A Family Holiday (24 page)

Fleur ignored her and continued. ‘He dumped me. He’s Duggan the Dumb-per,’ she said, as she wrote it in the air with her finger.

‘Okay, I’m officially lost and confused and it’s time for bed.’ Charlie unfurled her feet from underneath her and wriggled her toes.

‘Jonathan was the one that made a lunge at me. I was staying at his place when I was trying to solve the mystery of the bed bugs.’

‘Jonathan?’ But, as soon as she’d said the name, Charlie knew exactly who it was.

‘Jonathan Steeple, he’s that solicitor guy. He was really helpful and nice and we became friends. I thought he liked me as a person, but after he did that I knew it was all just a ploy.’

‘He’s all right, is Jonathan, and I don’t think he has a dishonourable bone in his body.’

Fleur huffed. ‘As I left he spouted a load of stuff about me, saying that when someone comes into your life and changes the world as you know it, it makes you re-evaluate everything, but that’s just typical male bullshit, isn’t it?’

‘You know, this time I don’t think it is,’ said Charlie, with a brief smile. ‘You might want to think about giving him a second chance.’

Berta was a bit later starting than usual and Charlie was thankful for the fraction of a lie-in she managed to get. She was slowly climbing the ladder back to consciousness when someone’s foot rubbed gently up and down her leg. Charlie blinked and stretched as Fleur turned over.

‘Dear God, you need to wax your legs. I thought I was in bed with a builder,’ mumbled Fleur, with her eyes still closed.

‘Good morning to you too, you cheeky mare. For your information I shaved everywhere a few days ago.’

‘Interesting, do tell.’

‘Nothing worth telling,’ said Charlie, shuffling herself into a sitting position.

‘That tells me there is something to tell but you’re not telling. So spill, but do it quietly. I have the most frightful head. Bloody rum!’

‘There is someone, well, there was someone and they switched on feelings I didn’t even know I was capable of.’

Fleur opened one eye, ‘Are we talking sex?’

‘No! Well, yes, there was sex, but not a one-night stand… although it turns out that it was.’

Fleur closed her eye. ‘Either I’m still drunk or you’re talking total rubbish, because I am very confused and it’s making my head hurt more.’

‘I’m very confused too,’ said Charlie, her forehead creasing with the effort of analysing her situation. Sleeping with Blue had only made things more complicated. For a second she thought she regretted it but she realised swiftly that she didn’t. She had a connection with Blue and it wasn’t about the children. The truth was, she felt something when she was with him. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was that she felt but with a hangover pounding away behind her eyes, now was not the time to scrutinise her feelings any further.

She was saved from any further consternation as the bedroom door opened and Eleanor came in with Millie in tow. Eleanor jumped onto the bed on Fleur’s side and Fleur groaned. Millie toddled round to Charlie to be picked up.

‘Not much room today,’ she said, slotting Millie between herself and Fleur. Millie stuck her bottom into Fleur’s chest to create a bit more space for herself, Fleur grumbled and shoved her head under the pillow.

‘I forgot how much you fidget,’ said Charlie.

‘And you snore,’ said Fleur from under the pillow, ‘that rum cocktail thingy was a bit strong.’

‘Did it take you three of them to work that out?’

‘Three! Ahh,’ came the muffled grumble.

‘Are you stopping long?’

Fleur lifted the pillow. ‘Oh, come on, Charlie, don’t do that. I only arrived yesterday and already you’re booking my flight home.’

‘Does that mean you haven’t booked a return flight!’ said Charlie, her concern evident. ‘Look, it is really brilliant to see you, of course, but
…
’ she couldn’t see a good way to finish the sentence.

‘So I’ve forgotten the return-flight bit. I’ve never booked one before, sorry,’ said Fleur, coming out from under the pillow and wrinkling up her nose. ‘My head feels like a stuffed aubergine,’ she groaned. ‘I won’t overstay my welcome and I won’t intrude. I promise. Now please, can I get some more sleep?’

The children had finished breakfast. Millie was repeatedly doing a twelve-piece jigsaw on the table outside and Charlie was staring at the flowers, trying to conjure up another hummingbird whilst George and Eleanor had gone to use the bathroom. Ted had been a fleeting shadow that had planted a brief greeting on each of the people at the table, including a kiss for Millie and a high-five for George, before he had stolen two bananas and jogged off towards the beach. Charlie was pleased that he was enjoying himself and the responsibility would do him good.

Charlie finished her pineapple juice, put the glass on the table and stretched. A small blue-tit sized bird called a yellow breast joined Charlie and proceeded to nose dive into her glass to retrieve the dregs of her juice. It was such a gymnastic feat, she didn’t have the heart to stop it. It suddenly took off as a figure loomed in the doorway.

The sorry-looking sight of Fleur in sunglasses, pyjama bottoms and flip-flops shuffled out onto the patio area, wincing at the morning sunshine.

‘That needs a dimmer switch,’ she said, pointing idly into the sky at the bright sunshine and pulling out a chair. They sat in silence for a bit before Berta came out and joined them. She looked almost as hung-over.

‘Coffee?’ Berta asked.

‘Grande Americano, please,’ replied Fleur.

Berta gave her an old-fashioned look as a reply. ‘Did the rum hijack you?’

‘I think it blatantly mugged me and tied my brain in a knot. Any local remedies that work?’ Fleur sounded hopeful.

Berta thought for a while, ‘There’s souse.’

‘What’s that exactly?’

‘Like a soup,’ explained Berta, and Fleur’s interest showed as she raised an eyebrow, ‘made from pig’s head and trotters.’

‘Actually, I’ll give that a miss, thanks,’ said Fleur pulling a face. ‘A large black coffee would be wonderful, please.’

A white splat splashed onto the table near Fleur and she recoiled. All three women stared at it and then up to the sky. A second splat landed on the patio and a third landed on the table near to Charlie.

‘Eew!’ said Fleur, pushing her chair back, ‘that’s a huge turd.’

‘Charlie leaned forward and dipped her finger into the white substance.

‘Charlie! That’s disgusting!’ said Fleur.

Charlie ignored Fleur and sniffed the dipped finger before tasting it. Fleur started to wretch and Berta looked taken aback.

‘Toothpaste,’ declared Charlie, as she looked up to the bathroom window above. ‘Thanks, you two. Now finish washing faces and brushing teeth so someone else can use the bathroom.’

A peal of giggles broke out above them, followed by the slam of the bathroom window.

Fleur decided she would spend the day at the villa again, her monster hangover dictated that she needed to drink lots of water and a day in the sun wasn’t going to speed the recovery of her pounding head. She found some peace on the patio and was thrilled by the arrival of the hummingbird that Charlie had enthusiastically told her about earlier. Unfortunately, when she had called to the others, it had disappeared.

Fleur managed to doze off whilst the children were playing in the swimming pool but the shrill squeals from Millie frequently woke her. Berta appeared before lunch and handed Fleur a tumbler of cloudy liquid with a few green bits floating in it.

‘Thanks Berta, but I’m not a hair-of-the-dog sort of person,’ she said, handing it back.

Berta gave a broad smile. ‘It’s coconut water and lime, no rum and no pig. You wanted a local cure,’ she said, clinking her glass gently on Fleur’s before downing it. Fleur peered into her own tumbler, but decided that studying the contents wasn’t going to improve the look of it. She took a sip and, despite the tang of lime catching in her throat, it was surprisingly good. She knocked it back and settled down for another interrupted nap, which was pretty much how she spent the rest of the day.

At the end of the next day Charlie was surprised to learn from a very casual comment from Ted that Blue was back; she totally failed to control her interest. ‘How is he? Did he say why he’d been away?’

Ted shrugged and gave a thoughtful pout. ‘Seems all right. Tigi said Blue took occasional jobs of moving boats around the islands.’ It appeared that was all she was going to get out of him. He was engrossed in lighting the barbecue. She felt a surprising amount of relief to hear that Blue was back and that no harm had come to him. Now she had to put her own feelings to one side and work out the best way to have a sensible conversation with him about the children.

Part way through the barbecue a familiar voice came from the driveway. ‘Charlie!’ Everyone paused. Millie was midway through a corn on the cob, her face covered in butter and yellow dots like she had a bad case of acne. Charlie tried to look casual as she left them but she could hear Fleur asking who it was. Charlie went through the villa and shut the door behind her, although it was likely their voices would carry to the back of the house on the warm evening air.

‘Is that for me?’ asked Blue, eyeing Charlie’s hot dog.

‘Er, no, but it’s yours if you want it.’

‘No, you’re okay. They always strike me as a bit phallic.’ Charlie stared at her innocent-looking hot dog. ‘Large sausage nestled into a soft, doughy white bun?’ Blue pointed at the hot dog as if it were a diagram. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts as they both pulled their eyes away from the hot dog to survey each other.

‘I’m sorry I had a go at you about the email. Where’ve you been?’ said Charlie.

‘I’ve been chilling out and doing some thinking. That’s all really.’

‘I see. So you’ve finished your meditating now, have you?’

Blue laughed at Charlie’s words. ‘Yeah, something like that. Look, I’m sorry I went off, but it was all a bit much.’ He was smiling, but something of the sadness remained in his eyes.

‘What made you come back?’

‘I had a worse thought that you might leave now that you don’t officially have a job.’

‘And leave the kids behind?’

‘I don’t know. I was just worried you’d gone. That was all.’ He straightened his creased t-shirt. It looked like he’d been sleeping in it.

Charlie relaxed her shoulders, only now realising how tense they had been. ‘Do you want to join us?’ She could see the resistance in his eyes and he stepped backwards slightly. ‘Come on, perhaps we could talk about my job situation and a plan for the children when they’ve gone to bed?’

‘Charlie, don’t push me on this. I’m not trying to be awkward, but there’s a lifetime of mess behind me that makes me a terrible candidate to be around these kids as anything other than ‘the guy with the boat’
…
’ he made inverted comma signs for emphasis.

‘I’m not going to bully you into anything. Just come and have some food. The hot dogs are good, especially the phallic ones.’ Her smile was disarming and Blue conceded silently and followed her round to the patio.

‘Hello again, Felix,’ said Fleur, looking rather surprised as Blue appeared behind Charlie. ‘How long are you here on holiday for?’

‘Fleur’s got some catching up to do,’ explained Charlie, as she popped her sausage out of the split roll and dropped it back onto the barbecue to reheat.

‘Don’t upset the system,’ said Ted, giving Charlie a nudge and a broad smile. George was like Ted’s shadow tonight and was eagerly hovering at his side with two sets of tongs, waiting for Ted’s instruction to remove the cooked items and place on raw ones. Charlie waited around the barbecue with the boys drifting in and out of their conversation. She kept a watchful eye on Blue and Fleur, who were deep in discussion and she was unnerved when she saw Blue look over at her and then easily bring his eyes back to Fleur. Jealousy was an unpleasant feeling. After a couple of minutes, George retrieved Charlie’s sausage and she shoved it back into the roll and bit into it savagely.

Charlie’s plans were unravelling fast as Ted, Fleur and Blue were chatting amiably on the veranda whilst she was reading Millie yet another bedtime story. Millie was fighting hard to stay awake and wasn’t going to admit defeat easily. She had been particularly clingy tonight and Charlie knew she wouldn’t give in to sleep and lose the one-to-one time she was relishing with Charlie. She stroked Millie’s cheek gently and whispered to her about the things they had done during the day and was thrilled to eventually see Millie’s breathing set into a steady rhythm. She waited a few more minutes and tried to order her own thoughts and think through what her approach to Blue was going to be. At last she watched Millie sleeping peacefully and banished the thoughts of how many more times she would have the privilege of observing this idyllic scene.

When Charlie finally returned to the others, only Ted and Fleur remained.

Ted answered her thoughts, ‘Blue had to go, something about an airport pick-up.’

‘What are the odds of you bumping into him here? He looks very different…’

‘With his clothes off,’ butted in Charlie.

‘I was going to say without so many layers. He’s offered to show me round the island the day after tomorrow,’ said Fleur, her demure smile at odds with her raised eyebrow and Charlie felt her emotional armour needed to be primed for battle.

Blue came sprinting across the drive and leapt up the steps, making Charlie jump.

‘Tropical rain storm coming!’ said Blue, as he belted past her and into the villa. Charlie lifted up her sunglasses and looked at the sky. Granted it was a bit grey and swirly but it would most likely pass. The children were happily playing in the pool so, even if it did rain, they wouldn’t be any wetter. She looked over to the doorway, where Blue stood beckoning her. She shrugged her shoulders at him; he was definitely over-reacting about this.

Blue pointed towards the sea and Charlie followed his gaze to the edge of the garden. She watched, utterly mesmerised, as a wall of rain streamed across the lawn like a floating curtain of water. There was a moment where half the garden was in torrential rain and the other dry; it was a sight to behold. Charlie was pulled from her trance by Blue shouting at her. She grabbed her paperback and wrapped it hastily in her towel before leaving her sun lounger. The rain reached the pool area and the pool occupants started shrieking. George and Eleanor were excited by it but Millie’s was an anxious scream. The raindrops were hard and insistent, stinging Charlie’s head as she ran to the poolside to scoop Millie out.

She ferried Millie into the doorway and Blue wrapped her in a towel. The other two stuck it out like some sort of endurance test until Eleanor finally cracked and, without a word, marched inside, leaving a trail of water like an independent raincloud. George kept diving under the water for relief. Charlie knew there was no way he was going to admit defeat now.

‘Need my ’brella,’ wailed Millie, as Blue pulled a face at his lack of comprehension.

‘Umbrella,’ said Charlie.

‘An umbrella wouldn’t do you a lot of good against this storm,’ said Blue, but Millie was still sobbing for it all the same.

They stood and watched the dollops of rain bounce high off the patio. Millie shivered although it still felt warm.

The storm was short and violent and the children were soon back in the water. After a few more minutes the clouds had departed and the only evidence of the storm were puddles and a renewed freshness in the air.

‘We’ll see you later,’ said Blue, ushering Fleur to the jeep. Charlie pretended not to notice and mumbled a ‘bye’ but she had taken in that Fleur’s outfit was very Audrey Hepburn and most definitely designed for maximum impact.

The day trundled by in an easy rhythm after the storm. Charlie heard Fleur’s laughter before she was even in the drive and she knew what it meant. She knew the tone and the intent; Fleur was on a full-on seduction offensive. Fleur and Blue had been out all day together, just the two of them. Had Fleur fallen for Blue’s thin charade of working lad made good? Perhaps it was the muscles that attracted Fleur time and again to such similar men. Charlie recalled that the suited variety, like Jonathan, were generally leaner on the muscle front.

The laughter grew closer and was now entwined with Blue’s voice, until they appeared on the steps.

‘You sound like you’ve had fun,’ said Charlie, trying to sound breezy.

‘It was totally amazing! I’ve eaten fresh pineapple, I’ve had a picnic on a deserted beach, fed a stingray and had the best time ever!’ said Fleur, her excitement evident. ‘I will update you on everything once I’ve had a shower.’ She turned her attention to Blue. ‘You’re a doll, thank you so much. I will see you tomorrow.’ She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and almost skipped inside.

Blue flopped down onto the sun lounger and stretched out, shielding his eyes from the waning sun with his forearm. Charlie looked at him, hoping for a bit more information.

‘Good day? Itinerary sounded familiar,’ said Charlie, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm.

Blue lifted his arm and opened one eye. ‘I’m not local. It’s the only route I know.’ He gave her his cheeky grin and she resisted the urge to smile back at him. He was seriously getting under her skin.

‘So, what are your credentials for running a boat tours company?’

‘I don’t have any, no qualifications as such, apart from the odd summer or two messing about with boats and jet skis when we were younger.’ He slipped his yo-yo out of his pocket and idly started to throw it back and forth, whilst continuing to talk. ‘I was running out of cash on Barbados; Sandy Lane uses it up quicker than pressing delete on your bank balance.’ Charlie wasn’t looking sympathetic but he continued anyway. ‘I got a couple of jobs moving boats around the islands. By the time I met Tigi I had a bit of a reputation…’ Charlie gave him an old-fashioned look. ‘…for my boat experience,’ he emphasised, ‘and the rest, as they say, is history.’

‘All worked out perfectly,’ said Charlie, trying not to be mesmerised by the yo-yo.

‘I’m a bit of a fraud, really. I’m expecting to be found out any day now.’

‘Someone once told me that the Ark was made by amateurs and the Titanic by professionals. Which one would you rather have sailed in?’

Blue laughed, ‘Fair point. I’ll try to remember that, but I don’t think I’ll repeat it to my customers, if you don’t mind.’

‘Did you want a drink?’

‘I’d love one,’ he replied, swinging his legs off the sun lounger and Charlie felt something zing inside her. ‘But I can’t. I need to get back, eat, shower and do an airport pick-up. Jumby are having boat staff problems,’ he explained as he gave the yo-yo a final flourish and returned it to his pocket.

‘Who’s Jumby?’ asked Charlie, although the name was familiar.

‘It’s the island resort off the north-east side…’

‘Where the big money people holiday,’ remembered Charlie.

‘You can come for the ride if you like. I could pick you up in about forty minutes?’

Charlie was wavering, although she knew Fleur would be fine to look after the children. She heard Fleur’s footsteps behind her.

‘Can I borrow your Victoria’s Secret shower gel?’ she asked, as she appeared briefly with a towel strategically wrapped around her.

‘Of course, help yourself,’ said Charlie and she watched as Fleur disappeared again. She turned back to Blue, who was looking at Fleur’s sashaying behind, and her decision was made. ‘Yes, I’ll come.’

Fleur wasn’t impressed with the thought of an evening on her own but if Blue needed a hand lugging cases for famous people that was definitely more up Charlie’s street than hers. She curled up with a sparkling water with a squeeze of fresh lime and listened to her phone messages. Charlie had said something about the phone signal being a bit ropey but Fleur wasn’t having a problem.

As she had predicted, there was a message from Rob offering to give up the flat and something about their drummer being offered a gig supporting a girl band that Rob was particularly disgruntled about. The boredom made her skip to the next message. There was no message left so she knew that would be her father. It beeped again and her mother’s voice washed over her.

‘Sweetie, please call me. I’m fretting. I know you can look after yourself but it doesn’t stop me worrying about you. I’m sorry to have called but I need to know that you are safe and with Charlie. Not that you can’t look after yourself… I love you.’ And she was gone. There was a long pause at the start of the next message.

‘Fleur, it’s Jonathan. I… I’m so sorry about what happened. I am completely in the wrong. I just want you to know I am truly sorry. I won’t bother you again… but you know where I am if you ever need anything. Anyway, I thought you might like this.’ There was a slight pause before the opening chords of a very familiar song started.

‘Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl.

With yellow feathers in her hair and dress cut down to there.

She would meringue and do the cha-cha.

And while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar.

Across the crowded floor, they worked from eight till four.

They were young and they had each other who could ask for more?’

But the sound of Barry Manilow’s ‘Copacabana’ stopped abruptly and the electronic voice announced that that was the end of the messages.

Fleur pouted and pulled the fluffy white bathrobe a little tighter. All these people were worried about her. How much longer would that continue? Perhaps that was what bothered her the most, that one day they would stop worrying, that they would leave her to it and let her loose. Was that what she was really scared of? Not the thought of people interfering in her life but of them not. Who had really ever stopped her from taking control of things? Her father, perhaps. But he wasn’t a bully, he was a man of action – if it needed doing he would get on and do it. He wasn’t like her mother who would neatly write the task on a list for the appropriate time.

She sipped her water. She envied Charlie, she always had. Charlie was permanently in control but then she never had the option of letting someone else take the lead for a change because there was nobody else in Charlie’s life. There had never been anyone she trusted enough to steer her safely through life whilst she was a passenger. She was always so brave, taking a tight grip on life and telling it how it was going to be. Who else but Charlie would risk so much to bring the children to this beautiful place?

She wasn’t the same as Charlie. In many ways they were opposites, but Fleur knew it was time to start making her own way. She felt a bit ashamed of herself for having run to Charlie in Antigua. It was another missed opportunity to stand on her own two feet and she sighed loudly. Fleur decided she would make a start by noting down each day what she had done for herself as well as what she had done for others because she was all too aware that that was another area in which she was lacking. Fleur zoned out of her thoughts and listened.

The tree frogs were humming their chorus, a mixture of chirrup and whistle. Paul McCartney and the frog chorus would have been proud. The noise was strangely melodic as if someone, somewhere, was dictating the tune. There must have been hundreds out tonight. However, they were nowhere to be seen but could be heard everywhere. Fleur had only ever seen one in her life when it had hopped up her leg in St Lucia and Poppy had insisted that it must have mistaken Fleur’s leg for a tree trunk. She snorted at the memory. She started to realise that this was what Charlie was trying to do. She was building memories for the children. Moments that they could recall at any time in the future that would make them snort and make them feel the love. It was starting to make a little more sense and things were beginning to get clearer.

She finished her drink and went to throw the slice of lime in the bush, but as she got closer so did the sound of a distinct solo performer. There, in the bush, was a very tiny light-brown speckled frog, no bigger than her thumb. The bubble of air inflating under its mouth, enabling him to make his contribution to the chorus. Fleur watched him for a bit, recorded him on her phone and went inside, taking with her the lime slice and another memory to store.

The airport pick-up was obviously easy money for Blue. He had collected Charlie and they had parked right outside the terminal. She had waited in the minibus and, moments later, Blue had appeared with an American couple and a trolley full of matching luggage. The couple were quite chatty so Charlie just sat in the passenger seat and listened as Blue charmed them with stories of the island. The launch was only a couple of minutes from the airport so they were soon whipping across the Caribbean Sea in a catamaran. Two of Jumby Bay’s usual crew were out of action so they had called on Blue as a reliable alternative to make the odd evening transfer.

Two members of uniformed staff were waiting at the Jumby Bay jetty as they moored up and greeted them all warmly. Charlie’s eyes were on stalks as she took in as much of what she could see as possible. A palm-tree-lined beach was in front of her but they were ten a penny in Antigua or three hundred and sixty-five to be precise. It was dark now and there were only a few lights on the beach, so it was difficult to see. There was a restaurant behind the palm trees and she could hear the hum of talking and laughter. From what she could make out, it looked like it had a roof but no sides, so that the sea breeze could gently fan the guests as they ate.

The Americans tipped Blue and the staff shook his hand before he boarded the catamaran again. Charlie watched as a couple, hand in hand, slipped out from behind a palm tree and walked along the beach towards them. Blue started the catamaran and it purred into life. He manoeuvred it carefully away from the jetty. The couple were nearer to them now and Charlie was peering at them closely, the man was fair-haired and heavily tattooed, the woman was slender and dark-haired.

‘They look a bit like the Beckhams,’ laughed Charlie, as the man on the beach waved at them.

‘Hiya, Blue, good to see you!’ called the man, in a higher pitch than expected.

‘You too, David!’ replied Blue, and Charlie could have sworn that her jaw actually hit the deck.

The excitement of the Jumby Bay trip was a great distraction and had provided them with a good source of conversation back to St Johns. Charlie had at last calmed down after the excitement of her celebrity encounter, although infuriatingly, Blue would not confirm who the couple were, citing confidentiality clauses and complete discretion whenever she pushed him on it. Their chatter had been easy and the spark Charlie had felt as Blue lifted her off the vessel had shocked her.

Now, back in the minibus and retracing their path back across the island, there was silence. It was a comfortable silence, interspersed with the odd glance and smile from Blue. Charlie could get a good look at him when he was driving without it being too obvious. There was only the merest hint of a similarity to Toby, the only feature they shared were those freakishly blue eyes. Blue had a more lived-in face despite his younger years. There was a scar on his chin that stood out white against his tanned skin and he had a firm, manly jawline. He was strikingly good looking. Blue gave her another glance and she shot her eyes back to the darkness ahead.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’ asked Blue.

Charlie chuckled and paused, wondering whether or not to reveal the truth of what she was thinking, but she decided against it. ‘I was thinking about tidying up the wardrobe, it’s a bit of a mess with both mine and Fleur’s clothes rammed in it.’