The Summer Island Swap

by Samantha Tonge

  ‘Off you go, little chap,’ he said. Defiantly those many legs marched off.

  I felt like joining them.

  6

  I gazed at my comrades – that’s what they felt like, in the face of the battle ahead of us to insist that this was not the accommodation we’d booked. Despite being younger than everyone else, Helga seemed like a sturdy sort. Between us I was sure we could arrange a full refund or transfer to more suitable premises.

  Yet why was everyone else smiling, including Amy?

  ‘This is hardly the British Virgin Island experience I signed up for,’ I said, brightly.

  ‘My fault,’ said Amy and looked around at the others. ‘I’d just told my sister we’d be camping – you know, in tents.’

  Rick’s frown disappeared. ‘Ah. Agreed, and I feel for you – there’s nothing quite like the fresh smell of damp polyester in the morning. But you’ll get to camp on the beach when it’s your turn to go on the night-time turtle nest excursion. We run those daily in July and August and go out in small groups.’

  What was he talking about?

  Rick started allocating shacks. He directed the two couples over to one on the left and Jonas and Benedikt straight ahead.

  ‘Each shack has two bunks, so sleeps four. You two men will be joining a father and son from Scotland who’ve already been here for a week. They are helping to mend a rope bridge, at the moment, with one of our most enthusiastic volunteers, Carlotta, who comes from Italy. Everyone is always out at this hour, Monday to Friday, completing the day’s tasks. This is the third summer Seagrass Conservation has been running. It started off very small but now we have around fifty volunteers here at any one time, with people coming and going from May to October. Around ten are staying for the whole season and some of those have become task leaders, alongside our small team of permanent staff. There are two other clusters of shacks further along the beach.’

  Huh?

  ‘They will all be back for dinner in an hour or so which gives you time to settle in and then we’ll take a tour before meeting them. We eat together in the canteen block, every night. That’s at the far end of the beach, next door to a games room. Malik’s the chef and a genius at making use of local ingredients for meals.’ He consulted his list. ‘Helga, Amy and Sarah, you’re here.’ He pointed to the shack nearest, on the right.

  ‘I don’t understand. Where’s our hotel?’ I said to Amy in a low voice.

  She grinned. I didn’t grin back.

  ‘The Roman pillars and waterbeds, the Aqua Dancing… everything I saw on that website back in the spring…’

  ‘Sarah…’ Her cheeks pinked up. ‘I thought you agreed that this was a great idea?’

  I shook my head vigorously.

  ‘But that pampered kind of break wouldn’t have felt like a break from the everyday. I didn’t want you to be in a work environment whilst you were supposed to be on holiday. So… as I told you, I… I swapped the holiday a couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘You aren’t serious?’

  She stared.

  My hand flew to my chest. ‘We’re actually sleeping here?’

  Slowly she nodded.

  ‘As part of a volunteering community, with no mod cons – no bath or air-conditioning…?’

  ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’ interrupted Helga who overheard. She picked up her rucksack and headed towards… our shack?

  Rick held up a hand. ‘Before you settle in… Jackie, could you introduce everyone to the toilet and washing facilities.’ He winked. ‘May as well get that over with and then we’ll explain everything else when we show you around later.’

  I didn’t like his tone. What could be wrong with the bathroom facilities?

  Amy pointed at the hammocks. ‘It’s just like that jungle celebrity programme you love.’

  ‘That’s on the telly. I get to watch it in my pyjamas, on a comfy sofa, with my cosy water bottle and mug of hot chocolate,’ I hissed.

  No wonder Jonas had reservations. He’d known what was coming. Numbly I followed Jackie, further back into the forest. She pointed to two unisex cubicles, their walls made from sheets of hemp. Their roofs were made from corrugated metal. To the right stood a basic sink and bar of soap.

  Please. No.

  ‘Compost toilets?’ said Benedikt and his face lit up as he took out his phone. ‘My Instagram followers won’t believe it.’ He started singing ‘Circle of Life’ from The Lion King.

  Jackie pulled aside the front sheet of hemp of one cubicle to reveal what looked like a plastic-rimmed bucket in the middle of a square box. ‘You sit on the seat and do your business, then…’ She pointed to a bowl of sawdust next to a roll of toilet paper. ‘Sprinkle a handful of that on top. Once the bucket is full someone must empty it – your name will be put on a rota for that. All the rotas are in the canteen. Each cluster of shacks has its own toilets.’

  Amy kept shooting me nervous looks.

  About ten metres further into the forest we stopped and Jackie pointed to something called the compost bay that was a shallowly fenced off area of ground, about two metres square and in two halves. ‘You pour the bucket’s contents into this half and then fork the hay from the other half on top. Everything is left then, to compost down. You just keep repeating this process until the bay is full. This lovely compost is perfect for growing vegetables.’

  ‘Every household in Europe should be made to have one and eat homegrown produce,’ said Helga.

  ‘I don’t think there would be many vegans, if they did,’ I said weakly to Jonas.

  We walked back towards the camp and veered right. There was a white shower block. It didn’t have a roof. We opened individual doors behind each of which was a plughole and shower head.

  Amy had mentioned my favourite reality show. Perhaps that’s what this was. I looked around hopefully for cameras but enthusiastic television presenters didn’t jump out of the bushes. I rubbed my eyes and opened them again… this had to be a bad dream. Perhaps I was still on the aeroplane and would wake up to some charming air steward offering me a glass of Prosecco and a packet of nuts.

  It reminded me of how I felt, the day I left home, all those years ago – like I didn’t belong. I remembered giving my stepmother a small smile and ignoring Dad’s glare as I walked down the drive… I’d never forget the surreal prospect of coping alone as an adult. I’d missed Mum even more than usual at that particular moment – especially after his cruel accusation that followed me into the taxi like a slow-moving poison dart. I didn’t have a family. Or a home. All I had was the dream of, one day, being able to build a life with Amy.

  I looked up at the treetops. All my creature comforts were back in England. My familiar life. The certainty of routine.

  None of the creatures here would be comforting.

  ‘Eventually you’ll get used to all the bugs, attracted by the water,’ said Jackie, ‘but if you find a tarantula Malik is more than happy to move it with a bucket and brush. He grew up over on Tortola. We’re very lucky to have him. His brother is a marine biologist who runs a conservation project there and Malik has picked up a lot of his knowledge. His wife, Zina, lives on Tortola, working in a beauty salon, but Malik spends many nights here during the summer as he’s up early to cook breakfast and—’

  ‘Did she say tarantula?’ I glared at my sister.

  ‘They’re not much different to anything back in England, really,’ said Amy brightly. ‘Just think of them as house spiders with glamorous fur coats.’

  ‘Nothing is glamorous about this place,’ said Jonas.

  He already felt like a best friend.

  Why would anyone spend thousands of pounds on a break like this? It didn’t make sense. This Rick bloke was taking advantage of well-meaning people by charging that much.

  ‘It’s cold water, of course, but you’ll probably be grateful for that after a day out in the heat,’ said Jackie. ‘The sea is only a five-minute walk away, if you fancy a dip there instead.’

  ‘I’m so
excited,’ said Helga and calmly swatted away a wasp.

  I didn’t like wasps but at least it was an insect I’d seen before.

  ‘It reminds me of summers spent roaming the Black Forest as a small child,’ Helga continued and turned to her brother. ‘They were such fun, nicht wahr?’

  ‘I could never wait to get back to my books and drawing pencils.’

  She clapped him on the back. ‘Always you protest too much. Fresh air like this for one month – think how healthy and clear-minded we will be on our return home in August.’

  ‘Just imagine what a sense of achievement we’ll feel after our stay,’ said Benedikt. ‘I’m betting it will feel even more intense than the rush I got after climbing Everest last year with my colleagues at the bank – or when I saw the number of likes I got on Instagram when I posted a photo of me at the peak.’

  Clearly this was a holiday for adrenaline junkies.

  ‘Are spiders very common around here?’ asked Jonas.

  Instinctively he and I edged nearer to each other – safety in numbers. Even if there were only two of us who had sense enough to realise this place was a death zone. Tropical insects? In my job I was used to dealing with bedbugs. Sometimes scabies mites. Or woodworm. Occasionally fleas if someone had smuggled a pet in. But anything bigger than those creatures…

  ‘We are lucky enough to have several types of tarantulas,’ said Jackie.

  ‘I can’t wait to spot one,’ said Helga.

  ‘Lucky?’ I said, folding my arms as if to protect myself.

  ‘They are actually reclusive little things…’ Jackie shot me a smile. ‘There are scorpions too, but you don’t need to worry. In all my years working here I’ve never heard of anyone getting stung.’

  A lump formed in my throat at her soft tones. Apart from Jonas, Jackie was the only person who suspected this island was my idea of hell. She announced she’d be back in five with some complimentary reusable drinking water containers. It was hardly the champagne welcome I’d expected. Everyone made their way into their shacks.

  But to unpack? Not likely. Firstly, my suitcase would remain zipped tightly shut to keep out any creepy crawlies. Secondly, there was no point. I wouldn’t be staying. This was all a terrible mistake. And I’d been so looking forward to being pampered. Tears welled but I blinked them back.

  ‘You didn’t know exactly what kind of holiday this was going to be?’ said Jonas as we walked back to our shacks. ‘That’s tough.’

  ‘That’s a generous use of the word holiday,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

  He shook his head. ‘The only bugs I am used to are the ones I come across in my computer. What if we get bitten? A bite might paralyse my arm. I’ve got my music to think of.’

  ‘You’re serious about your guitar?’

  His eyes lit up. ‘Yes. I was in a band at uni and—’

  ‘Sarah! Let’s get settled in our shack,’ called Helga and she waved. She was already on the steps, Amy not far behind her.

  ‘Why did I agree to this?’ muttered Jonas. ‘I’ve no idea how I’ll get to sleep, tonight. What if a snake gets in?’

  I hadn’t thought about that.

  ‘At least you and I can moan to each other about those sorts of things, right?’ he said. ‘Helga doesn’t understand. She thinks I’m weak.’ Jonas sighed. ‘See you later,’ he mumbled and headed over to Benedikt.

  I reached our shack and went in. Helga took the upper bunk on the left. Amy asked me if I wanted top or bottom on the right.

  I stared at the sleeping bags. There was no pretty throw, nor carefully placed array of plump cushions. Instead of a centimetre of plush carpet beneath my feet there was hard, unpolished wood. I wasn’t a diva. Goodness knows I’d made do with the basics when I’d first left home, living at the grotty bed and breakfast. There had been hairs in the bedding and mould in the shower.

  I pursed my lips and focused on the situation in hand. The narrow bed. The suffocating atmosphere. The thing was, I’d worked hard for a better standard of living. A rest from work wouldn’t be found in turning time backwards.

  I spun around and hotfooted it outside.

  Amy followed. ‘Sarah? Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this.’

  7

  ‘Look at me,’ I said to Amy. ‘I paint my nails. And eyebrows. I even iron my socks. I’m just not cut out living in the wilds. I played along when you first told me – thought it was one of your practical jokes.’ Deep breaths. ‘You stay. Enjoy yourself. It’ll be more fun without my complaints about bugs and humid nights.’ I kissed Amy on the cheek, already feeling better. ‘Why not ring Holly at work? Perhaps she’d like to join you here for a couple of weeks and take my place. She’d only have to buy an air ticket.’

  Her cheeks turned blotchy. ‘But I booked this place especially for you. For us. Quality time away from our London lives. You and me, together, making a difference.’

  ‘You really booked it for me?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I sighed. ‘Ignore me. I’m just feeling out of sorts.’

  Amy folded her arms and tilted her head. She’d done that as long as I could remember. It was her way of extracting an answer to a difficult question. Like when I was about ten and once scoffed the last piece of her Easter chocolate, thinking it wouldn’t be missed, telling myself that me eating it would be better for her teeth.

  ‘It’s just… I’m not the David Attenborough fan who works with animals.’ I tried to keep my voice sunny.

  ‘You really think I’m that selfish – to put my desires first?’ Her voice wavered.

  Amy was the most selfless person I knew. She’d offer up the last slice of pizza and was always bringing home waifs and strays from the surgery that had been handed in and couldn’t be homed for a few days. ‘Of course not,’ I said and exhaled. ‘It’s been amazing of you to spend thousands of pounds on me… but honestly… what were you thinking?’

  ‘That holiday with Mum we talked about, in Cornwall…’ She spoke in a small voice. ‘You loved camping… and I thought this would be an adventure.’

  ‘At the time I also loved the Spice Girls and banana and jam sandwiches.’

  ‘But what about the fun you had at guide camp?’

  ‘Yes, the night under the stars was brill, but Amy… I was a child. It was exciting, staying up late all night – whereas these days getting a good shut-eye is one of my priorities.’

  ‘But a luxury getaway… you’d have spent this holiday studying how the hotel was being run. I wanted you to forget work for once. After all these years…’

  Yes. That too. After all these years of working my guts out, for once I wanted to be the one people waited on. A sob rose in my throat. I was bone tired. The last decade had worn me out. Shift work. Worrying about Amy as if she were my own child. Taking on responsibilities at eighteen that some people didn’t shoulder until they were into their late twenties or thirties – and me without the support of a family or partner.

  I swiped away a fly. More than anything I hated seeing Amy upset. Her current expression reminded me of every time Dad put her down. Like when he told her short hair made her look like a boy. Over the years he’d been equally critical of me, but for some reason I remembered the times he’d hurt Amy more vividly.

  ‘For anyone else this would be an amazing trip,’ I said and couldn’t help raising my voice. ‘But I knew I should have got more involved and checked the details.’

  ‘Don’t speak to me as if I’m a child.’ She turned away.

  ‘And almost five thousand pounds? For the two of us to stay here? Rick must be having a laugh. It’s criminal, charging that much. Everyone here is a right mug for paying that amount.’

  ‘Does that include me?’ she asked in a tight voice and span around.

  ‘I didn’t mean…’ I sighed. ‘But you’ve got to admit – it’s a ridiculous price for living in huts.’

  ‘I’ve
done my research. Our food and board is covered. Admin costs. And Rick explained his mission when I emailed him a couple of times about details. This conservation project is about preserving the wildlife that was under threat before the hurricane hit, as well as re-building a habitable environment for those creatures whose lives were devastated by the storm. Then there are ongoing veterinary bills and specialist animal food. And he’s done what he can to create employment for locals who lost their businesses when Hurricane Irma hit. So yes, it’s thousands of pounds – but I checked beforehand to make sure that every penny of it was being well spent. Any profits are ploughed straight back into—’

  ‘But his family are loaded,’ I said. ‘Why can’t he dip into the business to support his scheme?’

  A muscle flinched in her cheek. ‘You don’t trust me to have spent my winnings wisely, do you?’

  ‘Perhaps we should discuss some house – or rather shack – rules, guys,’ called Helga, interrupting.

  ‘Go on, back in,’ I said to Amy and shook my head. ‘I need a few minutes – some fresh air.’

  She paced up and down. ‘What, to get over the fact that your younger sister always messes up unless you’re hovering over her? Even though she is twenty-three,’ she snapped.

  I stepped back, shocked. ‘No, of course not.’

  Amy stood still, chin held high. ‘Is it always going to be like this, Sarah?’

  ‘It’s just… I guess I… because of Dad… the way he was… I just want to make sure—’

  ‘Are we never going to be able to leave him and our childhood behind? I love you, Sarah. So much. You know that. You’ve been brilliant bringing me up when Dad and Anabelle were doing such a crap job. It’s more than anyone should expect from an older sibling. But I’m grown up now.’ An exasperated tone cut through the humid air and her speech sped up. ‘If you were my mother, I’d have politely told you to butt out a long time ago. And that’s normal. Gaining independence, isn’t that parenting’s ultimate goal? Instead you still change my sheets even though I tell you I will. I’ve offered countless times to help you run the practical side of our flat, in terms of being the one to make sure the gas and electric bills, the insurance, mortgage and council tax are being paid every month – but you steadfastly refuse. When I wanted my last boyfriend to stay over for the night I gave up, you made so many excuses.’