Page 33 of The Island Girls

‘Coming here last night was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life,’ he said and leant across to kiss her on the head.

‘I actually think the best decision you’ve ever made was lying down in the heather last Friday afternoon and falling asleep there so that you became marooned on my island and I had to rescue you from the killer midges in the middle of the night. Notexactly a best decision in the traditional sense, I give you that, but it had a magnificent outcome.’ She laughed, and he laughed with her.

‘I have food for breakfast, but I think we slept too late for that,’ he said sadly.

‘We did. But I have a morning break around 11a.m. I could come and see you then, if you’re happy to wait and call it brunch?’ she said, looking to him hopefully.

‘Brunch with you would be perfect. I’ll be waiting.’

After she’d dressed and had risked one last long, amazingly wonderful kiss, just inside the door of the cottage, she put on her walking shoes and scampered up to Rose Cottage feeling as sprightly and excited as the red squirrels always seemed. Everything looked fresh and the weekend ahead was now full of thrilling possibilities. She opened the front door and went to run upstairs for a quick shower and change into her ranger’s uniform, when she caught sight of the ticket and note on her table where she’d left them the night before. Ben. She had to face Ben today, and she was going to have to be firm. But his sweetness, she knew, was going to make it difficult.Rip off the sticking plaster fast, she told herself. It was the only way.

At the island reception, all was normal for a busy Friday morning in summer: the staff and volunteers all arrived on the first boat from Sandbanks, and shortly afterwards, theIsland Maidarrived from the quay, full to the brim with happy day-trippers. There were families with children – all tucking into their sandwiches before they’d even got off the boat – couples wearing serious walking gear who were obviously intent on covering every inch of the island in one day, and seniors who wanted a gentle stroll, a look in the visitors’ centre and a lovely lunch in the café in the shadow of the castle.

Rebekah busied herself at one of the ticket stations, giving every new arrival a beaming smile and a warm Brownsea Island greeting.

‘Hi! Welcome! Have you been to the island before?’ she asked as she got the till ready to take the fee.

‘No, first time today for us, and we’re hoping to see our first red squirrels.’

‘Ah, lovely, well you’re going to have a wonderful day. And are you members of the National Trust?’ Rebekah recorded their membership number and gave them a receipt for the ferry ride, handing the visitors a map of the island and a ferry timetable.

‘There’s a perfect place to spot the squirrels just along the path before you get to the church, but they might be a bit shy today – we have a lot of visitors for the play, you see, and they don’t like too much company. Plenty of places for picnicking wherever you like,’ she said with a nod to the big picnic bag the gentleman carried over one shoulder, ‘and one of our volunteers will be taking walking tours on the hour between ten and three, from just in front of the visitor’s centre around the corner.’

‘All sounds wonderful – thank you.’ The couple beamed as they made their way through reception and Rebekah greeted the next family.

‘Hi! Welcome! Have you been to the island before?’

Once the whole boatload of visitors had been welcomed, Rebekah left the other staff while she went to start her ranger rounds, checking in first at the hides beside the lagoon. There were already a number of birdwatchers taking up positions and she watched as a kingfisher swooped from a low tree branch across the edge of the lagoon to snap up a dragonfly. Next job was a hike out to Maryland where she needed to check on the number of rhododendrons and meet a representative from the Dorset Wildlife Trust who was bringing over some workers next week to continue clearing the area.

By the time that was done, it was 10.40a.m. and she still had a solid half an hour’s walk to get back to the cottage by the quay. She set off at a brisk pace and then, when she knew nobody was around and she wouldn’t cause any alarm, broke into a trot, laughing at herself and the urgency of getting back in time for her brunch date. Just as she passed the visitors’ centre, she saw the 11a.m. walking tour setting off, and realised that one of the ticket staff was leading the tour and not Ben, who was the volunteer rostered on for today. She thought for a moment about stopping to ask if anyone knew where he was, but decided to leave it for later. She ducked into the small staff lunchroom and explained to her team that she’d be having her break with a friend who’d made a surprise visit to the Customs House Cottage.

‘Not a surprise to us, Bek,’ said Luke with a wink. ‘The fellows on theIsland Maidlet us know – they brought him here last night?’ he continued as she felt her jaw hanging open. Of course. They would have been watching – and they’d brought his groceries over earlier – and they must have seen them kiss on the quay when Paul arrived. So, not such a well-kept secret after all. Everyone who worked on the island probably knew by now that Rebekah had spent the night in the Custom House Cottage with a man named Paul, who’d come down from London yesterday. She couldn’t think of anything to say – and asked herself if there was anything she needed to say anyway. She just nodded and turned to leave.

‘Shame for poor Ben, though,’ Luke continued, and Rebekah stopped in the doorway, looking over her shoulder.

‘Ben?’ she asked.

‘Poor lad’ll be beaten up over it I ’spect. Still, your choice, Bek,’ he said in his thick Dorset accent, and in every way made her feel as though she had deliberately chosen to break the heart of someone whom she had never intended to encourage.

‘Where is he, by the way?’ she asked. ‘Wasn’t he rostered on today?’

‘Called in sick. Probably just ’ad a few too many down the Lord Nelson last night,’ he said in a way that Rebekah knew was probably meant to reassure her that she wasn’t to blame, though it had the opposite effect.

She just nodded curtly in reply and went off to find Paul, rapping the door twice and then opening it and going straight in.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she said, noticing it was now twenty past eleven. ‘Sometimes, things on this island just don’t go to plan in the usual way you might expect for some other jobs,’ she explained.

‘That’s okay. I put it down to island time,’ he said with smile. ‘I’ve warmed some pastries, and also made up some hollandaise sauce. Do you like eggs Benedict?’ he asked as he switched on the coffee machine and poured two glasses of orange juice.

‘Oh, yum! Sounds like a feast, and yes, please, I love eggs Benedict, but I only have half an hour to spare,’ she said, anxious that she might spoil his plans.

‘That’s okay. The time-consuming part is done. Carry these things to the table, would you, and I’ll poach the eggs. Help yourself to a pastry.’

‘Mmm, delicious – thank you,’ Rebekah said as she wiped her mouth and swallowed the last of the delicious cup of coffee he’d made her. ‘So, what are your plans for the rest of the weekend? You did say you have something else to do over at the pottery?’

‘My plans are to spend every single moment possible with you,’ he said, with a smile that shone from his eyes and made her sigh. ‘But I do need to go to the pottery as well. They’vediscovered an old filing cabinet in a storage room that no one realised was there. They think it could have been hidden behind their archive shelving since the war. It looks to be some staff records, but some of the names don’t tie up with any others we’ve found so far,’ he explained.

‘That sounds interesting. I’ll be busy here now until around five o’clock, so you could go over this afternoon on the half-past-twelve boat and come back on the half-past-four one, if that would be long enough? That way, we can be as free as we like all day tomorrow, until the play in the evening of course,’ Rebekah said.

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