Page 79 of The Summer Island Swap
‘I’m deadly serious,’ I said as we stopped to examine a pod that had fallen onto the ground. I picked up a stone and smashed it several times in the middle before prising the tough skin apart.
‘Wow,’ said Amy. ‘The inside looks like a white, slimey pine cone.’
Carefully I took that part out and we both breathed in.
Amy pulled a face. ‘It has a chemical smell.’
I sniffed again. ‘Yes, but also a fruity fragrance. Apparently the white flesh covering the beans is edible.’
‘No way am I eating that!’
I pulled out a clump, counted to three and put it in my mouth.
Slimy, slippery and not completely unpleasant, but nowhere near as delicious as chocolate… I swilled it around in my mouth and finally pulled out a recognisable bean.
‘That’s amazing,’ said Amy.
I slipped it in my pocket and we continued our walk, passing sugar apple trees. Just before the top of the hill I tripped over a root and landed in a face full of soil. Laughing, Amy helped me to my feet. I brushed down my trousers and winced before joining in.
‘Everything okay?’ she asked.
I leant against a palm tree. We both drank out of our water bottles. No, it wasn’t. I was thinking about Dad. I didn’t often mention him to Amy, for fear of bringing back bad memories. But she was strong, I was realising that. Maybe I’d been wrong. Perhaps it would help her – both of us – to talk more about our childhood.
‘Remember when we went out for that meal for Dad’s birthday? I was fourteen,’ I said tentatively. ‘You’d have been ten. We were meeting an important client of his, with their family. He used his big day as an excuse to take them out for a posh meal and claim it all on expenses.’
Amy thought for a moment. ‘The restaurant with swings for chairs? And a waterfall in the middle? Yes, it was unforgettably lush and I also remember because beforehand…’ She looked at me.
‘I tripped and fell outside and laddered my tights,’ I said. ‘Dad was absolutely furious. He didn’t even ask if I was all right. I couldn’t help crying. It was a bad graze, full of gravel.’
‘I went with you to the toilets and helped wash it out. He wanted Anabelle to stay with him.’
‘His only concern was presenting the image of an idyllic family, with his slicked back hair and Italian cut suits and that stupid, oh so highbrow accent he’d put on when talking to anyone related to business. I commented on that once. I thought it was funny. But he shouted so loudly. Told me to never make fun of him again. I thought he was going to hit me. Fortunately, Anabelle stepped in.’
I waited for Amy to tear up at the memory.
Instead she surprised me.
‘But just look at how we turned out,’ she said. ‘It hasn’t defined us. We’ve both had relationships – some good, some bad – that’s normal. He didn’t put us off men for life. He just made it clear what we don’t want in a relationship. I’d say that makes us winners.’
Normally I would have nodded and changed the subject. But me and Amy – our relationship was heading towards a more open territory…
‘But aren’t you wary of his type? You know, good-looking, charismatic…’
‘Like Rick?’ She smiled.
‘To be honest, Amy, I’ve always steered clear of anyone remotely like him.’
‘You mean sexy as hell?’ She pushed my shoulder.
‘I’m serious.’ I took another swig. It was as if the water was alcohol and loosening my tongue. ‘That’s why all of my previous boyfriends have been more…’
‘Like friends? Really?’ The humour left her face.
‘It’s been scary, meeting Rick and feeling such a strong attraction.’
‘Sarah… Rick isn’t Dad. He was a one-off. Just because a guy’s good-looking and confident doesn’t mean he shares Dad’s crap qualities as well.’
‘But Rick’s hurt me, all the same. He’s accused me of—’
