Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance

by Tracy Corbett

  ‘Really?’

  His heart sank. ‘Really. I’ll cancel my holiday.’

  Her little face lit up – and then dropped. He could almost see the clogs whirring as she mulled over the problem. She ate a crisp. Licked her fingers and then moved to sit on his lap. ‘Will you call me every day from the carbon?’

  ‘Caribbean. And yes, of course, I’ll call you every day.’

  ‘And will you face-chat me?’

  ‘FaceTime. Yes. I’ll send you video clips too, if you like.’

  She seemed to consider this. ‘And they definitely do pony-trekking in Wales?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve signed you up for the course. You get to go on hacks every morning. Imagine that? Horseriding every day, not just Saturdays.’

  Her brief smile wavered. ‘And if I get sick you’ll come home?’

  He kissed the end of her nose. ‘Promise.’

  With a deep sigh, she said, ‘Ohkaaaay then.’

  ‘Okay?’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll go to Wales… and you can go to the carbon.’

  He felt the relief wash over him. ‘Thank you, sweetie.’

  He was going to the carbon! …Christ, she had him at it now.

  He needed this. Time away. A break from parenting. A break from work. Time to clear his head and recharge his batteries. No one could say he hadn’t earned this, or that a two-week holiday on a beautiful Caribbean island wasn’t long overdue.

  So why did he feel so bloody guilty at leaving his daughter behind?

  Chapter Three

  Saturday, 13 March

  It was the sudden heat that startled Lilith as she got off the plane at Punta Cana airport. Like a hairdryer blowing into her face. The draft from the huge engines messed her newly-styled hairdo as she descended the steps onto the tarmac.

  Unlike Gatwick, there was no bus to take her to the terminal and no air-conditioned walkway to keep her cool. She had to carry her hand luggage across the open expanse of airfield towards the main building, all the while fanning her face and failing in her attempts to keep cool.

  The thatched building ahead didn’t look like an airport terminal. It looked like a giant beach hut. The area in front was awash with greenery, filled with exotic plants and palm trees.

  A prickle of excitement ran over her skin. Or was it panic? Like it or not, her adventure had begun.

  As she entered the terminal building, she was hit by a wave of noise. The inside looked like a barn, with exposed beams and bare flooring. It was filled with people, all talking and shouting, pushing baggage trolleys around the vast space.

  She queued at the Customs desk, where a solo official didn’t look in any rush to deal with the horde of visitors arriving.

  Lilith – or rather, Lily – as she’d renamed herself for the duration of her holiday, removed the hotel brochure from her shoulder bag. The adults-only Luxury Bahia Resort boasted a beachfront location, three infinity pools, and four à la carte restaurants. Activities on offer included various boat trips, nightly discos, and a range of spa treatments. Talk about luxury.

  She smiled to herself. Her previous self might have felt insecure at the idea of flaunting herself in front of strangers. But new-and-improved ‘Lily’ was hellbent on enjoying herself.

  After all, she didn’t know anyone here. She’d never see any of these people again, so what did it matter if she let her hair down and threw caution to the wind? Exactly.

  And it was better to regret something you’d done than something you hadn’t done, as her grandma used to say. Which was good advice.

  Let’s just hope she felt the same way in two weeks’ time.

  Talking of letting her hair down, she touched her bare neck, enjoying the sensation of her shorter hairdo. It was as though some of the weight she’d been carrying of late had been cut away along with her hair.

  The stylist had been spot on. The warm copper tones accented with blonde highlights had done wonders for her complexion. When she’d arrived home from the hairdressers, she’d spent twenty minutes staring into the mirror admiring her reflection. Boosted by her new look, she’d immediately gone shopping and bought a suitcase full of new outfits, including colourful beachwear and revealing bikinis. She’d even knocked up a couple of sexy evening dresses on her sewing machine.

  It was only when she’d tried them all on that she’d panicked slightly. They were very risqué. Well, probably not for most women her age, but for someone who’d spent the last decade in jeans and hoodies, they felt positively scandalous.

  Shy, timid, Lilith Monroe would never wear such outfits. But new-and-improved ‘Lily’ was relishing the opportunity to be brave and adventurous. Even if new-and-improved Lily was also a bag of nerves.

  The queue ahead moved and she shuffled forwards.

  Wearing her new white sundress and jewelled sandals had felt ridiculous in the cold wet of London, but she was now grateful she’d stuck with her summer outfit. The heat was stifling, enhanced by the mass of bodies filling the terminal. Huge fans whirred above, doing their best to ease the oppression of the heat.

  She fanned her face again, relishing the thought of diving into a cool swimming pool later.

  The queue shifted ahead and she reached the cubicle and presented her passport.

  ‘Welcome to the Caribbean,’ the official said with a laid-back drawl. ‘Enjoy your stay.’ He handed her passport back.

  ‘Thank you, I intend to.’ She moved into the main area and searched for the screens showing which conveyor belt her luggage would be on.

  She wasn’t a seasoned traveller, by any stretch of the imagination. She wasn’t sure which was more daunting: Gatwick, with its multitude of screens and string of departure gates, or the antiquated Caribbean airport, with only three conveyor belts and mass of holidaymakers all vying to read the blurred text on the solitary screen.

  By the time Lily reached the correct conveyor belt, the crowd of people was three-deep, preventing her from getting near the moving luggage.

  Thankfully, she’d tied a red ribbon around her suitcase, a tip from Taye, so she could distinguish her suitcase from all the other black cases being tossed around the conveyor belt.

  Some people waited patiently, checking their phones, or chatting to their travelling companions. Others jostled to the front, eager to get their holiday underway.

  Lily waited, figuring the crowd would quickly disperse once everyone had collected their luggage and headed outside to the waiting transfers.

  And then she spotted her suitcase.

  She moved forwards, hoping to grab it. She squeezed through the tight gap in the people around her – but she wasn’t quick enough, and the case was gone before she could reach it.

  Oh, well. It would come around again soon enough.

  An opening appeared further down in the conveyor belt crowd, so she moved into it, accidentally treading on a man’s foot. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, glancing up at a good-looking man wearing dark shades. ‘I do apologise.’ She felt her face flush.

  ‘No worries,’ he said, reaching out to steady her. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes, sorry.’ She stepped away, slightly flustered by the warmth of his hand touching her arm. It spoke volumes about her lack of contact with the opposite sex that a man touching her arm could create such a buzz in her blood. Talk about repressed.

  He offered her a brief smile and returned to typing on his phone.

  She fanned her face, the heat in her cheeks no longer solely down to the warm weather.

  And then the crowd surged again and Lily was jostled out of the way as a couple in front swung their bags off the conveyor belt, and nearly took her legs out from under her in the process. Baggage claim was dangerous stuff. She needed to keep her wits about her.

  Her suitcase reappeared, trapped beneath another bag at a funny angle. Keeping her eyes locked on her luggage, she waited until the bag was almost level before reaching forwards.

  She managed to catch the strap and tugged hard, but
the bag was too heavy to shift off the moving machinery. She found herself being dragged along, almost running to keep up with it.

  She tugged again, but the bag caught on the edge of the belt. Instead of falling backwards with her bag in tow, she fell headlong onto the conveyor. She landed with a thump, banging her knees on the metal.

  ‘Let go of the bag,’ a man yelled from behind her.

  She looked up and realised she was about to disappear through the rubber flaps at the end of the conveyor belt. Oh, hell.

  She let go of the bag, but there was no way she could get up.

  Then a pair of hands grabbed her by the waist and lifted her.

  She was now airborne, travelling backwards through the air, unable to do anything other than yelp. Overcome by momentum, they continued flying backwards until they hit the ground with an almighty thud.

  The man underneath her let out a loud groan as they landed. Which wasn’t surprising, as he had taken the full force of her body weight.

  It was hard to move. She felt like a cockroach stranded on its back, unable to turn over. The man continued to moan as she tried to roll off him. Her elbow connected with his ribs. Her sandal scraped down his bare shin and her head clocked his chin as she flipped her body over.

  ‘Please stop moving,’ he groaned.

  She did. Except she was now on top of him. Face down. One arm either side of him, her chest pressed against his, one knee balancing precariously between his legs.

  She blinked, her brain taking a moment to catch up with her eyes. It was the man whose foot she’d trodden on. The good-looking one. Now minus his sunglasses, she saw he had a pair of disarming blue-grey eyes. Goodness.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to him – for the second time in as many minutes. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘I will be if your knee moves any higher.’

  Her knee. Right, yes, it was in a rather delicate place.

  Come to think of it, their entire position was delicate. She was lying on top of him, her body pressed against his, their faces inches apart. This was not an everyday occurrence. Not for her, anyway. Still, no one could say she wasn’t shifting out of her comfort zone.

  ‘How do you suggest we extricate ourselves without causing further injury?’ she said, aware of the warmth radiating off him. He smelt faintly of aftershave and peppermints.

  ‘I’ll lift you,’ he said, and then hesitated. ‘If that’s okay?’

  ‘Sure. I mean, I don’t have any better ideas.’

  They were surrounded by an audience. People had gathered to watch. Some enquired if they needed medical attention. Others stared, enjoying the floorshow and filming the commotion. Great. No doubt the footage would be uploaded to various social media sites before the day was out.

  And to think she’d thought buying revealing bikinis was scandalous? It was nothing compared to this.

  The man’s arms encircled her body again, and holding tightly, he gently rolled her off him.

  Talk about smooth.

  When their bodies had locked together, something rather alarming had happened to her insides. Dormant nerve endings jumped to life, and her body felt like it was awakening from a deep slumber, as if to say, ‘Well, hello there.’

  The man got to his feet, wincing.

  Oh, dear. He didn’t look particularly happy. But then he offered her his hand and pulled her upright. ‘Are you hurt?’

  She shook her head. ‘You?’

  ‘Nothing broken.’ He rubbed his chest. ‘I hope.’

  ‘Thank you so much for rescuing me. It was very brave of you.’

  He laughed. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘It was. I mean, I nearly disappeared down the luggage chute.’

  His face relaxed into a smile. ‘True. It wouldn’t be the best start to your holiday.’

  ‘No, I could’ve been knocked unconscious, loaded back on the plane and returned to the UK without so much as having had a single Pina Colada.’

  He grinned. ‘That wouldn’t do.’

  ‘No, indeed.’

  But then Lily was distracted by shouting. ‘Miss! Miss, I have your bag!’ She turned to see one of the porters dragging her suitcase behind him. ‘I rescue your bag!’ he said, grinding to a halt. ‘I take you to your transfer, yes?’

  ‘Oh, right. Yes, thank you, that would be helpful.’ She turned back to the man who’d helped her. ‘Thanks again for your help, Mr… err?’

  He picked up his bent sunglasses from the floor. ‘Will.’

  ‘Mr Will… Right. Sorry again for squashing you… and your sunglasses.’

  He had a wry smile on his face. ‘No problem. Enjoy your holiday.’

  ‘You too.’

  ‘This way, Miss! Come. Transfer this way.’ The porter ushered her away.

  She glanced back to find the man still watching her, a puzzled look on his face. She could hardly blame him. Poor man.

  Not quite the start to her holiday she’d imagined. But at least she and her luggage were in one piece.

  The porter led her outside to a waiting coach. The engine was running and she realised she was the last passenger to board. The driver gave her a filthy look as she made her way down the aisle and took the last remaining seat at the back.

  Thankfully, the transfer time was only twenty minutes. She couldn’t see much out of the windows, just the occasional palm tree flashing by.

  They made two stops at other hotels before reaching The Luxury Bahia Resort.

  As the coach drove up the long winding driveway, her excitement intensified.

  The hotel looked amazing. It was huge, with signs for a golf course, tennis courts, and a fashion boutique. Not that she needed any more clothes. She’d already spent her allocated amount.

  She exited the coach and went to collect her suitcase. A hotel porter had already unloaded it and was carrying it to a waiting buggy. ‘You check in, Miss, and then return to me so I can take you to your room. Yes?’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ She headed for Reception. It all seemed very efficient.

  The lobby was huge with a high ceiling and marble floor. Several grand chandeliers hung down from the white ceiling, adorned with gold accessories. Talk about opulent.

  Having checked in, she returned to the waiting buggy armed with her room key, complimentary vouchers for the disco and an invite to welcome drinks in the bar this evening.

  She climbed onto the buggy’s rear seat, and almost fell off when it pulled away. What was wrong with her today? It was probably a lack of concentration. She was so busy admiring her surroundings, she wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing.

  Facing backwards, she could see the hotel in all its glory as they drove off. And boy, what a sight. Plants with huge leaves lined the pathways. Palm trees everywhere, their trunks bare, with an abundance of gigantic leaves sprouting from the top, like bottles of exploding champagne.

  The buggy stopped outside a two-storey building. The driver jumped out and beckoned for her to follow. He led her to a wide entrance, flanked by two large potted plants, and wheeled her suitcase towards a lift.

  He showed her to her room on the first floor, deposited her suitcase inside, and thanked her when she tipped him. She’d never tipped a bellboy before. That was something else she could strike from her wish list.

  She laughed when she saw her room. It was bigger than her grandparents’ flat. It contained a queen-sized bed, with a cabinet either side, and a large padded headboard attached to the wall. A huge flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite. But the best bit was the air-conditioning. The room was wonderfully cool, a welcome relief from the oppressive heat.

  She went into the bathroom and looked in awe at the walk-in shower cubicle and double sink.

  Returning to the bedroom, she headed for the seating area at the end, where a sofa, two chairs and a small writing table sat in front of a set of French doors, leading onto the balcony.

  She pulled back the voile curtains and slid open the doors. The heat hit her immediately, so she clos
ed them behind her.

  Leaning on the balcony, she stared at the view ahead. It was mostly palm trees, so tall they extended way past the height of the building. In between the gaps, she could make out the blue of the sea beyond. The sound of crickets and the smell of coconut washed over her. She breathed deeply, savouring the moment. She was in the Caribbean.

  Laughing, she returned to the French doors, intending to shower and go for a swim at the beach, but the doors wouldn’t open. She tried again, pulling on the handle, but they appeared to be locked.

  Strange. She looked over the edge of the railings, hoping to see a passer-by that she could call down to for help. But the pathways below were empty. What to do?

  She tried the doors again, just to be certain, but they were definitely locked.

  Damn.

  Could she climb down? She assessed the drop below. Dense foliage clung to the walls of the building, thick and sturdy, like a fairy tale beanstalk. It was too far to jump, but climbing down was an option.

  It was that, or wait for someone to randomly walk by. But that might be hours. And she’d be burnt to a crisp by then in this heat.

  Resigned to her situation, she tucked her dress inside her knickers and climbed over the edge. The first part was relatively easy. She was lulled into a false sense of security, imagining herself ground level in a matter of minutes.

  Unfortunately, as her body weight tugged on the foliage, it began to come away from the wall. By the time she’d realised she was in danger of falling, it was too late to abort her plan. She was stuck. No way up, no way down.

  And then a man’s voice said, ‘Bloody hell, what are you doing?’

  She was so startled she almost lost her grip. ‘Err… I… I locked myself out. I’m trying to climb down,’ she said, too scared to look away from the wall.

  ‘I can see that. Stay there,’ he called.

  She was hardly likely to go anywhere, was she?

  She heard dragging metal and various banging noises below.

  Further grunts were followed by a voice saying, ‘Can you move further to the right?’

  ‘Your right, or mine?’

  ‘Your right,’ he said, his voice sounding oddly familiar. ‘And they’re both the same.’