Page 77 of A Very Happy Easter

“From what I’ve heard, they take a more pragmatic approach to arseholes here in San Gallicano.”

My heart thumped against my ribcage. “Please, just let him go. We don’t need any trouble.”

Mamie clearly hadn’t got that message, though. Heath jumped out of the way as she whacked the pap with a broom and then used the bristles to shove him towards the door.

“You get out. We don’t need no trash here. Get out.” Another thwack. “You go now.”

Several other locals backed her up, and the vulture snatched his camera back and ran for the door as I tried to quell my rising panic. The anxiety had been mercifully absent for the past week, but now it rushed back with a vengeance. Heath held up a hand, and I touched my middle finger to his, grounding myself.

“Easy, Edie. It’s okay. He’s gone.”

“What was he even doing here in the first place?”

A guy from the bar spoke up. “They after that singer. The one stayin’ at the turtle sanctuary. Folks be havin’ fun sendin’ those clowns all over. You want the ferry to Valentine Cay? Sure, it’s right over there, hop on. Then they end up on Emerald Shores, on Sasurra, on Malavilla.” He cackled to himself. “Fools.”

“That singer? You mean Luna Maara?”

He nodded. “Crazy girl, but she be bringin’ plenty of foreign money into the country. Hey, Mamie—next time, you charge the man a hundred US dollars for chicken.” The guy laughed again. “All over the islands, they doublin’ the hotel rates for anyone with a big camera.”

“Good,” Heath said under his breath, finally sitting down again. “The woman’s a pain in the backside, but the paparazzi are worse.”

“You know Luna Maara?” I asked, surprised.

“Not personally, but when I last spoke with Emmy, she mentioned that Maara has a couple of Blackwood US bodyguards with her, and I gather they’re not having the easiest time.”

“She’s a product of her environment.”

“An environment she put herself in.”

“I’m not so sure she did. I think Luna Maara has many problems, and the biggest of those is her mother.”

Heath’s turn to be surprised. “You know her?”

“No, but the year before last, I attended an event she was performing at, and I heard her giving herself a pep talk in the backstage bathroom beforehand.” She hadn’t known I was there. I was in the end stall, having a panic attack at the thought of walking out in front of the crowd to present an award, and she thought it was empty. Mainly because in the pre-Heath days, I used to carry an “Out of Order” sign in my handbag so I could stick it on the door and get some peace. “I’ll make it through this, Mom won’t yell at me, all I have to do is sing, that kind of thing. The rest of the night, I found myself watching her. She wears that big smile, but it drops right off her face when she thinks nobody’s looking.”

It was easier to see these things when you’d lived the experience. Luna Maara was undoubtedly challenging to work with, but more than anything, I felt sorry for her.

Heath considered that for a moment. “Money can’t buy happiness, huh?”

“No, it really can’t.”

Although paying half of Heath’s rent had bought me his company, and that was almost the same thing.

Twenty-One

Another week passed. Heath convinced me to try snorkelling, which was all fun and games until someone posted a shark warning on a local social media group. Now I was back to swimming laps in the pool and freaking out every time he set foot in the sea. Even though the patrons at Roots swore there had never been a fatal shark attack off the coast of Sasurra, I remained unconvinced the waters were safe because there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there? And did they know how bad my luck had been lately? At least no more reporters showed up. Mamie left the broom propped against the bar, and the regulars assured me they knew how to use it.

Discovering a sense of community here, even in a small way, was oddly comforting.

Meanwhile in London, Salma was fielding most of my communications while I was away, but the occasional personal call still got through. Including one from Kirsten.

“Ohmigosh! Is it true Heath beat up a reporter?”

“What do you think?”

“Yes? He’s so fierce and protective, and you totally deserve a man who looks out for you like that.”

“Kirsten! Of course he didn’t beat anyone up. The paparazzi lie all the time, remember?”

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