Page 110 of Mark

“I did it in three,” he boasts. “I left him to find his way back to his room.”

“You lot are sneaky,” I reply, but there’s respect in my voice. “I don’t even remember him being there.”

“You were dancing on the table with Charlotte when they arrived.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Is it like that for every night out you guys have?”

He chuckles. “Pretty much.”

I smile back. “Have you seen the videos on Facebook?”

He grimaces. “Look, I didn’t know they would edit it.”

“What? Why do you look like that? Is there something I don’t know?”

He pulls out his phone, messes with it for a minute, then hands it over to me. It’s not even his timeline. It’s his uncle Max’s. I click on the video, my eyes widening as Celine Dion’s, My Heart Will Go On echoes through the speaker. There aren’t any lyrics, just the tune. The video is of Max on a deck chair in the pool, wearing some sort of skirt and life jacket. I’m in the water, clutching his hands. “I’ll never let go, Rose. I’ll never let go,” he rasps before I sink into the water.

“Please tell me this didn’t happen,” I plead.

“Oh, it did,” he replies, taking the phone back.

“Why am I the one in the water and not on the deck chair?” I question.

“He wants to submit it as a short story from a male’s point of view.”

“Your uncle is nuts.”

“So are you. You are the one who tried to prove that both of them could have fitted on the damn door.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you going to Pig Beach today?”

“Yeah. You are still coming right?”

“I suppose,” I reply.

“Good, now can we go eat because I’m starving?”

He gets up, reaching out a hand, and I take it, letting him pull me up. “When are you not hungry?”

He sweeps me up into his arms. “Never!”

“Put me down,” I cry. “Why are you carrying me?”

“Because I can’t trust you won’t run off again.”

“So needy,” I tease.

And who would have thought it.

Mark Carter. Needy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Mark

A rhythmic explosion of drums, cow bells and horns echo through the air. Masses of women and men parade down the street, dancing and singing, whilst a few are blowing fire from out of their enclosed fists.

Most of my family are on the beach, partaking in the maypole ribbon dance. I take Freya’s hand, swinging her around as we dance through the crowd. This is the happiest I’ve seen her sober since we both arrived on the cruise.

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