Page 78 of One Summer

He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then shuts it, clearly thinking better of whatever he was about to say.

MAY

Sixty-Four

Cart

It’s only 6 a.m., but I can’t sleep, so I make myself a coffee, put on joggers beneath my nightshirt, as well as my longest, puffiest coat, and take my coffee for a walk.

The sun is already up, and the birds are trying to express themselves through hideously loud song. I know I’m irritable when I find birdsong annoying – that’s always been the litmus test – because birdsong is one of my favourite things in the world.

I sink down on an old wall and sip my coffee. The jagged stone digs into my thighs and a couple of ants find their way onto my bare ankles. I should move. This is uncomfortable. The ants are walking up my shins in erratic patterns and they’re probably going to start biting me at any moment.

I’m just thinking about flicking them off, one at a time – and carefully, because ants are such crucial pollinators of wildflowers – when I feel a rumble and see a blur of motion. Two men in a golf cart are hammering towards me. Judging by the raucous shouting, I would hazard a guess that they are both steaming drunk. This impression is only strengthened as they get closer to me, and I see that they are both swigging from cans of lager. I also see that one of them is Joshua and the other – who has a suspicion of ‘tank driver’ about him – I recognise as Billy Bound, the guy who gave me a lift in his fishing boat to the island.

Joshua is driving the golf cart, and he takes a corner so swiftly that Billy falls out. He lands on his backside with an audible ‘oof’, and mumbles obscenities at Joshua, who is coming back around to collect him.

‘Dad, you maniac, I said HOLD ON!’ Joshua shouts.

Dad? Billy told me he was going to visit his son; he must have meant Joshua. Small world.

‘And I said SLOW DOWN,’ Billy bellows.

‘Well, why weren’t you holding on?’

‘I was holding my can of beer.’

Joshua realises it’s me and breaks into a smile. I’m suddenly aware of my wild bed hair and ketchup-stained nightshirt.

‘Are you okay?’ I say to Billy, who’s sitting on the cold ground, alternately rubbing his knees and lower back. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’

‘I don’t think I’ve improved my arthritis.’

Joshua hops off the cart and comes over to me. He reaches out to touch my arm, where a tiny beetle is crawling. He takes it onto his own finger and deposits it onto a nearby leaf, then yawns monstrously, breathing alcoholic vapours into my face.

‘You’re starting early,’ I say. ‘It’s not even six-thirty.’

‘Haven’t gone to bed yet.’

‘We’re on a pub crawl,’ Billy says, beaming.

This confuses me somewhat. ‘There’s only two pubs on the island, and they both close at 11 p.m.’

‘Yeah, but lock-ins happen… if you know the right people, and we know Maud. It’s been a cracking night,’ Joshua says, with a wink. ‘One for the books.’

‘Would’ve been even better if this doughball didn’t just throw me out of the golf cart,’ Billy says. ‘Don’t lose your bottle, son. Do it now.’

‘Do what?’ I ask.

‘Ah … I was just wondering if you were ready to go on that date with me. I didn’t get your number, so I thought I could now, if you’re okay with that, and if you have your phone handy?’

He doesn’t trail off, doesn’t pad it out. He just waits for my answer.

Despite my generalised sexual frustration – made evident by the fact that I briefly found Caleb attractive – I’m not sure I’m ready to date again, not even with a smoking-hot surfer dude who has a surprisingly heart-warming relationship with his father. On the other hand, what the hell.

‘I’m up for that,’ I say, and we swap numbers while Billy smiles drunkenly at us from the ground. Together, we both haul him up and deposit him back inside the golf cart.

By the time I’ve walked back to the house, admittedly quite slowly, there’s already a text message from Joshua on my phone.

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