After three months on the drug most likely to work, during which time Rosemary had experienced hypertension, severe headaches, nosebleeds and a skin rash, a bcr/abl blood test revealed the condition was not improving.
She was given another drug that had made her so sick that she couldn’t keep any food down. After a month of being violently sick after each dose of medication, even though there was nothing but bile in her stomach, she had lost two stone in weight, and there was still no improvement in the leukaemia. That was when she had told Robert that she was going to come off the medication. He remembered her words with absolute clarity. ‘I’m sorry Bobby, I’m just too much of a coward to carry on,’ she had said, which was not true as she didn’t have a cowardly bone in her body.
She had cried then for the first time since the diagnosis eighteen months earlier and he had cried with her.
Rosemary broke into his thoughts.
‘You’re very quiet,’ she said. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I was just thinking how much I love you,’ he replied, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wobble in his voice. ‘And what a kind person you are to care so much about Holly when we’ve only just met her and you have your own troubles to deal with.’
‘You know me, Bobby. I’m a sucker for a sob story, and besides I get the feeling that there is much more heartbreak in Holly’s life that she has kept bottled up inside,’ she said, arching her neck so she could look up at him with her cornflower blue eyes. ‘I want to help her.’
‘Well let’s start by asking her to dinner with us again tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Maybe she will open up a bit more when she knows us better.’
Her husband had clearly forgotten they were dining with Philippe the following evening but Rosemary hadn’t.
‘That’s an excellent idea,’ she said, a smile touching her lips.
Chapter 14
The smooth even strokes running up and down her back, and the heady aroma of frangipani in the body oil were working their magic on Holly. Good decision to book the spa treatment for this morning, she thought, particularly as it had rained overnight and was still looking grey and threatening. Not only that but every muscle Holly had used during the beach volleyball game was now hurting, even her fingers.
Maybe her aching muscles were the reason she hadn’t slept particularly well again. It wasn’t the air conditioning this time. Perhaps the heavy rain beating down on the corrugated iron roof had disturbed her, or possibly the mattress was a little too firm for her liking.
Most likely it was the guilt she was still feeling at lying to Rosemary and Robert. That feeling hadn’t lessened at all when she had bumped into them as she was leaving the restaurant after breakfast and they had invited her to dinner that night. She had been about to say no and fabricate some excuse, after all she was working and her best blogs were when she mixed with as many diverse groups of people as possible, but there was something about the woman’s expression that meant that before she knew it she agreed to meet them for dinner in Waves restaurant at eight o’clock.
I will still be working, Holly reasoned, as I’ll be finding out what’s on the menu if you’re all inclusive and a vegetarian.
Holly was regretting her decision to claim to be vegetarian on this trip, wishing she had gone for gluten-free instead so that at least she could have sampled some of the delicious-looking seafood. I’ll have to go to dinner away from the resort one night, she thought, as it would be such a shame not to try at least one of the local fish recipes.
Without warning the masseuse started kneading very firmly into her shoulders and she had to bite her lip to stop her crying out in pain.
‘Madam is very tight,’ he said, which made Holly giggle into the massage bed, despite the discomfort.
The word tight could mean so many different things in different situations. He could mean she was tight with money, which in Holly’s case was usually true as she didn’t have a lot of cash to splash around. He could have been alluding to the growing closeness between Holly and her new friends. He could even be suggesting, in urban speak, that he thought Holly was stylish and cool. That was the one that made Holly giggle as nothing was further from the truth. She made as much of an effort with her appearance as was possible on a limited budget, but she would never describe herself as stylish. Maybe she was just a little bit cool, at least that was what Harry’s school friends had thought.
She was quite different from the other mothers at his school. She was younger than the majority, she dressed in jeans and T shirts most of the time, she worked in publishing and she allowed Harry to drink beer and wine at home.
Nothing cool about that, she thought. Holly knew he would have experimented with alcohol anyway so at least by allowing him to drink at home she could keep an eye on him and not make it seem so special and grown-up.
Holly’s plan had worked. After the initial interest, when he was about fourteen, Harry could take or leave alcohol.
He’s probably the most sober second-year university student in the UK, Holly thought proudly, and yet, judging by their Facetime call the previous evening, he still managed to have a good time. At least he can remember the fun he’s had, she thought.
The masseuse was now rotating Holly’s left arm and digging his fingers into her shoulder blade. This was more like a form of torture than the gentle massage she had been expecting. He moved around the table and repeated the process on her right arm and then pulled both arms behind her forcing her shoulders up from the table.
At that moment the rain started again, rattling on the corrugated iron roof, and Holly realised what was missing from this treatment room. There was no soothing, relaxing background music and the lighting could have been a bit softer too. It was more like the rugby club physio room, where she had occasionally been allowed to spend time with Gareth after a particularly physical match, than a luxury hotel spa. It was a shame really as the entrance was beautiful walking through the Japanese style water garden to the treatment rooms. It was just the rooms themselves that spoilt the overall experience.
The massage had moved down to her legs now and the gentle pressure of thumbs against her sore calves felt good.
Ten minutes later her time was up and she was led back to the reception area to sign for her complimentary treatment.
‘Do you sell nail varnish remover?’ Holly asked. The polish had chipped off one of her nails and Holly hated the unkempt appearance it gave.
‘I’m afraid we don’t,’ said Diana, the girl behind the reception desk, ‘but you should be able to get some in the hotel shop, or if you fancy a walk into Flic en Flac it would be cheaper in the chemist’s.’
‘Thanks for the tip,’ said Holly smiling. ‘How long would it take me to walk into the town?’
‘About twenty minutes along the road, or thirty minutes along the beach,’ she replied. ‘Or you could take the bus. It stops right outside the hotel and it’s only a few rupees.’
Very honest and helpful, thought Holly as she flip-flopped her way towards the hotel shop, splashing the back of her legs with water that had yet to dry up from the recent rain shower.
The grey clouds had cleared away by the middle of the afternoon, leaving behind a few of the white, fluffy variety in an otherwise clear blue sky. Holly decided to walk along the beach in the opposite direction to Flic en Flac to check out what some of the other hotels had to offer in terms of location and style.
In the near distance she could see a small cluster of houses which she surmised must have incredible views of the entire beach. Beyond them were the mountains of the south of the island with dark grey rain clouds shrouding them like old men’s beards.
It was very warm so Holly was wearing factor 50, her baseball cap and a loose cotton kaftan to protect her shoulders. As she walked she couldn’t help but notice how sunburned some of the people were who had arrived with her two days previously. Holly couldn’t understand the logic. What was the point of sitting in the sun and turning red? It was one of
the topics of the welcome speech that Fleur had most definitely not skipped or even hurried through.
It annoyed Holly to see that some people had ignored her sound advice for themselves, but she found it upsetting to see children with red shoulders and faces still playing in the full glare of the sun.
She had noticed how particular the Italian couple had been with their little girl the day before, just as she had been with Harry when he was a baby, even though they rarely ventured beyond their back garden where it wasn’t exactly tropical. The baby had let her mum put the thick white lotion onto her arms and legs and tummy and then she had ‘helped’ her mum to rub it in. Her mum had carefully smoothed it over the little girl’s face so that it didn’t go in her eyes and had put a sunhat with a big brim on her daughter for extra protection.
They had come onto the beach near her again today, just as she was about to set off on her walk, and had volunteered to watch her stuff, which Holly had happily agreed to, not that there was anything worth taking. She was carrying her camera with her to take some pictures for her next blog and everything else of value was locked away in the safe in her room. It was nice of them to offer though and it would give her the opportunity to talk to them about the facilities for families with young children if they were still there when she got back from her walk.
Holly had passed several hotels fronting onto the beach, all quite different from the Plantation House. Most of them were set back from the beach a little so that you had the hotel gardens and swimming pools to relax and enjoy the view but a couple fronted directly onto the beach and in these places the beach appeared more crowded. There was quite a variety in style too from the ultra modern, boxy Mar et Ciel built almost entirely of glass, to the more traditional grass-roofed huts of La Badamier, named after a local tree whose big waxy leaves offered shade from the heat of the day.
Eventually the beach gave way to vegetation and Holly decided to turn back rather than tackling the damp earth and giant tree roots in her bare feet. It was a shame as the pretty houses of Tamarina Bay were almost in touching distance now.
Maybe another day, she thought as she carefully picked her way across a mound of coral washed up by the tide. She pulled out her camera to take a photograph of the thousands of weirdly shaped pieces. She zoomed in to get a close-up but with a shudder realised that it looked like a desecrated graveyard with the bones of corpses piled high. She trained her camera lens on the houses at Tamarina instead, wondering idly who might live there.
Chapter 15
At two minutes to eight Holly stood at the entrance to Waves restaurant waiting to be shown to her table. She was a couple of minutes early, one of the habits she had formed when picking Harry up from school. She couldn’t bear the thought of him standing alone and frightened at the school gate as she herself had on so many occasions as a child.
The waitress, Ornelia, who had served her lunch the previous day approached. ‘Table for one madam?’ she enquired.
‘No,’ replied Holly, ‘I’m dining with the Forresters this evening.’
‘Oh yes,’ Ornelia said, ‘they mentioned they were dining with friends tonight. Please follow me.’
Had Holly misheard? Had the waitress just said friends, plural?
Holly could see Robert and Rosemary now, standing next to a table right at the front of the restaurant, chatting to the same manager in his cream linen suit that she had seen them with on her first evening. Friends in high places, thought Holly, as she made her way across the restaurant. Very useful for getting the best table in the place.
At that moment Rosemary saw her, said something to the two men and they turned and watched as she walked the final few steps towards them.
‘Holly you look beautiful,’ Rosemary said as she pulled her into a warm embrace. ‘There are so few people who can wear yellow, but it really suits you.’
Holly had dressed for the occasion in her favourite shift dress and twisted her dark curls into the bejewelled Butler & Wilson hair clip that Harry had bought her for Christmas. It was the name which had attracted him to it, a little private joke for the two of them to share, but Holly had fallen in love with the clip the moment she opened the shocking pink box and wore it whenever she needed an extra boost of confidence. A light application of make-up completed her look.
‘Thank you,’ she said, blushing slightly. ‘So do you.’
Rosemary wore a full-length floral dress in pink, which fell away from her body beneath the bust disguising her thinness. Her golden wavy hair gathered softly on her shoulders and her smile lit up her startlingly blue eyes.
‘This is Philippe,’ said Rosemary, gesturing to the man in the linen suit.
Philippe took Holly’s hand and raised it briefly to his lips. ‘Enchanté,’ he murmured.
Holly hardly noticed what he said. This was the horseman from the beach the previous morning, the one who had reminded her of Brad Pitt and Gareth. On closer examination he wasn’t that much like Gareth at all apart from his colouring and his physique. His facial features were sharper, particularly the thin, slightly hooked Gallic nose and his piercing green eyes which were looking directly into her own olive ones.
She blushed again, aware that she hadn’t said anything.
‘Nice to meet you,’ she stammered.
Philippe released her hand, and moved behind her to pull the chair out for her sit down. Robert had done the same for his wife before taking his seat opposite her. Regaining her composure, Holly sat and then was a little surprised when Philippe took the fourth chair at the table. Dining with the paying guests was not completely unheard of but it was quite unusual and she wondered if the hotel group was aware that their managers fraternised in this way when clearly on duty.
At that moment another restaurant manager, who Holly hadn’t seen before, approached their table with the menus and asked what they would like to drink.
‘We’ll start with a bottle each of the house red and white,’ said Robert. ‘If that’s all right with everyone?’ he added.
‘Fine with me,’ confirmed Philippe.
‘May I also have a bottle of sparkling water please?’ Holly asked.
‘Certainly madam,’ said the manager, whose little metal badge gave his name as Vij. ‘I will come back and take your order presently.’
‘Are you not drinking again this evening?’ questioned Rosemary. ‘The house wine here really is very good.’
‘I know,’ smiled Holly. ‘If you remember I sampled rather too much of it on my first evening,’ she admitted, regretting her confession immediately. She didn’t want to sound like a lush but she didn’t want to appear anti-social either, so she continued, ‘I’m sure one glass won’t do any harm but I do enjoy the refreshment of sparkling water when I’m in hot countries.’
‘I agree,’ Rosemary said. ‘Nothing is quite like water for quenching a thirst.’
Holly smiled appreciatively at Rosemary, grateful for her help in getting out of the hole she had just dug for herself. She opened the menu, which thankfully was big enough for her to hide behind, so that she didn’t need to speak for a few moments. She hadn’t expected another person to be joining them for dinner and it had caught her off guard especially as this Frenchman was so good looking. She risked a glance over the top of her menu to find that Philippe was looking straight at her.
‘Were you wearing a coral dress on your first evening here?’ he asked. Rosemary and Robert both turned to look at him. ‘And your hair was loose, yes?’
Holly nodded.
‘I remember seeing you in the restaurant and wondering who the lucky person was that you were dining with, and now it’s me.’
There was an awkward pause before Robert joked, ‘I think we could safely call that the direct approach.’
‘I’m sorry if I have embarrassed you, Holly? It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice such a beautiful woman.’
Holly smiled. ‘I’m flattered rather than embarrassed,’ she said, lowering her eyes back to the m
enu.
Vij returned and placed a basket of various breads on the table, before pouring the wine and taking their food order. The other three had all ordered fish for their main course and once again Holly regretted her decision to claim to be a vegetarian.
‘So how long have you worked at the hotel, Philippe?’ she asked, savouring the fruity crispness of another good quality French wine.
Philippe looked puzzled, but Robert immediately understood the confusion.
‘It’s the suit, Philippe,’ he laughed. ‘I told you that you looked like one of the restaurant managers in it.’
Holly could feel she was blushing again. That would explain why he wasn’t wearing a little metal name badge. Why hadn’t she just asked him what he did for a living rather than assuming he worked at the hotel just because he was wearing a cream linen suit. Never assume anything, she mentally admonished herself, it makes an ass out of u and me!
Thankfully Philippe had now joined in the laughter with Robert and Rosemary.
‘Let me rephrase that,’ Holly said. ‘What do you do for a living?’
Before Philippe could speak Rosemary said proudly, ‘He’s a writer.’
Philippe quickly interrupted, placing his hand on Rosemary’s arm to remind her of her promise. ‘I used to be a journalist, but now I’m trying to write a book.’
‘Really? What is your book about?’ she asked.
Philippe had a mischievous look on his face as he answered, ‘It’s a travel guide about Mauritius. I’ve been living here for the past nine months to really get a feel for the place.’
How weird that this man should be a travel writer too, thought Holly, albeit he was writing a book and she wrote blogs.
‘Really? Well I’m going on a sightseeing trip of the island on Friday. Perhaps you would like to come too and do some more research?’ she teased, assuming that he had already traversed the island several times before embarking on his travel guide.
Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) Page 5
