Page 76 of That Island Feeling

This is not going to be easy.

‘So, it is about Clam Cove. Alec has taken over the oyster leases now, too,’ I expel in one breath.

I wait for Keith’s face to drop, but it remains unchanged. His mouth judders open. ‘Ah, yes, I know about that.’

‘You know!’ I blurt.

‘Yeah, Alec got on the blower a couple of months ago. Wanted some farming tips . . .’

‘Why didn’t you say anything? And you helped him?’ The questions rush out in a tumble of confusion.

‘I mean, I did and I didn’t.’ A smirk is forming.

My shoulders relax. ‘Keith . . . what did you do?’

‘I might have steered him in the direction of pearl farming.’

‘Pearls?! Wait, don’t tell me Alec thinks he can click his fingers and magically grow pearls, does he?’

The stress I felt just moments earlier has eased slightly, but it hasn’t completely vanished. Pearl Island Oyster Farm always focused on growing oysters to be eaten. While pearls could very occasionally appear naturally, we had never attempted to cultivate them because the meat itself was so tasty, and growing pearls would require significant intervention with the native ecosystem.

‘He might do,’ he says, with a full smirk. ‘He’ll be in for a rude shock when he discovers how time-intensive and fiddly that is. Not only should oysters be at their healthiest, but the environment must also be understood . . .’

‘I’m not sure if he’s fallen for that though,’ I interject. ‘He wants to grow Pacifics. Did you know that?’

Keith’s brow finally furrows, but he recovers swiftly. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, son. Our waters won’t cooperate.’

‘But what if the island could benefit from it?’ I press. ‘If Charlie and everyone else here could?’ I run my fingers through my hair, struck by the memory of Andie’s touch just hours ago. ‘If it works, it means the island will have an oyster industry again,’ I say. I know I don’t need to elaborate on the economic impact of that.

Even if it were possible in the next few years, we know that we don’t have the money to revive the native pearl oyster population. Alec and Clam Cove Resort have the massive advantage of billionaire backers with what appear to be unlimited funds.

‘He’s asked me to come on board to help out and I’m considering it,’ I finish in a near whisper.

Plink, plink, plink. The old copper kitchen tap drips into the sink like the ominous ticking of a bomb. A father-and-son relationship about to detonate. I haven’t turned it off tightly enough. ‘I know he’s doing it with or without me.’

Keith clears his throat, and my worried eyes don’t leave his face. He might be acting like he’s not bothered, but I know the truth.

‘You can’t be cleaning rooms for the rest of your life, kid. You need to do what you need to do. I raised you right, I know how you feel about this land and these waters. You have nothing but respect. But the world is changing, and unfortunately, we need to accept that.’

‘Would you stick around permanently if, by some miracle, we could get the farm back up and running?’ I ask hopefully, even though I already know his answer.

Keith’s gaze shifts to the pile of pearl shells on the table, and he shakes his head. ‘Ah, it’s too much. I’ll be headed back up north again in a few days.’

I nod.

‘This is not a dilemma any of us ever wanted, my boy,’ he continues. ‘We’d have been content out in those waters for as long as they were happy to have us.’ He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. ‘I just want you to remember one thing.’

‘Yes?’ Perhaps whatever he has to say now holds the clarity that I need.

‘This island is not yours to carry on your back – and you can’t hold it in your hand to keep it safe, either.’

‘I know that. Thanks, Keith.’

We stand and hug again. Discussion closed.

‘Now tell me,’ he starts, pacing over to the kitchen to tighten the leaky tap. ‘Did I interrupt something by showing up here unannounced?’

Damn Keith knowing me like the back of his fishhook-scarred hands.

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