Page 48 of An Island in the Sun

Raff kicked off his trainers and dived in, neatly breaking the surface of the water and sending ripples towards her. He swam to the middle of the pool before emerging not far from her.

‘I do get why my parents moved from Surrey to here. The lifestyle’s frigging ace.’ He slicked a hand through his wet hair before front crawling his way to the other end of the pool and back again.

Tabitha leaned on the side, her elbows resting on the warm paving stones, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness and the sun on her damp shoulders as she watched the muscles in Raff’s arms tense with each stroke.

After doing ten laps, he swam over and joined her. ‘You’re not swimming?’

‘Nah, just enjoying the view,’ she said, smiling slyly.

Raff grinned. ‘You do realise the view’s that way.’ He pointed behind her.

‘I know,’ she said as innocently as she could. She didn’t want to continue being grumpy with him, not when they could be friends and she could enjoy her time with him. It wasn’t as if that thought didn’t appeal to her… She reached for her phone which was next to her towel and motioned for Raff to join her. He slid his arm around her waist, his fingers tickling her skin beneath the water, while she put her arm around his broad shoulders. ‘Say cheese.’

She snapped the selfie, the two of them with big smiles, their tanned skin beaded with water against the hazy green of the garden. She released her arm and returned her phone to the safety of the terrace, while Raff backstroked away, the sun making his chest gleam.

Tabitha swam past him. ‘Time to work.’

‘On a Sunday?’

‘Need to catch up somehow.’ She climbed up the steps and out of the pool, sensing Raff’s eyes on her as she dripped water on the paving.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day doing their own thing – Tabitha working in the living room with the doors wide open and the dogs lying at her feet, while Raff largely stayed in the garden office. In the evening, they shared another meal, this time prepared by Raff, a seafood salad that was so much nicer than the pasta dish she’d cooked the night before, as they chatted about Raff’s work designing video games and writing a series of pacy thrillers.

The next couple of days passed by uneventfully and in harmony, much to Tabitha’s relief. She had the time and headspace to work, even with Raff at the bottom of the garden. He was working too and kept to himself during the day, disappearing on the Monday evening for a couple of hours, which made her wonder if he was trying hard to stay out of her way. The trouble was, her heart kept betraying her head whenever he was around, and when he wasn’t, she was conscious of how much she missed him. A silly infatuation, connecting with someone after craving time on her own.

On Tuesday morning, a bottle of Madeira wine arrived from Ollie, along with the invitation to his party at a club in Funchal, which once again left Tabitha conflicted over how she felt. That evening, she rang her mum and had a long catch-up before being passed over to her dad and then Elspeth. If her sister was disappointed that Tabitha didn’t have any juicy news, she didn’t let it show. Elspeth sent photos of her and Gethin wearing paint-splattered T-shirts and standing next to a newly painted sunny yellow wall at the end of the spacious barn. It was beginning to look as if they’d be able to host a wedding there on the weekend. Tabitha considered sending the selfie she and Raff had taken together in the pool, but then thought better of it – she’d never hear the end of it if Elspeth actually got to see what he looked like.

Wednesday evening, the night of Ollie’s party, came round quickly. Tabitha had booked a taxi for nine, so they’d get to the club by ten. The day had been filled with remote meetings and little time to concentrate on writing and her head spun with a million things, especially the thought of seeing Ollie again. She’d retreated to her room to get changed and had tried on three or four outfits before finally feeling happy.

Tabitha had never considered herself to be a nervous person. She was fine meeting new people and had the confidence to walk into a room full of strangers. But with Ollie it felt different. The damage to their friendship had left her uncertain about where she stood with him. There might be people she would know from way back at his party, although them being on Madeira rather than in London made that less likely. What she did realise as she got ready was she was grateful that Raff was going with her.

She felt cool and confident in tight black leather trousers, a plunging V-neck top, strappy gold heels and chunky bracelets. She was ready to party and realised that she missed this, getting dressed up and going out, something she’d rarely done over the past year. There had been opportunities during her month in LA, but she’d shied away from being sociable, focusing solely on work. The last time she’d properly gone out was New Year’s Eve in Devon with her two sisters and their husbands to the local pub. This was different. This was a night out for her friend’s birthday, plus she was going with a new friend. Bring it on.

21

It was dark by the time the taxi arrived. The dogs and cat had been fed and would be okay on their own for a few hours. Tabitha locked up and met Raff on the drive. He looked good even in jeans and a T-shirt, but wearing fitted grey trousers and a black, short-sleeved linen shirt, he was even more handsome than usual. Her eyes trailed over him before she realised he was doing the same to her. When his eyes eventually met hers, he flashed a knowing grin.

The taxi driver raced along, in and out of the tunnels of the coast road, snatches of the city coming into view every so often. Funchal twinkled in the night, lights scattering the hillside all the way to the ocean. From the relative darkness that surrounded the villa, Funchal blazed with the promise of nightlife and dancing till late, leaving Tabitha tingling with excitement.

They’d mostly been quiet on the journey, with Raff on his phone and Tabitha replying to messages and updating her social media, while a local radio station played pop music in the background. As they drove further into the city, Raff spoke to the driver in Portuguese, getting him to drop them off a short walk away from the club.

However much she’d craved peace and time to herself, as she walked through the club doors, there was no getting away from the longing she felt for recapturing that time in her life when going clubbing or playing at a gig was the norm. The bass pulsed, increasing as they walked beyond security into the heart of the club. Tabitha paused momentarily, enveloped in the heat and the all-encompassing thump thump thump as she watched the crush of people on the dance floor, a mass of tanned writhing limbs. Mirror balls glittered, while strobe lighting cut across the dance floor, showing a snapshot of smiling faces, flushed cheeks, hands in the air, a plethora of strangers in slow motion, all as one, lost in the moment.

If she closed her eyes, Tabitha knew she’d be transported back to being on stage and hearing the roar of a frenzied crowd. Performing had been addictive, and now her senses were overwhelmed by the heat, the noise, the beat, the smell: hot skin, sweat, spilt drinks, the mingle of perfume and aftershave. It was everything she thought she no longer wanted, yet right now she couldn’t think of anything better.

Tabitha took Raff’s hand and led him through the club, bypassing the crush on the dance floor, towards the VIP area. Ollie spotted them and waved them through security.

‘Ollie Pereira’s your friend?’ Raff shouted in her ear.

‘I didn’t think you were into pop?’

‘I’m not; I know who he is though.’

Ollie’s fame left her a little starstruck too, the idea that her friend was a big enough star to warrant security and this amount of attention blew her mind and it wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to being around rock stars. It was different, though, seeing the change in someone she’d known since they were both skint students.

‘Hey, Tabitha!’ Ollie greeted her with open arms and enveloped her into a hug that was familiar and greatly missed. ‘Once again, you look bloody gorgeous.’

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