How to Find Your (First) Husband

by Rosie Blake

  Linking arms, we made our way down the track moment­arily regretting not bringing a torch and having to whip out our mobile phones to guide the way. An ominous rustling from a spiky-looking bush made Mel swear and I was pretty relieved to get to the main track and the string of lights looped outside the wooden houses. As we neared the beach, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and the throb of music and talking. Making our way across the sand, I scanned the groups and saw Duncan and Andrew biting into burgers through a screen of cloudy smoke. Liz was there, too, I noted, and appeared to have found the only deckchair on the island. She was nibbling at some kind of vegetarian kebab.

  I went to get two hot dogs and Liz grimaced at me as I returned. ‘You should be careful, Isobel, as I was telling the boys’ – she said ‘the boys’ in such a way that made me want to fling both sausages at her – ‘you really can’t know about that meat.’

  ‘Thanksfortheadvhice,’ I said between mouthfuls, giving her a breaded grin and handing the other hot dog to Mel.

  ‘Oh, Iz, honey, you eat like such a lady,’ Mel said in a mock-English accent.

  ‘It’s a skill.’ I nodded, wiping a dot of ketchup from my mouth.

  ‘Well isn’t it a glorious evening,’ said Mel, stretching out her legs and pushing her toes into the sand. ‘Does anyone want to go for a walk?’ she asked, making wide eyes at me.

  I frowned. ‘Er…’

  What was Mel up to? She was waggling both eyebrows at me now so I had clearly missed something. I decided to play along.

  ‘Yes a walk sounds good,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, a not-quite-midnight stroll. Boys? Would either of you like to join?’

  ‘I wil—’

  Duncan was cut off by Mel’s hand. ‘Oh I love this song. Andrew,’ she said turning on him, ‘walk?’

  ‘Er…’ Andrew looked wistfully over at the BBQ and then back to Mel. ‘Okay, I could walk.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Mel clapped her hands like a delighted twelve-year-old. She went to stand and then bent down, clutching her ankle. ‘Oh no,’ she whispered, looking at me. ‘My ankle, Iz, it’s gone again.’

  I felt my forehead wrinkle with confusion. ‘Has it?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Do you remember earlier with my ankle…’

  Duncan leapt to her rescue, propping up her calf and asking where it hurt. Andrew asked whether he could get anything for her.

  ‘Oh no, I’ll be fine after a while, I wouldn’t want to ruin the fun. Iz, Andrew you must still walk without me, please.’

  Aaaaaaaaaah. I see.

  Andrew started to speak. ‘We’ll stay and make sure…’

  She grabbed his forearm. ‘I would hate to ruin things, do go.’

  This was all ridiculously dramatic and I realised Andrew would probably be able to see right through it. I scuffed my toe on the ground. ‘It’s fine, Mel, we should stay.’

  Duncan piped up. ‘No, you guys go, we’ll see to Mel.’

  Liz chimed in, ‘Well I wouldn’t mind a little stroll…’

  Mel turned towards her. ‘But we’ve only just met, Liz, I so want to get to know you better,’ she said in her most sincere voice, normally reserved for feigning illness at some of our worst promo jobs.

  ‘Oh well…that’s lovely,’ finished Liz, a weak smile on her thin lips.

  Mel patted her hand. ‘I want to know all about you.’

  ‘Well, shall we?’ asked Andrew, turning to me. ‘I feel like stretching my legs,’ he said.

  ‘Great,’ I said in a half-whisper, my stomach giving a small flip. Mel had engineered me some alone time, the first item on The Plan. It had been so easy. It was up to me to do the rest. Think of the plan, Iz, act cool, make sure he’s in an excellent mood and so on. And breathe. I felt my breaths coming shallow and fast and slowed them down.

  He walked off out of the glow of the BBQ and into the blue shadows of the beach, the moon casting a wide strip on the sea, making the water seem like it was lit from below.

  I almost tripped racing to catch up.

  ‘Cooool,’ Mel sung, no doubt directed at me. I turned back and Liz had followed Andrew with her eyes while Duncan was bending over, still intent on examining Mel’s ankle. And was that a familiar face on the other side of the bonfire? I squinted for a moment but a curl of smoke drifted over the BBQ obscuring shapes.

  Andrew had walked to the shoreline and was skimming stones along the surface of the water. This had always been one of the Top Three Things I’d wanted to learn to do:

  1)Skim stones so they bounce a few times

  on the surface of the water.

  2)Start a fashion trend, for example, neon tights.

  3)Peel an apple in only one go.

  I selected a stone and moved next to him, admiring his wide shoulders in the blue shirt he was wearing. I watched him throw the next one. The muscles in his back were pronounced as he drew his arm back, his shirt rolled up to the elbow, his gaze intent. He released the stone and it smacked the top of the water, skittering along four, five times before disappearing beneath the surface.

  ‘Very good,’ I said as if I were about to grade him.

  He drew himself up a little taller and I felt pleased I had said something.

  I copied the action – bent elbow, arm back, eyes steady – and released the stone. It landed with a distinct ‘plop’ which seemed to echo in the space between us, maximising my very public failure.

  I couldn’t expect to nail it on the first go. Laughing in what I hoped was a light and carefree way, I selected another stone and tried again.

  ‘Plop’.

  Andrew coughed.

  I stared out at the sea, grappling now for my next move.

  ‘Do you remember when we used to sit on the side of the pier in Southsea with my Walkman?’ I said, looking out wistfully at the waves.

  Andrew nodded quickly. ‘Yeah you had one that was yellow and black and I thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.’

  ‘We must have looked cute,’ I laughed.

  ‘I used to love the pier: the 2p machines and those ones where you grabbed the toys with the claw…’

  ‘Oh my god, remember when it broke once and we had…’

  ‘99 goes…’ We both chorused the last bit together, looking embarrassed as we did it.

  I tried to break the mood. ‘We left with armfuls of the things.’

  ‘I loved Southsea.’

  ‘Me too,’ I smiled, enjoying sharing in the warmth of our golden childhood. It really had been golden: fun days out, the freedom to explore the town, the sea on our doorstep. No wonder I always had fond memories of it.

  ‘So is that why you love Geography?’ I asked, trying to steer things back to the here and now. This could surely work as a good opener for more conversation.

  ‘Maybe. Hey, do you remember Jenny from school? You know she teaches at the school now!’

  ‘I didn’t,’ I said, voice flat as I realised we were back on the safe ground of our shared childhood.

  Did he feel it, too? Did he realise we had so little in common now? Or was I forcing things?

  Wanting to cut off further thoughts, I turned to him desperately, my hair whipping round my shoulders. ‘Have you ever been sky-diving?’ I asked.

  Oh, Isobel. Slow clap yourself, Isobel, slow clap yourself.

  Andrew, however, lit up at this suggestion and we spent the rest of the walk talking about it. Returning to the camp-fire, it seemed that Liz had left, her deckchair now occupied by Ahmad who appeared to be in the middle of some kind of magic trick. Mel tried to ask me how the walk had gone by some intricate hand gestures and I gave her a small thumbs-up.

  Andrew seemed fired up; kneeling on the sand he

  waited for the trick to end. The moment it was over, he announced, ‘Isobel has just had the best idea.’

 
Duncan looked at him and Mel surreptitiously raised her glass to me. I glowed with the compliment, feeling like a light had been switched on in my stomach.

  ‘We’re going to go sky-diving,’ Andrew said.

  As we talked more, I noticed Zeb on the other side of the fire in amongst a group of locals. He was taking photos and laughing, taller than all of them, with the boldest laugh. I smiled as the distinctive noise hit me from this distance. When I turned back to the group Mel was watching me. She raised her glass, her expression lost in the smoke and the dark. I looked back at Andrew and Duncan still talking about the sky-dive and tried to concentrate.

  Isobel,

  Thank you for your lovely emails, it all sounds very special. I am sitting over the creek imagining myself with you there now. Turtles and the turquoise sea, so delicious (and a few degrees warmer, obviously). And you have actually found who you were searching for, what a gift! I hope you have had plenty of time to discover each other again. A blessing to have a second chance at something. Don’t fool yourself though, remember you have grown up and are a wonderful woman with the whole world at your feet. Don’t get stuck in a past.

  With all my love darling,

  Moregran x x

  Chapter 35

  We met at the end of the track and I climbed up into the back of the 4x4, sucking in my breath at the warm leather of the seats. Ahmad gave me the same toothless grin from the driving mirror as Duncan joined him in the front. Mel dived to do a shoelace at the last moment and I found myself sitting next to Andrew, who was in the middle of the back seat.

  We set off, snaking our way through the back of the tiny village, past rubbish bins festering in wire baskets, hopeful flies picking at their contents, past a water tap that dripped, making a puddle in the mud beneath it. Looking out at the sky I saw plump clouds, edged with grey, cutting a course through the trees at the top. The air was muggy and smelled of dirt and the coming rain. As we moved into the shade of the trees, the world shifted through a dark-green filter. As we navigated up a steep track, one hand gripping the handle above the open window, I was grateful for the air that spilt inside. I allowed my thigh to bump up against Andrew’s. The blond hairs on his leg seemed to administer a small shock every time I struck flesh.

  ‘So you dive out of planes,’ said Ahmad, laughing manically after the sentence.

  My stomach plummeted as we dipped into a pothole and I felt my palm become sweaty on the handle.

  ‘Yes,’ I croaked, realising that this was true. What had I been thinking?

  Duncan broke the atmosphere with a loud whoop and joined in the driver’s laughter. Andrew cracked his knuckles and grinned. Only Mel seemed quieter, her green eyes large in the wing mirror, her face a little paler than normal.

  ‘No Liz?’ I asked, trying not to sound too delighted.

  ‘Nope, she’d need a doctor’s certificate from home,’ Duncan explained.

  ‘Why? What’s wrong with her?’ Guilt coursed through me. What hideous condition stopped Liz being there?

  ‘She dislocated her shoulder a few months ago,’ Andrew explained in a quiet voice.

  ‘Oh, too bad,’ I said, relieved it was nothing worse.

  ‘Yeah it really is,’ Andrew agreed.

  And seeing him looking genuinely upset made me bristle. Typical Liz getting sympathy with her wonky shoulder.

  We were ushered into a room next to the arrivals lounge of the tiny airport. The room was stifling, the heat trapped by netted curtains and small windows. A fan sat hopelessly circulating in the corner and the humidity seemed to make my nerves worse. There was no getting out of this. We were handed faded dark-blue jumpsuits and large plastic goggles, the type I’d worn in Science when doing Biology GCSE. There was one changing room in the corner and I moved across to it.

  ‘No, no,’ said the instructor, who was more beard than face. He waggled a finger at me. ‘No, no,’ he repeated, now looking at my bare legs. I crossed one foot over the other self-consciously.

  ‘Tape the shoes,’ he said, circling two of his fingers.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Your shoes, not good, you tape them,’ he said, getting on one knee next to me, a large roll of gaffer tape in his hands.

  The gold beads on my flip-flops winked in the overhead light. ‘Oh.’

  ‘What did you think you should wear?’ Andrew laughed, tightening the shoelace on his trainer.

  ‘I hadn’t thought,’ I said, having to wobble on one foot as the instructor started rolling the tape around the middle of my foot and then up my calf, cutting it off with a snip of scissors and an impatient beckoning of the other foot. When he finished, I looked absurd: beautiful flip-flops now attached to me with a large wad of tape. When I had finished putting on the jumpsuit and the massive clear goggles, I had definitely not achieved ‘Look devastat­

  ingly beautiful’.

  Waddling out with my flip-flopped feet, I took in the tin-box plane that would be taking us up into the air and dropping us out onto the beach. Gulping, I rearranged my goggles.

  ‘You know you don’t have to wear them now?’ said Duncan, his propped on the top of his head.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, pushing them up into my hair and hearing a quiet sucking noise as they detached from my skin.

  ‘Ooh, they’ve left a mark,’ he laughed, his mouth puckered.

  I tried to swagger off and play it cool, but I tripped a bit in the taped-up shoes.

  After receiving the briefest safety instructions from The Beard, I wasn’t ready. And, fine, I had spent most of it picking at the gaffer tape on my calf (bright side: at least it would be very thorough hair removal) and staring at Andrew’s ass, but I thought he might repeat the important parts. Andrew’s jumpsuit was on the small side and it had ridden up a bit. I then found myself being herded back out into the glaring sunshine, over the tarmac to the plane.

  I turned to Mel. ‘What was that bit about the cord?’ I asked her frantically.

  She rolled her eyes at me. ‘It’s fine, we’re jumping with an instructor,’ she said. My heart sank a little as I hissed at her, ‘But I thought I was meant to be strapped to Andrew?’

  Sadly my hiss was a little louder than I intended and Duncan gave me a sharp look.

  ‘Who’s being strapped to what now?’ he asked, throwing his head back.

  There was no turning back I thought as I wrenched myself into the plane and was told to scoot to the back and wait there. Sitting on the dusty floor, the scratched glass windows showing me the forest of trees and a flash of white sky overhead, I looked over at Mel who was, at least, looking pale again.

  The Beard came and sat down behind me, linking us together with what seemed like a complicated range of rucksack attachments that joined in the most intimate of places. I could feel his beard tickle me when he leaned in to shout, ‘Hold on!’

  This was not going to be the romantic experience I had planned. He smelled of curry and damp.

  Before I could work out how to sidle over and talk to Andrew with The Beard strapped to me, we were taxiing in a loop, slowly at first and then the engine revved and the whole floor vibrated with the noise and feel and I couldn’t think or see anything then except my own thoughts whirling about what we were about to do. Nothing about Andrew, the plan, The Beard, nothing except my pulsing body, sweaty palms and dry throat.

  This was it, we were up, we were off. And, suddenly, I was watching Mel sitting at the edge of the door. Her instructor (an absurdly young, good-looking guy with a dazzling smile) was strapped to her back. She gave me a wavering thumbs-up, took a breath and then was gone, her scream heard seconds later as she dropped. Oh god.

  We shuffled up to the open doorway, the island laid out below us, the ring of cloud clinging to the trees, the gorgeous green forest that stretched before us laced with white beaches and turquoise shallows. It looked surreal, like I could step out,
a giant on the top of it all. Small. And yet the minuscule orange squares were the hotels and bars. People weren’t even dots. I heard The Beard urging me forward and gulped as I heard him countdown.

  Pushing us off after ‘1’ we seemed to tumble jerkily, the air stinging my cheeks and pushing my goggles into my skin. My cheeks wobbled as we fell so quickly, spinning manically towards earth. The land came up to meet us, the sea, then sky, then trees and sand merging into a wash of colours and then there was a huge wrench at my waist and thighs and our parachute was up and we were sitting in the sky, bobbing gently down to earth, facing the right way up, able to look across the blue sea to the neighbouring islands rising like humped creatures out of the water, the coast of Malaysia in the distance.

  We descended effortlessly, aiming for a marked-out area on the big beach. The pink cones met us all too quickly and I found myself running for a few steps on the sand before tumbling into a pile of parachute and beard, laughing, breathless and exhilarated.

  The Beard removed himself and I stood up on shaky legs, allowing myself to be engulfed by hands and arms. Andrew, Duncan and Mel spilled over towards me and we threw ourselves at each other, dancing around in a tight circle cheering and whooping and high. Andrew leaned back, the sun emerging from a bank of cloud at that moment to light his face, his light-brown eyes sparkling with the excitement of what we had just done. He slapped me on the back and grinned, showing both sets of teeth. I couldn’t help but smile back. This was amazing.

  It was thoughts of the drop that filled my head for the journey back, and the rest of the afternoon as we swam and read and played bat and ball. I kept myself to myself a bit, not yet ready to return to normality, still running through the jump. The slow ascent, my thumping heart, the feel of the wind as I swept down, the patches of land below my dangling feet before I leaped. These images seemed to return to me more vividly than in the moment itself, like I had stored them up at the time to be examined. It had felt liberating and brilliant and like nothing I had ever done before and I was so glad I had come out here, had taken a chance. There was so much I wanted to see and do and I had never been more glad to have left my tiny box flat, Stewie and LA behind. I felt like I was really living, really experiencing things.