Chapter 13 #2
‘Holy shit!’ Amanda says, pulling down her shades to the tip of her nose, her eyes following the belly of the plane.
Holding up my phone, I snap away at the aeroplane until my head is leaning back to look up at the giant metal bird.
Jake wasn’t lying; people daring enough to stand in the middle of the beach, directly under the plane’s path, are clinging onto the railings.
Hats fly, hair blows back, a young girl loses her grip and her footing.
‘Wow, that’s incredible.’
‘Told ya,’ Jake says with a smug smile. ‘Another?’
I shake my head fast. ‘No. I really shouldn’t; these three have already gone to my head.’
‘They should,’ he laughs. ‘They’re free-poured measures.’
‘Urgh, if I wasn’t pregnant, I’d—’
‘Oh, God, enough already. Bring me another please, Jake.’
‘On it,’ he laughs.
After four virgin drinks for the pregnant lady and four free-poured, rocket-fuel rum punches for me, we find ourselves in the warm sea.
Amanda twirls herself away from me, bending her legs to a sitting position.
‘Tell me you’re not.’ I hold a hand over my mouth but my tipsy giggle escapes regardless. ‘You’re taking a pee, aren’t you?’
She chuckles. ‘Well, I am now you’ve made me laugh.’
‘You’re gross.’
‘I’m more sanitary than going in those toilets with kids’ dribble on the floor and dirty door handles.’
Shaking my head, I flip onto my back and move my legs in upside-down breast stroke, the sun beating on my face. ‘Amanda, I’m booze-crazed.’
She chuckles and bumps into me, her body in the same pose as mine. ‘I know.’
I can’t remember the last time I was drunk and not throwing up outside a club, making a mess of my relationship with Gregory, and embarrassing myself in floods of tears. The thought of being drunk-happy makes me all kinds of fuzzy inside.
Amanda heads back to our loungers and the beach is emptying.
And I close my eyes, turning in circles, feeling the water move between my fingers, and remembering how my dad would dance with me in our lounge as I stood on his toes.
I remember the times Gregory has twirled me, held me close as we’ve danced.
Our perfect moment on top of Primrose Hill. Just us. Our own world.
I have a feeling I’m never going to look at a sunset, the blue sky, the topaz sea the same way again as I’m looking at it right now.
‘I’m alive,’ I whisper to myself as I stop and watch the sun slowly descend.
It’s a presence. A charge. I know he’s here. I can feel him. Turning to Amanda on her lounger, I find Williams sitting on the edge of her bed, massaging her feet in his lap. And my angel, sitting up, straddling my lounger with a bottle of beer in his hand, watching me with a smile.
‘You drunk, baby?’ he asks with a smirk as I stroll towards him.
I don’t know what the right answer is to his question. It’s not like it’s a difficult question. Words just don’t seem to be fitting together right. Instead, I shrug.
That’ll have to do. Leaning forward to put my empty cup on the lounger, I stagger, then turn around to look for whatever it was that knocked me off balance. Whatever it was is gone now.
‘All right, gorgeous. I think you’ve had enough fruit juice for one day.’
Bending my knees, I fall to the lounger between Gregory’s spread legs because I need to make him understand. ‘The juice s’really good here, Ryans. Yoush try it.’
He leans back on his elbows – playful looks good on him. I slip between his legs and become even more liquid as he runs his fingertips down my arms, as if he has no idea he’s even doing whilst we all talk, like four friends, just hanging out. As if this life I’m in isn’t completely crazy.
* * *
When we’re back at the yacht, Carl helps Amanda first, then offers me a hand and practically pulls me onto the first deck. Our yacht. S. R. Aurora. I like the sound of that. Scarlett Ryans.
‘Rum punch?’ Carl asks.
‘A little too much rum punch,’ Gregory replies.
‘Bertie was set to serve dinner at eight-thirty, sir; would you like it sooner?’
‘Maybe something to snack on would be good and water, lots of water.’
I lean into Carl and pat his chest with both palms. ‘He’s so bossy, Carl. So, so bossy.’
‘Baby, I’m going to change. Are you coming with me?’
‘Nope. Nada. Nein. No. Niente.’
‘Niente means nothing, baby.’
‘Yess’know, Gregory.’ I roll my eyes and shake my head. ‘I’m going to sit up there and have some water.’
Amanda pats Gregory on the arm, fond and touching. She nestles into a rattan chair and pulls her knees underneath her.
‘Let’s dance,’ I say. ‘We should dance.’
‘All right. What do you want to dance to?’
I wiggle my hips as I move towards her on the chair, swirling a finger just in front of her nose. ‘I think you know.’
‘“Mr Brightside”!’
‘Carl, can you—’
It’s not obvious whether he’s laughing at or with me but I don’t care because The Killers’ ‘Mr Brightside’, my university party piece, comes over the speakers of the yacht as we slowly back out of the harbour into the ocean.
As the guitar kicks in, I walk backwards to the bow and Amanda struts towards me in time to the music, her lips pursed like a rock star. The beat drops. The voices. Bass. Drums. Amanda screams, running towards me.
We hold hands, jumping, shouting the lyrics.
Hell, I forgot how much fun we used to have.
Amanda stands in the verse, fanning herself as she moves to a lounger and sips cool water. I’m sweating, I’m hyper and I’m on top of the world.
Air guitar.
Head down, one leg bent and bouncing, I play that damned air guitar like a wild thing. I jump, my feet kicking out beneath me, my arms punching the air above my head.
Then I see him. Arms folded. Watching me.
I stop for a second and consider how insanely drunk I must look to him.
Then I think, fuck it!
I jump again to the final chorus and repeat my dress-removal action as a massive smirk pulls on his lips and Williams joins Amanda in hysterics.
‘Scarlett, come away from the edge,’ Gregory shouts over the music.
I check the position of my feet, then challenging him, I shuffle back towards the edge.
‘Scarlett.’
‘Oh, Gregory, she’s fine. Bloody hell.’
He scowls at Amanda and starts walking towards me.
‘Scarlett, I won’t tell you again.’
I shuffle my feet back further. ‘What will you do about it?’ He speeds up when my heels hang over the edge. ‘Will you spank me, Ryans?’
He darts towards me, knocking me off balance and ends up catching me, pulling me into him as I chuckle. ‘Baby, flirting with men on the beach, getting drunk without me, you were already in spanking territory.’
I swallow audibly under the intensity of his stare, the heat emanating from his body moves directly to my sex without passing Go.
‘For this, you’re going to be tied to the bed and you’re going to accept my cock until you make me come in that fucking marvellous mouth of yours.’
A sharp breath fills my lungs.
‘Then I’m going to spank you.’
‘I want you so bad right now,’ I confess.
‘My cock is twitching to be inside you.’
‘Give in,’ I whisper.
He draws his fingers gently down the side of my face and tucks my sea and wind messed locks behind my ear in that way he does. ‘I love seeing you happy.’
‘Tha’s very fortunate, Ryans, ’cause you make me es’tremely happy.’
‘God, I love you, Scarlett.’
His hand moves to my nape and pulls my mouth against his. Like there’s no one else in the world, he scoops me up, my legs locking around his waist, my fingers gripping his hair.
‘All right, all right, Jesus, you two!’ Amanda shouts. ‘Put her down.’
‘She’s horny because Williams won’t fuck her,’ I whisper against Gregory’s lips. ‘Says he’ll hurt the baby.’
‘Not my fucking problem. You need a shower before dinner.’
I mumble my agreement and let him carry me below deck.