‘There isn’t.’
‘Well, exactly. So there is nothing to worry about. Right. I’m going to do your other eye . . . Keep your eyes closed.’
‘Lucy! What did you say and to whom?’
‘When I was doing her hair last night, I let it slip to Gina that you and Harrison had known each other in the past. She seemed a bit shocked, to be honest. I backtracked, said maybe I had got it wrong. She agreed that she wouldn’t say anything to Josephine, but . . .’
‘But what?’
‘She said that it put her in a difficult position. I thought that maybe you should have a chat with Harrison, suggest that it might be a good idea if he said something first . . .’
‘Maybe. But, really, there’s nothing to hide. Not on my account anyway.’
At least, not when it comes to Harrison.
The message alert on my phone makes me jump.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Lucy. ‘It’s not . . .?’
Relief floods because it’s Lewis, nothing ominous.
‘It’s nothing bad,’ I say.
Strangely, sometimes silence feels worse than a threat. It leaves me with a horrible sense of an invisible net closing in.
THIRTY
Now
Day Six
Itinerary: Morning guest excursion in port. Staff attendees: Thomas, Lucy, Charlotte. Two yacht crew.
Afternoon: Free time. Optional jet-skiing, kite-surfing, onboard water slides.
Six days to Barbados . . .
San Juan is a new port to me. I never had the opportunity to visit, seeing as in the end, my cruising career wasn’t as long as I’d anticipated. I have brought along an old Guide to the Caribbean for nostalgic reasons. Inside, Sam wrote: With all my love, forever. Sam x. Flicking through it, I noticed that I have highlighted in luminous yellow the El Yunque National Forest, describing lush waterfalls and bamboo groves. Now, I am here.
My rucksack is heavy because Thomas, Lucy and I are carrying the group snacks and spare water. The trails are steep and the humidity, despite the shade from the trees, is almost overwhelming. Even Lucy, usually immaculate, looks hot and bothered. Her bright red top is sticking to her back and her hair is tied back. My trainers don’t have as much grip as I’d assumed. My breath is heavy as we navigate slippery, uneven paths. I intermittently duck to avoid overhanging branches. Rainforest sounds of croaking frogs and chirping birds dominate. A light mist hovers above the trees.
We gather for a break at a fork in the paths. After studying the signs, the group opts for the more difficult route. We begin our descent; it is hard to balance in places due to the mud. Lucy and I cling to each other. A light rain begins to fall without warning. I put my hand out to steady myself as I almost slip on a rock. My hand touches something sticky, like sap. I stop to wash my hands but my right one is turning red, as if stung by a nettle. I pull the small first-aid kit from out of my bag and apply lotion until the stinging subsides. The rain stops as abruptly as it started.
I look up. Lucy has continued ahead. The collective footsteps and voices disappear until I am briefly alone. It is a rare moment of bliss. I snap some photos and videos of my surroundings: snails clinging to the bark of a tree, and a bird – shimmering blue and green peacock colours. I take a large gulp of water before reluctantly following the trail down to catch up with the others.
We are rewarded with breathtaking views of a waterfall, a rushing cascade, its rainbow colours hovering above the mist. Coolness brushes my face as I inhale lush freshness. Below, a rock pool, the perfect swimming hole.
I find a space behind a rock and strip down to my bathing suit. It’s a welcome feeling to shed my clothes and feel cooler. We aren’t alone as a group, several other tourists are swimming and taking pictures beneath the rushing spray of water. They are mostly couples, looking carefree. I feel a pang of regret. I would love to have come here with Sam during the early days of our relationship, sneaking off to find a private, secluded spot in this tropical paradise. Beautiful as the scenery is, it’s lonely being here in my present situation.
Everyone is taking photos, so I ignore the no photos rule. Lewis loves commenting on the pictures I send him. He hasn’t travelled much, and I want to encourage him. My phone camera captures the blue of the water, the white spray, moss-covered rocks and the rich greenery. Members of The Party naturally creep into the images, including one of Harrison and Josephine, their arms around each other, taking couple-selfies. They look very much in love. Who knows, maybe they are. Josephine looks over at me and smiles. I smile back. Thomas glares at me as if to warn me against something, but everyone is taking photos, including himself. It’s impossible not to. Gina and Garth pair up with Harrison and Josephine, and Mariella takes a picture of the four of them with the waterfall in the background.
I step into the water and swim towards the falls. As I stand in front of the cascade, I’m soaked by the refreshing spray. It’s the best moment of the entire trip so far as I feel the tension briefly lift from my neck and shoulders.
‘Gorgeous, isn’t it?’ says Lucy, standing next to me. ‘Shame we’re the food and water carriers and not here on holiday with some gorgeous men!’ She points to a spot on the rocks above us. ‘Imagine having a tree-house just there and enjoying a vista like this every day! Do you fancy a climb up the rocks?’
‘It looks slippery.’
‘We’ll be careful. Come on! Think of the pictures we’ll have to show off with!’
I follow Lucy up after grabbing my rucksack, navigating between the rocks, avoiding the moss-covered ones as we climb. I look behind. Gina and Garth are copying us. We reach a section where the rocks flatten out. I place down my bag and we both sit on the edge of the rockface, feet dangling. Spray brushes my face. The sounds of the jungle are drowned out by the rush of water, which appears louder up here.
‘Excuse me,’ says Gina’s voice. ‘Any chance one of you two could take a photo of us?’
‘Sure,’ says Lucy, easing herself up.
It bugs me that they clearly want to stand in the position where I am sitting, and I obviously have no choice but to move out of the way with good grace.
Garth and Gina put their arms around each other and smile. They kiss and then they make funny faces as they pose while Lucy snaps with their expensive and professional-looking camera.
‘How about taking a picture of you two?’ Garth says afterwards.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I respond automatically.
‘Yes, please,’ says Lucy. ‘Go on, Charlotte. It’ll be fun to have a memento.’
We swap places with Gina and Garth. I remove my sunglasses from the top of my head and put them on properly before smiling, as if I, too, am happy and carefree.
‘Carefully step back a bit,’ instructs Garth.
I look behind me. Although it didn’t feel as if we’d climbed too high up, looking down it appears much higher than I first realised. Lucy steps back.
‘Careful,’ I say to her, taking a small, tentative step back myself.
We both grin for the camera, and Lucy grips my arm. Then, as we both step forward, my feet slide on the rock. I hold on to Lucy to regain my balance until we’re safely away from the edge.
Two women appear behind Gina and Garth.
‘Excuse me,’ says one of them. ‘Weren’t you in that reality show a while back?’
Gina looks embarrassed but agrees to pose for a photo. The two women beam for the camera as Garth snaps the picture, before they head back down the way they climbed up.
‘What reality show?’ Lucy asks.
‘Oh, it was a long time ago,’ Gina says.
Lucy looks disappointed.
Gina and Garth head away from us, along a barely perceptible path hidden beneath the rich green ferns. As we watch them walk away, I see Harrison and Josephine making their way up towards us.
As they approach, I see that my rucksack has fallen to a ledge below.
‘Shit!’ I say. ‘My bag. It’s got everythin
g in it. I’ll have to climb down and get it.’
Still barefoot, I ease my way down the side of the slope, holding on to overhanging ferns and placing my hands on the driest rocks to steady myself. As I reach down to grip my rucksack, I slip, screaming. The sound of rushing water fills my ears as I thump down onto the precipice. I see faces looking up at me surrounded by white bubbles of the stirring water.
Above, I hear Lucy’s voice, then Harrison’s and Josephine’s.
‘God, Charlotte, are you all right?’ they chorus.
My knees sting like they haven’t done since I was a child. Inelegantly, I push myself up into a crawling position, then sit up. I feel shaky. I push myself away from the ledge using my palms and gather my breath. My knees are grazed.
Harrison appears at my side.
‘Are you OK? Can you stand up?’ he says.
‘Yes, I think so. I dropped my bag,’ I add, unnecessarily.
He helps me stand and follows me as I climb back up, handing me my bag when we reach the top.
‘Thank you,’ I say, reassuring the trio that ‘I’m fine. Just hurt pride.’
‘You gave me a fright,’ says Lucy.
As Harrison and Josephine take pictures, I can’t be sure, but it sounds like she says the words attention seeker to him.
I am the opposite of that, but it stings, nonetheless.
At the bottom, I take a short dip to wash my knees.
‘Everyone’s ready to head back,’ says Thomas as I emerge.
I dry myself behind a rock and change back into my sweaty trousers and T-shirt before sitting down and tying up my trainers. By the time I emerge, it appears that I am alone.
‘Hello?’ I call above the rush of the falling water.
No replies.
I head back to the path we climbed down. Still no sign of anyone.
‘Hello?’ I call out again. ‘Lucy? Thomas? Anyone?’
The silence beyond the waterfall is eerie and sinister, no longer beautiful and serene. As I begin to climb, I hear a noise and a rustling behind me. I see Arabella, standing a few feet away, beside a tree. She is staring at me.
‘Arabella?’
She looks back down at her camera. Harrison appears behind her.
‘I didn’t capture it,’ I hear her say.
‘Where is everyone else?’ I ask.
‘They’ve headed up that path over there.’ Harrison points in the opposite direction. ‘We said we would wait for you. Arabella saw this stunning bird. You should have seen the colours.’
‘I missed it,’ she says, sounding gutted. But then she smiles. ‘But I did capture this lizard or chameleon-type creature. Look.’
She lifts her camera screen to show me a perfectly shot image of greens, browns and yellows.
‘Incredible,’ I say.
My heart is still thumping with thoughts of being lost deep in the jungle, hiding from my tormentor with only snakes, spiders and who knows what else for company. We catch up with the others at the top of the slope. There’s more photo-taking and wildlife-spotting before we head to a picnic spot. I hand out mangoes, slices of pineapple and papaya neatly packed into Tupperware, coconut macaroons, crisps and water. By the time we board the 4x4s to return to the harbour, my feet are blistered, my knees are aching and the skin is peeling where I was stung on my hand.
Back on board The Cleobella, I decide to ease the aches in the Jacuzzi. As I approach the hot tub, I’m disappointed to see that someone has beaten me to it. Josephine is sitting with her back to me. My need is greater than hers, employee or not. Her earlier words – attention seeker – still irk.
I hesitate. I should come back later when it is vacant. But I don’t want to. On the side, I spot her watch. I approach her from behind. She doesn’t appear to be able to hear me above the rush of water. I can’t steal it, it would be way too obvious that it is me, but I can give her a sign that I don’t like the way she watches me, hawk-like, as if I’m just dying to steal Harrison from her. No doubt Gina has added a dollop of fuel to the fire, but if Josephine has issues or concerns, she should discuss them with the man in question, not me. I might be many things, but I am not a boyfriend thief.
As I approach, my shadow falls. I hesitate. I feel as if I am stalking her, cat-after-bird-like. Nothing. Her eyes are closed, without a care in the world, which maybe she hasn’t because she isn’t stuck on board a yacht with someone who has threatened her life. I slide her watch into the water and see it drop into the cauldron of white bubbles. I do feel bad that the crew may have the not-fun job of draining the Jacuzzi, but it was too irresistible. Petty, I know.
I unwrap my towel from around myself and step in opposite her. She doesn’t open her eyes as I slide in. I put on my sunglasses and tilt my own head back as though I, too, am soaking away the cares of the world. I have to hold the pose for several minutes, but it’s worth it to observe her expression when she opens her eyes. As she climbs out, I smile.
She wraps a towel around herself, looks on the side for her watch, then climbs back into the Jacuzzi, feeling around. She looks at me.
I remove my sunglasses. ‘How did you enjoy the morning?’
‘It was fine.’ She glances around. ‘I’ve lost my watch.’
‘You probably left it in your room. I’m always doing that. It’s so annoying.’
‘No. I had it here. I remember looking at the time.’
‘I’ll help you look.’
I feel around with my foot, trying to avoid the jets. There’s something about the nozzles that gives me the creeps. At first, nothing, then I poke it with my toe. I bend down and reach it.
‘I think I can feel something. Is this it?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ She looks at it after drying it down with her towel. ‘It’s OK, thankfully.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘Waterproof,’ she adds.
‘Excellent,’ I say, holding up my left arm. ‘Mine too.’
Josephine gives me a strange look before saying, ‘Actually, Charlotte, it’s probably good that we have this time together. It gives us a chance to have a little chat.’
Here we go.
‘Yes?’
‘Has Thomas informed you yet of what the plans are for Antigua?’
Easy.
‘A rainforest visit, zip-wiring and shopping.’
‘Sounds good. We won’t need you to accompany us,’ she says. ‘I understand from Thomas that there is plenty to be getting on with on board.’
‘Of course.’
‘And another thing, Charlotte . . .’
I remain silent. This is all thanks to Lucy’s indiscretion with Gina, who has clearly voiced concerns about me and Harrison.
‘Please let me or Thomas know if you run out of things to keep you occupied. I like to be a relaxed employer, but equally, I expect hard work, trust and absolute loyalty. I’m sure you understand?’
I try to tune out her words, I do know how to play the role of an obedient employee. Although the words stick, I don’t want to give her any indication that she has, in any way, got to me.
‘I completely understand. And I do appreciate being recommended for the role, so thank you.’
Josephine frowns slightly. ‘We rarely take on people unless they come highly recommended,’ she says. ‘Especially not for our holidays; time is so precious. We can’t risk any drama on board.’
‘I agree,’ I say.
Having had the last word, I get out and do a brief towel-dry of my legs and arms. The hum of jet-skis starts up. I look over the railings and see Gina, Garth and Harrison twisting, snaking and criss-crossing trails through the sea.
Josephine settles down on one of the loungers and starts applying sun cream. I have the urge to get under her skin even more by lying on the sunbed beside her, but, of course, I don’t.
I head for the sauna, away from all the sounds and people. I ladle some water from the sauna bucket onto the rocks and watch them steam, before I make myself a little bed with a t
owel and lie down on the warming, wooden slats. It eases my aching muscles as warmth seeps through my bones.
I hear someone walk past. Crap. I want to be alone. The footsteps disappear, thank God. I plug in my earphones and listen to Aerosmith. Sweat forms on my forehead and trickles down my face. I feel drowsy. I sit up, remove my earphones and stretch. I try to push open the door, but it won’t budge. I try again. Nothing.
‘Hello?’ I call out.
Nothing again. I look around for something to help ease the door open. I feel dizzy from heat and rising fear. I take a sip of water and try the lock again. Still jammed.
‘Hello?’
Silence.
I pick up my phone and send exactly the same message to Lucy and Thomas.
I’m in the sauna. The door is jammed. Help please!
No reply. Sweat snakes down my back as I look around the small room and then I spot the alarm cord. I pull it. No one comes but I try the door again and it unlocks. Thank God. I step out, breathing in fresh air. I walk back to the pool. Josephine has gone. The jet-skis have quietened. It is eerily silent, as if I am alone on the yacht.
I love the smell of a fire. On the barbecue grill steaks and burgers sizzle. The yacht crew have turned the beach into a true tropical paradise. Mini lanterns (not dissimilar to the shape of my favourite Narnia lamp) dot the area. Luxurious, cream daybeds are lined up beneath them. The summer beach-party music plays discreetly in the background, not loud enough to drown out the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. Sea shells and rainbows of roses decorate the tables, seafood kebabs on beds of ice with fresh salads and exotic fruit platters sit on white linen tablecloths that flap gently in the breeze.
I look around at the assortment of people as we all sing ‘Happy Birthday’ when the candles on Alicia’s cake are lit. Not that it would be obvious, but no one looks as if they have hate in their eyes. None of them looks capable of being malicious. But then again, I don’t either.
‘No, thanks,’ I say to the offer of a slice of lemon cake – Alicia’s favourite, according to Thomas.
I stand up and stretch. Dusk is imminent and mosquitos are likely not far off. I take some repellent out of my bag and spray before I head for the shoreline.
The Ex-Husband Page 21