by Carrie Stone
After thirty minutes the tour is over and, armed with enough photos to fill my entire mobile memory chip, we re-emerge at the top. ‘Can you believe that these crystal caves are practically beneath the whole of Bermuda, isn’t that just crazy?’
‘Hmm crazy,’ she says, clearly not interested as he checks his mobile. He suddenly stops and I notice his face drain of colour. ‘Damn. Looks like there’s something wrong with that account I was telling you about.’
‘Your work client? Is it fixable?’ I try to sound concerned, knowing how much this particular client means to him. After all, I’ve had to listen to the stories for the last three months.
He’s already scrolling through his emails, distracted. ‘Do you mind if we shoot back to mine? I need to make a few calls. This is big.’ He looks up briefly before blowing out air, running a hand across his face. ‘Fuck. What a mess and on a weekend too.’
‘Look, drop me off back at Tilly’s – you need to sort all of this out and I’ll just be in the way. I’ll go back home and we’ll do dinner tomorrow instead. I’ll use the time to get my school work out of the way.’
‘Thanks hon, you’re a dream.’ Leaning in to kiss me, I notice it’s a preoccupied effort on his part and it’s not long after that we’re already on our way.
I always love our journeys by scooter instead of car because I get to see more of the Bermudian countryside. Today is no exception. The sun is almost unbearable, despite the breeze from being on the bike. The sea sits to our left and as always takes my breath away with its vivid blueness, framed by countless mangroves and palm trees as we whizz by. I realise I find it hard to put into words how much I’ve grown to love this subtropical island. In four and a half short months it’s almost become a part of me, from its well-mannered population to its traces of Portuguese ancestry. I’m spellbound with my newfound home and it’s almost enough to make me cast aside all of the doubts that have been playing heavily on my mind in the last couple of days; namely my relationship with Spencer and if the life here is the correct one for me.
We pull up outside Tilly’s and I glance at my watch as I wait for Spencer to cut the engine. Exactly two o’clock.
He hops off and checks his mobile. ‘I won’t come in if that’s OK. Tell Tilly I said hello.’ He waits for me to grab my bag from under his seat before closing it and sitting back on his bike.
‘Will do.’ I lean across, kissing him goodbye, secretly relieved that he won’t be coming in. I can’t predict the mood Tilly will be in and obviously I haven’t told him about her pregnancy or quandary. Besides, I’d rather not to be in the middle if he senses something is amiss. ‘Speak to you after. Hope you get it sorted.’
I watch as he rides off and begrudgingly walk to the apartment, praying that there won’t be the tension that I left behind. I’m shocked to see it’s a very different state of affairs.
‘Hey Ev, how’s it going.’
Daryl greets me from the kitchen island as Tilly stands next to him, a ridiculous smile on her face. She’s holding a flute of champagne and I can see from her flushed cheeks and unfocused stare that she’s slightly drunk.
‘Oh, hi.’ Did he just call me Ev? Willing myself to bite my tongue, I take a deep breath and casually drop my canvas bag to the floor. I try to hide my contempt at what appears to be a very loved-up scenario as I slip off my shoes.
‘I thought you were out for the whole day?’ Tilly says, glassy-eyed. She walks over to the sink.
‘Yes, sorry about this. Spencer had to rush…’ I’ve barely got the words out when she cuts me off.
‘Actually though, it’s good you’re home.’ She claps her hands together in excitement, a smile on her lips. ‘We’re celebrating!’ She spins around and happily walks to the cupboard, selecting another flute from the shelf. ‘So, it turns out I’m not pregnant after all.’
Wide-eyed and rooted to the spot, I stare at her, unsure of what to say. Daryl looks at me, and grins.
‘Don’t worry, I know you know everything.’ He takes a long slug of champagne and walks over to the sofa, flopping himself down and propping his feet up on the coffee table. ‘Come sit down, babe,’ he says, glancing up at Tilly and patting the seat next to him. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to walk over to him and pour the drink over his head.
‘Here you are,’ Tilly says, handing me a glass and not seeming to notice that I haven’t made any move to sit down. ‘I got an appointment at my private women’s clinic earlier so I could get them to do another test but got my period whilst I was getting ready to leave.’ She stops and shakes her head in astonishment. ‘Just like that! I actually couldn’t believe it. But the doctor said it happens sometimes. They said it could’ve possibly been a chemical pregnancy or something.’ She waves her hand. ‘Anyway, their blood tests showed up as not pregnant, so as you can imagine, I’m absolutely over the moon. So relieved.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ Daryl pipes up from the sofa. I daren’t look at him because I feel myself riling up with anger. Instead, I focus on Tilly and lean in to hug her. The relief is radiating from her.
‘Oh, I’m so pleased for you.’ And I am because clearly the situation has resolved itself. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about and how it would have played out. So for that, I’m thankful she’s got off lightly. I can’t, on the other hand, understand why she’s OK with Daryl lounging around in our living room, acting like he’s won the lottery and openly accepting of the fact that I know he’s cheating on his wife with Tilly. I want to shake sense into her but I’m too stupefied to do anything.
A high-pitched ringtone suddenly shrills through the apartment, reverberating off the walls making both Tilly and I jump.
Behind us, Daryl springs up from the sofa mobile in one hand and drains his champagne flute with the other. ‘Right, I need to go.’
‘So soon?’ Tilly asks as I remain quiet, observing Daryl rushing around and gathering his belongings. ‘I thought we might go for lunch?’
‘Sorry babe, I can’t. I’ve got to get back.’ He joins us near the front door and hastily throws his hoodie over his arm, his car key already poised in one hand. ‘I’ll give you a call later though.’ He kisses her on the cheek and nods at me. ‘Nice to see you again, Ev.’
Unsure how to respond, I feel myself giving him a small, tight smile and am relieved when he doesn’t even wait to see it, instead pushing out of the door and closing it behind him. I turn to Tilly, stunned.
‘Tilly, please tell me you’re not serious? What the hell was that?’
Her face clouds over and she looks at me sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
I walk slowly to the sofa and sit down, knowing that she won’t like what I have to say but unable to help myself.
‘Tilly, that guy just sat there like a pompous prick, celebrating that you’re not pregnant and then rushed off – because I’m assuming his wife was calling him.’
I hear her sharp intake of breath and she looks at me with fierce, fiery eyes, jabbing her finger in my direction.
‘How can you be such a fucking bitch? I’ve just found out I’m not pregnant – do you understand how life-changing that is? Do you understand the fucking hell that I’ve been going through for the last thirty-six hours? The absolute horror and heartache of knowing that my life was potentially about to fall apart?’ She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, her face red with anger. ‘And yes, it might be morally wrong of Daryl to be happy I’m not pregnant but I don’t blame him. Our entire lives here were on the line!’
‘I get that,’ I answer softly, knowing that she’s totally missed my point. ‘And I’m not trying to put a damper on your happy news. But this is the guy that didn’t want to know you yesterday! The guy that would have happily let you bear the brunt of the consequences if things hadn’t turned around.’ I stop for a moment and will her to see what’s so obviously staring her in the face. ‘Tilly, I’m sorry to have to say it but you’re my friend, so I’m going to – Daryl is not a good guy. Look
at just now. He’s just rushed off at a time when he should be here supporting you. Is that what you want from a man?’
She wavers for a moment, the fire seemingly extinguishing from her blazing glare. ‘Just because you live with me and get to know all of my business, does not give you the right to judge my choice of man.’ She slams down her champagne flute on the kitchen worktop. ‘I’ve just had the most horrendous of days and now you’ve managed to put me back into a shit mood. Thanks. That’s not what you call a friend.’ She practically spits the words at me and I know instantly that I’m defeated.
It doesn’t matter how much I want her to see things with a clearer perspective, she’s too caught up in her emotions. I bite my lip knowing that, in her eyes, I’ve overstepped a boundary, and the last thing I want is an argument.
‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’ I push away a rogue curl that has found its way into my mouth. ‘I don’t want to upset you or for us to fall out – I simply am trying to tell you that I think you deserve better than Daryl.’ Picking up my laptop from the side dresser, I face her for a moment and watch as she considers my words. ‘But let’s not argue over him.’
‘Fine. I’m not arguing. We’ll just have to agree to disagree.’ She smooths her top and readjusts her waistband. ‘It’s probably a good thing that you’ll be moving in with Spencer anyway. Maybe we’ve been around each other too much.’
She looks at me pointedly as she says this and I try not to let my surprise show. To say I’m caught off-guard by her comment is an understatement. Sure, I didn’t expect or want to stay much longer but I thought our situation was mutually agreeable until now. In fact, I’ve been going above and beyond to repay her in kindness and generosity in ways I know she will appreciate, such as occasional home-cooked dinners. Evidently, she hasn’t been feeling the same way.
‘Right. I see. Well, I can be out of your hair sooner, that’s no problem.’ My voice is strangled and clipped and I feel stung. From the guilty way she glances at me, she’s unmistakably aware of the power of her words.
‘Don’t be such a baby about it. I’m not kicking you out, I’m simply saying it’s probably for the best. You’ve got another month before your job finishes anyway.’
‘Yes, but I can go anytime, Spencer wont mind. And like you say it’s probably for the best.’ I know I sound childish but I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. She pouts as I stare her down.
‘Well, do as you please.’ She reluctantly turns away, rolling her eyes dramatically as she does so but I know that she’s resisting the urge to say something more. ‘If you want to end things between us on awkward terms that’s your choice. I’d rather not.’
Never in all my years of friendship with Tilly, have I ever heard her apologise for her behaviour. Whilst I know this is far from an apology, it’s also a way of letting me know she doesn’t actually want me to leave.
‘I’ll think on it,’ I reply, my stubbornness winning out and not wanting her to think I’m fine to overlook her hastiness when all I was trying to do was be a good friend. ‘Anyway I’ve got work to do. I’ll be in my room.’
Walking over to the dresser where my marking is stacked, I grab the books before making my way to the bedroom. I’m shaking inside, feeling both disappointed and angry at the turn of events. Everything was going so well, and then, well, first the job situation, then the doubts about my lifestyle with Spencer … and now this situation with Tilly. Sitting down on the bed with my pen, I pick up the first book in the pile of schoolwork before me.
Life never can just go smooth and stay smooth can it?
Chapter 13
‘You’re going to stay then?’ Amy says, sounding dismal, the dejection obvious. ‘I mean, I don’t blame you. If you’re happy with him then you should give it a try. But I’ve missed you. I guess I was looking forward to having you back.’
‘I’ll be back for a holiday though. I’ll look at booking something in a few weeks’ time.’ I keep my voice upbeat and light. Of course I should’ve probably warned her sooner about Spencer’s offer but until I had everything clear in my own mind, I didn’t want outside influences making me question things. And obviously I was right to keep it quiet, because even now hearing Amy’s voice, I’m trying not to second guess my decision to stay and wait for another job to appear. Especially after it’s taken me all evening to fully decide upon it.
‘What happens about your job? Will they just keep you on?’ she asks, and I feel myself preparing for battle. I know Amy isn’t going to agree with me giving up everything and having no fall back.
‘No, that one will end, and Spencer has said he’ll support me until I find another.’
There’s a long silence and I can tell she’s eager to have her say but to my surprise she simply says, ‘OK, that’s good then. I’m sure you’ll find something relatively soon.’
Relieved that she’s choosing to sidestep that particular argument, I ask about her novel. ‘Do you have a publication date yet?’
‘Yes, it’ll be released around Christmas time. I’ve told Jack about it too. He seemed OK, more concerned with the money I’ll make though than the fact I’ve achieved a lifelong dream. However, he’s under the impression the competition was only last month…’ Her steady tone wavers and she lets out a sigh. ‘Still, it doesn’t matter, does it, he’s hardly going to check into the progress. Oh, speaking of which, Jonathon is helping me to set up a website and Facebook author page.’
Floored by the fact she’s finally told Jack, I almost miss the mention of ‘Jonathon’ and she’s already moved onto something about Lily and Harry when I cut in.
‘Is this the Jonathon from your writing group? You two are getting a bit close aren’t you – if he’s doing you a website and stuff?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. He’s a lovely, helpful guy and I’d hardly call him helping me to set up a website ‘close’.’ Her defensive tone suggests otherwise. ‘You make it sound like I’m having an affair.’
‘Well, aren’t you, if he’s that lovely?’ I joke, testing the water and immediately regret it when I’m met with silence. ‘Oh shit, you’re not, are you?’ There’s more silence and then a faint whisper. ‘Amy? Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’ There’s a loud sniff and then her croaky voice continues. ‘The thing is … Jonathon…’ She hesitates, and I hear her take a breath. ‘He tried to kiss me last week.’
‘What! And what did you do?’ Holding my breath I wait for her to answer but I somehow know what’s coming even before I hear it.
‘I kissed him back.’ Although she whispers it, I can hear the shame in her voice and picture the face she’s pulling at the other end of the phone, eyes squinting and mouth tense. ‘It completely took me by surprise and as soon as I realised what I’d done, I felt awful. It’s been eating me up ever since.’
‘What are you going to do?’ I sound bossy, but I picture Jack and then little Harry and Lily. ‘I hope you’ve quit the writing group…?’
She stops me in my tracks, quite forcibly. ‘Enough, Everly. I’ve told him it was very wrong and no, I’m not going back to the group. But he is still going to do the last bit of my website for me online. It’s harmless that way, it’s not like we’ll be seeing one another again and he’s almost finished.’
‘Honestly Amy, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ In fact, I know it’s not a good idea. ‘You might be fed up with your life at times and think the grass is greener, but I promise you that it’s not always the case. What you’ve got is everything some people dream of having. Don’t throw it away for a bit of fun.’ I’m pleading but I don’t want to see her make a huge mistake. She’s got so many things right in her life, I just wish she could see it as discernibly as I can.
‘I know you’re only trying to look out for me but you don’t know everything, Everly. My life might look perfect to you, but it isn’t.’ She pauses, and I hear Lily shout something in the background. ‘Jack’s just walked in with the kids, so I’m going to have
to go.’ Her voice is breezy and light again.
‘Of course. Say hi to everyone for me and give the kids a kiss. I’ll give you a call in the week.’ We say our goodbyes and I hang up, wondering when life suddenly got so complicated for everybody.
*
‘For someone that says they’ve a fear of being underwater, I’m most impressed,’ Martin quips, removing his scuba mask and eyeing up my collection of trash on the swim deck of the boat.
‘I think she’s a liar, Martin. She’s probably a dive master and keeping it a secret,’ Shanice interrupts, laughing and I watch as she too removes her mask and detaches her snorkel whilst her legs dangle in the water beside me.
Grinning, I heave myself up on the boat deck to join them, exhilaration coursing through me despite my body feeling tired after the two-hour on-and-off snorkelling session.
‘I wish that were true Shanice, it’d certainly be more fun than the countless times I inhaled water.’ Sitting next to her, I remove my equipment and rub my eyes, feeling the sting of salt before glancing at the collection dump. ‘Wow, we got an awful lot.’ I feel my heart swell with pride as I survey our finds.
‘We did. Have a look over at the other boats too, they’re all piled up.’
Glancing across at the anchored boats nearby, now also swarming with their crew, it’s easy to make out the piles of plastic and debris on each deck.
‘It’s crazy just how much stuff is down there.’
‘I’m worn out now,’ Shanice says, standing on slightly shaky legs to reach across for the cooler of cold drinks. ‘Do you want a cola?’
‘Yes, please.’ I notice the tremble of my own hands as I accept a drink and greedily down it, the sugar rush a welcome pleasure. ‘I might need a nap later to recover from that good deed.’