Page 80 of The Summer Island Swap
‘You lied to him, Sarah. What was he supposed to think?’ Her shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘He’s nothing like Dad. Trust me, if he was, I’d be the first to chase him away, but you’ve seen his passion for the environment, his love for Chatty – our dad never put anything or anyone before himself.’
Something stirred inside me. It didn’t feel good. ‘But… but what about Sebastian who broke your heart and split up with you the day after your twenty-first birthday? He was a smooth charmer, just like Dad. You were so upset afterwards.’
Amy’s face blushed a deep pink.
‘Sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it.’ I put away my drink.
We started to walk down the hill.
‘I don’t want to discuss it, Sarah, but not because of what you’re thinking. The truth is… I’m not proud but it wasmethat cheated onhim. A friend of mine got drunk at the party and let slip that I’d had a one-night stand. It was someone I met in a nightclub. A stupid mistake. To be honest I was getting bored with the relationship but didn’t have the guts to tell Sebastian. He was a good guy, Sarah. A perfect gent. Fun. Loyal. Honest.’
I spotted an iguana but didn’t even point it out to Amy. Sebastian was in the clear? It was Amy who’d cheated on him? So… when it came to romance had I been playing unnecessarily safe? Amy and I should have talked about all this years ago.
‘You must be ashamed of me,’ she muttered.
‘No. We’ve all made mistakes. You’ll have learnt from it.’
‘God, yes. I’ve never cheated since and wouldn’t again.’
We continued through the forest. The chirp of crickets drowned out our silence. That was one thing I liked about Rick – our friendship felt comfortable. I never felt the need to fill any gaps in our conversation with small talk. Finally, we reached the beach and took off our shoes. The fluid wet sand felt blissful.
‘We’ll stay here, well away from the nesting site,’ said Amy.
‘Agreed.’ I threw down the rucksack, rolled up my trousers and headed into the waves.
I shivered and looked up. More clouds had appeared and huddled together. The strong breeze had built into a wind. Amy sat on the beach and examined a shell. I turned back to the water and stared at the horizon. The swell of the waves looked steeper than normal.
‘When the clouds have moved off and the wind has died, let’s go for a swim,’ I called.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Amy and stood up. ‘I’m going to collect shells. This is the last free weekend. Next Saturday it’ll all be over.’
I looked down into the shallow water as clear as a tear drop and bent down to pick up a piece of bright green pottery, shifting up and down with the ebb of the waves. I ran over to Amy and gave it to her.
‘Isn’t it pretty? Remember how we used to dig in the garden for pottery fragments, thinking they were treasure?’
‘Yes. Mum would help us wash them. Later, Anabelle wasn’t interested so you’d do it with me.’ She put the ceramic triangle into her pocket. ‘The pieces we found reminded me of our family, once Mum died. Broken. Scattered. Never to be whole again.’ She looked at me. ‘I blamed Dad for smashing it up, with his cruel words. Mum did a good job of acting like the glue and keeping us together, smoothing over arguments, making sure you and I were mostly seen but not heard.’
I’d tried so hard to make her childhood happy; hoped that most of the sadness swerved by her. It hadn’t.
‘However, I used to think it might have been better if Mum wasn’t the glue,’ she continued. ‘If instead she left the fragments of our family behind and took you and me away, the three of us to build something new.’
‘Me too.’ I slipped my arms around her shoulders. We stood for a while until goose bumps appeared on our arms. ‘I wish I’d brought a fleece. It doesn’t look as if this weather is shifting. Perhaps Malik was right. He mentioned a storm. I didn’t think it likely.’
Amy studied the sky. ‘Look how dark those ones have become. We haven’t got protective clothing either. I hate to say it, but perhaps we should head back.’
A speck of rain fell onto my skin and overhead a flock of sea birds left the island.
‘Let’s take refuge in the forest until it blows over,’ I said.
Amy picked up the rucksack and I followed her off the sand, jumping as a clap of thunder sounded. Large globules of rain pelted down. We ran the last few steps and stood under the canopy of leaves. Then everything became much worse, very quickly. Lightning jabbed the horizon. Huge waves threw themselves onto the beach instead of gently stroking the sand. Palm trees leant from side to side. The tall rainforest canopy parted. Torrents of rain fell down. We lifted large glossy leaves above our heads but the weight of water meant that they didn’t say horizontal.
Thanks goodness we’d managed to rescue Chatty before this weather hit.
For half an hour we sat underneath a tree, soaking, teeth chattering. Cracks of lightning punctuated the steady beat of rain like an out of place exclamation mark in a sentence. I forced a smile when Amy looked at me. She didn’t smile back.
‘You don’t think… a hurricane… it couldn’t be another, could it?’ she asked.
My instincts compelled me to say automatically that no, don’t be silly, this is just a freak rain shower.
