She had no idea how long Rosemary would sleep so, rather than wasting the opportunity to explore, she climbed down the wooden steps from the verandah of the house and clambered over the dark volcanic rocks onto to the stretch of beach at Tamarina Bay. From there she could see the spot where she had walked to a couple of days earlier, before her path had been blocked by the undergrowth. Beyond the view up the coast was uninterrupted and spectacular, with soft white sands and clear blue water, just like it showed in the holiday brochures. There’s certainly something magical about Mauritius, she thought, or maybe it’s the people I’ve met that makes it feel that way.
She turned away from the sea to look up at the house just as Rosemary walked out onto the verandah. Holly waved, trying to catch her attention but Rosemary was looking out to sea in the direction of the fishing boats. Holly was about to head back to the house but Rosemary had already begun her descent of the wooden steps so she crossed the short expanse of sand and sat on a rock to wait for her friend. It seemed impossible that she had revealed so much about her life to a person she had met only a few days ago. Rosemary now knew more about her than any other living person, even her son, Holly realised. There had been no judgement of any of her actions just a calm and compassionate understanding. When Rosemary had assured her that her father’s death wasn’t her fault she had felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders.
‘I didn’t recognise you in your baseball cap,’ called Rosemary as she carefully picked her way across the black rocks, ‘but I thought it must be you down here as I couldn’t think where else you would have gone.’
‘I hope you didn’t mind me leaving you,’ Holly said as Rosemary approached. ‘You seemed so soundly asleep I thought I would come down to the beach for a wander.’
‘Not at all,’ Rosemary said. ‘You weren’t to know it would only be a cat nap. You probably needed a breath of fresh air after the morning we’ve had.’
‘I don’t know what came over me,’ Holly admitted, extending her hand to help Rosemary down from the rocks onto the warm soft sand. ‘I normally keep myself to myself.’
‘Have you heard the expression, a problem shared is a problem halved?’ asked Rosemary.
‘I have,’ said Holly, ‘but until today there was no one in my life that I felt I could trust enough to share my problems with. I’m sorry,’ she added, looking up at the older woman whose very presence made her feel calm.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ Rosemary said. ‘I’m honoured to be the person you felt you could open up to. If I had a daughter at the age you were when you gave birth to Harry she would be your age now. I would want her to come to me with her problems not keep them hidden away. I’m not judging your mum, Holly, she obviously has issues of her own and to lose her husband so soon after choosing to disown you she must have been in a very dark place when she said those awful things to you at your dad’s funeral.’ Rosemary paused and linked her arm through Holly’s as they started to walk back towards the shoreline. ‘But I can’t understand or condone what she did either. Nobody goes through life without making mistakes and unless you learn from them and share what you have learned with others you care about, the same mistakes will be repeated again and again.’
They had reached the water’s edge and both women slipped their feet out of their sandals and continued into the shallow warm sea until it covered their feet.
‘This is one of my favourite things to do,’ said Holly, wiggling her toes in the sand, causing underwater clouds.
‘And mine,’ said Rosemary. ‘This and watching the sun set into the water.’
‘Me too.’
A tear escaped from the corner of Holly’s eye which she quickly brushed away. She had learned a long time ago not to ask the question, ‘Why me?’ when bad things happened and had replaced it with the more positive, ‘Why not me?’ Something wonderful was happening to Holly on this paradise island and for once she was able to ask the question, ‘Why not me?’ about something good.
The two women walked along the beach chatting about everything from their favourite colour to their taste in music. They discovered that neither of them was a fan of jazz but they both loved power ballads and some classical music could reduce them to tears. Neither was particularly interested in sport although both had loved cheering Team GB on in the previous year’s Olympic Games held in London. Holly admitted that she had never seen a West End musical because she had never had the money or a companion to go with. Rosemary said they would have to put that right when she and Robert returned to the UK after their extended stay in Mauritius. Holly had then asked how long they were planning to stay but Rosemary’s answer had been non-committal.
‘You are lucky,’ Holly said. ‘I would love to be able to stay somewhere like this forever. I love the fresh smell and the warmth of the sun on my skin. I guess I’m a bit of a beach bum at heart,’ she confessed, ‘which is why I couldn’t believe my luck when I got this job working for Soleil Resorts.’
‘How did you get the job?’ Rosemary enquired, intrigued to know how a charity worker from Reading had become a blog writer for one of the top hotel groups in the world.
‘It was all a massive stroke of luck actually,’ Holly admitted. She explained how Harry had been saving his paper round money for years and also the tips from his bar job during his first year in university, to take himself and his mum on their first proper holiday. She was so thrilled by the experience that at the end of every day she had written a lengthy entry in her diary. On the plane on the way home she had read it out to Harry as a reminiscence of the wonderful holiday they had just had together. When they got home Harry, without telling his mum, had found a blog-hosting website and had posted all her diary entries over the period of a week. The response to her ‘warts and all’ account had been incredible, with over 50,000 views, and dozens of comments left suggesting that she should do it again from a different destination. Harry had suggested approaching Soleil Resorts and they loved the idea, seeing it as a fairly inexpensive way of gaining publicity and also a way to keep an eye on the quality of service without a resort knowing they were being checked up on.
‘It sounds like your Harry is a very bright boy, recognising a gap in the market. What does he do for a living?’ she asked.
‘He’s in his second year at university,’ Holly said, and then added before Rosemary asked the inevitable question, ‘he’s studying to be an architect.’
Rosemary stopped in her tracks. ‘So that was what you almost let slip at dinner the other night when I told you that Robert was an architect.’
‘Yes,’ said Holly, ‘I nearly blew my cover story on the first evening with you and Robert because I am such a proud mother. You can’t say anything to Robert though,’ she added, panicking slightly.
‘I won’t say a word,’ Rosemary reassured her. ‘So does your blog have a title?’
‘It’s called Life’s a Beach. It’s a sort of play on words. You know the saying “life’s a bitch and then you die”?,’ Holly explained.
‘Yes I know the saying,’ Rosemary said. ‘You know all this walking has made me peckish,’ she said, quickening her pace as she headed towards the house. ‘Was their any fruit and cheese left from lunch?’
That’s an odd reaction to my blog title, thought Holly as she followed her across the sand. She could have just said she didn’t like it.
All that was left of the watermelon was a pile of black seeds on Holly’s plate. She didn’t normally bother with watermelon as it was usually quite tasteless, but this had been a delight for her taste buds. Along with the locally grown pineapple it had made a very tasty afternoon snack and was much healthier than the cup of milky coffee with a couple of chocolate digestives Holly would have had at this time of day back home. The two women were sitting on the sofa on the verandah in the shade, even though the ferocity of the midday sun had long since passed.
Rosemary had been quiet since they had returned to the house despite Holly’s best efforts at conversation. Hol
ly was trying to think if she had inadvertently said anything to upset the older woman. She didn’t think so but Rosemary had been acting strangely ever since she had mentioned the title of her blog.
‘Do you think I should call it something else?’ Holly ventured.
Rosemary looked bewildered.
‘The blog,’ Holly clarified. ‘Do you not think it’s a good title?’
‘I like the title,’ Rosemary said. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well you seem to have gone all quiet on me since I mentioned it,’ Holly said, looking puzzled. ‘It’s not because I told you Harry’s studying architecture, is it? You don’t think I’ve made friends with you so that I can make use of Robert’s contacts do you?’ she asked, feeling mortified.
‘Hardly, Holly, particularly as I am under strict instructions not to mention any of your story to my husband!’ Rosemary replied, managing a weak smile.
‘So what’s wrong then?’ Holly persisted. ‘It must be something I’ve said.’
Rosemary sighed. ‘In a way it is, although there’s no way you could have known how close to home your “life’s a bitch and then you die” comment was.’
‘There is no easy way to tell you this Holly and now it’s my turn to swear you to secrecy. No one knows what I’m about to tell you, not my closest friends back home, not Philippe, no one, and I need it to stay that way. Can you keep a secret?’
Holly had a dreadful sense of foreboding and her mouth went suddenly dry, preventing her from speaking so she simply nodded her head.
‘I’m sick, Holly,’ Rosemary said gently. ‘Very sick.’
Holly could hear her own voice coming from a long way away as she started to say, ‘W-what’s wrong...’ but before she could finish her sentence Rosemary had raised her hands to stop her speaking.
‘In fact, it would be more accurate to say I’m dying.’
‘Nooooooo!’ Holly let out an anguished cry, like a wounded animal. Her head was spinning and her heart was thundering. For a moment she thought she might faint. She felt Rosemary put her arm around her to comfort her but selfishly she pushed her away. ‘No,’ she said again. ‘You can’t leave me, it’s not fair.’
Even to her own ears she could hear the childishness of the statement but she couldn’t stop now. ‘Maybe it’s a mistake,’ she rambled, ‘have you had a second opinion? You can’t leave me, I’ve only just found you... I need you,’ she blurted out, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
Rosemary reached out again and this time Holly didn’t push her away she clung to her like a frightened child who was having a nightmare.
As Holly’s breathing began to even out she asked in a very small voice, ‘Are you absolutely sure nothing can be done?’
Rosemary was very calm as she explained to Holly about her leukaemia, resigned to the inevitable consequence that her lack of response to the various treatment drugs had brought about.
‘How can you be so calm about it?’ Holly asked. ‘Aren’t you angry or frightened?’
Rosemary was quiet for a moment looking out to the distant horizon before she answered. ‘Maybe I was at first, but I soon realised that there is no point being angry, Holly, it doesn’t solve anything, as I’m sure your mum has found out. I suppose I am still a little frightened but mostly I’m overwhelmingly sad that, after taking so long to find my soul mate, I’m going to leave him alone.’
Holly had seen how close they were and wondered how on earth Robert would cope with losing this incredibly courageous woman.
After a few moments Rosemary took Holly’s face in her hands and looked straight into her olive green eyes. ‘If I’ve learned anything from this life it’s that if you have a chance of happiness you need to take it. It may not always turn out the way you hope it will but if you don’t seize your opportunities all you will be left with is regret for what might have been.’
Holly chose to ignore the obvious reference to her blossoming romance with Philippe. ‘How long do you have?’ she asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.
‘No one knows for sure how quickly my condition will deteriorate but we are talking months rather than years.’
Holly felt totally crushed.
‘No wonder you couldn’t answer when I asked how long you would be staying in Mauritius? Is that why you’ve come, to spend the rest of your life here?’
‘No, I have something else in mind and I may need you to help me. Would you do that, Holly? Would you help a dying woman with her last wish?’
Holly was still reeling from the shock of hearing that Rosemary was dying. ‘Of course. I’ll do anything I can.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You have no idea how much that means to me. I wanted to visit Mauritius one last time before I get too sick to fly, but I don’t want to die here because I want Robert to be able to come to this house, where we had planned to retire together, and remember all the happy times we shared, watching beautiful sunsets like this.’
Holly raised her eyes to follow Rosemary’s gaze. The sun was a fiery orange ball and was just starting to dip below the horizon, the sky around it a colourful backdrop of pinks and yellows. They sat quietly, Rosemary’s hand resting on Holly’s, until the final flash of orange had gone, both wondering how many more sunsets Rosemary would enjoy.
‘They’ll be back soon,’ Rosemary said. ‘We’d better start getting things ready for supper.’
Chapter 27
Robert and Philippe were in good spirits when they arrived home shortly after sunset with steaks from the huge yellow fin tuna that Billy had helped them land and gut. Holly was relieved that the fish was ready to grill on the barbecue. She hadn’t gutted a fish since making roll-mop herrings as an eleven-year-old in her school cookery class when she had almost fainted after cutting down the fish’s belly before twisting its head off. She had gone home and announced to her mum that she wanted to be a vegetarian to which her mum had replied, you’ll eat what you’re given.
With the tuna steaks sizzling on the hot coals of the barbecue Philippe and Robert gave a blow by blow account of how they had not only landed the yellow fin tuna but also a prized ruby snapper. Billy had grudgingly said it was beginner’s luck but was nonetheless grateful when the boys had given it to him, along with the rest of their catch, as a thank you for their day out on the ocean.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t fall overboard, Robert,’ Rosemary teased, as it was clear that he was more than a little tipsy. ‘I thought I asked you to look after him, Philippe.’
‘I did,’ countered Philippe, winking in Robert’s direction. ‘He was never without a bottle of beer in his hand!’
The tuna steaks were delicious accompanied by the salad that Holly and Rosemary had prepared. Philippe offered wine but Robert declined, admitting that he had probably had enough alcohol for one day, and Rosemary also gave it a miss as she had volunteered to drive back to the Plantation House in Philippe’s old BMW.
‘You’ll join me in a glass of white, won’t you, Holly,’ Philippe urged. ‘I don’t like to drink alone.’
Holly hesitated before replying, ‘Just one glass then.’
As soon as they had finished their meal Rosemary said, ‘I think I should get you back to the hotel, Robert, before you fall asleep.’
‘You might be right, old girl,’ Robert said.
‘It’s early, Holly,’ Rosemary said, ignoring the old girl comment. ‘If you don’t want to leave just yet you could always phone the hotel for a taxi when you’re ready.’
Holly could feel three pairs of eyes on her, and felt a blush begin to colour her face. Part of her wanted to make her excuses and leave with the Forresters. That would be the sensible, safe option. But running around in her head was Rosemary’s advice about not living to regret missed opportunities and besides she really didn’t want the evening to end yet.
Chapter 28
It was only a ten-minute drive to the hotel from Tama
rina Bay but Robert could feel his eyelids drooping. He was feeling a bit irresponsible for letting Philippe ply him with drink all day. What if Rosemary was taken ill in the night and he was in no state to help her? he thought guiltily.
‘She’s a grown woman, Robert, and quite capable of making her own decisions,’ said Rosemary, who had mistaken Robert’s silence as disapproval of her meddling in matters of the heart. ‘I was merely pointing out that the hotel could send a taxi if she wanted to stay a bit longer.’
‘Never crossed my mind, old girl,’ said Robert, slurring his words.
Rosemary stole an affectionate glance at her inebriated husband. It was so unlike him to drink too much but he wasn’t used to beer and clearly couldn’t handle it as well as he could wine.
‘Once was enough, Robert,’ she admonished.
‘What’s that?’
‘Old girl,’ she said. ‘I let it go at Philippe’s but let’s nip it in the bud now. It makes you sound like the Major from Fawlty Towers.’
‘He really likes Holly, you know,’ said Robert, referring back to Rosemary’s original remark. ‘He told me so on the boat. Did she talk about him at all?’
‘His name might have been mentioned,’ Rosemary teased and then added mysteriously, ‘but I have been sworn to secrecy on our conversations today so don’t bother asking.’ It was a clever way to avoid further discussion of her day with Holly.
‘Spoilsport,’ said Robert. ‘We always tell each other everything.’
‘Usually, Robert,’ she corrected. ‘We usually tell each other everything, but in this case it’s off limits.’
Robert looked at the defiant angle of his wife’s chin and knew that whatever the girls had been talking about all day it wasn’t going to be shared with him. If he hadn’t felt quite so tipsy he might have persevered in trying to break down his wife’s resolve but it wasn’t worth causing an argument over a load of girlie chat.
Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) Page 10
