The boat hugged the ocean’s swell and the horizon bobbed up and down. Up and down. Deep and high. A wave of nausea lapped against the back of my throat. I even stopped whistling. That was a habit. I used to whistle as a child, when I got nervous. It helped me cope with the atmosphere when Dad was in one of his moods.
As I’d grown older, I whistled for other reasons too, when I was on my own. A good day at work. A fun evening cooking with Amy. But old habits died hard and if I was out of my comfort zone my lips rolled into an ‘o’ shape and – unfortunately for everyone else – a not very pleasant sound came out. Amy was the musical one.
I’d forgotten that I used to get seasickness. Dad would tell me to get a grip. I started to pray for the journey to end and closed my eyes…
‘Wake up sleepy head, we’re almost there,’ said Amy. I squinted and relief flushed through me as the boat aimed for an island ahead. It was oval-shaped and covered with foliage that became mountainous on the right-hand side. I felt as if I were in one of those movies where we’d land and dinosaurs from another era would appear. Perhaps there would be a Caribbean band playing to welcome us, and coconut and pineapple cocktails. Not that I’d be able to drink one. I staggered to stern. Helga called after me that seasickness could be defeated by visualising calm waters.
It didn’t work.
As we approached the island there was no calypso music. No aroma of rum. In fact, a wrecked boat lay on the beach, amongst unkempt bushes. In parts, fallen-down trees lay across the sand, along with strewn seaweed and shells. The jetty looked worn. The woman steered now and Rick cleared his throat loudly. He took off his hat, ran fingers through his spiked hair, and put it back on.
‘Almost there, folks. Thanks again for booking with us. We’ll disembark and then I’ll run you through a few basics about your stay. As you’ll know from the website, my family own Seagrass Island and I’ve been in charge of restoring it since Hurricane Irma in 2017.’
‘I remember seeing that storm on the news,’ I said to Amy and gave a low burp. ‘Richard Branson’s place was trashed. That international luxury hotelier magazine I subscribe to featured it recently. He was back in business a year later, everything fully restored.’ Despite the nausea, I managed a smile. ‘If Rick’s family have had enough money to own an island then they’ll have been able to afford an opulent rebuild. Our rooms should look even more immaculate than they ever did before.’
‘No. You’re wrong. It must have been a real struggle because…’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘Surprise! I’ve been dying to tell you, these last couple of weeks… I swapped plans at the last minute, a few days before the full payment was due for the other luxury stay. I swapped islands. Swapped holidays. Instead of paying the full amount for the high-end hotel trip when I went online, I booked and paid for four weeks living as part of a community, camping out and contributing to conservation. That’s the only stay available here.’
The feeling of sickness swelled.
‘That day we went clothes shopping for this holiday… how you talked about using these four weeks to draw together a personal statement for your CV – I realised the break I’d planned was too much like your everyday routine at work. So instead I looked for a true escape from your daily life. No one should be doing career research when they are taking a break. The way you spoke so fondly of guide camp… how you felt grown-ups became complacent… I promise you, Sarah, there’s nothing about the next four weeks that is going to remind you of Best Travel or the hotel industry or any of your responsibilities there.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘It’s been really hard to keep this secret as I knew you’d be so excited at the prospect of such an adventure.’
I stared at Amy.
No pastry pyramids? No hot tub or opulent beach huts? No evening entertainment or Netflix?
I blinked several times before leaning overboard and throwing up.
5
Jonas rummaged in the pockets of his trousers. He handed me some tissues. I wiped my mouth.
‘Happens every time,’ said Rick as he came over. ‘I must put a reminder on the website for people to bring travel sickness pills. The waters around Seagrass Island can get pretty choppy. It’s because we lie in the belt of the Trade Winds. They are at their strongest in July. It’s why the Virgin Islands are great for sailing.’
He draped an arm around my shoulders and steered me off the boat and onto the jetty. He let go as soon as we were on solid land.
Rick felt solid. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been held in arms like that. Helga shot me a piteous look and delved into her rucksack. She offered me her bottle of water.
The drink revived my spirits and brought back my sister’s words. Living in a tent? My face broke into a wide smile. Honestly. Amy had really chosen her moment to pull such a joke. She got her audacious sense of humour from Mum who was always trying to fool us. Like when she served our favourite fried eggs with toast on April Fools’. They were actually peach halves in circles of yoghurt. The three of us cried with laughter.
I missed that.
Feeling nostalgic, I decided to go along with the charade for now.
‘What do you think?’ asked Amy, eyebrows raised. ‘It’s going to be just like when Mum took us camping to Cornwall. Remember how much fun we had? She’d tumble dry our wellies because it rained so hard on the beach, but we didn’t care. Remember those bags of doughnuts? And how she let us stay up late?’
Dad had been too tied up at work to go. It was the best holiday ever, exploring rock pools and running away half-screaming from the cold tide.
However, that was over twenty years ago. My tastes had changed.
‘This whole idea is so thoughtful,’ I said, deserving an Oscar. ‘It’s just a shame I’ve brought all my handbags and high heels.’
Amy linked arms as we headed to Rick who was beckoning us over. ‘I nearly said something, but didn’t want to give away any clues. That’s why I encouraged you to bring those walking boots. At least, underneath your fancy clothes, I’ve hidden a practical cap and…’
Oh, she was good. I swigged more water before wiping the bottle’s top with my palm and passing it back to Helga. ‘Imagine how boring it would have become, doing nothing for four weeks but sunbathing and sipping Cosmopolitans?’ I’d get Amy worried now. We’d laugh about it later. I’d tease her about not being able to get one over her older, clearly much wiser sister.
‘I’m so glad you feel the same as me. I was prepared to stay somewhere high-end for your sake, but secretly that’s my idea of hell. All that posh interior decor with its artificial smells and plants… instead, we’ll be waking up in the outdoors…’ she said, dreamily.
Mosquitoes? Spiders? Soil instead of carpet? Sticky heat instead of aircon?
No thanks.
Inwardly I chuckled at her believing I’d actually prefer a month roughing it.
The curly-haired woman stood next to Rick, her short, slight frame emphasising his height. She passed him a clipboard. He read it and nodded. I smacked my arm as a fly landed near my elbow. Once we’d checked in, I’d take a long bubble bath and apply a thick layer of insect repellent – after insisting that Amy chose her bedroom first. It’s the least she deserved. I’d carefully unpack. Knowing Amy, she’d just grab her costume and head straight for the pool. Then I’d check the location of fire exits and ring home to make sure Nelly was okay.
‘Welcome to Seagrass Island,’ Rick said. ‘It’s a pleasure to introduce you all to my family’s Caribbean home. My grandmother, Margot Crocker, bought it in the early Eighties when she was CEO and head designer of Crocker & Crowley.’
‘The shoe shop?’ I said. Mum had always taken us there as small children to get our feet measured. I hadn’t seen a high street branch for a few years.
‘Yes. She set up the company, having studied fashion design at university. Her dad soled shoes for a living and that’s where Gran got her interest from. My late granddad, Dave Crowley, took care of the business side.
They started off small, selling her designs from a stall on Carnaby Street. Parents loved the friendly service their children received and she soon worked out offering a personal service for families would succeed.’ Pride shone through his voice. ‘My mum and dad run the company now with my brother, Lee, although she still attends board meetings. Gran wanted to create a getaway destination for her family – an escape from the hustle bustle of London. She did an ancestry test once. Apparently, way back, our family has Latin American blood.’
That explained his sexy dark looks.
‘She said that must be why she’d always longed for an island home. I suspect she might have bought one in say Costa Rica or Haiti if it weren’t for my dear grandfather’s belief that he should be able to sail through life only ever speaking English.’
Everyone smiled.
‘The build was complete by 1985. There have been eleven family weddings here since. A couple of big birthdays. Many Christmases. Even a divorce celebration. I’ve spent most summers here for as long as I can remember. That’s how I developed a love of the natural world and ended up studying Geology at university. As a child I’d spend long summer days studying all sorts landscapes and creatures – collecting rocks and wildlife. I’ll never forget Mum’s shriek when she discovered a garden snake in my bedside drawer.’
I wondered why he’d share such private information. Best Travel guests knew nothing personal about me.
‘Sadly the bricks and mortar were wrecked by Hurricane Irma three years ago, along with parts of the forest and the coastline. Since then we’ve been working hard to restore the island to its former glory. At this point I’d like to introduce Jackie.’ He nodded at his friend. ‘Twelve years ago, we were freshers together, at university. Jackie studied Zoology and has been working in an animal rescue centre in Colombia. I was thrilled when she jumped at the chance to help me here. It makes up for the time she couldn’t jump back quick enough when I made a freshman’s attempt to date her.’
Playfully she punched his arm.
My heartbeat skippity jumped. This was probably one of the most cutting-edge hotels in the world. I imagined trips diving for pearls and swim-up bars.
‘Hurricane Irma had a devastating effect on parts of the animal, marine and bird populations.’ He became serious for a moment and went into detail.
I loved our cat Nelly and was fond of next door’s dog, but didn’t watch David Attenborough documentaries and wished Rick would focus more on describing the spa treatments or cordon bleu food. Yet everyone else was rapt with his wildlife chat and Helga filmed him, on her phone. Apart from Jonas. He looked at me and pulled a face.
‘The days straight after the hurricane dolphins and manatees found themselves stranded on our beach. Birds were blown out of nests. Trees and foliage destroyed. One of the island’s butterfly species is now even more endangered than before and…’
I couldn’t help zoning out. Oh, I’d contribute to a conservation charity box or sign a petition. I did my best to recycle and had stopped using plastic water bottles. It’s just that I wasn’t nearly as passionate as my sister. Her vision focused on the future. Mine concentrated on the day-to-day. Amy worried about the longevity of our planet and that was good – we needed people to do that. But I was more concerned with the longevity of my pay packet and whether it would pay bills and the mortgage.
I was tired. Hot. I needed a shower. Something to drink. But then Amy’s enamoured face brought my attention back to what Rick was saying.
Because I never wanted to be like Dad.
Whenever Amy talked about animals as a child, he’d change the conversation, somehow always ending up on a subject where he was king. ‘It’s all very well enjoying Biology, Amy, but never forget, Maths is the most important subject. I was the high-flyer of my class for five years running at high school. You need to push yourself and start getting top marks instead of your usual seven or eight out of ten.’
I never dared zone out of Dad’s chats. Not until my late teens hit and I saw him for who he really was.
Therefore, I re-focused again and found myself becoming invested in what Rick said, genuinely joining Amy with a sad face when he talked about turtles’ nests having been ruined by the hurricane. I felt relief alongside her when we heard that tree frogs and iguanas did okay. Jonas also seemed moved. I understood sibling love. How he’d solider on and enjoy the holiday for Helga’s sake. Once settled perhaps I’d speak with the resort’s entertainment manager. Maybe there was a group of musicians who could lend Jonas a guitar. That might perk him up.
I’d watched a television series last year about top hotels around the world. One featured was Giraffe Manor in Kenya. Giraffes stuck their long necks through windows in the dining area, to be fed treats. It looked amazing. My pulse quickened. What if this was a luxury resort specifically for animal lovers or those who wanted a holiday with a difference?
I couldn’t wait to find out!
As if the universe had heard me, Amy nudged my arm. Rick said something about seeing our living quarters and we walked upwards, away from the beach and through forest. The path wasn’t well established and I struggled to pull my unwieldy case. I jumped as a nettle batted my leg. I couldn’t wait to see mown lawns and symmetrical borders bursting with colourful flowers. Up ahead a building came into view with scaffolding blurring its outline. Our home for the next month was no doubt beyond that.
Except we turned a sharp left.
‘This way,’ said Rick and undid a button of his shirt. I tried not to stare at the toned pecs. ‘Would you like me to take your luggage?’
‘No thanks,’ I said and immediately regretted it. It’s just I was used to managing on my own.
Downwards we walked now, along a narrow path lined by prickly looking plants.
‘You’ll love our accommodation,’ said Amy. ‘It’s far better than any stuffy hotel.’ She swang her arms and sang ‘Be My Guest’ from Beauty and the Beast.
Benedikt caught up and joined in. ‘That musical is almost as good as Mamma Mia!’ he said when they finished the song. ‘But nothing will ever beat Hamilton, don’t you think?’
Amy groaned. ‘I haven’t been able to afford to see that yet.’
He shot her a sympathetic look. ‘I was lucky. My friend works in the theatre and got me a discounted ticket. It meant travelling all the way to Frankfurt but was worth it.’
Rick called out that the prickly plants were called Christmas bushes and we should avoid them as contact with skin could cause a rash. Under my arms felt increasingly damp as our descent continued. The dazzling sunshine made me squint. If only I was wearing the wide-rimmed Audrey Hepburn hat I’d packed.
Rick and Jackie turned around as we finally came to the beach, lined by palm trees near the forest. For a moment I forgot my discomfort. Waters clearer than micellar cleanser rippled over golden sands. The sharp white sales of distant yachts broke up the horizon. Sun rays lit up waves, making the ocean look as if it were made up of liquid jewels. A cackling noise broke my concentration and I looked up to see a bird with a white chest and black head. Its call was sharp and made up of a series of loud notes.
‘Is that a… laughing gull?’ asked Amy tentatively.
‘Well spotted,’ said Rick.
‘There are over two hundred species of birds on the British Virgin Islands, and whilst some are endangered, during your stay you’ll see a glorious array of ones that feed from the sea, shore or forest,’ said Jackie. She was softly spoken.
‘It would be brilliant to spot a West Indian whistling duck,’ said Helga.
‘Yes. They’re under threat,’ said Amy and pride filled my chest at my knowledgeable sister.
‘You might just do that, on the far side of the island,’ said Jackie. Members of the group took off their shoes and ecstatic expressions crossed their faces as their toes wriggled in the sand.
‘Perhaps we will be lucky enough to see the wunderbar yellow-billed cuckoo,’ said Benedikt.
‘To spot
a parrot would be amazing,’ I chipped in, hoping that breed frequented this place.
‘Or a flamingo,’ piped up Jonas.
‘They aren’t indigenous to this island, Dummkopf,’ said Helga and rolled her eyes.
I sent Jonas a sympathetic look.
I was used to being the one in the know. As assistant manager my day was spent fielding questions from staff and customers. But on this trip, so far, I felt like a pub quiz loser.
Rick readjusted his hat. ‘Let’s get you to your home for the next month. There’ll be time to freshen up and then I’ll take you on an introductory walk around the island before dinner.’
No chance, I thought, and scratched my arm. Amy and I could explore in our own time tomorrow. I dragged my case along a bumpy dried mud path, past the palm trees and once again through forest. I struggled when we came to rough ground. Before I could protest, Jonas took my case and easily lifted it over a tree stump. He’d tied back his dreadlocks and wiped his perspiring brow with his arm. Soon we came into a clearing where the treetops parted. Rays of sunshine beamed down, like giant torches leading the way to…
… a cluster of shacks on stilts, made out of wood, with pointed triangular roofs.
They were small, with mosquito blinds for windows and a short ladder going up to the front door. Hammocks hung in between trees. Dotted about were benches carved out of thick trunks. Rick had fallen back from the rest and suddenly put out his arm in front of me. I stopped. He bent down and gently picked up a shiny striped brown millipede. I flinched and stepped back as it crawled across his hand. He encouraged the others to take photos. Amy explained how she’d read that they could emit a foul-smelling liquid if under threat. Rick nodded and carefully put the insect down, onto soil, out of the way of my feet.
The Summer Island Swap Page 4
