Page 9 of The Summer Island Swap
His face relaxed.
‘But what’s not to like about a month in the Virgin Islands?’ I asked.
‘I’d rather be at home for the summer with my vinyls and guitar. Helga’s always been the outdoorsy type, like my parents, and naturally suited to our childhood Black Forest home – whereas I’d have been happier in a high-rise apartment in a city like Hamburg where I studied. I was just talking to Benedikt – he’s so lucky to have grown up there.’
‘Have you finished university now?’
‘Yes. We’ve both just completed the final year. Helga did Environmental Studies in Munich. Me, Computer Science. I scraped through.’
‘Your parents must have been tempted to join you here,’ I said and laughed as we climbed aboard, imagining that there couldn’t have been a worse scenario idea than that for two twenty-one-year-olds abroad.
I would have hated it – but only because of Dad. If Mum had still been alive, I’d have loved to go somewhere glamorous with her, like this place or the south of France. We’d have bought exotic ice creams and gone shopping.
Shallow water swished across the floor of the boat. Jonas clasped his hands and looked warily out to sea. I patted his shoulder. ‘I’m out of my comfort zone too. My sister bought this break as a surprise present. I haven’t been on holiday for ten years.’
‘She got you this? And I thought I was out of luck,’ he said and grinned.
I rolled my eyes and nodded but didn’t really understand what he meant, sensing again that something was off.
A woman with bobbed curly caramel hair stood in the bow cockpit. She and Rick chatted for a moment before he donned a brown jungle fedora hat and took the steering wheel. With ease he guided the boat away from the jetty. Noisily it chugged. A bird with a white belly and dark head and wings flew overhead. Someone called it a Brown Booby. I thought that called for a joke but none of the native English obliged. With serious expressions everyone else took photos.
The boat hugged the ocean’s swell and the horizon bobbed up and down. Up and down. Deep and high. A wave of nausea lapped against the back of my throat. I even stopped whistling. That was a habit. I used to whistle as a child, when I got nervous. It helped me cope with the atmosphere when Dad was in one of his moods.
As I’d grown older, I whistled for other reasons too, when I was on my own. A good day at work. A fun evening cooking with Amy. But old habits died hard and if I was out of my comfort zone my lips rolled into an ‘o’ shape and – unfortunately for everyone else – a not very pleasant sound came out. Amy was the musical one.
I’d forgotten that I used to get seasickness. Dad would tell me to get a grip. I started to pray for the journey to end and closed my eyes…
‘Wake up sleepy head, we’re almost there,’ said Amy. I squinted and relief flushed through me as the boat aimed for an island ahead. It was oval-shaped and covered with foliage that became mountainous on the right-hand side. I felt as if I were in one of those movies where we’d land and dinosaurs from another era would appear. Perhaps there would be a Caribbean band playing to welcome us, and coconut and pineapple cocktails. Not that I’d be able to drink one. I staggered to stern. Helga called after me that seasickness could be defeated by visualising calm waters.
It didn’t work.
As we approached the island there was no calypso music. No aroma of rum. In fact, a wrecked boat lay on the beach, amongst unkempt bushes. In parts, fallen-down trees lay across the sand, along with strewn seaweed and shells. The jetty looked worn. The woman steered now and Rick cleared his throat loudly. He took off his hat, ran fingers through his spiked hair, and put it back on.
‘Almost there, folks. Thanks again for booking with us. We’ll disembark and then I’ll run you through a few basics about your stay. As you’ll know from the website, my family own Seagrass Island and I’ve been in charge of restoring it since Hurricane Irma in 2017.’
‘I remember seeing that storm on the news,’ I said to Amy and gave a low burp. ‘Richard Branson’s place was trashed. That international luxury hotelier magazine I subscribe to featured it recently. He was back in business a year later, everything fully restored.’ Despite the nausea, I managed a smile. ‘If Rick’s family have had enough money to own an island then they’ll have been able to afford an opulent rebuild. Our rooms should look even more immaculate than they ever did before.’
‘No. You’re wrong. It must have been a real struggle because…’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘Surprise! I’ve been dying to tell you, these last couple of weeks… I swapped plans at the last minute, a few days before the full payment was due for the other luxury stay. I swapped islands. Swapped holidays. Instead of paying the full amount for the high-end hotel trip when I went online, I booked and paid for four weeks living as part of a community, camping out and contributing to conservation. That’s the only stay available here.’
The feeling of sickness swelled.
‘That day we went clothes shopping for this holiday… how you talked about using these four weeks to draw together a personal statement for your CV – I realised the break I’d planned was too much like your everyday routine at work. So instead I looked for a true escape from your daily life. No one should be doing career research when they are taking a break. The way you spoke so fondly of guide camp… how you felt grown-ups became complacent… I promise you, Sarah, there’s nothing about the next four weeks that is going to remind you of Best Travel or the hotel industry or any of your responsibilities there.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘It’s been really hard to keep this secret as I knew you’d be so excited at the prospect of such an adventure.’
I stared at Amy.
No pastry pyramids? No hot tub or opulent beach huts? No evening entertainment or Netflix?
I blinked several times before leaning overboard and throwing up.
5
Jonas rummaged in the pockets of his trousers. He handed me some tissues. I wiped my mouth.
‘Happens every time,’ said Rick as he came over. ‘I must put a reminder on the website for people to bring travel sickness pills. The waters around Seagrass Island can get pretty choppy. It’s because we lie in the belt of the Trade Winds. They are at their strongest in July. It’s why the Virgin Islands are great for sailing.’
He draped an arm around my shoulders and steered me off the boat and onto the jetty. He let go as soon as we were on solid land.
Rick felt solid. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been held in arms like that. Helga shot me a piteous look and delved into her rucksack. She offered me her bottle of water.
