Page 34 of The Island Girls

‘Sounds perfect. That should be plenty of time. And I already know what I’d like us to do tomorrow,’ he said and grinned.

She questioned him with her frown.

‘Can we spend the day at Corfe Castle – I mean in the castle itself, not just the village?’ he asked and she had to laugh at his almost schoolboy eagerness to see the ruins.

‘That’s a great idea. You have your car here, I assume?’

‘Yes, I left it parked in one of the staff spaces at the pottery – very convenient.’

‘That’s fixed then. I’ll see you tonight,’ she said and kissed him goodbye as though it was something she’d been doing for decades, rather than hours.

By the end of their Saturday morning exploring the old castle, and after a bracing afternoon walk from the perfectly horseshoe-shaped bay of Lulworth Cove and across the cliffs to Durdle Door and back again, it seemed Paul was falling head over heels in love with Dorset.

‘This place is just magical, Rebekah,’ he cried as he stood on the clifftop admiring the gorgeously turquoise waters that crashed relentlessly below the white limestone cliff face. ‘I can’t believe I’ve never explored around here before. There is so much more to see!’

‘Exploring the world does that to you, I’ve found,’ she said as they started walking again. ‘It’s a bit like reading; you think that if you read all the books – you know, all the great works of literature, all those ones on the big lists – then you can tick that off: job done, books read. But it’s not like that at all because every book you read opens up another world of books and authors to discover. Travel and exploring is the same, for me; you go to see a place so you can say “been there, done that”, and all that happens is you discover at least another ten places there are to see with every new discovery. It’s infuriating and wonderful, all at once,’ she said and laughed.

‘So, tell me: where else do you want to go? What else do you want to see?’ he asked her.

‘Oh, everywhere. I’ve only really discovered a small part of Dorset while I’ve been in England and there is so much more – fishing coves in Cornwall, Dartmoor in Devon, and the Peak District in Yorkshire is stunning, so I hear, and that’s just a few spots in England. And then there is all of Europe too – Paris, Venice, Barcelona, Switzerland. I only just dipped my toes into everything that Queensland had to offer before I left and came here, but I did get to see some of the best National Parks – rainforests and reefs and wide, sandy beaches that go on forever,’ she said wistfully.

‘I should like to see Australia,’ he said.

‘I’d love to show you, Paul. I know you’d love it.’

That evening, back on the island, after they’d covered themselves in mozzie repellent and taken umbrellas in case of an evening shower, they took their seats on camp chairs and unpacked a picnic of cheese, grapes, crackers and a chilled bottle of Champagne to enjoy as they watched the play which, as usual for B.O.A.T., was brilliantly performed and delivered. In the interval, Rebekah saw a few of the other island staff and chastised herself for only now remembering that Ben would have been hoping to see her. She saw him in the distance and paused to summon the courage to do what she knew she must.

‘Ben!’ she called and watched his face light up when he saw her walking towards him. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling better – I heard you were a bit under the weather yesterday?’ she asked and saw him flinch. ‘Thank you for the ticket. It was very kind of you, but I actually already had one and I’m here with a friend. Well, more than a friend, really,’ she said making sure to wave in the direction of Paul who had his head stuck in the programme as he sipped a glass of wine. ‘I wasn’t able to get in touch to let you know, and so I gave the ticket to Luke – who was glad of it. I hope that was all right?’ She realised that she hadn’t given him a chance to object, but it was done. The poor guy did look crestfallen, but this was one of those occasions when it was better to be firm and fast. It wasn’t fair for him to think he had a chance, and she wished now she’d realised earlier that his gifts and attention were about more than mere friendship.

‘Who is he, then, Rebekah?’ Ben asked pointedly, frowning in Paul’s direction. ‘I’ve never seen him before, and I’ve known you for over two years now.’ The comment hit like the barbed tail of a stingray and knocked Rebekah’s confidence down several pegs.

‘He’s a friend from London,’ she said, realising as soon as the words left her lips that Ben knew full well that she had exactly zero friends in London. ‘I haven’t known him long, Ben, but his name is Paul. He’s a historian working at Poole Pottery, and he and I have become close. Very close,’ she said, hoping that would be the end of it.

‘So, he’s a boyfriend then?’

Heck, would he not let it go? Who did Ben think he was anyway: her big brother? Her protector?

‘I know it’s none of my business, Rebekah,’ he said as if he’d just read her mind, ‘but the thing is, I like you. I like you a lot. And I thought… I had hoped…’ He stopped and waved his hand dismissively and took a deep breath, looking up to her with a tight smile. ‘It doesn’t matter. I just hope he makes you happy,’ Ben said and walked away. As she watched him go, she couldn’t help think of Farmer Oak and wonder whether she’d just waved security and stability goodbye for the sake of fun and excitement that was more thrilling than any she’d known before.

She walked back to Paul and sat down, taking the refilled Champagne glass he offered her.

‘Who was your friend?’ he asked casually, and the word made Rebekah think deeply. She mulled it over for a few moments before she answered.

‘He’s one of the volunteers here on the island and he’s been bringing me presents – he brought the mussels we ate last Friday night – and I haven’t realised until very recently that he thought we could be more than friends. But I don’t know him. Not really. I’ve known him to speak to for two years, but I don’t fullyknowhim, not like I know you,’ she said, frowning as she tried to understand it herself just as she was explaining it.

‘Oh, you mean in the biblical sense?’ he said with a wink and an actual nudge in her ribs, making her laugh at herself.

‘No! I mean in the friend sense. I’ve only known you a week, Paul – with a very unwelcome gap in the middle – but it feels as if we’ve been friends forever, doesn’t it?’ she asked him, turning to look him full in the face.

‘Yes. Yes, it does,’ he said carefully, taking a sip of his Champagne and reaching out for her with his spare hand. ‘I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t know you were here, to be honest. And I want you to be my friend, always.’ She leant in to kiss him and then he added, whispering wickedly into her lips, ‘With some extra delicious benefits.’

On Sunday morning, they lay in bed facing one another and trying to make plans. Paul had to get back to London that afternoon for his regular rehearsal, and he had a solid week of work ahead of him, as well as mid-week rehearsals for his concert in Westminster next Saturday night. And Rebekah would be doing what she did day in and day out on the island home that she considered her own slice of paradise. But first, this morning, Paul had to spend another hour in the pottery collecting things before he left.

By the time they’d finished breakfast, there was a plan: Rebekah would go with him to the quay, wait while he finished at the pottery, then she’d take him on a walk through the old town to show him the back streets of the quay, the old church of St James’s, Market Street, and the Guildhall. They would have a walk in the park, and lunch on the quay, before he drove back to London, and she fetched some groceries and went back to the island.

An hour later, she was relaxing in a chair in the Poole Pottery offices, while Paul was sorting through some files he’d justhauled up from the basement storage room. He was wrangling them into a briefcase when he groaned aloud.

‘What’s the matter?’ Rebekah asked him.

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