‘You look beautiful,’ Rick whispered.
I stood on the sand, in bare feet, by the jetty, surrounded by friends and Amy – and current guests. Cacao House, as a holiday destination, was growing from strength to strength.
The sun beat down on my arms. I wore a floor-length ivory crochet lace dress with wide shoulder straps and a flowing skirt beneath a tighter bodice. Rick stood in front of me in a cream linen suit and pink tie, accentuating his tanned skin and those dark, seductive eyes.
Was this really happening? Was I really getting married?
Yes. To a man whose love, loyalty and integrity had won my heart. He respected my view when we argued. He supported my dreams. But most of all, he made me feel like the centre of his world and not as if I was merely some accessory.
During the last twelve months I’d sensed the scars, from my childhood, slowly begin to heal. Rick had taken our relationship gently, until an uncontrollable passion overwhelmed us both.
Margot had helped me too. We’d spoken a lot. Really spoken – about my past and hers. Before long, it was as if we’d been friends forever. I treasured her advice and the experience of her years.
She talked about Seymour, the first husband who controlled her. Years after the divorce, through a mutual university friend she discovered that he’d had a breakdown and undergone counselling. To her surprise it turned out that he’d suffered a traumatic and abusive childhood.
‘Everyone has a story, Sarah,’ she’d said to me one night. We’d been sitting by the pool, Rick taking a midnight swim, she and I keenly trying out a new star constellation recognition app on my phone. ‘School bullies often come from neglectful homes. Addicts use substances due to low self-esteem. Seymour controlled me, I suspect, because he’d finally been given love and was afraid of losing it. It’s no excuse for his terrible behaviour, but I wish he’d felt able to talk to me. Your father will have a story, too. One day, perhaps, you’ll discover it.’
It gave me a degree of peace, thinking of my father like that – that maybe Amy and I were unloved not because we were somehow lacking… that, instead, that there was another reason that had nothing to do with us.
We didn’t invite him to the wedding. But Margot had planted an idea. Maybe one day – I didn’t know when… I still didn’t know if… I might instigate a conversation with him about his childhood.
I caught Amy’s eye and she winked. Like me, she wore a garland of island flowers in her hair. She was over for the summer, helping out Rachel. Her new housemate, a colleague from work, was looking after a very spoilt Nelly. She was off to university in September. I’d visited her at Christmas. Admired the changes she’d made to the flat, repainting and adding her own personal touches. I missed her, yet my heart swelled at watching her bloom.
Jonas gave me a small wave. He stood with an arm around Benedikt. I’d Skyped him every few weeks and they both visited London for a festive weekend when I went to see Amy. The two of them had settled well together, in Hamburg, and started to get a few gigs. They’d been songwriting furiously since leaving Seagrass Island and were going to play at the wedding breakfast.
Lee gave Rick a thumbs-up. Rick gave one back. He’d had a chat with Lee the first time his brother visited after I decided to stay. I could tell straightaway, by how he’d hugged Rick that the sibling love ran deep. They discussed the childhood accident. Lee admitted he was over-protective. Rick promised to take it easy and to ask Lee before anyone else if he needed help on the island. Then both brothers went back to teasing each other and indulging their competitive streak with swimming races and chess tournaments. Slowly things improved. Angry phone calls between them became something of the past. They still had their disagreements but now were able to talk them through.
Margot walked over, Chatty in her arms. He held a small box in his paws. Rick took it and kissed him on the head, as I did after whistling for a few seconds. He opened it to reveal two simple, silver rings. We hadn’t wanted a fuss and tomorrow we’d be back at work. Although Nia had produced a mouth-watering table of food along with magnificent chocolate cake, made with our very own cacao beans…
At first the chocolate-making process had been hit and miss. We still had a lot to learn. But guests seem to enjoy the experience even if the results didn’t always taste delicious! As time passed we’d instinctively tailored the holiday we offered by making it more of an eco-destination – that suited a growing market – heavily promoting recycling and sourcing food from local suppliers. Also we were thinking about investing in solar panels. Visitors got a tour of the animal enclosures and for an additional fee could take part in the turtle trips and bird observation. Those activities were proving to be very popular. And Margot had recently come up with the idea of Malik’s wife, Zina, setting up a small beauty salon of her own here, for guests. Her new Reiki and massage skills suited our target market. The couple had responded enthusiastically.
Rick was busier than ever, running Seagrass Conservation. The number of volunteers was growing due to the revamped website and word slowly spreading, thanks to us getting conservation influencers involved on social media. His work had even been covered in a couple of magazines.
‘Sarah,’ he murmured huskily, ‘are you ready for this?’
I gazed at the congregation and then back at his gorgeous, mesmerising face. The under-eye bags that testified to his hard work. The appealing lines that proved how much he laughed.
Me? Ready for the marriage I used to swear I’d never have? Ready for the daydream I never used to believe in?
Oh yes.
Because Rick wasn’t a man who had changed my life.
Far more importantly, he was a man who’d supported me changing it myself.