Page 28 of Stuck in Paradise with You

I follow him and snatch the ball from his arms, handing it to Noah, who’s waiting on the center spot opposite Henry for kick off.

‘It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, Joe.’ I’m rattled because I’m rattled and it’s plain as day that I’m rattled.

MaybeIneed a massage.

‘How come she’s having a massage?’ I ask, receiving the ball from Henry and passing it with the side of my foot on to Noah, whist Toby tries to intercept but instead falls in a heap on the sand, jumps up, brushes himself off, and keeps on running. He has Joe’s unrelenting energy.

Jenny has taken the ball from Henry and passes it to Joe, who dribbles toward me. I soften my knees, ready to tackle him.

‘Because she wants to leave and Greta was still around after my massage earlier, so I persuaded Carrie to have a treatment, relax and think on it. I can’t get the jet down from New York until tomorrow anyway, and there isn’t a commercial flight sooner.’

He kicks the ball, hoping to find Roy, but I stick out a foot and take it back, dribbling until I can kick it through the air toward Dionne, who uses her hands to catch it and bring it down to her feet.

‘Daddy! Dee touched it with her fingers!’ Toby shouts.

‘Don’t worry about it, buddy. You get a free pass now to touch it with your fingers too. Use it to your advantage,’ Joe tells his son. Then to me, he says, ‘She blamed wanting to leave on the storm but I’m pretty sure the only storm in her teacup is you, big fella.’

The ball comes to me from Glen and I steady it beneath one foot, unable to play and think at the same time. ‘So she’s leaving tomorrow now? Instead of Friday?’

I don’t know why I feel blindsided by this but I do. It’s a good thing. A great thing. All my issues with her can depart on the plane she leaves on. Fly away and disappear into the clouds, just like she did last time.

‘You bothered?’ Joe asks.

‘Paha. No.’ I sound as petulant as Toby. ‘It’s not that I’m bothered. It’s just… she was supposed to be here until Friday, that’s all. Something might come up, from our meeting today. I might think of something, a question, and it’s always easier to bat these things out face-to-face.’

‘Aha, yeah.’

As I glower at Joe, Toby sneaks up behind me and kicks the ball from under my foot, but Noah steals it from him and is running with it toward our goal line. Jenny darts forward to play keeper.

‘Well, I haven’t put the wheels in motion to get the jet, yet.’

Great, now I look like I want him to keep her here.

‘Yeah, well, you should. Good riddance. Get Eric back.’

I like Eric. Balding head, hairy neck poking out of the top of his crinkled shirts, pretentious yet dull man with whom I have no past and in whom I have no romantic interest.

Noah scores and everyone on the beach cheers, regardless of whose side we’re on. He runs by me and I offer him a fist pump.

We take the ball back to the center and kick off again. Toby wins the kick-off but his time with the ball is short-lived becauseNoah tackles him and kicks the ball to Henry, who passes to me. I pass back to Noah, who runs around Joe, leaving him tangled in his own feet and falling on the floor.

I hotfoot it to the other end of our pitch, out on the sideline nearest the sea, the hillside and resort in my view. I shout for the ball, arms in the air. Noah passes to Henry.

Then I’m stunned to stationary, rooted to the spot, arms frozen in the air, by the sight of a tall redhaired woman, with curves everywhere a man could wish for. She steps out of her infinity pool and onto the decking of her pod, overlooking the beach and our game, wearing only an emerald-green bikini, her long wet locks flowing down her naked shoulders.

Bam.

‘What the fuck?’ I’m struck flush in the face by the soccer ball. My legs buckle beneath me and I’m left in a heap on the floor, holding my nose.

‘Watch your language!’ Ella shouts, not at all concerned that I might have broken my nose.

I can hear Noah and Toby laughing as I groan and roll onto my back, opening my eyes to see Henry hovering over me. ‘Sugar, sorry, Luke. You asked for the ball.’

‘Is it broken?’ I ask, daring to peel my hand away from my nose. Thankfully, my shades have remained intact, though their digging into my nose hasn’t helped.

‘Men,’ Jenny says, now also leaning over me, hands on hips. ‘It’s a soccer ball, not a shot put. You’re fine.’

I feel myself scowling. Maybe she’s right, my nose is unlikely to be broken, but my pride… I can only bear to look through one eye up to Carrie’s pod. She’s no longer there and I really hope she didn’t see.

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