Amy and I looked at each other as a harmonica cheerfully played. ‘I’m sure Jonas doesn’t fancy me either,’ she whispered. ‘I’d have picked up a vibe by now. He’s more likely to fancy you in that stunning bikini.’
I grinned. Despite feeling like the odd one out, my new bikini was comfortable and it had felt surprisingly liberating not to have a full-length mirror to scrutinise myself in.
‘Come on. Let’s stop worrying about the men,’ she said. ‘Us women need to get ready.’
I grabbed my makeup bag. ‘Here’s to finding the old Sarah and shopping and dance bars and…’
Amy grinned and passed me her hairbrush, not even chiding me for ringing home to once again check on Nelly.
19
Rick stood on the helm of the fishing boat, white shirt flapping in the breeze as we left Seagrass Island. The first few buttons were undone revealing a tanned chest. I tried not to look at the fitted linen trousers. Malik had insisted on steering us across to Tortola.
‘Go, enjoy yourself, have a few cocktails,’ Malik had said to Rick over lunch. ‘You never take a break. My lovely Zina finishes work at the beauty salon at seven. I can cook dinner for her as a surprise. It suits me perfectly. We’ve missed seeing each other for a couple of weeks as she’s been putting in so many hours lately, training to be a masseuse and Reiki healer as well.’
I breathed in the salty air. Rick clapped his hands. ‘Right everyone… a bit of information about your new home. There are four main British Virgin Islands and fifty smaller ones, thirty-five of which are still uninhabited. Road Town is the capital of all of them, on Tortola where we are going today. The collective population of all the islands is around thirty thousand with twelve thousand of those people living in Road Town itself. Eighty-five per cent of inhabitants are African or of African descent and…’
I gazed across the ocean. Never had I felt such joy at slipping into a pretty skirt and top, and strappy sandals. I felt like me again. Jonas had let out the longest wolf-whistle which was met with a frown from Benedikt.
I knew what Amy would say but surely I wasn’t that out of practice at reading the opposite sex? There was no way Benedikt liked me. It was more likely that he saw Jonas as some sort of player who enjoyed flirting and had Amy on his radar next.
‘… Hurricane Irma did a lot of damage to Tortola,’ said Rick, ‘destroying houses, yachts and cars. It looked barren and brown afterwards because the hurricane stripped the trees of their leaves. But as you can see, the lush tropical green landscape is back. In the first year alone after the devastation much of Road Town was rebuilt. There is still work to do but it’s an up and running tourist centre once again and—’
A woman with black pigtails squealed and pointed to the left-hand side of the boat. Helga caught my eye and jabbed her finger at the ocean, grinning.
Oh my word.
A group of dolphins had decided to join us.
Everyone took out their phones, Benedikt pushing to the front with his. I didn’t want to lose this moment worrying about how to take the best shot. I stood on tiptoe and admired the strong, curved forms that cut through the air in a perfect semi-circle, before diving, smiles first, back into the whipped cream white crests of water. One after the other the dolphins flew through the air, cleanly rising upwards before seamlessly entering the water again.
They followed the boat as if seeking out company. What had I done to deserve such a precious moment? Tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t help it.
Rick watched as I wiped my face, as if he’d never seen a person cry before.
Despite the tough start to this experience I stared at the dolphins. The sun, and waves sparkling underneath its rays. The lushness of Tortola in the distance. What a contrast to the grey of London and its urban outlook. I’d almost forgotten what a tonic it was to breathe in air flavoured by fresh brine and not car fumes… To be able to look into a never-ending horizon instead of a finite computer screen and feel a breeze lift my hair that was normally sprayed rigid.
‘Why do they jump out of the water?’ asked Jonas, slipping his arm around my shoulder.
Rick put a hand above his eyes to stop squinting. ‘No one knows for sure. Some think it’s to get rid of parasites – or just because they are happy. It might be to spot other pods. You’re lucky today. Some volunteers never get to see these guys.’
‘That’s an amazing photo, Benedikt,’ I said, looking at his phone. ‘You’ve captured that jump just at the right moment.’
‘Thanks,’ he said in a flat tone.
If only Amy had heard. She’d realise I was the last person he was out to impress. But I wasn’t going to let anything like that ruin my day. The dolphins moved on and I stared at rich green trailing clumps of seaweed happily bobbing past, like the discarded wigs of mermaids. Amy and Benedikt had the rest of the boat in tears of laughter with their exaggerated rendition of ‘Under the Sea’. I went over to Rick.
‘Thanks for the travel sickness tablet.’
‘No problem. It should last eight hours so will just cover you tonight. Malik will sail us back around midnight.’
‘Are you going shopping?’
‘No. But I’ll take you all to the retail area and point out the most reasonable stores. Some are a bit pricey. Malik and I will then visit his brother. It’s always fascinating listening to him talk about his latest research or marine conservation project. Afterwards Malik will see his wife, Zina. I’ll spend the evening with all of you. What are you hoping to find? A fashion boutique? Shoe shop?’
‘A branch of Crocker & Crowley?’ I asked.
His face fell. ‘No… there was a plan for that but we had to shelve it.’ Rick cleared his throat. ‘There’s a chemist that’s great for makeup, I believe, and—’
I held up my hand. ‘Functional clothes. Extra supplies of insect repellent. These are my new staples.’
He laughed. I cleared my throat and stepped back, feeling unnerved at our new camaraderie.
‘I think you are going to fit in just fine,’ he said. ‘I have to be honest – I didn’t think you’d last longer than a day, after you swore that you’d stay… but I’ve learnt that you can’t judge a person by their hat, even if it’s one more suited to Breakfast at Tiffany’s than back-breaking work in a rainforest.’
I smiled and looked at my phone, a text from back home having come through. Perhaps we had misjudged each other. However, I still had reservations. The physical pull felt exciting but unnerved me as well.
I read the text and frowned.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked.
‘Oh, it’s nothing, just from work,’ I said vaguely, wishing again that I could be more open about losing my job. Lynn from housekeeping had messaged saying she and the team were really upset about my dismissal and wanted to meet me for a goodbye drink when I got back.
I used the shopping trip to find souvenirs to buy them. Lynn was an avid fridge magnet collector and I found some lovely shell necklaces. We walked near the harbour and then visited the main street in Road Town. Before leaving us, Rick talked more about the construction work still underway. An Australian tourist who visited the British Virgin Islands regularly said several of his favourite specialised stores had been destroyed. Most of the ones now, in the form of colourful wooden huts, sold generic products and not all of them had been made locally.
But who could blame the vendors? Rick had mentioned that over eighty-five per cent of the houses on Tortola had been damaged or destroyed. Personally, I was thrilled with the choice of wares displayed outside shops on hooks and rails and in stacks, including straw hats and colourful sarongs, Caribbean dolls and the spices and jams Tortola was known for, pottery and art. It was still several weeks until I went home but who knew when I’d come shopping again. After a full week’s volunteering I might want to do nothing but chill on the beach next Saturday. So I relished the sound of customers bartering, of clothes’ hangers banging together and bag and purse zips undoing.
I
bought pairs of cool linen trousers, along with cotton shirts, and found a chemist to stock up with plasters and creams.
Jonas shoved his sunglasses into his pocket and took out his harmonica. Appropriately he played the Pina Colada song, as we headed to get a drink, several of us singing along about making love at midnight and singing in the rain. Eventually he ground to a halt as he shut his eyes and lost himself in the tune. Passers-by paused to listen. His body swayed. I marvelled at the different dynamics Jonas put in and the intensity of the playing.
Even Benedikt stopped to stare. His body rocked in time too. Amy held onto his arm but he hardly seemed to notice. But then he was a piano player. He must have missed music just like Jonas. A crowd formed and clapped, calling for more. Jonas blushed deeply, thanked everyone, put his sunglasses back on and continued walking.
Near the harbour we met Rick at a bar named Papaya Sunrise. He was waiting in the corner at a large table with several seats.
He took my breath away. His striking face. The solid frame. The humour that twitched across his mouth.
A stern-looking terrier sat on one of the seats. Six p.m. Saturday night and the place was already filled. Like Rick’s family’s house there were no windows, just shutters to pull down at night. Tables outside were filled with locals and tourists. Calypso music wafted across the room as if its notes were dancing with the air’s atoms. Rum cocktails awaited us, dressed up with paper umbrellas and chunks of fruit.
‘I know Maia, the manager of this place,’ said Rick, beaming. ‘We go a long way back. When we were little I used to throw spiders in her face. Amazingly she’s still talking to me and asked her boss, Sultan, to save this table for us. We ought to thank him, really.’
We looked around for a man in charge and Rick started laughing. He whistled and the terrier jumped off its seat and disappeared under the table. Rick bent down and emerged with the dog in his arms, licking his face.
‘Sultan is very eager to please and excellent at guarding seats, as long as you order a lot of cocktails.’
We all grinned. Amy tickled Sultan’s ears.
He put the dog back onto the floor and indicated to the chairs. ‘I imagine you feel like sitting down after shopping.’
With relief I collapsed into a chair next to Rick and put down my bags. Carlotta looked disappointed – even more so when someone else sat the other side of him. It was rare for her to look anything but jovial. Amy sat next to me. Benedikt and Jonas were opposite. Jackie and Helga had stayed behind as part of the team that would do the evening animal feeds.
Rick had unbuttoned his white shirt further. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it.
Handsome sounded like an old-fashioned word these days. But Rick was kind of old-school attractive and despite the spiky slightly reckless hair he could have easily passed for a dapper Fifties hero like a racing driver or military officer, what with his broad shoulders and strong arms… with the humour he exuded and sensitivity he almost managed to conceal, and a secret story I could sense lurking in his shadow…
All these ingredients made up the kind of man I knew would bring nothing but heartache. The fact I was waxing lyrical about him was a bad sign. Therefore I held my gaze strictly above those undone buttons and took a large swig of the fruity cocktail – in the process almost poking my eye out with the umbrella. Rick grinned and removed it once I’d put the glass back down onto the scratched mahogany table.
‘You all right?’ he asked. ‘I’ve heard of vodka eyeballing but fruit juice might really mess with your sight. ’He passed me a paper napkin.
‘How was your chat with Malik’s brother?’
‘Fascinating,’ he said. ‘And sad. Worrying.’ He sighed. ‘Research has shown another effect of global warming on turtles. The sex of their eggs is determined by the incubation temperature – hotter ones produce female hatchlings. Therefore unless turtles start nesting at a cooler time of year, hotter summers will mean the sex ratio will be out and the turtle population will eventually be mostly female.’ Deep lines appeared in his forehead.
I didn’t know what to say, so rested a hand on his arm. He smiled and sparks ran up to my shoulder.
Rick’s phone rang and he looked at the number and answered it. ‘Hi Lee…’
His brother.
‘What? Yes. Look, I told you, it’s all under control. Mum and Dad said what?’ He sighed. ‘We’ve been through all this before. No, I’m not stressed. I just need a little time and… but… hold on…’ He frowned and left the table.
Fifteen minutes he came back, rubbing his forehead.
‘Everything okay?’ I asked as he sat down again.
He nodded and picked up his glass. Slowly the frown disappeared as the calypso music got louder. Everyone ordered more drinks. Darkness fell. Moths fluttered inside the building. Pizzas arrived and we all insisted on paying for Rick’s. Jonas had his beloved spicy sausage on his. Other customers jigged to the music in the middle of the bar, the imaginary dance floor extending outside. Amy grabbed Benedikt’s hand and they got up. I held my arm out to Jonas. He gave a small shrug back and shook his head before staring at his phone.
‘I’ll have to do, then,’ said Rick and took my hand.
Before I knew it we were on our feet. Sweaty bodies surrounded us. The music was now too loud to talk. My face was directly opposite his open shirt. Amy and Benedikt stood beside us laughing loudly as they did the dirtiest dirty dance. My sister lost herself in the music, caring little about whether or not she had an audience. The same could be said for people all around who shook their shoulders and twisted their bodies, stepping from side to side and clapping in time with the music.
Carlotta tried to cut in, with her pole dancer’s figure. But Rick didn’t seem to notice, and down in the mouth she turned her attention to one of the many men happy to replace him.
This boosted my confidence. Perhaps I wasn’t such a bad dancer. My hips began to mirror Rick’s as my confidence grew with the style of dance. Somehow it felt easy to mirror his moves. His shoulders shimmied at me. Mine shimmied too. It felt natural. Instinctive.
I fought the urge, really I did, to wrap my arms around his neck so that we could sway together, up close, our limbs and hearts guiding each other. But it was no good and my arms started to rise in the air…
Until I noticed Jonas. In the corner. Crying into his cocktail.
20
I made my excuses to Rick and headed over to Jonas. I pulled him up and led him outside to one side where a wooden table was covered with empty glasses, under a thatched palm leaf parasol. We sat down opposite each other.
‘Why have you brought me out here?’ asked Jonas and he stared at the harbour in the distance. Moonlight illuminated dappled sea water surrounding silhouettes of yachts and fishing boats, with bats diving to and fro. Nearby bushes smelt of vanilla. Chirps and whistles filled the air. I’d heard them on the turtle trip – Rick told us they came from the endangered coqui frog.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked gently.
‘Nothing.’
‘Jonas – I saw you crying.’
‘You misunderstood. My cocktail, there was a piece of lemon, it was very bitter. That’s all.’
‘It’s me. Sarah. We may have only known each other a few days but in this place it feels like a lifetime. I know that you hate banana. Have a second tattoo your parents don’t know about. That if you ever have kids you’d name a boy Bruce after Springsteen and that you love tea but go mad if anyone puts in the milk before water.’
‘All of that qualifies you to know when I’m upset?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Fair enough.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I didn’t realise I’d been talking about myself so much.’
‘I’m a good listener. So spill.’
He looked puzzled.
‘That means tell me – what’s upset you? Or who? Is there any way I can help?’
I jumped as something furry rubbed against my legs. Sultan’s soulful eyes sta
red upwards, into mine. I picked him up and put him next to me, on the bench.
‘Sultan wants to hear too.’ I tickled him behind his ears. ‘Is it something to do with Amy?’ The dirty dancing she was doing with Benedikt must have piqued his jealousy. Perhaps he was worried she really did fancy his shack mate.
But to cry? Something didn’t add up. It had to be deeper than that. Jonas hadn’t wanted to come to Seagrass Island but must have been made of strong stuff to go along with it.
No, those tears had to be about something really close to his heart.
‘Is there someone you’re missing back home?’ Maybe he was yearning for the Maxi friend he’d mentioned. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted the breakup and was hoping they’d get back together.
Jonas shook his head.
‘You like someone here then, don’t you?’
He met my eyes before groaning and holding his head in his hands, dreadlocks falling forwards across his face. Sultan jumped under the table and bobbed up next to him. He whined. Jonas lifted his head and stroked the dog whose tail immediately wagged.
‘I know you like Amy.’ There. I’d blurted it out. Sometimes that was the best thing. Growing up with Dad had taught me that. As the teen years passed I noted how he’d use his charm to try to pass off insults and mean comments. As my confidence grew, I’d cut through that nonsense and call him out for the bully he was. He didn’t know how to respond to me being blunt.
‘You’re jealous of Benedikt. It must be hard to watch them together – I know they are such good friends, but you’ve no reason to be, you see—’
‘Whoa! What? No.’
‘It’s okay – you don’t need to feel embarrassed.’
His eyes widened. ‘What on earth makes you think I like your sister?’
‘The looks you shoot her and Benedikt when they’re together. It’s obvious – to me anyway. That night, in the Games Room, when they were having fun playing chess you really didn’t look happy. Then you and I did that piggyback race on the beach. As soon as Amy appeared you ran even faster as if trying to impress. I don’t blame you,’ I added hastily. ‘We all do those things when we like someone. But Jonas – you’re a great guy. There are lots of other women here and—’
The Summer Island Swap Page 13
