Page 51 of Storm over the Caribbean
“I said not now! I’m trying to think! I’m trying to remember where—”
It was only then that he seemed to notice my free hand, pointing downwards. Down towards where a curious crab was sticking its head out of a hole in the sand.
For an instant, Mr Ambrose stood frozen, staring at the crab.
The crab stared back, until…
He pounced!
With astounding alacrity, the little crab scuttled out of the way. Waving its pincers, it started dashing off towards the ocean. Without a second’s hesitation, Mr Rikkard Ambrose rushed after it, his long legs eating up the ground at a prodigious pace. Which made it all the more impressive that the little crab seemed to have no difficulty keeping its lead, all the while waving its pincers as if to say “Bye-bye, suckers! See you later!”
With a growl, Mr Rikkard Ambrose sped up, his legs pumping like pistons. I, meanwhile, settled down on the warm sand andreached for a nearby coconut. Now, if I only had a straw and some snacks.
Down at the shore, Mr Ambrose leapt forward, heading straight towards his prey—and, with a splash, landed face-first in the surf.
The little crab waved goodbye one last time, then dashed into the sea to join the mermaid kingdom.
I didn’t snicker. I swear, I didn’t. It was the coconut.
Raising his dripping face out of the water, Mr Rikkard Ambrose sent me a glacial look. I was rather surprised the whole island didn’t freeze over.
“Did you wish to make a comment, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Oh, no, no. Do carry on.”
Mr Ambrose’s little finger twitched. “There are plenty more crabs around for you to try your luck with if you wish to try, yourself, Mrs Ambrose.”
“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t.” Grabbing a nearby fallen palm leaf, I started to fan myself. “Pregnant women need their rest, you know.”
“I see. Well, then I hope you’llrest in peace, Mrs Ambrose.”
The way he said those three words didn’t exactly conjure up images of comfy beds and cushions. Rather, headstones came to mind.
“Oh, I will,” I assured him, waving my palm leaf. “You wouldn’t perchance like to fan me for a few minutes, would you?”
The look I received said more than a thousand words. None of them were very polite ones. Then, climbing out of the water, he strode back onto the beach and started digging for crabs.
Up until recently, if you’d asked me what the funniest sight in the world was, I’d probably have said my aunt’s face on my wedding day, or maybe Karim in a pink tutu. That was, however, before I got the distinct privilege of watching Mr RikkardAmbrose go crab-hunting. The sight of the most powerful business mogul of the British Empire chasing after little critters that, in spite of only having three-inch-long legs, somehow managed to easily outrun him, was a true wonder to behold. Nothing could ever compare. Though the sight of Mr Rikkard Ambrose dancing around trying to detach a crab from his nose was a close second.
“Nnng! Agh! Lllt ggo!”
“Pardon, Dicky Darling? Did you say something?”
“Nofing,” came the cool, though rather difficult-to-understand, answer. “Nofing at all.”
“Oh, I see.” I glanced over at where he was still trying to pull the little critter off his nose. “So you won’t need any help then. That’s good.”
“Ng! Gg! Gtt off, you…!”
Thud!
The crab hit a palm, leapt down to the ground and instantly scuttled off towards the ocean. Mr Ambrose chased after it, a rock raised in one hand and a murderous gleam in his eyes. The critter made clicking noises and sped up.
Honestly, it was so cute I almost felt sorry for planning to eat those little fellows. Though, when Mr Rikkard Ambrose strode back towards me, his trousers wet from the ocean and the tip of his nose slightly reddened, I decided not to mention that little fact out loud.
“You go gather some firewood, Mrs Ambrose. Meanwhile…” Eyes glittering with desire for vengeance, he bent over one of the crabs he had gathered in a pit he had dug. “I shall getcracking.”
“Um…” I raised a hand. “I don’t know much about sea food, but aren’t crab shells usually crackedaftercooking?”
