Page 113 of That Island Feeling

It’s now completely dark, our surroundings illuminated only by the gentle glow of nearby boats. A lively murmur drifts from upstream, where families and other couples are enjoying the balmy evening along the riverbank. It feels both strange to be back on Pearl Island and like the most normal thing in the world.

‘What about your dad?’ Jack asks, stroking my hair. ‘Taylor said he was found safe where he used to work. I was so relieved to hear that. Is he doing okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, feeling a rush of relief at the memory. ‘He’s fine, thank you. It was so awful, but it also ended up being a good lesson for me. I need to learn to share the load with Toby more. It’s not him that’s been the issue, it’s me. But no more excuses.’

‘I like the sound of that. More time for Andie.’

‘Maybe more time for Andie and Jack, too?’ I murmur and lift my head to gauge Jack’s reaction, but he’s turned to look over his shoulder at Charlie Farleys, where a flock of noisy seagulls have congregated.

‘Damn it. I just realised I haven’t locked up. Shit, sorry. I was listening,’ he mutters, swivelling his head from me back to Charlie’s, then back again, as if torn between me and his responsibility to Charlie.

‘I’d welcome a break from this heat, and I could actually use a knife,’ I say, retrieving a wild pearl oyster from my pocket and holding it out to him.

‘Oh hello, where’d you get that beauty?’ He grins.

‘That’s for me to know.’ I wiggle my eyebrows mysteriously. Charlie had proved very useful.

We gather the rug and our rubbish and head into Charlie Farleys. Jack locks the door behind us and suddenly I’m back at The Oyster House. Although the rustic decor is different from the opulent charm of the restaurant, I bet we could still do some serious damage in here.

‘Hey – you break, you buy,’ Jack says, reading my thoughts. I realise that I’m standing near the shelf holding his oyster-shell pieces.

‘I was planning on it, anyway,’ I retort. ‘I happen to know the artist.’ I glance at the sign. ‘A Mr Hot Oyster Guy. Do you know him?’

Jack groans. ‘Oh God. How about I get you that knife?’

‘Nice change of subject, Cap.’

Jack rounds the counter and I pull myself up on top of it. He grabs a butter knife from the cutlery drawer and extends his hand for the oyster.

‘Nope.’ I shake my head. ‘I’ll do it.’

I take the knife from him and plunge it straight into the hinge.

‘You do know you can’t eat that?’ Jack says.

I roll my eyes at him. ‘I’m aware.’

‘So, what are you doing?’

‘Looking for the pearl, of course. Someone once told me they were nature’s lotto ticket.’ I twist the knife and wriggle it back and forth. ‘Wait,’ I say, pausing dramatically. ‘This would be more fun with a wager, wouldn’t it?’

Jack raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of wager?’

‘If there’s a pearl, it’s a sign that we might actually have a chance of making it in the real world. But if there’s not . . . well, then, I guess it’s over before it really began.’

Jack hesitates, his mind clicking over as he calculates the terrible odds. But before he can respond, the shell pops open. We both lean in, looking for a tell-tale glimmer, but there’s nothing there.

‘Well, that’s that then,’ I say in mock-disappointment. ‘It’s been real nice knowing you, Captain Jack.’ I pause. ‘Unless . . .’

‘Unless what?’

‘Unless there is a pearl hiding here somewhere.’ I inch away from him across the bench.

‘Oi! Not so fast,’ he laughs, catching my arm. ‘You come down from there right now and explain yourself.’

He moves so he’s standing directly in front of me, and I wrap my legs around him.

‘Or you’ll do what?’ I tease, unable to suppress my smile as I tense my inner thighs and squeeze him tightly.

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