jonas and Benedikt were together and neither had looked so happy since they’d arrived. On the other side of them were their Scottish roommates Alistair and Greg who’d be leaving at the end of this week. Helga had teamed up with Carlotta who’d been standing close to Rick until the pairings were announced. Her chin had practically touched the sand when she’d discovered she wasn’t to be his partner.
Out of necessity Rick and I had an arm around each other’s waists. I’d managed to avoid him during the event so far. The tug of war had been easy, with the staff – permanent volunteers, Rick, Jackie and Malik – playing against a team made up from the rest of us. I hadn’t taken part in the one hundred metres dash. Nor had Rick. Jackie whispered that it was because he always won and felt bad about that.
Why did he have to have such attractive qualities? I knew from crushes on famous people that if someone had an ugly personality their hotness soon diminished. Like the soap star with entrancing green eyes and a snappy dress sense. He’d been caught stealing from a charity he supported and instantly loss his gloss.
Rick’s allure simply increased the more I saw him interact with any living thing. He even gave up his banana for the fruit and spoon race, knowing it would be one of the easiest fruits to balance because of its shape and less smooth texture. He persuaded one of the shyer volunteers, Dario from Spain, to swap with him – told some story about the smell of bananas making him gag. Dario had been given a round, shiny passion fruit that would have easily toppled off. Sure enough, a beaming Dario came first.
We’d had a clothes relay and sack race after one Amy secretly called the starfruit snog. It involved dividing everyone into six big teams. They lined up and then had to pass a starfruit between their necks to win, without using hands. If anyone dropped it on the ground the team had to start again. There was a real knack to pinning the fruit to your chest, with your neck, whilst turning around from one team member to the next. The fruit’s ridged sides helped. Unsurprisingly Amy positioned me not only in the same team, but right next to Rick – even though he’d offered to stand in for Amy several times and let her take part. However, Jackie had insisted Amy had fantastic organisational and leadership skills and was key to the sports day’s success. So we’d got up close. I’d smelt his subtle aftershave. Briefly our skin had touched and I’d tried to ignore the flare of heat in my stomach.
Compared to that, the last race didn’t seem so bad.
‘Everyone ready?’ called Jackie.
I stared straight ahead.
‘Shall we start with our outside foot?’ Rick asked.
‘Sure,’ I said politely.
I didn’t like falling out with anyone. I hated sounding anything like my dad. That’s how he’d sulk with Amy and me, and with his wives – after issuing blatant insults in a matter of fact way, as if there was no doubt his opinion was right, the passive aggressive tone would kick in. He’d be super polite and distant, bearing an unjustified aura of disappointment. This could go on for days. As a result, Anabelle would become more subservient by the hour, cooking his favourite meal, wearing more makeup and even smarter clothes than usual.
It would make me feel sick - and when the ice finally broke and she gratefully fawned over him.
‘Three… two… one…’ Jackie blew her whistle.
I moved forward with my outside leg. Slowly we got into a rhythm and built up pace. The couple on our right shrieked as they tumbled to the ground. I lost my balance halfway along and almost fell but Rick pulled me up. Then he tripped and I righted him. I started counting out loud so that we knew on which beat to move the next leg.
‘Go, Sarah!’ shouted Amy.
Suddenly I wanted to win. I couldn’t be the most knowledgeable conservationist here, or the bravest. Tarantulas still sent shivers down my spine. And Rick clearly thought my hotel proposal was ignorant. But the three-legged race, this small triumph – maybe I could do this.
I counted louder and built up speed. My chest heaved, my pulse raced, my ponytail flicked sharply from side to side. We overtook two couples and I spotted Jackie at the finishing line. The sand felt uneven beneath my feet and we had to steer around a piece of driftwood.
‘Almost there, Sarah, you’re doing brill!’ hollered Amy.
Sure of victory, I pushed forwards even more, spurred on by my little sister. It reminded me of when, about a year after Mum died, I started baking. Anabelle had moved in with us and was always on a diet. Yet she never forced me and Amy to eat more healthily. In fact, she’d send me sympathetic looks when Dad made one of his unkind comments. I saw an old photo of her once. I’d been snooping through her things when she first moved in and found an old album. Anabelle had caught me. Yet she didn’t get angry and let me flick through until I came to some photos of her at high school, with curves and fuller cheeks. She looked great. But at that point she’d taken the album away.
Anyway, her calorie counting meant it was down to me to re-create the comforting snacks Mum had provided. Amy would always be the first to taste my offerings and insist on second helpings, even when I shredded the carrot too thickly and it stayed crunchy in the carrot cake, and when my peppermint biscuits turned out so strong they tasted of mouthwash.
She cheered me again and I ended up running faster than Rick. In the excitement I’d stopped counting.
‘Hold up, Sarah,’ he said. ‘We’re no longer in sync.’
You said it,I almost replied. ‘Try to keep up.’
Rick and I were neck and neck with another couple. We only had a few metres to go. I leant forward, hoping that would help and… Oh no! The front of my toes caught a clump of dried up seaweed and I shot forward. Due to the speed I pulled Rick with me. We both hurtled downwards. His chin ended up in my stomach.
‘Get off!’ I hissed.
He sat up. We looked at each other, his hair spikier than ever. We both spat out sand. The other couple flew past us to the finishing line. Rick reached forward and pulled something from my hair – a vibrant clump of lime green seaweed. Trying to catch my breath, I smoothed down my ponytail. Rick caught my eye, paused and then placed the seaweed on his head. Seawater dripped down his face.
‘That’s a vast improvement,’ I muttered.
Amy came over. ‘Oh, what bad luck! You two almost won.’
She helped me up. Carlotta helped up Rick and, laughing, she took off the seaweed. I couldn’t help bristling at the easy manner between them. We untied our legs and strolled over to water’s edge, whilst everyone else congratulated Amy and Jackie on a brilliant day and headed off to the canteen for cold drinks. I told Amy I’d catch her up. Rick and I started to walk.
