Page 46 of That Island Feeling

‘Or sharing,’ I correct. ‘I don’t know what you people do in the city, but around these parts, sharing is caring.’

‘We share expletives with our neighbours about blasting their music at ungodly hours, does that count?’ She unwraps her lollipop and jams it into her mouth. Why do I instantly think about her tongue tasting like tart berry and creamy sweetness?

‘Come on, the boat is waiting.’ I tug on her hand.

I’m putting on a good show, but I’m actually terrified Beryl will come back and spring us mid-Chupa Chups heist. It’s her blood pressure that I worry about more than any sort of reprimand.

The river boat is pulling away from the dock as we exit the store.

Andie starts waving her hands wildly and begins sprinting down the wharf. ‘Hey! Wait up!’

‘Andie!’ I yell after her, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. ‘We’re not catching that!’

Andie halts halfway down the jetty and swivels back to face me. Her expression is equal parts relief and horror. ‘Oh.’

She slowly makes her way back to me and I throw a gentle arm around her shoulders.

‘Sorry, I’m probably all sweaty,’ she says. But she doesn’t pull away.

‘I don’t mind.’ I deliberately wipe my own damp forehead. ‘You know, you can switch off when you’re here.’

She doesn’t respond immediately, and I worry that I’ve spoken out of turn. I’m already holding back. What I really want to say is, you can switch off when you’re with me.

‘I only meant that, since I invited you, I’ve got it sorted,’ I offer hurriedly.

‘Thank you,’ she says softly, before her tone switches back to the in-charge Andie I’ve come to know. ‘So if we’re not catching the river boat, where are we going?’

I remove my arm and spin her to face me. ‘Honey, I got my boat licence before I got my pen licence. We’re not going anywhere if I’m not the one driving. Right this way.’

I lead us along the shore towards the next jetty, where my tinnie is anchored in a row of other fishing boats. A speed boat has just docked and its passengers are stumbling off, each face greener than the next.

‘Bloody Alec,’ I mutter, unable to stop myself.

‘Do you know everyone on this island?’ Andie asks as we weave through the dishevelled crowd. One guy is not done being sick so I subtly shift my body to shield Andie.

‘Yeah. It’s hard not to. But I wish I didn’t know him.’ I glance back to where Alec is tending to the boat’s leather trim instead of his poorly guests.

‘Oh?’

‘He’s the manager at Clam Cove Resort. A mainland import. Decided that offering thrill rides on the river was a genius idea. Let’s just say that he shouldn’t even have his pen licence.’

‘So he’s a shithead. Got it.’

I mock gasp. ‘You don’t hold back!’ But I’m warmed by how quickly she commits to disliking a guy with absolutely no context. Just because I’ve said so.

‘What?’ She flutters her eyelashes innocently. ‘Kindergarten teachers have been known to swear out of hours, you know – and occasionally in hours, too.’

I laugh. ‘Yeah, I’ve noted your potty-mouth. Seems like a trip to Miss Andie’s classroom would straighten Alec out.’

‘Yup, or a little self-defence nibble. And it’s actually Ms Alcott’s classroom,’ she corrects me.

Ms Andie Alcott’s classroom. I love slowly piecing together snippets of information about her.

‘I’d prefer you to save your nibbles for me,’ I say thickly.

Her eyes flash. ‘Copy.’

She doesn’t pry any further about the Alec situation and by the time we stop in front of my boat it hits me that I like her even more now than I did twenty minutes ago when we met on the dock.

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