Passport to Happiness

by Carrie Stone

  ‘You’re pregnant?’ I whisper, shocked. ‘But, how?’ I know it’s a ridiculous question even as the words leave my mouth but I’m dumbstruck. ‘When did you find out?’ I manage, trying to think rationally.

  ‘An hour ago. I was a bit late but didn’t think anything of it. You know how stressful work’s been.’ Her speech is hiccupped with sobs, but she takes a deep breath trying to calm herself and continues. ‘Then I was walking past the pharmacy after my meeting and popped in for my Vitamin B refills, saw the pregnancy test and I don’t even know what made me buy one.’ She shakes her head as if in disbelief. ‘I truly thought it was stress.’

  ‘But it was positive?’ I prompt, a feeling of dread descending over me as I consider who the likely father is.

  ‘Straight away, the second line came up.’ Tilly suddenly rummages in her bag, retrieving something and offers it to me. ‘Look.’

  I look at the blue stick she’s holding and although very faint, there’s no denying a second line. ‘It’ll be OK. It’s not the end of the world.’ My voice is soft and I reach out to hug her. ‘You’ll be OK whatever happens.’

  I let her cry into my shoulder, wondering how on earth I’ll broach the subject of who the father is. But I don’t have to. Tilly’s phone begins to ring and her eyes dart to her mobile, ‘Daryl’ clearly flashing across her screen for the both of us to see.

  She picks up the phone and before I can do anything, flings it across the room with the anger of a woman possessed. ‘Fucking bastard. It’s all his fault. Oh god, what have I done.’ Sinking back into the sofa, she covers her face with her hands as I look on, unsure what to say.

  ‘You’re involved with Daryl, your boss?’ I finally venture, partly to fill the silence and partly because I need to get it out in the open. There’s no point telling her I know, now that she’s come clean. It’s better to let her think I wasn’t any the wiser.

  She sighs and wipes her eyes, sitting up straighter. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you but I was too embarrassed. It was easier to pretend I was meeting Cullen. But that only lasted a couple of dates.’ She meets my eyes and looks away again. ‘It started months ago with Daryl as a drunken one-night stand and then I don’t know…’ She tails off, looking sheepish. ‘I guess, I fell in love with him.’ She looks back at me and shakes her head, a wry smile on her lips. ‘What a stupid idiot, hey.’

  ‘Maybe not the best choice,’ I answer, smiling. ‘But as they say – you can’t help who you fall in love with.’ We both ponder this for a moment, before she nods, looking solemn.

  ‘I thought he’d leave her though. Christie, I mean.’ She picks up her now grey tissue and places it on the coffee table. ‘But he has no intention of doing that. I realise that now.’

  ‘You’ve told him about the baby?’

  ‘Yes.’ She swallows and purses her lips. ‘He’s not happy. He said he’s not ready for a child and if word gets out our careers here are finished.’ She looks bitter and I can’t say I blame her. Inside I’m seething at his selfishness and lack of empathy.

  ‘Well, try not to focus on him. You need to think about what you want from this.’

  ‘I don’t want the baby.’ She answers immediately and there’s such certainty in her voice, I don’t dare to question it. ‘I’m going to make an appointment tomorrow at the doctor’s.’ Her phone rings again and she looks up, her expression harrowed. ‘I guess I’d better get it. It’s going to be him.’ She spits the final word and I can feel her contempt. She gets up and goes to the spot where her phone landed to retrieve it and I watch as she disappears into the bedroom.

  It’s hours later when she finally reappears and thankful for the time alone, I’ve at least had a chance to process the events of the day. I’m still in two minds over my own news but I can’t help but be perturbed by Tilly’s.

  ‘All OK?’

  Tilly walks into the living room with puffy eyes and a resolute expression. I put down the magazine I’m holding and get up pointing to the kettle. ‘Tea?’

  ‘Sure, that’d be nice.’ She sits down on the sofa. ‘I’m feeling OK about stuff now. I’ve had a chat with Daryl and we’re going to work something out.’ She picks up the magazine I’ve been reading from the coffee table and flicks it open. ‘I meant to ask, how did your work meeting go?’

  ‘Well, that’s good to hear.’ I don’t ask what the ‘something’ is and nor do I add my two cents that I think she’s insane to even be speaking with Daryl after his initial reaction. She’s clearly changed the subject and has no intention of divulging further, so I don’t press the issue. It’s her decision. I pick up the two mugs of freshly made tea and walk back into the living room.

  ‘The work thing, not good news. Janelle isn’t likely to be coming back – although they’ve still not received her official confirmation – but they have to legally advertise and offer it locally. They can’t just give it to me.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ She puts down the magazine and sighs loudly. ‘God, it’s a shit news day all around, isn’t it?’ We both attempt a weak smile. ‘So what’ll happen now?’ she asks, raising an eyebrow. ‘With Spence, I mean.’

  I haven’t exactly been upfront with her about Spencer’s offer to move in. Not for wanting to keep it to myself, but more because I’ve been in two minds about everything since that day. With no clear idea of my work situation, it’s been hard to even contemplate that decision, yet now I’m armed with the facts, there’s only one way forward. I know it’s time to broach the subject.

  ‘Well, he actually asked me to move in once my maternity cover finished, regardless of how things pan out with work. He’s offered to support me until something new comes up.’

  Tilly stares at me, open-mouthed. ‘Wow, I wasn’t expecting things to have turned so serious. What have you said? Are you going to do it?’

  ‘Honestly, I didn’t want to think on it too much until I knew more about my job.’ I pick up my yellow mug of steaming hot tea and take a tentative sip. ‘But now the prospect of my current position has disappeared, I’ll have to have a serious think.’

  ‘Do you love him?’ she says it softly and I look up, catching her curious gaze.

  ‘I’m not quite in love yet,’ I say, feeling conflicted and slightly guilty. ‘But I do care for him.’ And it’s true, I do. Granted, it’s not the head over heels love it perhaps should be by now … but it’s still a feeling that has crept up on me despite not expecting anything to develop beyond a temporary fling.

  ‘Then it’s a no brainer.’ She shrugs as if the answer is simple. ‘Stay, move in with him and see how it goes. You’ve been happy enough until now. You’ll get another job – it may take a while but there’s loads of schools here. You’re bound to get something. And at least you won’t be back in grey, rainy London at some crappy school.’

  I take a moment to consider what she’s saying. Maybe it is really as simple as that. It’s not a question of choosing a man over work or location. Maybe it’s simply about taking a risk and staying in the place where until now I’ve felt the happiest overall. Won’t the job then follow at some point?

  ‘You’re right. I am bound to get something, aren’t I?’ I catch Tilly staring into the distance and suddenly feel a little selfish. There are so many other things I could be having to worry about right now. I mean look at Tilly, she’s got the weight of the world on her shoulders – pregnant by a man that isn’t available and a career that will in all likelihood be affected if she comes clean about him or the pregnancy.

  I mentally chastise myself. Just over four months ago, this reality was a distant dream that I didn’t think possible. Yet here I am, with friends, a partner, my volunteering and the potential of building a new permanent life. Didn’t I come here in search of something more? And haven’t I achieved that?

  I push aside the niggling feeling that suggests something is still missing, choosing instead to focus on the positives. In an ideal world, I know I could have deeper feelings and more
of a connection with Spencer and maybe he could be more involved in my volunteering. But is there such a thing as a perfect life or partnership anyway? Doesn’t everyone have to make a compromise somewhere?

  I sink back into the chair. Surely if moving in with Spencer and having to wait on a new job to appear is all I have to worry about, then I’m a very lucky woman indeed?

  Chapter 12

  ‘Brody, come along.’ I practically have to drag the dog from the overgrown bush he’s decided to sink his face into, sniffing deliriously. ‘Look at all the wet on those leaves, it’s probably pee.’

  ‘Now on his face.’ Spencer laughs, stroking my fingers as his hand entwines with mine. We’re walking along Baileys bay trail, the sun beating down on us as we follow the flat footpath that’s positioned next to the sea.

  I’m thankful to be out of the house and on an evening stroll with Spencer, for the tension at home is palpable what with Tilly being so emotional. Though mainly I’m grateful to have a chance to clear my head of my own sudden frustration regarding finances.

  I was shocked to discover that I’d somehow managed to spend most of my savings. I don’t know why I’d assumed I’d been doing so well. Part of it boils down to the bank not setting up the direct debit to portion some of my wages into a separate account, but I know ultimately it’s my own doing. In over four months, I’ve managed to save a third of what I thought I’d have. Perhaps if I hadn’t been out so much at the beginning, drinking, lunching and buying crap I don’t need, then I would’ve been able to put aside more. But it’s so easy here to spend. Everyone earns big – so everyone spends. Mentally scolding myself for being so frivolous when compared to most people, I don’t earn big wages, I instead concentrate on the beauty of the reef below. The bright aquamarine water shimmers against the sun’s glare.

  From this vantage point high up on the coastline, with the ocean directly to our left, we are able to see every curve of the island up ahead. The magnificence can be felt with every step as I watch the waves ripple on the endless horizon and notice parrot fish in the sea. The intense brightness of sunshine suddenly causes me to squint and I simultaneously gently bat away a colourful red dragonfly. It’s paradise, I’m walking through paradise.

  How could I have been so stupid not to save harder? The thought hits me again and I feel demoralised, knowing that I can’t even tell Spencer because he won’t understand or relate. Not only is his salary huge, but from the sounds of everything he’s told me, he’s never had to really worry about money. In fact, he appears to relish the lavish and opulent lifestyle that he has. How can I expect him to empathise with my concerns? I know he’ll just offer me money on the assumption that’s the answer to my problem. But I don’t want his money, I want my own. Wasn’t that one of the driving factors for why I came here in the first place? My heart sinks.

  ‘You’re quiet tonight? I hope you’re not still worrying about work.’

  Spencer breaks into my thoughts and I stop walking for a moment, stepping closer to the bushes as a cyclist comes towards us. Whilst I’d told him about my job ending and no chance of fulfilling the extended maternity, I still haven’t shared my reservations about staying in Bermuda without work. But clearly, he knows me better than I give him credit for.

  ‘I am actually.’ I wait for the cyclist to pass as we both say ‘good evening’ before I continue. ‘I checked my finances today and things might be a little tight for me without a job.’ I avoid his eyes, instead focusing on Brody as I feel embarrassed at my admission.

  ‘Well, you wont need any money with me.’ He squeezes my hand, before stopping and gently spinning me around to face him. ‘Everly, I’ve got money and I’ll see you are OK until something comes up. Now can you please stop stressing?’

  ‘OK.’ I smile and kiss him on the lips. Whilst I’m grateful for his words, it’s precisely as I’d anticipated. I push the worry aside and concentrate on the stunning view.

  We get back to his in time for dinner and I’m glad for the peace and quiet of the cottage. I look around, wondering how I’ll feel about living here permanently. Yet for some reason, I can’t envision it. How bizarre. A feeling of dread lodges itself inside me. Is this the future I really want, one where I’ll always be worried about overspending and whether a job will appear? I flick on the music channel as a distraction, just as Spencer steps back into the living room.

  ‘Dinner smells good, are you making your Jambalaya again?’ He comes over to me with slightly wet hair and kisses me on the top of my head, a waft of freshly showered mint body wash, sweeping over me.

  ‘I am indeed.’

  ‘Mmm, that’s my favourite.’ Plonking himself next to me, I’ve barely got a chance to snuggle myself against him before Brody jumps in between us, a lingering scent of bad eggs about him.

  ‘Gosh, he smells.’ I laugh and gently push away Brody, encouraging him to jump down. ‘Come on you, on the floor.’

  ‘Are you still up for the caves tomorrow? I thought we’d do a nice dinner after too, maybe at the Waterlot?’ Spencer adds, stroking my leg. ‘We could go to that champagne bar that just opened?’

  It hits me then like a ton of bricks. When did I become ‘into’ champagne bars and fine dining? Since when did it become OK to drop the kind of money on leisurely dinners that once would’ve paid a hefty chunk of my mortgage? Not so long ago I was doing extra tutoring in my spare time, just to pay my bills and eating egg on toast. Lately, I’ve thought nothing of watching Spencer or Tilly waste two hundred dollars on a lunch. Who am I becoming?

  ‘The caves sound good – although I’m not so keen on the lobster diving idea anymore.’ I try not to let my fear show. ‘The idea gives me the creeps.’ I smile nervously. ‘But let’s skip the dinner and champagne, it’s a bit wasteful really. We can cook here?’

  He looks at me with a bemused expression and shrugs. ‘OK, we skip the lobster part, even though I think you’d be good at it.’ He pulls me closer into his chest and touches my hair. ‘But we’re not scrimping on nights out. It’s a lifestyle choice, it’s not wasteful if you enjoy it. I enjoy steak and I enjoy fine red wine, there’s nothing wrong with that. I work hard so I can party hard.’

  I understand his reasoning but I can’t help thinking of Shanice and the many others that I’ve met through my volunteering programme. The ones who don’t always earn lots, despite working hard and giving back to those even less fortunate.

  ‘I’m not denying you your enjoyments. I’m just saying we don’t always have to go to the most expensive or nicest places. A lot of people work hard Spence, but they don’t all have the good fortune of a five-figure salary every month.’

  His salary still shocks me, especially as I happen to also know his end-of-year bonus is potentially enough for a down payment on a house. There’s something ludicrous about earning so much for crunching numbers, when people like Shanice – who in her day job is a midwife – earn so much less that. OK, it’s not exactly comparable as the work is so different, but I know which I feel is more morally deserving and it’s not Spencer…

  ‘Well, it just so happens that I chose a well-paid career.’ He straightens himself, resting his feet on the floor again. ‘Have I done something wrong? You seem annoyed at me. What’s all this digging at me about my spending?’

  I suddenly feel guilty and tactless. It’s not Spencer’s fault that I’m having an internal crisis about becoming snobbish and superficial.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I guess I was just thinking perhaps we should be a little more conscious of those less fortunate.’ I sit up straighter and reach for his hand, relieved when he clutches it in return. ‘I just don’t want to get too wrapped up in the frivolous side of life here.’

  He gently turns my face to his and kisses me softly on the lips. ‘And that is why you’re so special, Everly Carter. You’re a kind-hearted, good person. You’re different to other women I’ve met – you’re always giving back.’

  I return his kiss but there’s one
niggling thought that won’t relent and it’s his comment – yes, I am different to the likes of some other women, especially those like Tilly and yes, lately I have been trying to give back through my volunteering.

  But how does that fit with Spencer? As much as I’m overwhelmed with happiness at the changes Bermuda has brought me, is an indulgent, superficial lifestyle one that I truly want – because essentially, isn’t that what I’ll have to become accustomed to if I’m to have a future with him? After all, Spencer has no intention of ever giving up his indulgent Bermuda lifestyle, does he?

  *

  The spiky, sometimes jagged stalactites glisten all around me, some as white as snow and others creamy, pink and dark. It’s simply amazing, I’m in awe of the formations as we follow the others down into the cave below, finally descending the hundred and fifty steps and entering the cooler closed in area beyond. It’s like something from a fairy tale. The wooden walkway that’s been built over the lake water has been carefully set up to bounce light magically off its crystal origins. The colours sparkle and twinkle and I stare in wonderment at the natural beauty. Everywhere I look is mesmerising.

  ‘This is striking,’ I say, turning to Spencer who is amused at what I assume is my flabbergasted expression. Playfully slapping him away, I turn to the clear lake water and peer curiously into the depths below, listening with intrigue as the tour guide explains the discovery of the cave by two teenage boys playing a game of cricket.

  ‘What I’d love to do to you in that water, right now,’ Spencer whispers, leaning into me and discreetly grabbing my bum.

  ‘Shh, you’re ruining it. I’m trying to listen. This is historic, it was formed in the ice age, so shut up.’ Giggling at his sullen face, I take a step away. Sure, I know he’s been here before, but it’s my first time in this particular cave and I can’t get over the magnificence of what lies beneath Bermuda. Besides, science is my thing, so it’s hardly surprising I’m excited.