by Carrie Stone
It’s six by the time I finally make it out of work, thanks to an impromptu cover lesson and I barely have time to get home, showered and make myself passable before Spencer calls me to say he’s outside. I don’t know why I’m surprised to see him standing next to a scooter and not a car because I know he has one. As he passes me a helmet and I slip it on, trying not to ruin the updo I just spent ten minutes perfecting, I realise it’ll be much more fun to be riding in the open, warm evening air with my arms wrapped around his waist.
And what a ride it is. I’ve listened to Tilly comment about the dangers of scootering in Bermuda for those that aren’t adept but Spencer certainly knows his stuff. I hold onto him tightly as we go over bumps and around curves, his muscular body feeling solid and strong as I encase myself around it.
‘You OK back there?’
‘Great!’ I shout, laughing as we pass people we know and he toots whilst I attempt to wave.
In less than ten minutes we pull off one of the busier roads into what feels like a quieter, residential area with big, generously spaced houses. Before I know it, we turn left into a driveway and the bike comes to a stop. It’s not quite what I have been expecting. I glance up at the little peach cottage surrounded by garden. There’s a porch and veranda housing a hanging basket with flowers. Pretty yellow, pink and red hibiscus plants are dotted around the property and a dog suddenly appears from nowhere, pounding over to us.
‘This is a gorgeous place.’ I take off my helmet, looking around at the cute postcard picture cottage and then eye the terrier dog making a beeline for me. ‘I didn’t know you had a dog! How cute. What’s its name?’
‘That’s Brody, he’s quite old so take no notice if he bumps into you.’ Spencer laughs as the dog does exactly that, failing to stop as he bounds towards my legs and crashes into me, pushing me backward.
‘Woah.’ I stumble, grinning and reach down to pet him. ‘Hello darling.’ Brody immediately seems to calm with each stroke. ‘You’re a good boy.’
Spencer leads us up a small paved path to the white front door and as I follow him and step into the open lounge-diner, a blast of chilled air-conditioning hits me.
‘It’s lovely and cool in here.’ I glance around and once again am rather taken aback. As far as I can see, the inside of the property defies the outside. There’s a very modern and manly décor, a big contrast to the facade. It’s very obviously the home of a bachelor and I note the large TV, speakers and aptly placed pool table.
‘Well, this is my pad. It’s a bit chintzy from the outside but that was Leah’s choice when we first came to Bermuda.’ He shakes off his light sweater. ‘It’s a bargain for what I pay, so I decided to stay put. Plus it works for Brody to have the garden.’
I know from when he touched upon his past on our date, that Leah is the ex who he originally came to Bermuda with. I can’t help but admire her good taste. Despite Tilly’s stunning marina location, I’d trade that in an instant for a little piece of this heaven.
‘Yes, makes sense. It’s beautiful here.’
I follow him into the kitchen and whilst it’s not as modern as Tilly’s, it’s stamped with a male print. There are takeout pamphlets stuck to the fridge, a makeshift countertop being used as a bar, judging by the thirty odd bottles of various wines and alcohol, and two high black leather swivel stools.
‘So what’s on the menu?’ I prop myself up on one of the stools, putting my bag down beside me. His back is to me and I take in the tautness of the red T-shirt he’s wearing as he reaches into the fridge, stretching it across his buff frame. He’s barefoot beneath his jeans and his feet are tanned and slim.
‘Huh?’ He suddenly turns to face me and his gaze immediately falls to my lips. Before he can stop himself, his mouth is on mine and we’re kissing and boy, does it feel good.
I break off and gently push him back, licking my lip as I do so. He tastes of vanilla and mint. ‘Naughty, I’ve not even had dinner yet.’
‘Haha, sorry. Couldn’t help myself. You’re probably a lot more delicious than what I’ll be serving up anyway.’ He reaches into a cupboard and tosses me a bag of dried pasta, which I catch with one hand. ‘Impressive.’ He grins as I roll my eyes. ‘Dinner is Penne Arrabiatta, my signature dish.’
‘And dessert?’ I ask, thankful that dinner isn’t something that he can mess up too badly.
‘I didn’t get that far. It’s mainly just dinner.’ Laughing, he points to a pre-prepared bag of arugula. ‘But there is a starter. Salad of arugula with avocado and mango.’
‘Sounds good.’ I try to hide my surprise at the delicious sounding concoction and watch as he takes a knife from the drawer. However, his attempt at dicing the onion has me wincing and it’s not long before I step in to help him.
Not even thirty minutes later, we’re sitting down to our food, which as it turns out is quite delicious.
‘Cheers to you for helping me prepare.’ He raises his glass of white wine and I notice the way his ruffled honey hair sticks up randomly in places. ‘Now, tell me about work today.’
And so I do. It seems that we talk and laugh about everything until my face aches, my back hurts from the dining chair and I start to yawn. I apologise and cover my mouth, turning to peek at the clock behind me. ‘Wow, how did it get so late, so quickly. It’s already nine-thirty.’
‘Time for a night cap and maybe a movie, if you’re not in a rush to head off?’ His blue eyes dance as he waits for me to answer and I feel a rush of light-headedness. I can’t decide if it’s nerves or excitement, or possibly a mixture of both. He appears to be holding his breath.
‘Sure, I can do a movie, as long as it’s one I choose.’ I laugh, and he stands up, collecting the plates as he does so, but not before I notice the small smile at the corner of his lips.
‘You go and choose something. The remote is just over there. I’ll put these in the kitchen.’ He nods at the sofa, and I’m thankful that although it’s black and leather, it’s oversized and very inviting.
He’s back within minutes and I’m still scrolling through options on Netflix when he sits next to me, placing two small tumbler glasses of drink down on the coffee table in front of us. ‘A post dinner brandy.’
‘Gosh, I don’t think I can stomach a brandy,’ I say, settling on a movie that seems light-hearted. ‘What about this one?’
‘Whichever you like.’ He takes a sip of his drink and reaches across to the lamp, switching it off as I click the play button. ‘Now, come here and cuddle me.’ I feel my stomach flip as his arms encompass me, pulling me back into his chest and I languish there in this embrace, tucking my feet up next to me. ‘Comfy?’
‘Very.’ My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst inside me, but I know I’m not the only one as, despite the loud intro of music blasting from the television, my head against his chest tells me all I need to know.
We manage twenty minutes of the film with him stroking my arms, my hair, my face … until I’ve sipped enough brandy to calm my nerves and a happy, peace surrounds me.
When he pulls my body even closer to his and scoots himself down so we’re lying parallel, I know that things are about to change. I feel so comfortable beside him and as I turn to face him and we kiss passionately, the words that I know I’ve been waiting to hear come tumbling from him.
‘Do you want to stay the night? We can go to the bedroom?’
And in that moment, there’s absolutely nothing I want more than to be with him, in his bed.
‘Yes. Let’s go.’
*
‘Better or worse though?’ Tilly pushes, grinning like a Cheshire cat as I avoid her intense gaze.
‘Better, OK? In fact, quite possibly the best yet. Now can we change the subject.’ I finish applying mascara and dab at my lipstick. ‘What’s the time?’
‘God you’re so touchy, lighten up. But it’s nuts to think that man-child Spence is a stud in bed. Who’d have thought.’ She catches my warning stare and sighs. ‘OK,
I’m shutting up now. Anyway it’s nearly eight o’clock.’ She finishes her coffee and walks across to the kitchen sink. ‘I’ve got an early meeting so I need to dash.’
‘Me too, I’ve got to run.’
Tilly skids towards the front door, bag in hand and opens it. ‘Do you fancy a drink after work?’
‘Sorry I can’t, I’m taking the kids on that field trip today, I don’t think I’ll be home until late.’
‘Oh shit, totally forgot about that.’ She waves at me. ‘OK, see you tonight then … if you’re not too busy getting down with Spence.’
She laughs and bangs the door behind her before I have a chance to yell. I smile to the mirror and shake my head. I’m still reeling from the night’s events, from the incredible sex – which, let’s face it, rarely happens on the first time – to the morning kisses, coffee and croissant lavished on me by Spencer.
Trying to snap myself out of my euphoric post-coital bubble, I quickly gather up my belongings and make my way out of the apartment. Today’s school trip is to the Bermuda Zoo and Aquarium and if I’m honest with myself, I’m probably looking forward to it almost as much as the kids.
It’s rather tiring herding fifteen excitable fourteen-year-olds onto the bus for the short fifteen-minute journey. We arrive outside and are immediately greeted with the open fronted green turtle tank. Two large males cruise effortlessly through the water towards us, seemingly interested in the commotion from the children. It fires up my enthusiasm for the day – after all, this turtle tank is something the majority of the kids walk past on a daily basis on their way to the bus stop. Clearly, it hasn’t dulled their interest.
‘Miss, are we allowed to feed them?’
I look at Aldon, chomping down on his Twix and shake my head, laughing. ‘Not if you mean chocolate. They’re vegetarian.’
‘Duh,’ a voice calls out from behind him and I pull a stern expression.
‘OK, that’s enough guys, let’s get inside now.’ They follow me into the entrance hall and after passing through the ticket office, I’m practically dragged by the children to come and see ‘Darth Vader.’ Intrigued, I follow them to the north rock tank where a Bermudian grouper fish is patrolling. The tank defies my expectations, from floor to ceiling I feel as if I’ve stepped into the ocean. A huge collection of tropical, brightly coloured fish and coral, dance and flit in front of me.
‘I bet you don’t have these fish swimming around in the UK, Miss.’
Laughing, I shake my head. ‘No, we only have fish battered with chips.’ The children giggle and I notice an aquarium volunteer arrive to join us. I introduce myself to her, before turning to the children. ‘OK, kids, Mrs Outterbridge will be our expert for today’s visit.’
I vaguely recognise the petite woman that has us all enraptured from the moment she begins speaking, but it’s not until lunchtime that I get a chance to chat properly to her without being overheard. Shanice, as it turns out, is a single mother to one of my younger students. She’s also warm, sassy and has a depth of knowledge about Bermuda that has me wondering why I haven’t dipped more into the local community since my arrival.
‘I just love teaching the kids about the reef and the natural history. For example, did you know Bermuda is an extinct volcano?’
I try to take in what she’s just said, stumped for a moment as I stare as her in disbelief. ‘Really?’
She points out to Harrington Sound and I follow her gaze. ‘Yes, that was the crater over there that once upon a time would’ve erupted with lava.’
‘No way. How amazing.’ I muse on the day so far and how much fun it’s been. ‘You must love volunteering here – I’d be in my element doing something like this. I just adore all wild and marine life. If it has fur, feathers, scales or a shell – I’m all over it,’ I say, watching as Shanice smiles and nods, her encouraging eyes telling me she’s exactly the same. ‘Although, there obviously hasn’t been much opportunity for me to get up close to tropical species in the UK. I have, however, really enjoyed being around those turtles you have outside. Sadly, I still haven’t managed to swim alongside one in the ocean yet, despite my attempts most weekends!’
‘You know we do a turtle scrub once a month, right? On a Sunday. Why don’t you come along to that?’ She shrugs her shoulders at me like it’s the most natural thing in the world to suggest.
‘Oh my gosh, I would love to do that.’ I hear myself squeal and feel all at once embarrassed, but she laughs at my enthusiasm.
After lunch, whilst supervising the scavenger hunt around the zoo, I find myself at the cage of an Australian tree kangaroo. With his perma-smile, stocky build and big pair of balls, I decide he’s my favourite animal of the day and christen him with the name of Spencer – taking a photo on my mobile to send to Tilly.
By the time the trip draws to an end, I’m tired but buoyant and feel that my own adolescent passion for wildlife and conservation has been firmly reignited, alongside my pupils. I say my goodbye to Shanice who has promised to be in contact about the turtle scrub and other events I might be interested in and load the children back onto the bus.
The moment we pull back into the school parking lot, I’m thankful that my shift has ended. It’s gone six when I arrive home exhausted and can finally think about unwinding. I’ve only been in for twenty minutes and am just preparing myself a cup of tea, when Tilly appears at the front door, face like thunder.
Turning towards her, I hold up a cup and a teabag but she shakes her head. Uh-oh. That’s always a bad sign. ‘What’s up? You OK?’
She kicks off her shoes, and stomps to the sofa. ‘Fucking Cullen is what. He’s let me down tonight.’
‘Oh, that’s not good. What did he say?’ She’s muttering under her breath and I can’t quite decipher her words. As far as I can make out, Cullen’s a dick and she should’ve known he wouldn’t be free for drinks.
‘I’m just done with men. They can all go and fuck themselves.’ She storms off into the bedroom and I shake my head, taking my cup of tea to the sofa. I sympathise with her because I know that feeling all too well. However, at least I’ve come to the understanding that my self-worth is key in stopping me from continuing to allow emotionally immature men into my life. Tilly still needs to arrive at that insight and until then it’s likely she’ll continue being a jerk magnet, forever riding the Mr Unavailable rollercoaster.
When she finally reappears, she’s a lot calmer and joins me on the sofa, propping her tanned feet – I note a fresh pedicure – on the coffee table.
‘Do you want to go for a drink with me tonight instead?’
She’s so imploring that I find myself torn. I most definitely don’t have the energy or inclination to go out, especially since I’m now in my pyjamas and have tomorrow’s lessons to prepare. Even more so, I really don’t want to keep up this social whirl of heavy drinking that I seem to have gotten drawn into since my arrival. It was fun to get to know people and let my hair down but it’s not something I’m going to make a regular occurrence. If I’m honest with myself, it’s becoming an obvious drawback of my new lifestyle, very much at odds with what I came here for. I hesitate, formulating a reply that I know won’t offend her.
‘How about we go out another night instead? Sorry, but I don’t really have time tonight – I’m swamped with planning.’
She sighs sulkily, biting down on her lip. ‘Fine. We’ll do tomorrow.’
We sit in relative silence for what seems like hours, until I finish up with the folders I’ve been combing through and stretch my arms above my head. ‘Gosh, that was a long day.’
‘What did you do at the zoo? It’s not the best, is it?’
I look at her quizzically. ‘Don’t you think so? I thought it was great. Especially the turtles. The kids seemed to enjoy it too.’
‘Oh yeah the turtles are fun to look at. But that’s about it. I liked the photo you sent of the furry thing. That was funny, it actually does look like Spence.’ She laughs, flicking through her phone.<
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Smiling, I get up and walk across to the kitchen to start preparing myself something to eat. ‘I met a nice woman too, a local Bermudian – she was our guide for the morning. She volunteers there.’
‘Why would anybody want to volunteer at a bloody zoo?’ she replies, rolling her eyes. ‘I bet all you end up doing all day is wiping up shit.’
‘Don’t be silly, you get to be close to the animals too. In fact, Shanice was telling me about the turtle scrubbing they do on Sundays. I’m going to go along.’
Tilly snaps her head up from her mobile, looking at me scornfully. ‘You’re going to volunteer to scrub a turtle?’ She purposely seems to accentuate the sentence. ‘On a day where you could be boating and drinking champs with me. Pfft.’
I really don’t like her tone or her attitude and I’m about to snap back but instead decide to bite my tongue. Turning my back to her, I open the fridge and will myself to be calmer. ‘Well, I think it’ll be really fun. There’s plenty of time for boating and drinking.’
‘Yeah, but you’re only here for six months. Stop being fuddy-duddy and make the most of it. Don’t be so boring.’
I refrain from retaliating that she is the uninspiring one for thinking that life is all about getting pissed when the island offers so much more than that. Instead, I spot the pizza I’d bought and, feeling thankful for the excuse of not having to spend much longer in the same room as her, pop it on the middle shelf of the oven.
‘Right, I’ve put a pizza in and it’ll be ready in ten mins if you want some. I’m going to give my parents a quick call.’ I don’t have any intention of calling my parents but I can’t bear to spend any longer with her sullen expression or indulgent attitude.
‘OK.’
Reaching my bedroom, I’m relieved to hear Tilly put the TV on in the other room and I flop down on my bed trying not to let her scorn about volunteering get to me. I’d spent my entire walk home from work thinking about Shanice’s words and how the prospect of volunteering has lit me up inside in a way I haven’t felt for a long while. It’d be incredible to get involved in some of the activities mentioned and what a gratifying way to give back to Bermuda and meet other like-minded people. Something Tilly clearly can’t see.
