Page 32 of That Island Feeling

I’ve relit our moon circle candles. The space is too large for them to throw out any significant light – but at least we have them.

‘I’d say it’s more of a Survivor vibe,’ Grace says, trailing behind her. ‘And the boys are the other tribe. The Buckaroos.’

‘Maybe that’s it!’ Lizzie exclaims. ‘They’re trying to take back the house.’

‘It’s a mutiny!’ Grace blurts out.

‘I highly doubt that.’ Taylor laughs now. ‘You’ve seen their new place – it’s so charming.’

The fleeting thought that perhaps Taylor has seen more of Keith’s place than the rest of us is cut short by lively hammering on the back door.

I freeze. Is this yet another plan I’m (quite literally) in the dark about, and was the ‘blackout’ somehow orchestrated to get the boys back over here?

Whoever it is knocks again, then the handle turns and the door swings open. It’s Jack, holding a dirt-smudged printout of Mitch.

Chapter Sixteen

JACK

‘So which one of you is the pyromaniac?’ I ask, closing the door behind me. The wind is still blowing a gale.

Andie steps forward. ‘We were toasting marshmallows. But it was all under control.’ Her eyes dart around the room. She’s extra cute when she’s lying.

The smoking fire pit, scorched grass and upturned bucket tell a different story. ‘I take it this was the only lucky sod saved from a fiery grave?’ A smile teases at the edge of my mouth as I place the photo of the finance bro on the coffee table and shift my gaze back to Andie’s face, searching for any glimmer of emotion. Is this city schmuck her type?

But it’s Taylor who reaches down and snatches up the photo.

‘Are you here to help us switch the electricity back on?’ Andie asks, voice hopeful.

I relish the opportunity to appear like her knight in rubber thongs.

‘Not quite, but I came over to show you where all the torches and blackout supplies are kept. It’s an island-wide blackout. We get them at least once a month when the weather heats up too much. Moorings doesn’t have a generator, unfortunately, but power should be back on by the morning.’

I’d attempted sending Andie a text first, directing her to the upstairs hallway cupboard, but of course it hadn’t gone through. So I decided it was easier to come over myself.

‘Thanks. Erm – and – um – ah – the plumbing?’ Andie asks, cheeks pinked. I try not to shine my torch directly in her face.

‘I would avoid where possible. The pump is electric.’ I debate whether or not to make a joke out of their bowel movements and turn that adorable pink even pinker. Ah shit, I can’t resist. ‘And no pool wees either. That pump will also be out, so it’ll be embarrassing in the morning when you wake up to a yellow-themed pool.’

‘You know about the stupid yellow theme?’ Grace cackles.

A deep, painful silence settles in the room and my skin prickles.

‘Ah yes, I gathered from the decorations. I saw a sign – lemonade out of lemons, right? Genius.’ I know I’m overcompensating but the hurt look on Andie’s face is causing my heart to follow suit. I’m trying to figure out what else I can do to ease the tension when the fridge lets out a loud belch, like brakes grinding to a halt.

Andie winces. ‘I don’t suppose you brought any ice with you?’ she asks. ‘I doubt the very un-yellow prawns I picked up earlier will make it through the night unchilled.’

‘I didn’t,’ I reply, grimacing. ‘But hey, how about I get you girls sorted with torches, and I’ll go grab you a bag.’

I’d intended to drop some ice over to Charlie at the shop, but this feels like the kind of extraordinary situation that takes precedence over any prior plans.

‘Thanks. I can come with you though, so you don’t need to make the trip back,’ Andie offers.

‘It’s fine. I don’t mind coming ba–’

I stop as I see her expression and realise this is her ‘get out of Moorings free’ card.

‘That would be great,’ I agree.

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