Grabbing my sunglasses, a bargain find from the local charity shop, and my book, I walked through the French doors and followed the path to the beach. The flower border opened up onto a pristine, near-white sand beach. Carla was already stretched out on one of the two double wooden sunbeds.
“Wow,” I said.
“Wow, indeed. I’d literally just plonked my arse down when a waiter appeared with a menu and took a drinks order.”
“Look at the colour of that sea.”
Close to the shore it was as if God had taken a glass of glacial water and dripped one drop of blue dye in it. As I approached the water’s edge I could see through the water to every ripple of fine sand. I waded in. The water was warm, small fish darted past my legs the deeper I went. In the distance I could see the edge of the reef and the colour changed to a deep blue, the same blue as Stefan’s eyes.
I made my way back to the sunbed.
“The water is so warm,” I said.
“Maybe we’ll get some snorkelling stuff,” Carla replied.
Carla was reading through the island brochure; she detailed the spa treatments on offer and a list of activities.
“Sure beats Cornwall,” I said with a laugh.
Every year of our childhood the whole street would pack up their cars and drive the seven or so hours it took back then to Cornwall. Days were spent on the beach getting sunburned and evenings in the clubhouse on site. Our parents would rent little wooden chalets, the same ones year after year.
“Do you remember the body boards?” Carla said.
“God, yes. I also remember the splinters and grazes.”
We had wooden body boards that we’d try to surf on, and by the end of our week, all the kids had splinters in their feet and grazes on their knees.
My favourite memory of those holidays was being carried to bed each night by my dad, salty hair all tangled and skin peeling. Those were the best holidays I’d ever had.
“We had so much fun back then, didn’t we?” she said.
“Do you remember our life plan?” I asked.
One evening, I think we were teens at that point, we’d sat on the beach with our friends, none of whom we saw anymore, and wrote our life plan. I wanted to travel the world, to help rebuild communities in poverty stricken regions, photograph wildlife in Africa, and rescue the children of Ethiopia. I wanted to leave a legacy. I hadn’t done any of it. Sadness swept over me. Instead, I’d left school, went to college, worked for a few years before meeting Michael, and any thoughts of a life plan were squashed.
“There’s still time,” Carla said quietly. I looked over to her. “There’s still time to do some of those things. I can see what you’re thinking.”
I smiled. “One day,” I said.
We settled back as the waiter appeared with cold drinks and read our books. We could chat or we could sit in silence; just being with my best friend in the place the word paradise was invented was a joy.
Before we dressed for dinner I rubbed moisturiser on my already pink skin. Freckles covered my arms and across my nose. I’d hated my freckles when I was a child, wishing them gone. My dad had told me they were left there by my soul each evening. It would leave my body when I slept to party, pinching me before it did so it could recognise me on its return. I’d believed that for years. As I grew older I began to love my freckles. It was only when they joined up that my skin coloured, gave the illusion of a tan.
“I do believe it’s cocktail hour, so will you hurry up,” Carla said.
The island was an hour ahead from the rest of the Maldives; cocktail hour was as the sun set. We opted to walk to the end of the island along the shore and to the bar that jutted out into the sea. It was another open sided building with soft sofas placed around small wooden tables. We chose to sit opposite each other on sofas placed on the veranda.
As a waiter came to take our order, I noticed Stefan and Morton enter, he caught my eye and both strode over.
“Do you mind if we join you?” he asked.
“Of course not. Have you settled in?” Carla replied.
Stefan took the seat next to me. He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa and although nowhere near me, I felt a tingle across the back of my neck. My stomach knotted and I felt the blush creep up my cheeks at his proximity.
“You said you’ve been to the Maldives before. When was that?” I asked.
He shuffled so he faced me.
“We come here for the scuba diving. Last time was a couple of years ago now.”
“Scuba diving, wow! We might go snorkelling but I don’t think I could do that.”
I was rambling, mumbling into my drink; I wasn’t used to having a conversation with a man. In fact, other than the kids, Carla, and the dog, I don’t remember the last time I said anything more than a passing ‘good morning’ or to ask for goods in one of the local shops.
“Where are you from?” I asked. I’d struggled to place his accent.
“Denmark. Aalborg. It’s a beautiful place, coastal.”
The conversation flowed. We talked about his diving, my dog, our children but neither mentioned partners. He was easy to talk to and I found myself comfortable in his presence. A second round of drinks were ordered and, although such a small thing, it pleased me to hear him ask for the same drink I’d had before. Just the fact he’d remembered made me smile. Every now and again Carla caught my eye. Her eyebrows were slightly raised and she smiled.
“Would you like to join us for dinner?” Carla asked. I could have kissed and kicked her equally.
“That would be great,” Morton replied.
We stood and walked the short distance along the beach to one of the three restaurants on the island. Having the menu in front of me gave me the shield I needed. As much as I’d enjoyed talking with Stefan in the bar, I was feeling confused. He took the chair opposite and turned his head to speak to his friend. I studied his profile. His hair fell over his forehead and my fingers twitched with the desire to brush it from his eyes. His jaw line was chiselled to perfection, and I watched the way his mouth moved as he spoke, the way his tongue ran over his lower lip occasionally, and a thought flashed through my mind—I wanted to bite that lip. I blinked rapidly to rid myself of such thoughts.
My hands shook slightly as I held the menu up to cover my face. I saw his fingers grip the top of my menu and he gently pulled it away, turned it the correct way up and handed it back with a smile.
“That might work better,” he said. I sunk in my chair to hide.
With orders placed and the menu removed, I had nothing to hide behind. As much as the conversation had been easy in the bar, as the evening wore on, I was feeling more and more conflicted. I enjoyed spending time with him; I wanted to spend more time just talking. He did something I wasn’t used to; he listened. He found what I told him interesting but it felt wrong. The thoughts running through my mind felt wrong, the feelings coursing through my body felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.
Stefan, Morton and Carla chatted through dinner. I picked at my meal, pushing most of it around the plate. It was delicious, although Indian was not a particular favourite of mine, but I’d lost my appetite. When the meal was done and the plates cleared away, I looked up from my lap and caught Stefan smiling at me.
“Time difference caught up with you?” he asked.
“I think so. I’m sorry I’m a little quiet. I guess I’m tired.”
“No need to apologise. How about a coffee?”
“Why don’t we all head back to the bar?” Carla added.
I nodded, although heading to bed was more of a temptation. Once bills were signed for, we rose from the table and I tensed as Stefan placed his hand on my lower back to guide me through the neighbouring tables. His touch had caused an electrical pulse to shoot through me, ending between my thighs.
Carla and I made our way to the same sofas we’d sat on earlier while the guys went to the bar with our orders.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
<
br /> “No. Talk about it later?”
She nodded but I saw the concern flash through her eyes.
“I think I’m jet lagged, nothing to worry about,” I added.
My latte was placed on the small table in front of me and Stefan sat opposite. I’d made a point of sitting next to Carla. He lounged back, one foot rested on the opposite knee and sipped his coffee.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asked.
“Sunbathe and explore the island, I think. Carla wants to spend some time in the spa. You?”
“We’re diving in the morning. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Tell me about your diving?”
He leant forwards slightly; his face became animated as he spoke. He told me about the many countries he’d visited, the seas he’d dived in and the underwater photographs he’d taken. Photography was a hobby of mine and I felt more comfortable as the evening went on. We had something in common. It seemed there were two conversations happening, Stefan and me, Morton and Carla. I detected a little spark between those two. Both guys were good looking, tall, athletic in build and fit. Being the shortest, with the darkest hair and the fairest skin, I felt dowdy sitting amongst them.
Stefan yawned; he stretched his arms above his head and his white t-shirt rose, showing defined abs and a trail of soft blond hair on an already tanned stomach leading to the top of his jeans. Again, my face flushed as I stared.
“I think it’s time we headed to bed. We’ll see you tomorrow maybe?” he said.
I nodded as he rose.
“Goodnight, ladies,” Morton said, giving Carla a wink. The guys left.
“Phew!” I heard.
“Phew, indeed. You seem to be getting along with Morton.”
“No talk about me. What is going on with you, Miss Adams? I’ve never heard you talk as much.”
Carla never referred to me by my married name; it was her way of not acknowledging Michael.
“He’s easy to talk to, I guess.” I blushed, yet again.
She smirked at me. “Mmm, you have the feels?”
“Will you stop with all your ‘feels’ and ‘fancy tingles’. He’s a nice guy being polite, I imagine. He’s not interested in me.”
“I beg to differ. Do you like him?”
“If I was a teenager, yes. I’m forty-five and married. I don’t ‘like’ other men.”
“We are on a beautiful island with two beautiful men. It’s okay to have a little fun.”
“I’m married, Carla.”
“Yes, to an arsehole who’s probably fucking the slut as we speak.”
I winced, pain ripped through me and tears sprang to my eyes. Carla covered her mouth.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. Jayne, I’m truly sorry. I’d blame the wine if it was true, I just have a big mouth and no filter sometimes.”
“It’s okay. Probably true but doesn’t mean I’m about to do the same.”
“I’m not suggesting you jump into bed with him. Just let yourself have fun. Let someone like you, want to spend time with you, show you that you’re worth the effort. Because you are.”
I took her hand in mine and gave her a smile.
“Now, Morton? Strange name though.”
We giggled. “He’s rather nice, I think.”
“Would you…”
“Would I what?”
“You know,” I stammered.
Carla laughed. “Of course not, however, a little flirting is great for the confidence. You should try it.”
I often forgot how devastated she had been by Charles’ affair. As much as my confidence was on the floor, I guessed hers was too. I raised my coffee cup.
“To flirting,” I said.
We woke late the following morning; it was the knocking on the door by the cleaner that finally had us struggle out of bed.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked.
“Let’s grab something to eat and then check out the spa. We can book some treatments. And I really want to do that sunset cruise thing. They take us to a deserted island for a glass of champagne.”
“Sounds good.”
We dressed and left the villa for what turned out to be brunch.
The spa was a haven of tranquillity. We found it on the other side of the island, an island that only took twenty minutes or so to walk around. It was accessed via a wooden jetty. We sat in reception browsing the selection of treatments and decided the following day was spa day. After booking we headed back to our villa and our sunbeds on the beach.
A large umbrella had already been erected between the two beds and cold towels were hidden under a metal container. I pulled off the sundress I’d worn over the red bikini and settled down in the shade. Carla pulled her bed out and into the sun.
The great thing about sunglasses is that the recipient of my lustful gaze was totally unaware. I was propped on my elbows watching Stefan walk down the jetty having just arrived back from his dive. He wore board shorts that hung on his hips, and even from where I sat I could see the muscles defined on his stomach. I squinted, sure I could see a tattoo just above the waistband of the shorts.
“Stop staring,” I heard, then a chuckle.
“I’m not staring, and you couldn’t possibly know what I’m looking at,” I replied.
Carla leant up.
“How about two gorgeous Danes?”
“Where?” I feigned innocence.
She chuckled some more and relaxed back down on her sunbed. I did the same.
“You quite like him, don’t you?” she said.
“He’s a nice guy, I’ve said that before, but I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I have to confess, I don’t think I’ve come across such politeness in men. Maybe it’s their culture. Whatever it is, we’re about to experience more. They’re coming this way.”
Oh no! I stretched out on the bed to flatten my stomach a little while trying to reach under to find my sarong.
“Hi, did you have a good dive?” Carla asked.
“Great, got some fantastic photographs,” Morton answered.
“Let me see,” she said.
Morton sat on the end of her bed and angled his camera so she could see. Stefan stood awkwardly. I was going to have to move and offer him a seat. I sat up, still holding in my stomach. He smiled and once I’d removed my sandy feet, perched on the end of the bed.
I casually laid the sundress across my lap.
“What did you see?” I asked.
“Sharks, manta rays; it was a great dive. Want to see?”
I nodded and he shuffled up the bed to sit alongside me. He held out his camera in front of him and I had no choice but to get closer. His tanned body was salt encrusted, but it was his hands that I’d stared at the most. Strong hands with fingers that I wanted to strum over my body. My stomach flipped as he leaned a little closer to me. Our arms touched as he showed me the screen in the back of his camera.
He flicked through his pictures, detailing each shot. His gentle voice felt like wisps of a breeze licking over my skin as he looked over my shoulder. I was sorry when he’d come to the end of his pictures and moved away.
One of the many staff that patrolled the beach asked if we’d like refreshments. Morton placed an order for two sunbeds. It seemed the guys were to join us. Beds and a small table were soon dragged into place, cold wet towels and drinks were handed over and we settled back to sunbathe. I refused to close my eyes, terrified I would let out a snore if I fell asleep.
“How about a swim?” Stefan said. We’d been silently reading or dozing for an hour or so.
I was sweating. I had been wanting a dip in the sea for ages but was too scared to move. Too scared to have Stefan see my wobbly bits as I walked to the water’s edge.
He stood along with Morton and Carla, and all looked at me. Oh fuck!
“Sure,” I said. I stood, clutching the sundress to me and hoped they’d walk off before I let it drop.
I had no such luck. I
placed the sundress on the bed with my sunglasses and braved it out. Thankfully, as we reached the sea, Stefan continued to stride in and dived under a gentle wave. He surfaced some way away and swam to the edge of the reef. Carla and I did our gentle breaststrokes until we were in deeper water.
Stefan trod water a little way out and beckoned to me. I shook my head. I wasn’t comfortable in water where I couldn’t see the bottom. He laughed before sinking under. Just as I’d turned to head back to the beach, I felt a hand snake around my waist; Stefan had surfaced behind me. He pulled me back against his chest.
“Trust me, I’ve got you,” he said as he gently dragged me back to where I’d last seen him.
Although I couldn’t reach the bottom, I could see it until he took me over the edge of the reef. I held onto his arm.
“See there?” he pointed.
I looked down; a baby shark was cruising alongside the reef.
“Oh, shit, take me back,” I said. He laughed.
“It’s not going to hurt you.”
“I don’t like when I can’t see the bottom.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he repeated.
He was strong enough to tread water and keep us both afloat. His arm was still around my waist, his hand splayed on my stomach and I relaxed a little. I could feel his chest against my back and his breath caress my neck, not that I thought that was his intention.
“Ready to swim back?” he asked. I nodded.
I wasn’t. I wanted to stay in his embrace but those feelings of guilt, of wrongdoing, flooded my mind. Reluctantly, I let go of his arm, he let go of me and we began to swim for the shore.
“We’re doing the sunset cruise later,” I said as we walked back to the sun beds. I grabbed my towel and dried my face.
A Virtual Affair Page 4
