‘Yes, that could work.’ He sighed. ‘Then there’s Chatty… I’ve missed the little chap these last few days. I haven’t spent nearly as much time with him – and I bet he’s missing you.’
I smiled at the thought of his cheeky blond face. Eyes were so important for connecting with people – and even my cat Nelly. But I still felt close to blind Chatty through his whistles and squeaks, through his expressions and playful actions. ‘How about I sit with Lee’s friend and his party? I’m used to schmoozing clients at the hotel. I can help Nia serve the food and drink. It’s only for a few nights.’
‘I… I can’t thank you enough,’ he said and put his empty plate on the side table.
‘What about Jonas and Benedikt? They could play the guitar and piano together. And Jonas is really ace on the harmonica.’ This would be the perfect opportunity for them to spend time sharing their love of music. I really had to see Jonas and catch up on any gossip! ‘I’ll pop into the canteen at lunchtime to ask them. They might want to come over this afternoon to practise.’
‘More beer and crisps required I suppose.’ He grinned.
‘So there are six guests – are they made up of couples?’
‘Presumably,’ said Rick. ‘My brother is going to text me their names and exact flight details this morning.’ He frowned. ‘You said a few moments ago that Nia teaching guests to cook tied into another idea you’d had.’
I closed the laptop, put it back on the ground and turned to face Rick. This might be difficult but profits were profits and he had to start bringing them in.
‘It’s purely from a business point of view. We could run it past Margot this afternoon. There’s a chance you may not like it as it’s not wholly authentic. It will mean some last-minute tweaks to the website and a sign making, plus gardening work and…’ I swallowed, anxious yet excited about explaining more.
‘I’m all ears.’
‘People, men and women, the world over… everyone loves chocolate. I felt a real buzz when I saw the cacao trees on the turtle trip. You’ve practically got a whole orchard of them. Can’t you see? It’s a USP – a unique selling point – for Seagrass Island. You and your family haven’t ever given this house a name, have you?’
He looked puzzled. ‘No.’
‘I think you should call it Cacao House. Get a sign made. We need to dig up a few cacao trees and replant them in the front, perhaps replacing some of the powder puff ones. Then I’ll re-take the photo that tops each page on the website.’ I was rambling now. ‘I’ve looked it up online – I believe, on a very small scale, you could produce your own brand of chocolate just for the family and visitors. The pods are ready for harvest and they mature several times a year. Think how much that would appeal to guests – to make their own bars? You could cordon off the trees and turn that area into an orchard, so that it doesn’t overrun the indigenous species – I know that was a concern of yours.’
‘Chocolate? Cacao House? But this is our home. That name doesn’t mean anything to us.’
‘No, but… whatever it takes, right?’
Reluctantly, he nodded.
‘Cacao isn’t a common word back home – I’d mention on the website that it’s pronounced Ka-Cow. There must be a sign-maker on Tortola who could fix you up with one and perhaps illustrate it with, say, a bean pod.’
He rubbed the stubble on his chin that was looking more like a beard after not having time to shave for a few days. ‘It sounds complicated.’
‘It wouldn’t have to be ready – obviously – for this week’s impromptu guests. But I can’t see it taking long to set up. Visitors could pick their own beans – that’s another activity open to us, a trek over to the orchard.’
‘Chocolate-making?’ He shook his head. ‘What about equipment?’
I raised the palm of my hand. ‘Hold on.’ I got YouTube up on the screen and found the clip I’d watched yesterday. Rick studied it until the end.
‘We’d probably need a proofer,’ he said. ‘And a sous vide. We’ve already got a coffee grinder.’
‘Yes, I checked with Nia. I reckon, tops, it means investing a few hundred pounds – which, in the bigger picture, isn’t that much for the traction I think this will give us when it comes to bookings.’ I was smiling and talking at the same time. It ached! ‘It will be a steep learning experience, no doubt about it, and it may not work – guests making chocolate out the pods they’ve actually picked – due to the fermentation process in the proofer taking around five days to get the slime off the beans. But we can have a stock all ready for roasting and grinding.’
‘Cacao House. I think we should go for it.’ Rick looked sideways at me. ‘By the sounds of it your talents are wasted in Best Travel. How much longer will you stay there?’
‘Who knows?’ I said, brightly. ‘It pays the bills. There’s no rush for me to take my career in a different direction. With a mortgage to pay I’d need to think very carefully about change.’
I’d eat plain toast for a year if I had to, to have a job where my input was valued. But I had to keep that to myself for now.
Rick got to his feet, extended a hand and pulled me up. His phone made a vibration noise and he took it out of his pocket and read a text.
His brow tightened and he angrily swiped the message away. ‘Chocolate-making, cookery lessons… we certainly won’t have to worry about those for the next few days…’ His nostrils flared as he retrieved the text and turned the phone’s screen to me.
Rick. Think I forgot to mention. My mate, Jason… This trip is his stag party. Make sure you’ve got plenty of booze in. I’ve done a bit of research. There are a couple of strip clubs on Tortola. If Jason’s Facebook page is anything to go by that might be their sort of thing. We’re probably talking extreme sports. Pub crawls. I trust you’ll get it sorted. Should be fun! Cheers. Lee
30
A stag party? In an exhausted daze I went back to camp. Strip clubs and pub crawls? You couldn’t get further away from what Seagrass Island was about.
But this is business, said a voice in my head and I tightened my ponytail. Part of me understood why Lee had grabbed the opportunity to get a booking.
I’d done my best to calm Rick. Brandon turned up. Said he’d seen stag party holiday at the hotel he and Nia had been working at, on Tortola, so could draw up a list of suitable bars and excursions. It was almost lunchtime by the time the three of us had talked everything through. I left Rick to Skype his gran. I needed to ask Jonas and Benedikt about playing to the guests over dinner, and to tell Malik about the possible rowdiness of the guests he’d offered to take out and how they weren’t actually couples. I quickened my pace.
‘Sarah!’
I lifted the brim of my cap and stared into the distance. Amy stood waving her hand, a towel wrapped around her head. I hurried over and joined her in the shade, by our shack. We hugged.
‘I’ve hardly seen you all week. Here’s you pulling over-nighters up at the house…’ Playfully she shook her finger. ‘I do hope you took precautions.’
‘Did you really just say that?’ I raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. ‘I told you, I had a website to design. I’ve hardly slept – and not for the reasons you think. The only viruses I could have come into contact with would have been computer ones.’
‘You haven’t even shared a kiss?’
I cleared my throat. ‘Amy, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go, you see I need to find Malik to—’
‘Oh. My. Goodness. Things have at least progressed.’ She jumped up and down and punched the air as the towel unfurled like a huge snake and fell onto the ground. ‘I’m so happy for you! He’s compassionate. Intelligent. As for those Calypso hips…’
‘And he lives four thousand miles away from me in England. So don’t get too carried away.’ I picked up the towel and gently whipped her with it, before handing it back.
Amy stuck out her tongue and we both grinned. It was something she’d do to me as a small child if I insisted on holding he
r hand when we went shopping – or reminded her to wash her hands after using the bathroom. Mum used to do things like that. Anabelle wasn’t clued up at first. I’d understood that, even though I was young. She didn’t have kids of her own. But Dad didn’t get it. I’d found her crying a few weeks after the honeymoon. She muttered something about being a useless stepmum after failing to keep us both supplied with clean school shirts and neither of us much liking her cooking. So Amy helped me bake her a cake. It was wonky and the buttercream ran but it made her cry again. She even ate a big slice, knowing Dad wouldn’t have approved. He made it clear he liked his wife slim.
‘How are things going with Jackie?’
Amy dragged a brush through her knotted hair and talked about cleaning out the animal enclosures. She hung her towel on a line we’d hooked up, leading from our shack to a nearby tree. We walked to the canteen.
‘I found a frog near the boa enclosure,’ she said. ‘It moved slowly and its eye looked odd. I reckon it’s been bitten by something – a mongoose perhaps. It was lucky not to have been eaten. One was brought into the surgery once. It had been bitten by a dog. Like that frog, its eye had become infected, so I asked Jackie if there was a suitable tank we could keep it in and if she stocked the relevant eye drops.’ She stopped for a moment. ‘It felt good, you know? Realising I could help this creature without anyone telling me what to do…’ Her cheeks pinked up.
Yes, you’re a vet in the making, I said – but only to myself. Observing Rick’s relationship with his brother was giving me a deeper understanding of my relationship with Amy and how I hadn’t fully let it evolve. I needed to let her make her own decisions – and hard as it was, mistakes too.
Lunch was Fungi, a common dish in the Virgin Islands made from cornmeal and okra and served with fish. Not my favourite. I caught Jonas’s eyes and we both wrinkled our noses. We had a form of communicating that didn’t involve words. Right from the first day, we’d felt exactly the same about so many aspects of the island. When I thought back to our arrival, I was amazed at how we’d now settled in. Jonas looked radiant and beckoned me over to where he sat. I hesitated but Benedikt gave me a warm smile. I got my food and headed over whilst Amy sat down next to Helga.
‘I’ve missed you, Schatzi,’ said Jonas. ‘How is the website going?’
Benedikt stacked his and Jonas’s plates and took them away.
‘Never mind my website,’ I whispered. ‘Tell me the latest about you and your favourite Hamburger.’
‘Nothing to tell,’ he said coyly and pushed his dreadlocks away from his face.
‘Have you spoken about your feelings to him?’
He broke eye contact. ‘Not exactly. But Alistair and Greg return to Scotland this weekend so we’ll have more private time.’
‘Goodness me. Your cheeks look hotter than the sun at midday.’ I leant forward and grinned. ‘Come on. There’s something you aren’t telling me.’
‘We might have… the other night… outside the shack, just before we went in… he took me by surprise…’
‘Jonas! Hurry up!’
A joyous expression looked back at me. ‘We kissed.’
I grabbed both his hands and squeezed the gently, letting go as Benedikt returned. I asked the two of them about playing music for this week’s guests. Jackie said she was happy for them to miss bird observation whilst they practised this afternoon. Jonas got up to fill the water jug and came back before going over to Rick who’d just come in with Chatty, saying he’d find out what time Rick wanted him and Benedikt to be ready for tonight. Benedikt poured me a fresh glassful and offered to get me a piece of fruit. He came back with a fragrant mango that he proceeded to slice. He pushed it my way with a fork neatly positioned on the side of the plate. I sensed he knew I was no longer a threat to what he might have with Jonas. I offered him a slice. His shoulders relaxed and I asked him to show me his latest Instagram pictures.
Being in love, it made people do out of character things – like amiable Benedikt becoming unfriendly. That’s what frightened me about my feelings for Rick. At Mum’s funeral I’d got talking to one of her university friends, Carol. She was interested in my school studies. Carol was a lawyer. She told me how Mum had dropped out in the final year because she met Dad and their relationship became serious. He’d been doing well at work and bought a big house. He’d wanted Mum to turn it into a home and become his wife. Carol spoke about how, before that, it had been Mum’s dream to become fluent in French and work as a translator – how she and my mum had spent a whole summer getting the train around Europe. I wondered if that was why we’d often holiday abroad. Mum must have missed travelling.
Carol never said anything negative about Dad; never indicated she thought Mum had made the wrong decision. In fact, I remembered her saying how happy Mum looked on her wedding day and how much she’d loved me and Amy. But Carol did say that following your own dreams was very important. That life was short and you didn’t always get a second chance.
What if Rick was my chance? What if this was my opportunity to find true happiness?
Or what if being with him ruined my future aspirations?
I finished my fruit and went over to him. He was thanking Chatty for searching his hair for ticks. He almost pulled off the jokey tone but I could tell it was forced. He sounded stressed. I whistled ‘Daydream Believer’ and the monkey reached out and clambered onto my shoulder and wrapped his tail around my neck. I squashed his body against my head as a way of hugging him and an appreciative squeak filled the air.
‘I could do with this scarf back in chilly England.’
Rick barely smiled. He beckoned to me to follow him outside. ‘I’ve spoken to Gran. She’s not happy about the stag party but agrees with Lee that we don’t have much choice.’ I squinted in the sunshine. He took my elbow and moved me into the shade. ‘If Gran can accept these changes to the home she created, then who am I to disagree?’
‘She’ll go with Cacao House?’
‘The news about the stag party distracted me and I’ve yet to explain the whole chocolate-making idea. But I’ve put out feelers to Malik. One of his friends is a woodworker. Apparently, he’s developed a particular skill for sign-making after demand shot up during the months of rebuilding after the hurricane.’
‘How about I check over the beach huts this afternoon and make sure everything is ready for the arrival of Jason and his friends?’
‘Sure,’ said Rick in a resigned tone. He’d put on his Indiana Jones hat. It was pulled down at the front as if he were hiding from the reality of the next few days.
I pulled it up. ‘What is it?’
Chatty left my shoulder and felt his way over to Rick. True to form he grabbed the hat and dropped it on the floor. Rick gave a genuine chuckle and picked it up.
‘Nothing. Ignore me. I need to shake myself out of this pity party. Seagrass Island survived a life-threatening storm. It can survive the high jinx of a few holidaymakers.’
‘Why don’t I come with you to meet the guests? Let’s Skype Margot and prime Nia to be ready with cocktails. I’m used to greeting customers on a daily basis back home – although I know you’ve had your fair share of experience of that here so—’
‘Really? That would be great!’
Twenty minutes later we sat on the sofa up at the house, Rick’s laptop on his knees. Margot came into view, wearing the familiar leopard print glasses and a matching turban this time.
‘Sarah. Lovely to see you again. Rick, you’re looking tired.’
‘Don’t worry, everything’s in hand,’ he said, sounding more sure than I knew he was.
‘You pick up Lee’s friend later?’
‘If you can call him that. They only know each other on Facebook now.’
‘All the better,’ she said. ‘If this stay doesn’t pan out well there will be no personal repercussions for your brother.’
I admired her objective stance.
‘Sarah and I have been talking about pricing.’<
br />
‘As have Lee and I,’ she said. ‘We think the way to move forwards is as you are now – charging an inclusive price for everything on the island and guests paying extra for excursions they book, and food and drink if they visit other islands…’ She leant forward. ‘And can I take this opportunity to say how much we appreciate you helping out, Sarah, and lending us your expertise free of charge. You’re clearly a go-getting person. I’ll be interested to see where you are, five years from now.’
My chest glowed.
‘Actually, Sarah has another idea to help attract business to the island,’ said Rick. He nodded at me.
I took a deep breath. ‘Do you like chocolate, Margot?’
The wrinkles in her face deepened. ‘If I could comfortably carry a secret stash around in this turban all day, I’d be tempted.’
This was a good start. Not that her face so much as flickered as I set out my idea. Calling the family home Cacao House. Harvesting the trees all year around. Producing a boutique brand of chocolate tourists could take home. Margot listened intently.
‘I could get a sign made,’ said Rick. ‘Put it up before the first proper guests arrived.’
‘USPs. You’re good at them, Sarah. Rick told me about your idea to have a cartoon version of Chatty lead browsers through Seagrass Conservation’s website. This is the same. The chocolate – it’s something that’s unique to this hotel venture. Along with the nearby conservation project, it’s the thing that could make us stand out from local competition.’
‘You like the idea?’ I asked, tentatively.
Margot leant back into her armchair and folded her arms.
‘I’m not entirely heartless when it comes to business. It jars, simply giving our beloved home a name to make money. But…’ She smiled. ‘As Rick knows, his granddad loved chocolate more than anyone. He’d certainly approve. That makes the idea feel more personal.’
‘I’d forgotten that. He would buy a large family bar for himself every Friday, and you were lucky to get a look in, he would eat it that fast.’ Rick glanced at his watch. ‘Right, we need to get going to the airport soon. Sarah? A cup of tea before we leave?’
The Summer Island Swap Page 21