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Pieces of My Life

Page 38

by Rachel Dann


  Firstly, the Galápagos Islands. As soon as I agreed to come to Ecuador it was one of the places I yearned to visit, the first exotic location to be added to my wish list. But now, I’m going to do it my way – no pre-booked, all-inclusive cruises or luxury tours. Just a return flight from here, Santa Cruz, the most populated of the islands with the liveliest nightlife and tourist scene. I might spend a few days here before heading to Isabela, the largest island, famous for its snorkelling tours and wide open spaces of volcanic moonscape, perfect for long walks. From what I’ve been reading, all the main islands are easily connected by short motorboat trips, meaning the two-week period stretching out before me can be spent exploring each island at my leisure.

  After the Galápagos, I’m catching a flight straight to Cusco in Peru to begin a four-day Inca trail hike, ending at the magnificent ruins of Machu Picchu. The next stop will be Lima, the capital, where I’ve already made contact with a national charity providing refuge for women who are victims of domestic violence, offering accommodation to volunteers in return for daily English classes to their clients. Even now, a dart of nerves shoots through me at the thought of standing up and trying to teach my language to a room full of women I’ve never met. But then I remember visiting the prison, and all I’ve achieved since, and ultimately Naomi’s memory spurs me on to go ahead with it. I’ve committed to at least three weeks there.

  Finally, I will catch a flight to Canaima in Venezuela, to visit its much longed-for national park and finish up with a tour of the devastatingly beautiful Angel Falls.

  From the peace and quiet of my room at Casa Hamaca I had carefully checked back through my travel folder, put together so many weeks ago and untouched ever since… I began looking up each place in turn and making the necessary bookings, one by one, slowly resurrecting the feelings of hope and anticipation I had felt when I began my long journey. Then, once everything was finally in place and booked, with an even greater feeling of triumph I took my travel folder downstairs to the industrial-sized wastebin outside the bar, and threw it away.

  Stepping out of the airport doors, I follow the other tourists to the ferry boarding point, ready to cross the short stretch of turquoise water to the main island. I can’t help but marvel at my surroundings – the path leading from the airport is lined with soft, white sand, and lush reeds sway in the breeze where it joins the water. Birds of different colours and sizes circle overhead and swoop down into the ocean right in front of us, plucking shiny silver fish from the water before launching effortlessly back up into the clear blue sky. To my delight and amazement, a fat sea lion is lolling on the path right by the water’s edge, just feet away from the ferry, watching with interest as we all line up to board.

  Completely mesmerised, I hand my suitcase to a member of ferry staff to be loaded into the hold without even taking my eyes off the animal, then I crouch in the sand to take its photo.

  As the camera clicks, I hear someone behind me call my name.

  Recognising the voice, but not daring to believe my ears, I very slowly straighten up to a standing position. I tuck the camera carefully back in my rucksack but don’t turn around, hardly even daring to breathe.

  ‘Kirsty!’

  There it is again, unmistakable. My heart starts to pound.

  I notice a few of the other passengers in line turn to look at me, wondering if I’ve heard. Then slowly, disbelievingly, I turn around.

  Standing a short distance away from the rest of the passengers, wearing a white T-shirt, a pair of luridly bright Bermuda shorts, and a huge smile… is Sebastian.

  The world spins slightly before my eyes as my consciousness catches up with what I am seeing. I stumble over to him and reach out to touch his arm, convincing myself that he is not a vision dreamed up by the yearnings of my imagination, but just as real and solid and alive as the sea lion that is still watching us from the shore.

  ‘Hi,’ he beams down at me.

  ‘Hi…’ I reply stupidly, still not really understanding, a part of me wondering whether he is here because of work or a consular emergency or by sheer coincidence, or…

  ‘I came to see you.’ He answers all my questions at once, reaching out to take both my hands in his.

  ‘But… how did you know where to find me?’ I’m vaguely aware I haven’t smiled yet, and I think my mouth is hanging open in shock still, and out of the corner of my eye I can see several of my fellow passengers breaking away from the queue to stand and stare openly at us. But I don’t care. All I am aware of is the firmness of his hand in mine, the green of his eyes as I finally look up to meet his gaze.

  Sebastian grins again. ‘I work for the embassy, remember? We have cameras everywhere, and I’ve actually got a special alert on your passport so that an alarm sounds in my office whenever you…’ He trails off, the smile slowly fading from his face as he takes in the shell-shocked expression on mine.

  ‘Okay. Honestly? Your father told me.’

  ‘Whaaaaat?’

  ‘Yes… he sent me an email, once he got home, to say thanks for everything. At this point, I hadn’t had an email from you for a while. I knew you were going to be travelling for a few months, of course, so I… er… took the liberty of asking him if he knew where you were going to be spending New Year’s Eve.’

  There is a long silence, in which time I send out silent, exasperated wishes of gratitude and vengeance to my absent, infuriating father.

  ‘He didn’t reply for ages – weeks. I was going crazy. I came this close to actually putting an alert out on your passport…’ Sebastian tries to laugh, but it doesn’t go very well, so he just looks down and clears his throat. ‘Then he finally replied, apologising for the delay, saying he’d met someone really amazing and they’d been away on some sort of mini-cruise, Scandinavia I think…’

  Oh, for God’s sake.

  ‘He told me you were coming to the Galápagos this week, so… well… I booked a flight. The flight right before yours, it would seem. I’ve been standing here for several hours now, looking like a…’ He clears his throat. ‘I think the ferry guys are starting to think I’m a bit dodgy.’ Alarm suddenly passes across his face. ‘But, Kirsty, if you want me to go…’

  His uncertainty is adorable. I realise I’m edging nearer to him, without even intending to, and now we’re standing so close I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

  ‘So… you’re officially skiving from government service, right now?’ I ask, finding a smile creeping on to my lips. ‘To come and look for me here?’

  Sebastian looks down at the sand, his ebony hair tousling in the sea breeze. ‘Actually… there´s something you should know. I’m not going to be working at the embassy much longer.’

  I freeze, loosening my grip on his hand. After Harry, I’m not sure I can handle another mid-life crisis situation. ‘You… why?’

  He takes a deep breath and looks at me for a moment, clearly unsure whether to tell me something.

  ‘Because… I’m going to start a Master’s course. In London. I’ve got an unconditional place at London Metropolitan University to study International Human Rights, starting in September.’

  There’s a long, euphoric silence as the meaning and implications of this sink in. He’s going there to live! In London! I suddenly feel the urge to kick my sandals off and go running across the beach and splashing in the sea, whooping like a child.

  Then a sudden thought brings my mind skidding to a halt.

  ‘What about Lewis?’

  Sebastian looks a little surprised by my question, but then his face breaks into a smile.

  ‘Well, I suppose I’m going to have to find a place in London that’s pet-friendly.’

  My shoulders sag in relief.

  ‘You didn’t think I’d leave him behind, did you? I know it’s a long way to take a dog, but he’s already a seasoned traveller, and I don’t think we could bear to be without each other…’

  Something in Sebastian’s vo
ice changes, and his expression becomes serious. ‘Listen, Kirsty - the truth is, you inspired me. The way you just picked yourself up again, started taking positive action to move your life forward… I realised it was high time I did the same. What I’ve always wanted to do. Also, knowing you would be there…’ He stops, the uncertainty returning to his face. ‘But I don’t mean to get ahead of myself. What I really came here to ask you, above all, is… whether you would like a date for New Year’s Eve.’

  Suddenly I can’t bear his tortured expression any more, and by way of answer I stand up on tiptoes and kiss him.

  I don’t know how long we stand there, entwined, but I gradually become aware of the seaside noises coming back into focus around us… the gentle roll of the waves, the delighted shouts of children splashing at the water’s edge, the ferry attendant calling to us impatiently to get on board right now or come and take back our suitcases.

  ‘Oops, we’d better get going.’ Sebastian smiles, taking my hand again.

  My heart surging, I pick up my backpack from the sand and step towards the boat.

  If you loved Pieces of My Life, why not take a look at these wonderful stories from our other HQ Digital authors…

  Copyright

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017

  Copyright © Rachel Dann 2017

  Rachel Dann asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  E-book Edition © May 2017 ISBN: 978-0-00-819697-4

 

 

 


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