by Carrie Stone
‘Why don’t you come back to mine after? I’ll do us a bit of lunch and we can talk over the turtle rehabilitation programme I was telling you about.’ I watch as Shanice glances towards Martin and the two others onboard. ‘That’s if you guys don’t need us once we get back to shore?’
‘You ladies go ahead. We’re all set for the day.’
‘Well?’ Shanice looks at me and waits for an answer.
Even though I’m physically tired and could do with a nap, I have been bugging Shanice for ages about getting more involved in the rehabilitation programme. Given that she’s the co-ordinator and I’m still massively pumped on adrenalin from our team’s success, surely it’d be silly not to go along? Besides, today has already proved to be a much-needed distraction from my worries, so why not continue to enjoy it for a while longer?
‘Yes, you know what – that’d be really nice.’
Shanice’s house is exactly as I’d expected – small but very colourful and homely, and her welcoming nature makes me immediately feel like I’ve visited there a hundred times before. We’ve barely been there for ten minutes when she sets down a plate of codfish and potatoes and joins me at the two-person dining table, handing me a plate. ‘Dig in. Lunch is always last night’s leftovers.’
‘Mmm. Looks delicious.’ I dish myself a generous portion and suddenly sensing her eyes on me, put my fork down. ‘What’s up? You’re staring?’
‘Are you feeling OK today? Seems like you’ve got things on that mind that you’re not saying. You weren’t really yourself earlier. I didn’t know if you might want to talk about it?’
I consider her for a moment, split between wondering how she’s so intuitive and whether I should confide in her. I decide to bite the bullet. If there’s anyone that has a listening ear and is non-judgemental, it’s Shanice. I reluctantly begin by telling her about my reservations about my friendship with Tilly – something that immediately makes me feel guilty and disloyal. Yet, with Shanice’s encouraging prompts, I know I’m in safe hands and it’s not long after that I also find myself offloading thoughts about my fears and hesitation at moving in with Spencer without a job.
She waits until I’ve finished and blows out air.
‘Humph. Sounds like you’ve got yourself into a real dilemma. About Tilly though, don’t be thinking it’s OK for her to be as self-centred as you’re telling me she is.’ She shakes her head and tuts loudly, seeming annoyed on my behalf.
‘You might have put up with that in the past, but life has a way of challenging us and forcing us to learn and grow. You know this, that’s why you’re in Bermuda.’ She takes a sip of her drink and waits for me to process her words. ‘Sounds to me like you’ve outgrown her. But that’s not something to be sad about – embrace it. It’s a good thing, for you at least. You’re friends but perhaps it’s time to distance yourself a little, steer yourself in your new direction.’ She looks at me pointedly. ‘And I know you’re loving getting involved in all this volunteering work. I know you’re made for it. Just like I am. It’s who we are. We are givers. Drinking, partying, it’s fun but it’s not always the answer to satisfaction. You’ve found an answer – contributing and preserving this beautiful planet.’
I smile at her words, expecting that she’d be bringing the volunteering into it at some point. But she’s right. I know deep down, she’s hit the nail on the head. It’s not Tilly that’s the issue, it’s me. I’ve changed.
‘You’re right. And I didn’t see it like that but it’s true – I’ve outgrown her.’
‘I’m right a lot of the time.’ She grins and I watch as she stabs her fork into a piece of codfish and takes a bite, pushing one of her loose braids back from her face.
‘And don’t fret over your decision to stay with Spencer or leave Bermuda either. You might not have a job here but at least you’ll still have the volunteering to keep you busy until something comes up. And I know that makes you happy. Plus I don’t want to lose your input. So I’m going to encourage you for my own selfish motivations.’ She grins at me then.
I put down my drink, feeling my heart lift. ‘Hang on, you mean I can still volunteer? Even though I won’t have a visa?’ I’m aware my mouth is slightly agape but I’m shocked. I don’t know why but I had just assumed the volunteering wouldn’t be an option once my job finished … at least until I had a new one in place. I realise now how naïve I’ve been; I hadn’t bothered to ask anybody else their thoughts or knowledge on the situation.
Shanice looks at me quizzically. ‘Of course, we aren’t letting you go that easily and yes, it’s allowed. Besides, we need a new weekend hand on the rehabilitation programme. That’s why I wanted to speak to you…’
The next hour passes quickly and I learn all about the opening on the programme and immediately know it’s something that’d be perfect for me and would more than likely keep me very busy whilst I await a new job. Not only would I be working alongside Shanice but the other regular volunteers I’ve grown closer to also.
By the time I’m ready to set off home, I’ve a spring in my step that wasn’t there this morning. Somehow things don’t look as complicated after all.
*
‘You can paint it if you want to.’ Spencer raises an eyebrow and grins at me.
‘Really? Do you mean that?’ I glance once again at the red wall and immediately begin envisioning it in a pale teal.
‘If it’s going to make you happier then yes, it’s going to be your bedroom too, so you may as well paint it a colour I don’t have to listen to you moan about.’ He laughs, then throws back the duvet and sits up, stretching his muscular, tanned arm above his head. ‘Uff, I don’t feel like work today.’
‘Come back to bed, call in sick and we’ll stay here all day.’ I reach over and caress his bare back as he turns around to look at me with a lustful expression. ‘We can spend it together … discussing paint colours.’
‘Ha ha, funny woman.’ He picks up the pillow and gently hits me on the head. ‘Anyway, I thought you said you had an early start too?’
I look on as he walks totally naked into the en-suite and from the reflection in the oversized wall mirror above the double sinks, I see him turn on the shower.
‘I do – I’m heading off soon.’ It’s my turn to reluctantly push off the thin duvet and gather my bits from the bedroom. By my reckoning, I’ve got more than enough time - just over an hour and a half – to get back to Tilly’s and get ready to rush off to school. I’m also looking forward to relaying the news to Tilly that Spencer has encouraged me to move in ASAP.
I wait the ten minutes it takes Spencer to shower, popping on the coffee machine and preparing both of us an espresso whilst seeing to Brody’s breakfast.
‘There’s a good boy. Now sit!’ I hold up one finger and Brody magically does the perfect sit pose, whilst I bend down and put the bowl of dry food in front of him. ‘Wait!’ I take two steps back, marvelling at how he’s willing to take commands from me. ‘Go on then!’ I watch as he dives forward, his little greying tail wagging enthusiastically as he hoovers up the contents of his dish.
‘Impressive. You finally got the hang of it.’ Spencer walks up behind me, smelling of peaches, and kisses me on the top of my head, his arms encasing me. ‘God, you’re sexy.’
‘I’m also stinky and not showered.’ I spin around to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist and feeling his hardness press against me. ‘But you on the other hand…’
A further twenty minutes has passed by the time I finally leave and make my way to Tilly’s. I’m on a high from the events of the previous day and evening. Having relayed to Spencer my conversation with Shanice about my volunteering, I was reassured to finally hear him be so enthusiastic about it. I’d even gone as far as feeling confident enough to tell him about Tilly, omitting the part about her pregnancy scare and Daryl and was relieved at him telling me that I should move in with him as soon as I’d like. Of course I didn’t think to hesitate this time, what with Tilly’s sar
castic comment and my newfound knowledge that my volunteering is still possible. Surely, it’s the perfect moment to make the leap? My only wonder now is how I’ll break it to her without affronting her.
I don’t have to wait long to find out that it’s not going to be as easy going as I’d hoped. She’s sitting listless in the lounge, the blinds pulled low, creating a dark hue when I make my way into the flat. I can tell from her puffy eyes that she’s been crying and it’s made worse by the fact there’s an empty bottle of wine in front of her.
‘Hey, are you OK?’ I venture, closing the door behind me and hanging my cardigan on its hook. She barely looks my way, instead staring forward into the darkness.
‘You were right. Daryl is a pig.’
‘Why, what’s happened?’ I dread to think of the newest fiasco but I’m grateful she’s at least woken up to his true colours. I walk closer but she doesn’t move.
She finally turns to me, expressionless but eyes of steel. ‘We met up last night and he’s finished with me.’ She takes a moment to gather herself. ‘Told me that he thinks its best he concentrates on his career because the pregnancy scare made him realise that going behind Christie’s back is too risky.’
‘Wow. He certainly didn’t sugar coat it, did he.’ I walk over to the opposite chair and sit down. ‘What did you say?’
She gets up and stretches her neck. ‘I told him exactly what I thought of him. And also what you said.’ She manages a weak grin. ‘I told him I’m an absolute mug for ever giving him the benefit of doubt and that not only is his dick tiny compared to my exes but he’s a fucking lousy shag.’
Smiling, I clap my hands. ‘Brilliant. Well, he deserved it even if it was a bit childish.’
She raises an eyebrow and I’m pleased to see there’s a smirk. ‘Not childish, true. I honestly don’t know how I didn’t see this coming. I feel so stupid.’
‘Sitting here in the darkness probably isn’t going to help,’ I add, getting up and walking to the windows. ‘Let me open these blinds and make you a cup of tea?’
‘It’s OK, I’ll make us both one. I’ve pretty much been up the whole night crying.’ She goes to the kettle, picking it up and filling it with water as I let the first welcome stream of light into the room. ‘Waste of my tears, really.’
‘Better a waste of tears than your life.’ I finish with the blinds and go back over to the sofa area and gather up the mess she’s made. ‘You should get on Tinder today, get a date lined up. It’ll take your mind off it even though we can pretty much guarantee it’ll go nowhere.’ We both laugh lightly and I notice she’s looking less teary as she pops a teabag into the two mugs.
Taking a deep breath, I know it’s now or never to mention my news. There’s no point dragging things out.
‘So, I know it’s not good timing to mention this but Spencer has asked me to move in, as soon as possible.’ I’m thankful that she’s got her back to me and continue. ‘I was thinking, maybe I’ll go after next weekend. What with work ending in a few weeks anyway.’
She’s silent for a moment and I wonder if she’s ignoring me or possibly crying again. But she suddenly spins around with a normal expression and nods.
‘If that’s what you want, then of course. You do whatever makes you happy.’ She walks across with a steaming mug of tea and passes it to me. ‘It’ll likely be more fun with him than me in a miserable mope.’ She gives me a small smile, takes a sip of her tea and sits down. ‘It’ll be good for you.’
Relieved, I join her on the opposite armchair. ‘Thanks for being so understanding. Hopefully it’ll go well enough that I won’t be on your doorstep anytime soon.’
‘Let’s hope not,’ she says, winking at me.
Taking in her withdrawn complexion and puffy eyes, I’m reminded that life doesn’t always go smoothly. And although I was joking with my comment, a small part of me unexpectedly wonders what I’ll do if it doesn’t work out, living with Spencer. What if my feelings for him don’t happen to get any deeper, a job doesn’t appear and it’s all a big mistake?
I push away the fleeting thought. If I’ve learnt one thing, it’s that I’m more than capable of starting afresh and rebuilding a life abroad, so on that basis – I’ll always be absolutely okay.
*
‘You’re mad, it’s going to be epic. And you did promise.’
I look on as Tilly sprays herself generously with factor 50 and am pleased to see that she’s once again glowing. Her earlier woes are long gone and within a week the turnaround has been huge. I’m surprised to see how quickly she’s managed to move on from Daryl and if I hadn’t been around to witness her out every night on different Tinder dates, I wouldn’t have quite believed it. Part of me is slightly concerned she’s taking her new ‘freedom’, as she calls it, to the extreme. It’s not exactly healthy that’s she’s practically a bitch on heat but it’s better than the unsociable, shrinking version of her that had followed the first few days after Daryl’s rejection. At least the Tilly I know is back. Even if it’s a slightly over-the-top version.
‘I know and I would if I still didn’t have so much marking – but the kids need their exams back and I wasn’t expecting it to take this long.’ As if to prove my point, I begin unloading the remaining piles of papers from my bag. Just the sight of the workload before me has me wanting to run and hide. The last week of work has been so crazy busy that there’s nothing more I’d like than to be joining everyone for a raft up today – the thought of being out on the water on such a glorious day is so enticing. Instead I’m once again stuck inside, snowed under. I turn back to Tilly.
‘Sorry but today is another work day. Sadly, life isn’t one big party.’
‘Well, mine is,’ she replies, grinning and re-adjusting her new pink bikini, which looks sensational. She ties up her halter dress and gives herself a final once over in the lounge mirror. ‘Right, I’m all set. Are you certain about this? You’re going to miss out on a great day.’
‘Yep I’m certain.’
I know I can’t moan too much because I’d had a wonderful bank holiday at Snorkel Bay, where I had my first experience of seeing a shoal of squid. Plus spending the afternoon with Spencer showing me the delights of St George’s and following it up with a homemade sunset picnic on his boat at Turtle Bay, makes it all the more difficult to be miffed about needing to pull full days, like today. Six months ago, I would’ve been lucky to experience a picnic in my local Essex park with a gorgeous man, let alone aboard a speedboat on turquoise water in the height of a Bermudian summer.
‘OK, well I’ll leave you to it then. If you change your mind just let Spence know. I’m sure he wouldn’t think twice about coming back to get you.’ She’s teasing but we both know it’s true. He’s such a softy and if it wasn’t for my insistence that he joined the others today, he would’ve been happy to hang out at his, while I did my marking.
Laughing, I shake my head at her cheekiness as she puts on new oversized designer sunglasses and heads for the street door.
‘See you later.’
‘Doubt you will! I’ll be partying till the small hours. Woo!’ I hear her laugh in delight before a loud thud of the door bangs behind her, telling me she’s left.
‘And I don’t disbelieve it,’ I whisper to myself, picking up my pen and re-arranging the papers before me.
Thankful for the sudden peace, I pause, taking a moment to look around the room wistfully. It’s mad to think I’ll be moving out in a couple of days. But I’m more than ready, especially now that Tilly seems to be in a better state of mind.
The day passes quickly and despite a brief chat with Spencer at lunchtime, I crack on without interruption, knowing that one full day of having my head down will pay off. It’s nearing nine o’clock in the evening when I decide to take a break as I’ve only got three papers left. I check my phone, seeing that both Tilly and Spencer have sent me messages about joining them and the others for a follow up drink on Front Street. I see that the messages were sent n
early two hours ago and I grimace at the thought, having no desire to take up the offer. They’ll all mostly likely be ridiculously drunk by now after a day on the boat drinking. I picture Spence merry and feel myself smiling. Luckily, he’s a good drunk person, a happy one, but I’m pleased I won’t be there to join in with the hangover tomorrow.
I return to the sofa to crack on with the final papers and am relieved when within thirty minutes, I’m finished. Counting out my pile to place back in my bag, my joy is short-lived when I realise I’m missing one name.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, where is it.’ I quickly sift through the pile. The light from the lounge side lamp isn’t the brightest but I can’t displace the sinking feeling I have. I’d brought the marking with me to Tilly’s boat last weekend. It was the day after she’d found out Daryl wanted to call things off and we’d gone down to the marina to have lunch. Except I’d taken my marking with the intention of staying an extra hour in the cabin to work and give Tilly some space at home. Clearly it hadn’t happened because instead of having a chilled ‘cheer up’ lunch, Tilly had insisted upon a ‘cheer up’ bottle of champagne.
‘I bet it’s on the boat.’ I say the words aloud, grimacing. It’s nine-thirty and dark outside. The last thing I want to be doing is going out in my pyjamas to the boat to search for an exam paper. But what choice do I have? After three calls to Tilly and no answer, I know it’s a pointless effort to wait until she appears to ask her for the cabin key.
Padding over to the kitchen junk drawer in my flip-flops, I find the spare key for emergencies hidden amongst the barbeque skewer sticks. Thankfully the boat is only a ten-minute walk from the flat and slipping my PJ bottoms off and replacing them with a pair of shorts, I’m passable for the short journey. I’m surprised to find there’s a welcome light breeze as I leave the apartment and although the marina is well-lit, there are few people about. It’s peaceful down by the mooring and the calming lull of gentle waves combined with shimmering moonlight across the water’s surface, lulls me into a relaxed, soothing state.
