A Family Holiday (25 page)

‘That’s a bit OCD.’

‘If I had a penny for every time someone said I had OCD…’ she paused as if thinking, ‘I’d have eight hundred and seventeen pennies.’

‘Oh, very clever,’ laughed Blue, reaching out and squeezing her hand. The contact made her jolt, she hated not being able to control her reactions.

‘Not my joke, I’m afraid, it was unashamedly stolen from someone I once knew.’ More silence followed. ‘I know it’s a touchy subject, but can we talk?’ asked Charlie.

‘About us?’ asked Blue, looking at Charlie and hitting a massive pothole, making the bus judder.

‘Um, no, Blue, about what’s likely to happen to the children when we have to go back to London?’

There was a long pause and it took a lot of patience for her to sit it out.

‘I’m not sure what you mean, and I really don’t want to sound harsh, but Ruth is going to be their guardian now and you need to find another job,’ he said at last.

‘Well,’ she said, taking a big breath, ‘she has to get through the assessment first and if she isn’t successful they would go into care.’ It took more effort than she had anticipated spelling it out. ‘Even if she does pass muster as guardian I could still see them ending up with Social Services when it all gets too much for her, as I’m sure it will.’

‘That’s a bit dramatic!’ he said, giving a brief chuckle before catching sight of Charlie’s face.

‘All I’m asking is that you rethink being their guardian. That way I can keep my job, me and the children can all go back to London, and you can stay here and carry on as before. You don’t need to do anything else except visit every now and then. I’m just saying think about it.’

More silence suffocated the air and Charlie opened her window. As the stifling silence continued she decided to call time on the conversation and mentally rearrange her ‘Kipper List’ instead.

There was something comforting about snuggling up in bed next to Fleur. It reminded Charlie of when she had been allowed to stay over at Fleur’s house as a child and the secure feeling of being tucked in at night. Fleur had always wanted to talk into the small hours back then and that hadn’t changed. Whilst the going to sleep was a calming feeling, the waking up next to her was an irritating one. It niggled Charlie that Fleur was still there. That she had got on a plane and appeared without any warning was typical Fleur. Whilst Fleur was doing her own thing she was still slap bang in the middle of the memories Charlie was trying so hard to create for the children. She slunk out of bed and went in search of breakfast.

As she shut the bedroom door behind her, she saw Eleanor sitting on the stairs. ‘You okay?’ she asked and Eleanor shrugged.

‘Had some dreams, that’s all.’

‘Bad ones?’ asked Charlie, combing her fingers through her bed-wrecked hair as she sat down next to Eleanor.

‘Um, no. They were good ones about Mum. She was making clothes for Wriggly and he wouldn’t wear the hat and it was funny,’ a very brief smile broke her story.

‘She’ll always be a part of you. In your dreams and in your thoughts,’ said Charlie.

‘I know,’ said Eleanor. ‘Let’s have pancakes for breakfast,’ she added, taking Charlie’s hand and clutching it all the way to the kitchen.

After breakfast Eleanor sat on the balcony with her legs dangling through the railings, her hands gripping them until her fingers turned white. Charlie was watching her from the gardens below and although she couldn’t see the tears she knew they were there. Eleanor was staring out to sea, her legs swaying to an unheard rhythm. On the whole, Eleanor was brighter here and her sad days were fewer, but they were still there, and today was going to be one of them. Charlie knew she couldn’t jolly Eleanor out of it and, to be honest, she didn’t want to, Charlie knew too well the long-term damage of hiding your feelings. She had spent half her life catching her feelings like flailing butterflies and trapping them in imaginary glass jars; locking them away. It was far better to set them free.

Eleanor became aware of Charlie, her grip loosened and she turned her gaze. The tiniest flicker of a smile danced across her lips. Charlie smiled back and walked off, to leave Eleanor with her thoughts. What they had planned for later would hopefully cheer her up but, for now, it was best that she had some time to herself.

Inside, Charlie found George lying on the sofa in the TV room.

‘Hiya, matey. You want a drink?’

‘Noooo,’ came the sighed response.

‘You all right?’

‘Bored,’ he said, without diverting his eyes from the ceiling.

Charlie almost reeled out a speech about how lucky they were to be here and how could he possibly be bored, but instead opted for a more diplomatic approach. ‘Why’s that?’ George shrugged. ‘Is it because Ted’s working?’ George didn’t answer her. It hadn’t passed her by how close the two boys had become and, whilst the children strengthening their connections was exactly what she wanted to happen, she hadn’t foreseen the obvious downside that the more connected the children were the harder it would be to tear them apart.

‘Sure you won’t have that drink? I was going to do banana milkshakes.’

‘Oh-kay, then. A large one please.’

They had decided to have a change from their routine, on Berta’s advice, as the excitement of the annual Antigua carnival was building and it was a good day to go to St Johns and see the floats being built and hear the bands. So, the morning was to be spent around the hotel pool and beach and then they were off to St Johns after lunch.

As they reached the beach she saw Blue was collecting a cool box of drinks from the pool bar and they exchanged the briefest of acknowledgements. Charlie really wished she knew where she stood with Blue. It all felt such a mess and their time on Antigua was running out. Just over a week left. She could practically feel the clock ticking.

Blue came over and plonked down the cool box. ‘With Tigi and Ted on the boat I’m doing a bespoke island tour.’

‘Won’t you get lost if it’s not the only tour you know?’ teased Charlie.

‘I’ll make it a mystery tour. It’s only a couple of hours, so I’ll be back later.’

Charlie could hear the volume rising behind her and knew she had to intervene with the children before it reached the point of no return. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to Blue. ‘Millie, stop pushing people in the swimming pool and come here please.’ Millie blew a raspberry and, gripping her swim ring and favourite yellow bucket, she jumped into the pool.

Charlie called George and Eleanor over. ‘Right, you two, these are the rules: no shouting, no sand in the pool, no running and no drowning each other.’ She turned her attention back to Blue, who was staring at the pool and, despite his tan, looked a little pale. ‘You okay?’

Blue came back to the present and blinked at her, ‘Is Millie all right?’

Charlie turned to watch Millie proficiently doggy paddling about and gulping down pool water as she did so. ‘If she’d let go of the bucket she’d be fine. George, help her, would you?’

Blue was still watching Millie, although he spoke to Charlie. ‘Berta said you wanted to see the bands. If you like, I’ll pick you up at about one to go to town.’

‘Great, see you later,’ and she watched Blue walk off across the sand. He looked sad, somehow, and didn’t have his usual energy. It was nice to watch him when he wasn’t aware of it, her eyes following him until he stepped off the beach and was gone and she exhaled slowly.

Charlie was sorting the towels out when Fleur appeared, and they pulled two sun loungers close to the pool and settled down to read. There was a period of tranquillity where the splashing ebbed into the distance, the sun warmed their skin and the pages turned.

There was a sudden bout of shouting from the pool and Charlie pulled her head out of her book to see a mass exodus of people from it. Lithe men were hauling themselves out, ladies were queuing at the steps and others were doing speed breaststroke. Children were crying and Millie was doing a frantic doggy paddle towards the deep end, despite being weighed down by the yellow bucket. Eleanor and George were nowhere to be seen. She scanned the pool for the source of the alarm and her eyes found something brown and turd-shaped floating in the middle of the pool.

‘Poo!’ spluttered Millie from the pool.

‘Oh, dear God,’ said Fleur, seeing the offending item at the same time, ‘is it one of Millie’s?’

‘I can’t really tell from this distance and, trust me, they all look the same.’

Charlie’s acute hearing tuned into nearby giggling and she spun around to see a mop of fair hair bob down behind a bush. ‘George!’ she yelled and he came out clutching his sides for support. Eleanor appeared too and they erupted into hysterical laughter. A member of staff was hurrying towards the pool and Charlie could see how this was going to end.

‘George, unless you want us banned from here, be the hero and scoop that up in Millie’s bucket. Quick!’

Charlie hauled a choking Millie out of the pool and handed George the bucket. He threw it back in and dived in after it. Fleur was quick to intercept the member of staff and to highlight George’s heroics.

‘He’s very brave, I wouldn’t go near it. That water is contaminated now. Goodness knows what diseases you could catch from swimming in there.’

George looked suitably disgusted as he approached the floater and scooped it into the bucket. He got out of the pool and carried the bucket at arm’s length and presented it to the member of staff. They all peered into the bucket, apart from George, who was excelling in his acting skills by pulling a face and looking over his left shoulder so as not to make eye contact with anyone or look at the bucket contents.

The member of staff spoke first, ‘It looks like a… candy bar.’

Fleur’s face showed recognition and she started to speak. ‘It looks like a Mar…’

‘Chocolate bar we call it, but I think you’re right. Well done you!’ interrupted Charlie, patting the man warmly on the back. ‘That’s good news, no need to clean the pool. Anyway I think we need to be packing up. Too much excitement for one day,’ she said, folding towels rapidly.

George handed the man the bucket. ‘Do you need this for evidence or something? ’cause my little sister will want her bucket back.’ A shivering Millie stood next to him, looking anxious.

By the time they got back to the villa, they were all laughing. Charlie had got over her crossness quickly and, despite not being a fan of toilet humour, even Fleur could see the funny side.

‘When you gave me the Mars Bar George knew straight away what we should do with it,’ said Eleanor to Fleur.

‘Oh, so it’s my fault, is it? Thanks a bunch,’ said Fleur as she started to chase them into the drive.

Despite the warnings from Blue nothing quite prepared them for the Antigua carnival. Different parts of it took place over different days, hundreds of people lined the streets and there were crowds everywhere. Everyone was dancing and, apart from the flamboyant coloured outfits of those in the parade, it would be difficult to tell who was in the carnival and who was there enjoying it. It was like one huge party that had spilled out onto the streets and everyone was invited.

The noise was astounding – huge trucks with bands performing live were trundled through the streets with speakers blaring at full tilt. Millie very quickly commandeered Ted’s headphones in an attempt to block out some of the noise and she clung to Charlie. All the music had rhythm but some was more enticing than others and a few times Millie was persuaded to dance. The smaller floats had concentrated more on colour and design than volume and these appealed to Millie; the fact that their occupants waved back was the best thing ever. She particularly liked Miss Antigua, who she thought was a princess.

Blue found someone doing face-painting and Eleanor chose to have some flowers painted on her arm and hand as she felt she was getting a bit too old for face paints. Millie followed suit but alarmed the young lady when she was asked what she would like and she asked for ‘Pooh on my hand, please.’

‘These children have some sort of poo obsession today,’ said Fleur, rolling her eyes.

Ted supervised a hot-dog run with George and they returned with giant sausages overhanging the rolls, which reduced Charlie and Blue to childish giggles but nobody else knew why. They nearly lost Millie and Eleanor to a troupe of cheerleaders. Especially when they spotted Esther at the back. Ted looked like he wanted to run when Esther waved her pom-poms at him. He gave her a shy wave and Blue, Charlie and Fleur all started whistling and acting like teenagers. Ted studiously ignored them.

Charlie heard the distinct sound of a steel band and grabbed Blue’s arm in delight and then quickly let go.

‘Sorry, I get so excited when I hear a steel band. It’s so silly,’ she said, taking her hair out of its ponytail before tying it back up again for no reason other than to occupy her hands and to stop them straying in Blue’s direction.

‘It’s not silly,’ shouted Blue over the noise, ‘there’s something evocative about them. I feel the same,’ he said, but Charlie gave him a look that said she doubted him. ‘Honest! Look,’ he said, starting to dance to the rhythm.

As the steel band’s sound took over from the last band, Charlie found herself dancing. But when she turned to Blue she found that Fleur was already there, instigating some sort of hip-bumping thing with him.

After a good hour, Fleur joined Millie’s camp and announced she had a headache so they decided to leave the giant street party and head back to the villa. Millie insisted on sitting with Charlie on the way home, so Charlie was relegated to the back of the jeep and Fleur rode shotgun with Blue. The motion of the jeep sent Millie off to sleep and Charlie found herself dozing off too. Before long they were back at the villa, tired and happy.

Eleanor had decided during the trip that she needed more shells, so a reconnaissance party consisting of Eleanor, Millie, Charlie and Blue headed for the beach whilst Fleur and the boys chilled out at the villa. Millie clutched Charlie’s hand on one side and her yellow bucket on the other.

The beach was a little breezier than it had been and that meant there were small waves breaking in long formation ripples on the sand, a white lace edge to each wave instead of the previous calm, which seemed to breathe new life into the beach. The girls got engrossed in shell-collecting as Blue and Charlie strolled ahead. Charlie carried her flip-flops and paddled in the warm water. It seemed even warmer than it had been and it lapped gently over her feet as they sank into the wet sand with each leisurely step.

‘Thanks for taking us all to the carnival today. It was kind.’

‘You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself.’ He paused. ‘I know something is bothering you. Come on, out with it,’ said Blue.

‘Just the usual,’ she said, breathing in deeply.

‘Knowing my past, I’m a terrible choice as guardian.’

‘Look, Blue, I know I don’t know everything that happened, but you have to move on from all of that. It was a long time ago. Don’t ruin the children’s future because you’re still hung up on the past.’

‘You talk about me hanging on to the past but what about you and that tattoo?’

‘What?’ asked Charlie, feeling disheartened that he’d derailed the conversation.

‘I think we’re all agreed that it’s hideous, so why do you keep it? Is it some sort of punishment for
your
past?’

‘Spare me the amateur psychology!’ Although his theory did come very close to the truth.

‘Get it removed, they can laser them off these days, or a skilled tattooist could easily make it into something prettier.’

‘Like what exactly?’

‘I don’t know. A butterfly?’ He shrugged.

‘Do I look like a butterfly kind of person to you?’ said Charlie, a smirk escaping as she put her hands on her hips.

‘Yeah, I think you could be.’ Blue put his arm around her waist and they walked on.

‘If I get the tattoo sorted would you consider being guardian?’ Charlie bit her thumbnail. It was a very unlikely long shot, but that was all she was left with now.