The Girl from Lace Island

by Joanna Rees

  It would be pretty unfair to get chastised for going on a date with Blaise when nothing had happened. Well, not exactly nothing. There’d been a connection. A big one. Of that Jess was sure. But nothing physical had happened, despite the romantic sunset and the candlelit dinner he’d treated her to at his favourite Miami Beach restaurant. It had been nearly two in the morning when he’d dropped her back at the hotel, kissing her gently on the cheek, thanking her for a lovely day and saying he’d see her around.

  Jess kept on going round and round the date in her head. In this sweaty, cramped office in London, she thought back now to the sunset, to the dolphins they’d seen and realized how impossibly romantic it had all been. He’d made her feel amazing, and it hadn’t been all one-sided. She’d been able to tell he was torn. That he’d wanted to kiss her, but that he had held back.

  She hadn’t realized that he would prove to be such a gentleman. And it was that, more than anything else, that had captured her imagination and kept her awake all that night in Miami, mooning around to herself like one of the Disney princesses just down the road.

  Even though it had been a one-time dream date, Jess knew that she should really stop obsessing about him. That life she’d glimpsed – the fast motorbike, the glamour of Miami Beach, the luxury yacht, the money – it wasn’t hers. She didn’t belong in that world.

  And Blaise must know that. Because it wasn’t as if he was going to call her. If he had been going to, he would have by now.

  But he’s been busy, Jess’s dreamy self protested. It will happen. It was fate. You were destined to meet him.

  She sighed heavily, furious with herself for this schizophrenic mind chat that had plagued her ever since she’d first clapped eyes on Blaise.

  The truth was glaringly obvious: Blaise had been filling in time with her. If he wanted a girlfriend (and if he did want one, he probably already had one installed in a fabulous apartment somewhere), then it was highly unlikely that he’d ever fall for anyone like Jess. In all likelihood, he probably hadn’t thought about her once since their date.

  She jumped as the door opened and the human resources manager, Stephen Pikeman, walked in. She’d seen his profile on the airline’s website, but she was not prepared for how tall he was in the flesh. He had a brown fringe, which he smoothed down with his palm.

  ‘Don’t get up,’ he said, stooping to get round the desk. He had a sort of no-nonsense directness that made Jess nervous. Was this a chat about how she was getting on, now she was a few months into her job, or was she in trouble? It was hard to tell, but she suspected the latter. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late. It’s hectic here today.’

  She watched as Mr Pikeman sat down with a sigh on his leather seat, which hissed beneath him. She felt her palms sweating as he rattled a few keys on his keyboard and his computer screen sprang into life.

  ‘Phew, it’s hot today, right?’ he muttered. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘Well, well, well. It seems that someone has put in a good word.’ He fixed her with a searching stare. ‘To tell you the truth, you usually have to have a lot more flying hours to be up for a promotion like this, but I have to follow orders from the top. So . . .’ He smiled at her. ‘I guess congratulations are in order.’

  Jess shook her head, confused.

  ‘Well, you can be happy,’ he urged. ‘You must have broken the record. There’s a lot of crew who’ll have their nose put out of joint about this, but if you’re up to the job, then good for you.’

  ‘I’m sorry . . . I’m not sure I understand.’

  ‘You’ve been bumped up,’ Mr Pikeman said, as if Jess were particularly dense. ‘Unusual, yes, but not unheard of. You’ll need to sign a new contract,’ he added, sliding paperwork across the desk towards Jess. ‘You can choose where you work. First class included.’

  Numbly she took the papers, seeing her name at the top of the contract. How had this happened? Why had she suddenly been promoted?

  I’d like to see if I can make any of your dreams come true.

  Blaise.

  She stared at the piece of paper in front of her, her heart pounding. This promotion meant she was in a different pay bracket. There wouldn’t be that much more, but if she budgeted right, there’d certainly be a little left over each month. Money that she could save and put towards a deposit on her own flat. Money that would mean she’d never have to feel poor again. She picked up the pen, staring at the place where she was to sign her name, but she hesitated, guilt pulsing through her.

  She didn’t deserve this. Mr Pikeman knew it as clearly as she did.

  ‘It appears you’re starting right away,’ Mr Pikeman said. He turned his attention to the screen and opened a complicated spreadsheet. ‘Your rota is different. You’re going to New York tomorrow.’

  ‘New York?’

  ‘Yep. The Big Apple. It’s one of the best routes. Looks like you’ve lucked out.’

  Jess was still jittery with nerves when she arrived for work the next day. As she met her colleagues in the flight briefing room, she felt sure they’d see through her straight away, but everyone was super-friendly. Even when she chose to work in first class. What the hell, she thought. She might as well.

  ‘I’m Mac, the captain,’ a good-looking guy in captain’s uniform said, shaking her hand, as they walked out towards the terminal. ‘Good to have you aboard, Jess. It should be a pleasant run to New York. Sue will look after you.’

  Jess smiled at Sue, her other cabin-crew colleague. She was probably close to thirty, Jess thought, glad that she was flying with someone experienced.

  ‘The New York run is always fun. We had Jay-Z last week. He was a riot.’

  ‘I’ve never been . . . I mean . . . I just got promoted,’ Jess gushed, instantly regretting it.

  ‘Lucky you,’ Sue said with a friendly smile. ‘Congratulations.’

  She didn’t know, Jess thought. Whatever back-stabbing she was expecting wasn’t going to happen today. She just had to go along with it, she cautioned herself, and pretend everything was normal. She could do it. Couldn’t she?

  When they arrived on the plane, Jess checked her phone one last time. She’d tried phoning Blaise several times yesterday, but his phone kept going straight to his voicemail and she wondered if he was deliberately avoiding her. When she left a message, she had almost told him what had happened, but at the last moment, she’d stopped herself. If Blaise was responsible for her sudden promotion, then she’d have to hear it from him himself. And then what? she wondered. She couldn’t exactly get angry at him. Not when she’d had no choice but to accept the promotion. She hadn’t had the nerve – or the proof – to tell Stephen Pikeman about her conversation with Blaise.

  And maybe, just maybe, someone at the airline had put in a good word for her. Perhaps it hadn’t been Blaise but a grateful customer. Stranger things had happened. But even as she told herself that, she knew it wasn’t true. Blaise had interfered with her fate and now she had no idea what to do with that knowledge. Because nobody had ever given her a bump-up before. And it felt . . . it felt weird. Like she didn’t deserve it. If she’d felt like an imposter when she’d first started, she felt even more like one now.

  What if Sue and the captain and Leanne, her other colleague, realized that she had been promoted unfairly? That she didn’t deserve this? That she wasn’t good enough?

  No. She could do it, she told herself. She’d have to bluff this out. Do the best job she possibly could. It didn’t matter how she’d got here, only that she was here. She was just going to have to try her hardest and be as professional as possible. No slip-ups. No mistakes.

  She tried to put Blaise out of her mind as she and Sue greeted the passengers on board. Everyone was so friendly and happy, and Jess wanted to pinch herself when she noticed two famous actors were sitting on her side of the plane. She wanted to jump up and down and point, but she stayed calm and professional, as if this happened every day.

  ‘There’s a gentleman in seat five asking for you,’ Leanne said, a
s they met in the galley to get more champagne.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes. He asked for you specifically. I’d get in there if I were you. He’s, like, seriously hot.’ Leanne gave her a meaningful look.

  Jess laughed, walking down the aisle to seat five. The guy in it was leaning down getting something from his bag.

  ‘Can I help you with that, sir?’ Jess asked. ‘I could stow that for—’

  ‘No, it’s fine.’

  Jess gasped as Blaise straightened up, sitting upright in his seat.

  ‘Blaise. Oh my God. What are you doing here?’

  He grinned at her. ‘I got your message. I thought I might accompany you to New York.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lace Island, 1990

  Leila pushed her bike up the hill, the basket laden with peppercorn plants she was taking to Maliba from Anjum’s kitchen garden. She’d offered to go for him, knowing that it would give her an excuse for her meeting with Rasa. They’d agreed to meet at lunchtime by the lighthouse, and she hoped that once they were alone, he would tell her what he knew about Shang.

  She smiled to herself, wondering if the dress she’d chosen was too much for such a casual meeting. She’d had Parva oil and braid her hair late last night too, and she smoothed it now, hoping it looked as nice as it had done in the mirror earlier.

  In all likelihood, Rasa wouldn’t even notice the effort she’d made, but Leila hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what he’d said on the boat. It was just the way he’d said it, the way he’d told her she was more beautiful than Monique. It had filled her up with sunshine. Was it possible that he meant it? That he liked her too, the way she liked him? Not that she’d ever really admitted it to herself before, but she’d stopped thinking of Rasa as her best friend and he’d become something . . . well, more. Something confusing, indefinable. Something that she couldn’t ignore.

  Now, as she approached the familiar path through the trees up to the lighthouse, she noticed deep ruts in the hard mud, and as she went further, the track widened into a road. She’d thought it would be a deserted track, but someone must have been up here in a truck. Maybe they’d been fixing the light.

  Chan had kept the light maintained over the years, but he was always complaining about how temperamental it was. And there was one thing you didn’t want, he always quipped – a temperamental lighthouse.

  Like Bibi, Leila wondered why they kept the lighthouse going at all, when it used precious electricity. The boats that came from the mainland usually passed in the day, the shipping routes ran far to the north to avoid the coral reef, and there were never any boats in the seas around Lace Island at night.

  Even so, Leila had always liked the lighthouse and had found something romantic in its searching beam. It felt comforting. As if the light was not only warning people at sea but alerting them to their presence on Lace Island. We’re here, the light seemed to say.

  When she was a kid, she and Rasa had come here with Chan, who sometimes let them go up to inspect the light. The view from the top was incredible, and Leila and Rasa had fantasized about building a camp up there and sleeping out under the stars, but Chan had always forbidden it, worried that she’d topple off in the night. She wondered if she and Rasa would climb up there today. She wondered if he wanted to be alone with her as much as she longed to spend time with him. Just the two of them.

  Now, Leila stopped, suddenly aware of voices and of the noise of engines further along the track. She got off her bike, leant it against the tree and set off between the tall palms to investigate.

  At the top of the hill, there was a black-and-yellow tuk-tuk – the same one that had run her off the road – as well as a large truck with crates in the back. Men were unloading the heavy crates into the lighthouse through the open door. She heard their gruff voices and crept nearer.

  She looked behind her. The path through the forest was a dense green. Where was Rasa? Did he know about this? That all this was going on, here in secret, in the trees?

  Shang was there. She heard his commanding voice and the men talking back, but she couldn’t work out what they were saying. Careful not to be seen, she pressed herself against the smooth bark of the tree. Then she stared round once more. One of the guys walked round the truck and Leila saw that he had a black gun slung over his shoulder.

  She ducked out of sight, her heart racing with fear. Why was there a man with a gun? This was Lace Island, she reminded herself, trying to calm down. Bad things didn’t happen here, and yet her knees started trembling. Those men . . . Shang in particular, were terrifying. What were they unloading?

  She could front it out – push her bike past and just wave a hand in greeting as if nothing was happening, but her instinct told her that was the wrong thing to do. She didn’t want Shang to see her, or risk being discovered spying. Most importantly, she should warn Rasa.

  Quickly, she set off back the way she’d come, ditching her bike in the undergrowth away from the path. She’d take a shortcut and go down the steep part of the hill towards the guest bungalows and onto the beach, and hopefully intercept Rasa on the way.

  She scrambled down the steep slope, the weeds clinging to her ankles, her mind racing. Rasa would know what to do, when she found him. He might be angry about what she’d found, though. After all, she had made a promise to keep away from Shang, but she couldn’t help it that she’d come across him by accident.

  What on earth was going on? Because whatever it was, Leila was fairly sure Bibi had no idea about it.

  She looked around her desperately. What if she missed Rasa? What if he was coming the other way, from the village? No. No, he would be coming from the beach, she was sure of it. If she was quick, she’d find him.

  But her plan to get to the beach this way wasn’t as easy as she thought. Soon the forest floor was a tangle of mangroves she kept tripping on. She told herself not to worry about snakes and spiders as she trod through them, but the further she went, the more her legs got stung and scratched. It was too late to turn back, though. If she didn’t get to the beach soon, she’d miss Rasa. She couldn’t bear for him to get to the lighthouse and think she hadn’t turned up. Or worse, arrive and get into trouble with that guy Shang. Rasa was absolutely the kind of person to demand to know what they were doing.

  She slapped her arm where a bug had bitten her, annoyed that her dress was stained and her hair was now a sweaty mess. So much for looking her best for Rasa, she thought, as she fought through a spider’s web, pulling it away from her face. It felt as if the undergrowth was trying to swallow her whole.

  At last the sea came into view and the tops of the guest bungalows. If she could just make it past them and onto the beach, she’d be in the clear. If Rasa was still by the boat, maybe she could persuade him to take her out to the reef. All she wanted now was to be under water, in that blissful coral world, just with Rasa. That would blot everything out for a while. And when they surfaced, everything would be better. She was sure of it.

  She eased down the very steep part of the path, feeling herself sliding the last bit of the way, suddenly out of control. Frantically, she slipped, flailing her arms, stopping her fall by clinging to the branch of a palm tree. She gasped, her heart pounding, realizing how close she’d come to falling directly down towards the beach, twenty or more feet. She could have easily broken something, and now she circled her ankle, feeling how sore it was.

  Below her, she could see one of the guest bungalows with its private pool behind. She would have to climb back up the branch of the palm tree and then somehow find a pathway down. She looked along the line of trees, wondering how the hell she was going to extricate herself and find a way to safety.

  And then she saw the door of the bungalow below her open and two people come onto the terrace, kissing. Leila gasped when she saw it was Adam and Monique. She heard them talking and then Monique laughing.

  Leila froze. If she made a sound, they’d only have to look up and they’d see her hang
ing right above them.

  Marc, the captain, had been gone a few days, but he would be back, and what would happen then? If Monique was having an affair with Adam, would she call things off with him? Did she prefer Adam now, or was she being unfaithful behind the captain’s back just for the thrill of it? How could she be so brazen? Or so cruel?

  Leila couldn’t fathom the games grown-ups played with each other, or what it was that Monique saw in Adam exactly. She tried not to look at them as they came out further onto the terrace, until they were right next to the Bali bed directly beneath her.

  Leila could hardly breathe. The only thing she could do for the moment was to stay very still.

  In a second Monique had whipped off the sheet tied round Adam’s waist and Leila swallowed hard, shock making her flush all over. She’d never seen a naked man before. The size of his erect penis against his taut stomach was truly shocking.

  But Monique wasn’t shocked. She looked like she was very used to Adam being naked. Leila saw her reaching down to hold him in her hand, and then she kissed him deeply, her other hand clawing through his hair.

  Leila watched, transfixed, as Adam, still kissing Monique, untied her bikini top and threw it to the floor. Leila felt her foot slipping and looked down, wincing. Gingerly, she moved her foot back, seeing her shin was scraped and bleeding where she’d fallen against the tree. She took a sharp intake of breath at the stinging, but Adam and Monique were far too involved with each other to notice.

  She closed her eyes, willing herself not to look, but she couldn’t help it. The gasps of desire felt like they were right in her ear as Monique and Adam kissed.

  Monique, totally naked now, was sliding back on the soft cushion of the bed, right below Leila, who had a bird’s-eye view through the threadbare rattan canopy.

  Monique’s breasts were large with dusky nipples, and her stomach was flat and soft. Leila held her breath as Monique parted her legs and she clearly saw the dark pubic hair between them. She was looking at Adam through half-closed eyes, like he should love what he was seeing. And he clearly did.