Page 54 of That Island Feeling

I thank Margie for her time and leave in a hurry.

I kick off my leather loafers on the dock. In the fifty minutes we’ve spent together, they’ve managed to give me the worst blister of my life. I’ve done that Milan tourist a massive favour. There’s no way they could have toured the Duomo in these monstrosities.

I consider leaving the shoes on the dock but scoop them up and step barefoot into my tinnie – no need to litter just because I’m in a bad mood – only to find a feral townie bird has shat absolutely everywhere.

ISLAND LIFE

Chapter Twenty-four

ANDIE

Arriving back at Moorings feels a bit like stepping out of the wardrobe from Narnia. I’ve left behind a magical world, and now I’m wondering how much of it was even real.

I plunge a hand in my pocket and feel around for the tacky lollipop sticks. Yup, there they are, nestled in a bed of sand. As I retract my hand, I feel grains under my nails.

Jack offered to walk me back to the house, but he seemed eager to return to his own place. After dinner, he began talking about the incoming tide, prompting us to quickly pack up. I noticed Jack discreetly pocket the oyster shells. The ride back was quiet, a departure from our earlier banter.

There was no invitation for a nightcap at his cabin. He didn’t attempt to kiss me when we said goodbye. And it left me wanting more.

Peals of male and female laughter greet me as I step through the front door. So much for that quiet spa night, I think to myself, amused. The first thing I notice as I plonk down my bag is the empty chip packets and dip containers scattered over the kitchen bench. Snacks that were supposed to last us until the end of the week are gone – including the rest of Hazel’s strawberries.

‘Andie!’ Grace squeals as I enter the living room. The girls are in their bras and undies and the boys are in their boxers. ‘How did it go?’

I’ve left the calm of Pearl Cove and walked straight into chaos.

‘Any action?’ Taylor asks. She’s perched on the edge of Ben’s chair, wearing her favourite red lacy set.

‘Looks like there was more action here,’ I say, reaching over the table to steal a corn chip from the open bag. Not that I’m in the slightest bit peckish – the lobster and hot chocolate still sit warm in my belly.

‘We’re playing strip poker,’ Richie says. ‘It’s like traditional poker, but we wager items of clothing instead of chips or money.’

‘I know what strip poker is,’ I say sharply.

My island knowledge is admittedly limited, but Jack has never mansplained anything. Richie, meanwhile, is the type of guy who has all the words when they’re not needed, and none when they are. I can easily imagine him sending a ‘Sry’ text to his girlfriend when he fucks up.

‘So, really, nothing happened?’ Taylor asks. One of her hands is on the table, gripping a mojito-esque drink – at least the strawberries were put to good use – but I can’t see where her other hand is. Hopefully not in Ben’s lap.

I crunch down on my chip and shake my head.

‘Tell me you wore your bikini and not the one-piece!’

I say nothing.

Finally realising this is not a conversation for the entire group, Taylor stands up from the table with her fruity cocktail in hand and addresses the boys. ‘Sorry, girl chat. Can we take a quick break?’

‘Just expect us to be naked when you get back,’ Richie quips.

Ugh.

Ben shoots us an apologetic look.

Taylor ushers Grace, Lizzie and I into the quiet of the neighbouring kitchen.

‘Sorry, that was totally out of line,’ she begins. ‘And I love that black swimsuit, it’s actually very sexy – not that a lack of sexiness on your part has anything to do with anything,’ she adds quickly.

‘Thank you,’ I say quietly.

‘I like it too!’ Grace chimes in, still fixated on the swimsuit. ‘Your tits look incredible in it.’

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