How to Find Your (First) Husband

by Rosie Blake

  ‘IZZZZZZZ!’ A shout jolted me backwards.

  ‘ISOBEL.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, snapping to attention and looking into the semi-darkness behind Zeb. I couldn’t see his face. Was he disappointed? Had he been leaning in to kiss me goodnight? Was I imagining things? Was I drunk? (Yes, but really, was I drunk and not realising he was just leaning because he was pulling a petal from my hair – those hanging baskets are basically a hazard – or was he not leaning but I was doing drunk leaning?)

  ‘Iz, where are you, that is not our hotel,’ came the call from the first-floor window of a hotel three doors back. Mel was dangling out of it in, I think, just an electric-blue bra.

  ‘Awkward,’ I laughed, looking back at Zeb.

  Zeb tucked me into a quick embrace and I felt my body relax into his – the warmth of his chest underneath his thin shirt, his arms encircling me. He squeezed me and released me so that I felt all the breath I had been holding rush out in one go.

  Turning back to the hotel, I said goodnight, wondering what I was feeling and what had just happened.

  ‘Wait, Iz.’ Zeb stopped me, his hand reaching out for mine.

  I turned back, seeing him there, a new expression on his face. My insides turn to goo.

  ‘Meet me tomorrow, I want to surprise you,’ he said in a rush. ‘Ten o’clock here, okay?’

  I nodded wordlessly; I would have agreed to anything.

  Turning back around, I walked quickly back to the hotel, pushing open the door and racing up the stairs wanting to tell Mel, wanting to run and jump on her bed and whoop.

  Pushing open the bedroom door, Mel was standing in her dress, a small bag in her hand. She looked up. ‘Hey,’ she said grinning at me, an eyebrow raised in a question.

  I couldn’t help but grin. ‘Hey.’

  ‘As much as I desperately want to find out what is going on with you, missy, Dex has got a single room so I’m sneaking out to see him there to have all the sex, so talk to me more in the morning okay, babe.’

  I let the sex and the babe thing go and let her kiss me on the cheek. ‘Definitely, I’m glad for you guys,’ I said as we hugged. ‘About the togetherness not the sex bit,’ I said into her hair as an afterthought.

  ‘Me too.’ Even in the semi-darkness I could see her eyes sparkling with it.

  She padded out of the room and I changed and cleaned my teeth, my foamy mouth smiling back at me as I brushed. Turning off the lights I got into bed, my mind still running over the evening. As I lay looking up at the murky grey of the ceiling, I squeezed the bunched-up duvet in my hand and grinned to myself.

  Chapter 39

  Waking to the buzz of a text, I lay, head resting on the pillow, one eye open, grasping with an arm for the phone I thought might be on the bedside table. Feeling my way round a Kindle, a now-empty plastic glass, coins and the lamp, I emerged with it in my hand, lifting it in front of the one open eye and reading. Frowning in confusion as I scrolled through them, I couldn’t help smiling slowly as I read the last one. Surprise! Who doesn’t love a surprise? (Exception: those with a serious heart condition.)

  An hour later and I was pulling on a cotton dress, the green straps making my freckled shoulders look even browner. Drying my hair quickly and throwing on some blusher and mascara, I felt bolder; chin up, shoulders back, I was excited about the day ahead. Grabbing a bag, I left the room, noting the satisfying slap of my flip-flops as I made my way down the stairs, scooting past a mop, the smell of disinfectant in the air.

  Emerging into the day, scorching and bright, I plunged my hand into my bag for my sunglasses, wincing as I grappled with them.

  ‘Isobel.’

  Andrew was outside the hotel door, a pamphlet in one hand, a foot up on the hotel wall behind him. He removed it and stepped towards me.

  ‘Oh!’ I started, the sight of him throwing me into a spin. His sandy hair and pale skin was in stark contrast to the man I had been expecting. I readjusted my thoughts, scrabbling for why he was here.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said in a jumble. ‘I wanted to see you today.’

  ‘Oh.’ I could feel my eyes widen as he looked at me, pink in his cheeks as he waited for a response.

  ‘Today, as in today, today.’

  ‘Er…yes.’ He played with the button on his shirt dis­tractedly, like he was tweaking a shirt nipple.

  Trying not to be distracted by it, I went to explain: ‘I sort of have plans and well, I wasn’t…’

  Andrew touched my forearm. ‘Iz, I wanted to talk, I’m going back to England in a couple of days and, well, you see, I thought maybe…look, come out on the boat and…’

  He was going back to England. I blinked at this news. Andrew Parker was leaving.

  ‘Home,’ I interrupted.

  ‘Well, yes, I have to get back, start lesson planning for the new term, you know, but I wanted to see if, well why don’t we…’ He stumbled over his words, waving the pamphlet round as he did so. It was on conservation. There was a turtle caught in a net, one sad eye looking through the space between. It seemed to be saying, ‘Help me.’ I kept staring at it as Andrew kept talking about the new term, leaving, going to the beach. I had come all this way, I had found him. All those moments in LA when I had wondered how my life had spun out of control, all those memories of us as children and he would leave me and it would be over. I would be back to the start with nothing to show for it.

  Andrew finished and was clearly waiting for me to respond. He was leaving. I had to see him if he was leaving. I would have to tell Zeb. I thought of Zeb’s roll of laughter last night, me clutching my stomach as hiccoughy tears filled my eyes. I wanted to see him, wanted to see his surprise.

  ‘Andrew, look, I’m sorry,’ I said quickly. ‘I sort of promised someone.’

  Andrew deflated in front of me, one hand combing through his hair.

  ‘I could catch up with you later and maybe…’

  ‘But we want you there. I want you there,’ he said, his voice getting higher. Oh god, how long had I waited for this moment? He wanted me there. He was asking me. What was I doing? I felt my body tear into two and as I was wringing my hands like a clichéd heroine in a movie, Zeb appeared behind Andrew, in khaki shorts and a loose cotton shirt, a huge smile on his face, his camera slung over his shoulder. He lifted his sunglasses up as he moved towards me and opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, his face guarded as he took in

  Andrew.

  ‘Isobel.’

  ‘Hi,’ I said, feeling so much emotion in those two letters.

  ‘Hey.’ He nodded to Andrew.

  Andrew ignored him, focusing his eyes on me.

  I stared at the pamphlet. Christ. I was that turtle.

  ‘Andrew was just telling me he was leaving soon,’ I said, feeling hopeless, my stomach swirling.

  ‘I wanted to see her today,’ Andrew said, not looking at Zeb, eyes still trained on me.

  I smiled weakly, my cheeks straining with the effort.

  Zeb didn’t say anything and I filled the gap. ‘I said I couldn’t because of…’ I indicated him.

  Andrew turned to him. ‘If it could wait, mate.’

  ‘Iz,’ Zeb said, looking at me, ‘it’s fine, you do what you need to do.’

  I wrung my hands again. What I needed to do? Was that the same as what I wanted to do? If I was being honest, what I wanted right now was to be that girl over there with a shopping bag. Her up-coming decisions looked easier: skimmed or semi-skimmed, with bits or smooth. Could I be her, please?

  Zeb was there, waiting, and Andrew was staring at me again.

  ‘Make a decision, Iz,’ Zeb said quietly.

  My brain was screaming a hundred different things, my palms felt sweaty. ‘Well if he’s leaving, I…but…’ Images from last night piled through my self-conscious again like a hazy
, warm memory.

  Zeb nodded once. ‘I get it,’ he said, hitching the camera bag up on his shoulder. ‘You two have a great day.’ He smiled, raking a hand through his hair. He nodded at me, mouth half-attempting a smile.

  I watched him walk back the way he came, his trainers leaving sandy marks in the track, his hair curling at the back. I took a step in his direction, wanting to run alongside him, to join him.

  Andrew was grinning widely. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘Now you’re free, where do you want to go?’

  Dear diary,

  I still miss Andrew all the time. I went to the pier on my own today and looked at the claw machine with the soft toys underneath and I remembered the best day when the machine had got stuck and Andrew and I had played and played and he won the rabbit holding a heart on my bed that said ‘Best Friends’ for me.

  Sometimes I want to run away and search for him, but I know Mum and Dad would be sad if I left as when we watched ‘Annie’ together, Mum kept hugging me when Annie ran away and kissed me on the head lots. Maybe he will come back and I won’t need to run away and find him. If I concentrate really hard I think I can send him messages to get him to come back. It used to work when we thought of a number out of ten. He used to guess right all the time.

  I’ll keep thinking of him over and over and maybe if I keep doing that – POOF! – he will appear.

  I x

  Chapter 40

  We walked into the jungle and I tried to re-trace our steps and find the waterfall again. I didn’t know why I had thought of that place immediately but as we moved through the humid forest, swatting insects that hummed in front of our faces, I wondered if it had been such a good idea. Andrew seemed to be approaching the day with all the energy of a Geography teacher running a field trip and we had to stop four times to talk about the different variety of plants.

  I didn’t really know what was wrong with me; I should be approaching the trip in a more positive way. I had got what I wanted, after all, and knew I was being churlish, pouting every time Andrew wanted to show me another deciduous tree.

  Andrew was here, the man I had travelled across the globe to find, was offering to spend the day with me and I knew I should be lighter. I recognised this mood, used to be like this when Stewie talked to me about flight paths and air traffic control. I hated myself when I did that. I gave myself an internal pep talk, a lot of quiet back-slapping, and to show it had worked went overkill when he pointed out a plant that could turn into actual soap. ‘WOAHHHHHH.’ He took a step backwards as I rubbed it over my palms and stared at him with wide eyes. ‘IT’S LIKE ACTUAL MAGIC.’

  After a few false starts, ending in walls of bracken and some vicious-looking spiky bushes, we found the little copse, the ground speckled with shadows, the waterfall tumbling over the rocks and into the pool below. It was as glorious as I remembered and, as I crunched over the dried mud and weeds, my damp skin craved the chill of the pool, only the odd leaf disrupting its surface.

  ‘Waterfalls are formed when a river is young so this one would have been made hundreds, maybe thousands, of years ago.’

  ‘Gosh!’

  I went to remove my top and shorts, feeling strangely embarrassed all of a sudden, as if on automatic. Andrew gave me a tight smile as he did the same and an awkward silence descended. Like we were nineteenth-century newly weds on the first night, slowly undressing for each other, snatching glances as we stepped out of our clothes. We kicked off our shoes, hollow laughs.

  Stepping onto a flat rock, slippery, the algae clinging to its edges, I gingerly moved across to plunge in. Andrew was behind me, swearing as he stubbed a toe on something.

  ‘You alright?’ I asked over my shoulder, wondering whether this had been such a good idea.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okey doke, Batman, ha, ha.’ Really, Iz – Batman?

  I stepped into the water, gasping as the cold surged through my body, legs practically numb and skin covered in goosebumps. Wading out to the waterfall, glad to be moving, my legs pumping in a breaststroke, warming my body, I thought back to the last time I had been here. It seemed so long ago really, stumbling into Zeb naked as a naked thing, bristling as he’d teased me. Turning to say something to Andrew, to drag myself back to the present, I frowned as I saw him on the flat rocks beyond, one toe poised over the water, his arms crossed over this chest.

  ‘All okay?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Honestly,’ I said, swimming back towards him. ‘It’s pretty cold but amazing once you get in.’

  It was amazing. I had never felt so clean. I felt my whole body was being cleansed from the inside out with fresh, pure water.

  ‘I was wondering,’ Andrew said, foot back out on the side, ‘about lizards, whether they come here.’ He peered into the dark-green water as if searching for them and I felt my heart drum a little faster. I thought back to the enormous monitor lizard I had seen – he had been a sizable animal – and wondered.

  ‘I don’t like them.’

  ‘Well, I think they’d be more scared of us than we are of them,’ I said with a confidence I didn’t quite feel. Lifting my leg sharply as I imagined something brushing against it, my feeling of calm relaxation seemed fragile. Andrew had managed to find a rock to stand on and his ankles were now submerged.

  ‘Maybe I’ll just paddle,’ he said, smiling at me and lowering one foot, eyes wide, before snatching it back. ‘Or sit on the side.’ He scooted over and sat on a rock, leaving wet feet marks, then he looked at me treading water in the pool, his chin in his hands.

  Feeling like a nana after about thirty seconds, I swam to the edge and lifted myself out, plucking the bikini bottoms back into line and hoping he wasn’t able to make out any cellulite in the dappled light. Wrapping myself in my towel and putting my flip-flops back on, I shook out my hair and smiled at him.

  ‘Well that was lovely,’ I said in my most-hearty voice. ‘Ready to go back?’ I asked, hoping that perhaps Dex and Mel might be around and we could spend some time with them. Not that it wasn’t nice seeing Andrew alone like this but maybe they would make things easier. Then things would flow more easily and I wouldn’t have this slightly knotted feeling in my stomach.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, standing up and walking across to me.

  Pulling on my clothes, I could feel his presence inches away from me as I knotted the tie on my skirt and readjusted my bra strap.

  ‘Right,’ I said in my hearty best English voice. ‘Let’s go what-ho. Ha, ha!’ What was wrong with me?

  We left the copse and made our way back to the narrow track, snaking down past trees and bushes, the odd rustle above us and the constant chatter of insects all around us. As the path narrowed out, we walked together, the sun beating a path through the canopy of trees, the air still close and muggy. I took a sip of water and focused on what Andrew was saying. Something about fresh water supplies; apparently they were falling at an alarming rate.

  ‘We should be worried,’ he said solemnly to me and I nodded my agreement.

  ‘Hmm,’ I added to show Real Concern.

  My arms swung loosely at my sides as the path flattened out and we could see the hint of blue sea beyond, a couple of colourful rooftops. We were back at Juara beach and I felt a lifting in my chest. Oh god, I had to say something, I realised with a sinking heart, this was just hopeless. I could feel the same irritation sweeping over me when I couldn’t force the feelings. This would be like Stewie all over again and it wouldn’t be his fault; we just weren’t compatible. I looked at Andrew’s profile, his straight nose, the wave in his hair – and started to speak. ‘Andrew, do you think maybe, well we are different people now aren’t we, from our childhoods I mean…’ I was babbling, I knew I was babbling, but this was just awkward. How would I phrase the next part? Could I just say something about how he must have realised it too, that we didn’t have an enormous amount in common an
d…

  Something brushed my hand. Andrew’s hand. I jerked a fraction and then left my arm frozen there, wondering if it had been a mistake or not. He brushed it again and then suddenly we were holding hands, interlocking fingers, not quite matching so that a couple were just poking out. I didn’t want to readjust it though, was holding my breath at the same time. Holding hands was progress, major progress. This was intent. Andrew definitely liked me. Our hands were slippery with water and sweat from the walk, but they were glued together now, the grip firm. Wow, this is strange, not what I had expected. Had I read this situation completely wrong?

  My head felt full. The memories from our childhood, those safe feelings conjured up by talking about the past, our life in England, all swept into my consciousness. I felt a slow smile spread across my face, my cheeks lifting and I looked up at him through my lashes feeling like that child again, uncertain and tentative. I couldn’t really believe this was really happening. I had come all this way and now I was making my dream a reality. My fantasy man in the cottage with roses, the relaxing English idyll that could be mine. I mean, we didn’t have a lot in common but we could find things. And, anyway, those kind of details would work themselves out. Wouldn’t they?

  We got to the dirt track that headed back to the hotel and wavered.

  ‘Beach?’ he suggested.

  ‘Good idea.’

  He turned to me and I paused before looking up at him. So close I could make out the individual hairs of blond stubble, see a crack in his bottom lip, his lashes lighter towards the ends. Leaning down, he kissed me gently on the mouth. My body froze and initially I stiffened, felt an awkward clash on my gums and then tried to relax into it. He pulled away pretty quickly, a hand on his neck, a blush starting at his cheeks.