Page 48 of That Island Feeling

‘Alright, two choices,’ I say, turning back to Andie. ‘This is as close to the shore as I can get, and there’s oysters everywhere out here. So, you can either keep your sandals on to avoid cuts and wade in, or I can carry you. What’ll it be?’

I’m well aware of the outcome I’m wishing for.

‘They’re leather, they can’t get wet,’ she states. Her tone is serious but a mischievous glint flickers in her eyes.

‘Right. Over the shoulder it is.’ I spring forward, and a gleeful scream escapes her lips.

I’ll come back for the picnic basket.

Chapter Twenty-one

ANDIE

This is so much better than the River Brasserie, I think as I sit on the sand, sandals off, filming the scene around me as I wait for Jack to return.

Boats criss-cross gracefully and cockatoos squawk and glide from tree to tree above. I’m surprised that there are only a few people on the beach. I watch a little boy splashing in the water, adjusting his goggles before pushing off the sandy bottom with a delighted giggle. My eyes are still on the boy when a boat pulls up close to shore and a leathery-skinned, long-haired man bounds out. ‘Magnums, Cornettos, Gaytimes, Calippos!’ he calls.

An ice-cream boat! How quaint!

The little boy, who looks to be around the same age as my kindergarteners, dashes out of the water, heading straight for his unsuspecting parents, who are sharing a bottle of wine on the sand. I’m so engrossed in their fierce negotiations (that kid is going places!) that I almost miss Jack striding back up the beach towards me. Dressed in a bright yellow shirt covered in miniature palm trees and matching board shorts, he looks like he’s permanently on vacation. Which makes sense now that I know his wardrobe is literally pulled from a vacation suitcase. I laugh to myself as I replay that earlier scene on the dock. I love how lightly he seems to take life.

Right now, he’s bounding towards me like an eager-to-please golden retriever, a goofy grin etched on his face. His carefree demeanour is very attractive.

‘Should we?’ I ask, nodding towards the ice-cream boat. The little boy is triumphantly licking a drippy chocolate Cornetto cone and the Robinson Crusoe vendor is pulling up his anchor, preparing to leave.

‘No way. It’s river robbery. Brad charges twelve dollars for a Calippo!’

‘Ouch.’

‘But if you want one, of course . . .’ he adds, turning to see if there’s time to flag the boat down.

‘No, no, no,’ I say, eager to put him at ease. ‘I just liked the novelty of it.’ My tongue still tingles from the sugary lollipops.

‘Thank God, because Charlie would have me shot.’

‘He doesn’t strike me as a violent man,’ I say. ‘What does he have against Streets ice creams?’

‘Not violent? I won’t tell you what happened to that poor king parrot gang.’ Jack extends an arm to help me up from the sand.

‘Ah, yes, no thank you.’

‘Seagulls are currently public enemy number one,’ he informs me, scooping up my sandals. ‘And Charlie’s issue isn’t with the ice creams, it’s with Brad. He’s not even from Pearl, he lives on a neighbouring island, and he loves torturing Charlie by anchoring right outside the shop and slashing his prices.’

‘Right, ice-cream boat strike it is.’

I add Brad to my list of island enemies. At the top of that list is Clam Cove Resort manager Alec. I have a feeling from Jack’s earlier haunted expression that his vendetta against Alec runs a bit deeper than price gouging. He must be Jack’s boss?

‘Although, I’m sure Charlie would forgive me if I told him I was just trying to impress a tourist girl.’

My stomach somersaults. ‘Are you regularly trying to impress tourist girls?’ I’m curious to know if this is an every week kind of thing.

‘Only the cute ones,’ he responds with a wink that sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

I thought as much, yet somehow this makes him even more appealing to me. The less strings, the better.

How is this real life? It’s like I’ve stepped straight into a movie featuring a hunky holiday fling. Because it’s not real life, I remind myself. It’s temporary island life.

‘Come on.’ Jack tugs my hand. ‘I’ve left our stuff at the other end of the beach and I don’t want anyone to nick it. Especially those damn birds.’

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