After the Storm (15 page)

Owen laughed out loud:

‘I love that word “knickers”. It’s so very English – “knickers”.’

‘There
is
a launderette in town, if you can face it,’ Kim said.

‘I know what you mean. I hate launderettes. Have you noticed how they make your clothes smell of potato?’ Anna said.

Owen stood up.

‘No laundry today. We’re gonna have a day on Roatán’s finest beach. But first I need to register the boat with the harbour master. Give me an hour.’

The men were swimming and Kim and Anna were lying next to each other on a powder white beach in brilliant sunshine. They had helped each other apply sun cream and now lay in companionable silence as Anna read her way through
Bleak House
and Kim studied a glossy interiors magazine she had bought. It had photo features on the houses of the rich and famous. She turned the pages slowly taking in every detail.

‘Oh this one is awesome. That’s how I’d do my place if I had loads of money.’

She showed Anna the photos of a film star’s beachfront hacienda. The designer had used natural materials, wood and stone and even driftwood, to create the floors and staircases. There were designer chairs and tables that looked roughly hewn but had probably cost a king’s ransom. The window shutters were painted a Mediterranean blue.

‘I love that shade of blue,’ Kim said pointing at the shutters.

‘It is beautiful, very beautiful, but I’d feel like I was living in a film set,’ Anna said.

‘I’d be quite happy to live in a film set. Just think – nothing chipped and nothing stained ever again,’ Kim said.

‘That would make a change,’ Anna said.

‘Do you and Rob live together?’

‘Sort of, in a flat in North London, and believe me it looks nothing like that photo-spread.’

The men joined them and they picnicked on the beach on a large bag of shrimps and a fresh loaf they had bought on the way. They tore into the bread and shrimps. Then Kim took out her knife and sliced a large watermelon handing them pieces of the juicy red fruit.

‘You need a brilliant sun to enjoy this by. Doesn’t taste the same under a grey English sky,’ Rob said.

The couples separated each to their own palm tree. Owen sat against a tree and Kim sat between his legs. He played with her hair and stroked her earlobes. Rob and Anna curled up close on the ground under their tree and dozed in the afternoon heat.

‘Happy?’ he asked.

‘Yes, very.’

‘I told you it would work out. It was worth the long sail,’ he said.

It was a luminous evening. Owen and Anna were standing on the pontoon and he was showing her how to coil a rope. He swung the rope with immense grace, twisting it slightly on each revolution so it fell into perfect symmetrical hoops.

‘You make it look so easy,’ she said.

‘You have a go now.’

The rope was heavier then she expected and her attempt was pitiful.

‘Hopeless,’ she said.

He showed her how to do it again. He was a tall man and sometimes he could look ungainly, but now he looked perfectly at ease with his environment as he swung the rope effortlessly.

‘Come on, try again. It’s a skill that comes with practice.’

Kim joined them on the pontoon. She sat and watched the two of them for a few minutes.

‘Time to go see Viv,’ she said.

Vivienne’s Bar had a view of the harbour from which French Harbour took its name. It was a large traditional wooden building with a verandah built along its front. They pushed the door open and stood in a spacious comfortable saloon. There were men crowded around the bar and most of the tables were taken. Underneath the chattering and laughter they could hear blues music was playing. The tall windows had wooden blinds letting in slats of sunlight and these brought out the warm browns of the walls and the wooden floor. There were rattan armchairs grouped around tables at one end and tables for dining at the other. There was a second bar at the back more sparsely furnished which attracted the locals.

As they made their way through the crush Vivienne spotted them and moved from behind the long bar. She was a woman in her forties with thick dark hair looped up extravagantly with tortoiseshell combs. She had round brown eyes and exuded a warm friendly sensuality. She was wearing a red midi-skirt in soft material and it clung to her rounded hips. Her black top had a plunging neckline that offered glimpses of her magnificent breasts as she leaned forward. She hugged Kim tightly and then Owen.

‘I didn’t expect you back this way,’ she said.

She spoke with a French accent.

‘Our last trip,’ Kim said. ‘Rob and Anna here chartered the boat.’

Vivienne led them to a table.

‘It’s so busy tonight,’ Kim said.

‘Well I started this new thing. On midweek nights you get a beer or a small wine and a piece of tapas for two dollars. It’s proving very popular.’

Vivienne was a good businesswoman but seemed to be universally liked on the island. It was true what Owen had said; Kim did look on her as a role model. Vivienne told them that Gary was holding his annual hog roast out beyond Oak Ridge the next night and they should go along.

‘I don’t think we can go uninvited,’ Kim said.

‘I’ll call him and tell him you’re back. And I’ll say you’ve got two friends with you. You know Gary, he’s so hospitable.’

Kim explained that Gary was a Texan who had settled here and his house was the centre of the ex-pat community on this part of the island. They ordered beers and some of the tapas dishes and Vivienne went back to the bar.

‘She seems really nice,’ Anna said.

‘She’s a total treasure. I love her. The food is always so good here too. She does the best fish soup,’ Kim said.

‘And her accent?’

‘She’s half French and half Garifuna.’

Their plates of tapas arrived, fried squid, fried shrimp, spicy chorizo on ovals of bread. Rob leaned back with his bottle of beer and as Anna looked over at him she saw how the sun coming through the slats was creating shadows of his long eyelashes onto his cheeks. It was the first thing she had noticed about him when he spoke to her on the tube, his ridiculously long and thick eyelashes. She felt a squeeze of love towards him. They ordered another round of drinks and then a third one as the level of voices rose ever louder in the bar.

‘Do you know Rob’s mum is called Robin and she called her boy after her so that they are Robin and Robbie,’ Anna said.

Kim smiled.

‘That’s kinda cute.’

Rob grimaced.

‘And I love how you two met. That’s the
best
story,’ Kim said.

It was a story Rob liked to tell. It was romantic when you thought about it.

‘And she’s still my beautiful vampire,’ he said.

‘I guess I should take that as a compliment…’

Anna leaned in towards Kim:

‘How did you two meet?’

‘Oh I was in love with Owen since I was ten years old. He was best buddy with my older brother Jared and used to come to our house all the time. They’d shoot hoops in our yard and I’d stand on a chair at the window and watch them. He never noticed me once. It took another twelve years till he even noticed I had grown up and we got together.’

‘Best thing that ever happened to me,’ Owen said.

When it was time to go back to the boat, Owen and Kim strolled in front while Rob and Anna dawdled behind holding hands.

Kim was stretched out on her berth alone in the saloon and was thinking about how she and Owen had got together nine years before. She was twenty two and had recently started work at an upscale restaurant in Clearwater. They had to wear a red uniform which did nothing for Kim’s colouring, her dark blonde hair and slightly sallow skin. The head waitress there, Nicole, had short black hair, a shapely figure and she looked very good in the red uniform. Nicole had given Kim all the bad tables to wait on, the tables in the draughty spots or by the washrooms. Nicole of course had the best tables and made the most in tips. On her second Friday there the restaurant was full and everyone was ordering the Filet Mignon and Lobster Tail Special. Nicole came into the kitchen, saw two baked lobsters and steaks plated up and reached for them.

‘That’s Kim’s order,’ Manny the chef said.

She snapped at him:

‘My two are here all the time and spend a lot. You know they get the VIP treatment.’

She gave him a hard stare, swapped the tickets around, took the two plates and manoeuvred the door into the restaurant with her hip. Kim came in to collect her dishes.

‘Gonna be a few minutes more,’ Manny said.

She knew what had happened. Nicole had taken her dishes and now her customers would have to wait. She was furious. She understood the pecking order, but still it burned with her and she gave Manny a look.

The next night Kim was watching Manny as he made a Béarnaise sauce.

‘You like to cook?’ he said.

‘Yeah I do and I wanna know more.’

‘So stay behind tonight and I’ll show you how to make this sauce.’

She often stayed behind after that and over the months Manny taught her many things. When he got round to asking her out to the movies she was straight with him.

‘I’m kinda crazy about this guy.’

‘You dating him?’

‘Not yet…’

‘But you’re plannin’ to?’

‘One day, if I can make it happen. I’m sorry Manny. You’re the best. I’d never have lasted here without you.’

‘It’s OK,’ he said, but she could see that he was hurt.

‘Let’s go to the movies anyway,’ Kim said.

It was about three months later and Kim and an older waitress, Tina, were laying the tables for the evening rush. Tina was bitching about Nicole and her mean little tricks.

‘She’s a nasty one all right, and what bugs me is she’s going steady with this good-looking fella. I saw her out with him.’

‘Yeah?’ Kim said.

She was checking the salt shakers and filling the half-empty ones.

‘I expect she’ll be flashing a ring soon. He works at the same boatyard as my ex. Owen something…’ Tina said.

Kim’s stomach contracted violently.

‘Owen Adams?’ she was almost whispering.

‘Yeah, that’s it.’

Nicole came into the restaurant to check what they were doing and the talking stopped. Kim felt dizzy with shock and pain. She hurried to the bathroom and was sick in the toilet. She hated Nicole, who was always in a vicious mood these days. How could Owen have chosen
her
? She was good looking but so what? She was a twenty-four-carat bitch. She felt ashamed of her secret feelings then. What an idiot she had been to think that Owen would ever look at her. And it would be even harder to work alongside Nicole now.

Six months after that, one warm evening, she was sitting on the steps of the yard at her parents’ house crying bitterly. The gate opened and it was Owen.

‘Is Jared home?’

Then he saw that Kim was in tears.

‘What’s up Kimbo?’

He sat down on the steps next to her. She told him her good friend Manny was being deported. Immigration officials had turned up at the restaurant and checked up on him. He was a Puerto Rican islander and he didn’t have the right papers. He had told the boss he had a Spanish dad and an American mom and was a mainlander but it wasn’t true.

‘He’s my best friend at work and now he’s gone, just like that.’

‘That’s a tough rap. And does Nicole still work there?’

Her heart fluttered oddly. Surely he should know that?

‘Yeah she does.’

Kim picked up a stick and started to stab at the earth of the yard, making a hole in the ground as she brought Nicole’s face to mind.

‘Making mud pies?’ Owen said.

His voice was affectionate but Kim thought with despair he still thinks of me as Jared’s sweet little kid sister.

She said, not looking at him:

‘I’ve got no proof, but I’ve got this feeling and it’s a very strong feeling…’

She stopped. Should she go ahead and say it? She took a breath.

‘I think Nicole shopped Manny.’

She had to look up at him now. He registered what she had said and he made no defence of Nicole, just nodded. She felt an overwhelming need to rest her head on his shoulder, as lovers do. She fought the need and then she just gave in to it and rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him and it was the happiest moment of her life.

They were getting ready for Gary’s hog roast after another day of lazing on the beach. Kim had put on her orange sundress and gold sandals. She was sitting on the berth applying mascara as Anna came down in to the saloon.

‘You look so nice,’ Anna said.

‘Thanks, I don’t often get a chance to dress up.’

Anna went into the heads and splashed cold water on her face. In their cabin she found her newly washed jeans and pulled out the best top she had brought with her. It was a floaty chiffon smock in purple with pale grey swirls on it. She put on a pair of drop earrings with purple stones that Rob had bought her. She brushed her long dark hair.

They paid for a taxi to take them the eleven miles east to Oak Ridge. Gary’s house was a substantial Spanish style villa with a terraced garden extending nearly down to the shore. He seemed delighted to see them all. There were groups of expats standing around his garden, and a few local people there too. Gary, who had made a lot of money and wore it lightly, was well known on the island for his hospitality. He was also one of life’s enthusiasts. He told them this was his third hog roast and he was getting better at it each time he did it. There was far more to roasting a hog than you would think.

‘Is there?’ Rob said.

‘Oh yeah, a lot more. First I had to dig the pit. It has to be about one foot larger in every direction than the hog.’

He had addressed all this to Rob and now he went on:

‘I lined the pit with bricks to hold in the heat, and then I filled it with logs first thing this morning. You need about a foot of burning embers before you even start the cooking.’

Rob nodded.

‘Then I seasoned and wrapped my hog in layers of foil and wet burlap and put a heavy wire frame around it all. Three of my buddies had to help me lower it into the pit. He’s some brute.’