‘Look at me,’ I said to Amy. ‘I paint my nails. And eyebrows. I even iron my socks. I’m just not cut out living in the wilds. I played along when you first told me – thought it was one of your practical jokes.’ Deep breaths. ‘You stay. Enjoy yourself. It’ll be more fun without my complaints about bugs and humid nights.’ I kissed Amy on the cheek, already feeling better. ‘Why not ring Holly at work? Perhaps she’d like to join you here for a couple of weeks and take my place. She’d only have to buy an air ticket.’
Her cheeks turned blotchy. ‘But I booked this place especially for you. For us. Quality time away from our London lives. You and me, together, making a difference.’
‘You really booked it for me?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing.’ I sighed. ‘Ignore me. I’m just feeling out of sorts.’
Amy folded her arms and tilted her head. She’d done that as long as I could remember. It was her way of extracting an answer to a difficult question. Like when I was about ten and once scoffed the last piece of her Easter chocolate, thinking it wouldn’t be missed, telling myself that me eating it would be better for her teeth.
‘It’s just… I’m not the David Attenborough fan who works with animals.’ I tried to keep my voice sunny.
‘You really think I’m that selfish – to put my desires first?’ Her voice wavered.
Amy was the most selfless person I knew. She’d offer up the last slice of pizza and was always bringing home waifs and strays from the surgery that had been handed in and couldn’t be homed for a few days. ‘Of course not,’ I said and exhaled. ‘It’s been amazing of you to spend thousands of pounds on me… but honestly… what were you thinking?’
‘That holiday with Mum we talked about, in Cornwall…’ She spoke in a small voice. ‘You loved camping… and I thought this would be an adventure.’
‘At the time I also loved the Spice Girls and banana and jam sandwiches.’
‘But what about the fun you had at guide camp?’
‘Yes, the night under the stars was brill, but Amy… I was a child. It was exciting, staying up late all night – whereas these days getting a good shut-eye is one of my priorities.’
‘But a luxury getaway… you’d have spent this holiday studying how the hotel was being run. I wanted you to forget work for once. After all these years…’
Yes. That too. After all these years of working my guts out, for once I wanted to be the one people waited on. A sob rose in my throat. I was bone tired. The last decade had worn me out. Shift work. Worrying about Amy as if she were my own child. Taking on responsibilities at eighteen that some people didn’t shoulder until they were into their late twenties or thirties – and me without the support of a family or partner.
I swiped away a fly. More than anything I hated seeing Amy upset. Her current expression reminded me of every time Dad put her down. Like when he told her short hair made her look like a boy. Over the years he’d been equally critical of me, but for some reason I remembered the times he’d hurt Amy more vividly.
‘For anyone else this would be an amazing trip,’ I said and couldn’t help raising my voice. ‘But I knew I should have got more involved and checked the details.’
‘Don’t speak to me as if I’m a child.’ She turned away.
‘And almost five thousand pounds? For the two of us to stay here? Rick must be having a laugh. It’s criminal, charging that much. Everyone here is a right mug for paying that amount.’
‘Does that include me?’ she asked in a tight voice and span around.
‘I didn’t mean…’ I sighed. ‘But you’ve got to admit – it’s a ridiculous price for living in huts.’
‘I’ve done my research. Our food and board is covered. Admin costs. And Rick explained his mission when I emailed him a couple of times about details. This conservation project is about preserving the wildlife that was under threat before the hurricane hit, as well as re-building a habitable environment for those creatures whose lives were devastated by the storm. Then there are ongoing veterinary bills and specialist animal food. And he’s done what he can to create employment for locals who lost their businesses when Hurricane Irma hit. So yes, it’s thousands of pounds – but I checked beforehand to make sure that every penny of it was being well spent. Any profits are ploughed straight back into—’
‘But his family are loaded,’ I said. ‘Why can’t he dip into the business to support his scheme?’
A muscle flinched in her cheek. ‘You don’t trust me to have spent my winnings wisely, do you?’
‘Perhaps we should discuss some house – or rather shack – rules, guys,’ called Helga, interrupting.
‘Go on, back in,’ I said to Amy and shook my head. ‘I need a few minutes – some fresh air.’
She paced up and down. ‘What, to get over the fact that your younger sister always messes up unless you’re hovering over her? Even though she is twenty-three,’ she snapped.
I stepped back, shocked. ‘No, of course not.’
Amy stood still, chin held high. ‘Is it always going to be like this, Sarah?’
‘It’s just… I guess I… because of Dad… the way he was… I just want to make sure—’
‘Are we never going to be able to leave him and our childhood behind? I love you, Sarah. So much. You know that. You’ve been brilliant bringing me up when Dad and Anabelle were doing such a crap job. It’s more than anyone should expect from an older sibling. But I’m grown up now.’ An exasperated tone cut through the humid air and her speech sped up. ‘If you were my mother, I’d have politely told you to butt out a long time ago. And that’s normal. Gaining independence, isn’t that parenting’s ultimate goal? Instead you still change my sheets even though I tell you I will. I’ve offered countless times to help you run the practical side of our flat, in terms of being the one to make sure the gas and electric bills, the insurance, mortgage and council tax are being paid every month – but you steadfastly refuse. When I wanted my last boyfriend to stay over for the night I gave up, you made so many excuses.’
‘I didn’t think he was right for you,’ I protested.
‘That’s not your decision to make. I’m a grown woman.’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘I can’t take it much longer. Living with you… it’s been great. I love our little flat. But I’m older now… perhaps it’s time I got a place of my own.’
Amy move out?
I hurried into the forest and leant up against a tree. I covered my face with my hands. Hot tears trickled down my face. Annoyed at myself, I wiped my eyes on my arm and sniffed. Amy mustn’t see me like this. I stayed there until my cheeks dried, digesting everything my sister had said.
Those angry words made my mind up. Four weeks apart would give Amy the independence she craved and maybe she’d miss all the little things I did. Then when she returned to England life would just carry on as it always had. She’d love being back at our cosy place and would forget all this nonsense about setting up on her own. Our London flat wasn’t in the most desirable area. We’d need a new boiler soon. The main road we lived on was noisy. But it was home. We had Nelly. And our friendly neighbours.
We had each other.
Once more I thought about the trip I’d been expecting. My holiday weeks off work were so precious. I didn’t get time to relax properly all year round as I never had even two days off straight.
I wanted to collapse in a heap and wail at the injustice. Yes, I loved my career. That didn’t mean I wasn’t in need of chill time. My chin trembled. I’d dreamt of daily massages and sunning myself by a pool… but now I imagined this break would consist of getting up at the crack of dawn and using muscles I never even knew I had, despite helping housekeeping make beds and guests move suitcases that felt as if they’d been filled with lead.
I scratched my neck and ants covered my hand. I yelped and leapt away from the tree trunk, brushing myself down as if I were on fire.
That was it. I strode back to camp and went straight up to Rick.
‘Can you tell me the time of the next boat back to Tortola, please?’
His lifted the front rim of his hat and smiled. ‘I’ll put a list up of day trips, for the weekend. And just let me know if there’s anything else you want to know. I’m always here to help.’
‘No. I mean, for before then.’
He looked puzzled. ‘There isn’t one until tomorrow morning.’
‘But there must be. This is a holiday destination.’
‘No. This is a conservation project.’
Suddenly his voice sounded almost as tired as I felt. I didn’t blame him, permanently living in a place like this. Although I wasn’t blind to its natural appeal, like the relaxing sound of waves breaking instead of car engines or a computer’s whirr, the pollution-free air and trees greener than AstroTurf.
‘That we’re nevertheless paying handsomely to visit,’ I said, assuming the voice I used at work if a guest was being unreasonable. ‘What if I had an emergency back in England? There must be some sort of shuttle service. I don’t mind how long I have to wait on the beach. Just give me a time and I’ll sort myself out. I know you’re busy.’
‘Is it urgent?’
‘Yes,’ I said, trying to work out, in my head, exactly how long my meagre savings would last whilst I wasn’t employed.
Rick rubbed the stubble beard that left me wondering what it would feel like against my skin, if we kissed.
A purely hypothetical question. We were hardly a match. All the men in my line of work wore suits and full-beards or were clean shaven. Management didn’t approve of the nine o’clock shadow look.
‘Or more a matter of cold feet?’ he asked. His hand, with the clipboard, dropped to his side. Jackie appeared, carrying a bag of water bottles.
‘No. Because that implies I knew about—’
He gave a small sigh and muttered to Jackie, ‘Another one.’
‘Another what?’ I interrupted.
He looked back at me. ‘Pardon?’ His mouth upturned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Nothing. Look, get down to the shoreline for ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Jackie will sail you back.’ He looked at her. She shrugged and nodded. ‘But I’m afraid there’s no refund. If you’ve read them, you’ll know that is stated in the terms and conditions.’
‘Another what?’ I repeated.
He hesitated. ‘Just occasionally people turn up who’ve either watched too many YouTube videos of Richard Branson’s island…’
Heat crept up my neck.
‘Or who think conservation is a fashion and means of building their Instagram feed. I call it Green Bragging. Needless to say, in both cases, they haven’t studied Seagrass Conservation’s website in detail so our way of life comes as a shock.’
‘Now just a minute, I—’
‘Rick. Why don’t you leave this to me,’ said Jackie and shot me a sympathetic glance.
Who did this Rick bloke think he was, talking to me like that?
‘I can assure you, that’s not the case with me. I didn’t even know that—’
‘You aren’t the first and probably won’t be the last person apprehensive about hard manual graft. I don’t blame you,’ he said in a kinder tone. ‘What with technology, man’s life has evolved to rely on easier options. Look, if you want to take some photos of the animals and birds we have, before leaving, I’m happy to take you over to the enclosures first thing and—’
‘Hard graft? Since I was eighteen I’ve worked as hard as anyone I know. I could easily—’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Tolerate cold showers and toilets that don’t flush? Patiently search for turtle nests or count birds? Of course, I partly blame celebrity jungle shows. Fans watch them believing that behind the scenes participants are secretly allowed luxury baths and MasterChef meals.’
Heat moved from my neck and into the tips of my ears.
Jackie passed him the bag. ‘Do you want to hand those out, Rick?’ she said, smoothly. ‘I’ll sort out… Sarah, wasn’t it? It doesn’t surprise me that, now and again, a guest changes their mind when they actually get here, however well-intended their booking has been,’ she said to Rick and shot him a pointed look. Jackie handed the bag to him when her phone rang. She answered. Frowned.
‘Change of plan, I’m afraid. Apparently one of the parrots is looking ill.’
Rick took the bag as she shot me a smile and headed off. So there were parrots here. At least I’d got that right. He stared down at me for a moment. Took off his hat and rubbed his forehead.
‘Look… sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Things have been stressful what with the rebuild of the family estate and running this venture… you’re more than welcome to sleep in the main house for one night.’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘That wouldn’t be fair on everyone else.’
‘Your travelling companions seem happy enough. I think you’ll find they’d feel you were the one missing out.’
Rick stared over my shoulder. I turned around. Benedikt and one of the other men from our group were good-naturedly arguing over the best way to start a fire. Helga looked impossibly cheerful as she came from the direction of the toilets. One of the couples was smooching near the trees. The sound of running water indicated that someone was taking a quick arctic shower – and wasn’t even screaming.
That weighty sense of not belonging washed over me again.
Although Amy didn’t look cheerful… she sat dismally on the ladder leading up to our room, knees up, chin resting on folded arms.
‘Fetch your luggage,’ he said. ‘It’s no problem. I’ll take you up to the house. The last one to jump ship left behind a couple of novels he’d brought. I’ve read one – a detective story. It’s not bad. You can stay there, if you prefer, until you leave tomorrow.’