Page 44 of That Island Feeling

‘Hmm, okay, very well then. You’re the expert.’ She re-pockets her handkerchief. ‘Billy and I met when he was performing at a bar in Port Hope. He was an opera singer. We met after his show, when I asked him to sign my program, and he invited me to dinner the next night – he had no idea I lived on the island. Hannah helped me get ready, curled my hair and lent me a pair of strappy heels to wear – wait, sorry.’ Hazel stops and twists in her chair.

‘Can we check this is in shot?’ she asks, glancing at the frame hung on the wall to the left of the settee. ‘It was a thirtieth-anniversary gift, and I’d love to have it in view.’

The artwork is a yin–yang symbol outlined in iridescent gold. One side is coloured black, the other is white. On the black side, a delicate white pearl sits nestled at its base, while atop the white side, there’s an empty space, as if it’s awaiting its pearl.

‘It’s stunning,’ I say, leaning in to inspect the phone screen. ‘I’ll just get you to shuffle over a bit,’ I instruct as I readjust the angle slightly.

‘Okay, I think we’ve got it now,’ I say. ‘Good to continue?’

Hazel nods, her expression brightening.

‘Well, you should have seen Billy’s face when I turned up in my tinnie. I think he fell in love with me then and there – my dress billowing out over the motor, oyster cuts all over my feet. He took me to The Oyster House over on Crescent Island and I felt like I was in Pretty Woman, with no idea which piece of cutlery was for what. But one thing I did know was exactly how to eat those delicious oysters – I downed close to two dozen that night. We went back to The Oyster House every anniversary.’

She stops talking suddenly.

‘Everything okay? I still have the pearl artwork in shot,’ I confirm.

‘No, no, it’s not that. It just occurred to me that I don’t want this to be all bunny rabbits and rainbows. I want to depict the bad alongside the good.’

‘Hmm. Maybe you could tell us about a particularly challenging time you’ve faced while living on the island?’

A shadow crosses Hazel’s face. ‘Oh, that would have to be a day three years ago now. One of the darkest times in Pearl Island’s history, when we found out our oysters were no longer safe to eat. At first, we were hopeful it was just passing bacteria from the contaminated water, but unfortunately, it turned out to be a viral outbreak that was set to ruin us. Millions of oysters dead in only a few months. It would have been hard to believe if we didn’t have the carcasses to show for it, piled high in the harvesting shed of what was once a thriving farm.’ Hazel pauses, shaking her head. ‘It devastated us.’

You were made from oysters and wine, Mum’s silky voice sounds in my head.

‘Wow,’ I breathe. ‘Does that mean you can’t eat the oysters here anymore?’

‘No, unfortunately not.’ Hazel shakes her head. ‘There’s been no oysters for years.’ She clears her throat. ‘Anyway, perhaps that’s enough of the bad for now – back to the bunny rabbits! Who aren’t as cute as they seem and are in fact a destructive pest, as I’m sure even a city girl like you would know!’ Hazel leans forward towards the camera and begins a fresh island story. But my mind is elsewhere. No oysters?! The thought sends an unexpected stab through my chest.

I’ve spent so much time picturing my parents honeymooning here, and oysters were always an integral part of that image, of that island feeling.

Chapter Twenty

JACK

In the worst timing possible, the river boat arrives at the dock at the same time as Andie. I don’t get the chance to revel in my excitement that she actually showed up – I’m too busy trying to catch Charlie’s eye to send him a subliminal message that now is not the ideal time to make his delivery.

‘Delivery for you, Coops!’ hollers Charlie from the stern.

And message not received.

‘Hey, Andie,’ I say as she reaches the end of the dock. I brush my lips against her soft cheek. ‘Can you give me a sec?’

‘Sure.’ She smiles, cheeks rosy. Gah. We have dimples.

‘They look like good ’uns,’ Charlie announces as I board the boat to give him a hand. ‘There should be two, right?’ he confirms.

‘Yep.’

The first suitcase hits the dock with a promising thud. It’s a hard-shell case – the sort that has a good track record for delivering quality items.

I glance down at Andie, to check she hasn’t vanished. But she’s still there, absorbed in her phone.

Thump! The second suitcase hits the dock.

‘I don’t suppose you want to grab a beer tonight?’

I shake my head and Charlie follows my anxious gaze to where Andie is now perched on the dock’s railing, phone re-pocketed.

---