Chapter 13
After an interminable twenty-four hours in transit, I arrive on the island of Mahé red-eyed, a bag of mixed emotions.
Not ideal and not the right mood to start my shiny new life.
I give myself a pep talk as I stop and buy a sim card and switch it over.
Lost in a tired fog, I trail through customs. From here, the plan is to take a boat to the tiny island of Esperé.
I remind myself this is a fabulous opportunity, a fresh start!
A chance to rebuild. Reflect. Who gets their life decimated and swaps it for a bookshop on a tropical island?
I should be jumping for joy. I vow to make this the next best chapter of my life.
Outside, the bright sunshine hits me at the same time the humidity does.
My hair absorbs the water in the air and frizzes, and my natural blonde curls are restored back to factory settings.
Another plus; there’s obviously no point straightening my unruly hair here in paradise. More time to sink my nose into a book.
Shading my face with a hand, I scan the area for Gus and instead find a guy holding a sign aloft with my name on it.
With a rapid Seychellois greeting, he takes my suitcase and jostles me towards a different section of the airport to what appears to be a helicopter.
Yes, definitely a helicopter. He flings my suitcase into a cargo area in the belly of the bright yellow bird and motions for me to enter the cabin.
No one mentioned a helicopter. And just who is this guy?
He could be people smuggling me and I’m not so na?ve as to just comply.
‘Wait, where’s Gus?’ Should I be asking to see this man’s credentials? How unlucky could a person be, being snatched off a tropical island? Although with my run of luck lately, it’s probably worth checking. ‘Can I see some ID?’
The guy does a full belly laugh, although I’m not quite sure why.
‘This is how we get to the Last Chance Resort.’ He flashes a toothy smile.
His teeth are blindingly bright, I’ll give him that.
Dental hygiene is important, but I’ve got bigger issues than his pearly whites, so I shove the thought away.
I distinctly remember Gus mentioning a ferry that would take us from Mahé to Esperé; at no point was a helicopter mentioned. Not once. I don’t exactly love boats either, but it feels like the safer choice.
‘Let’s go. Your chariot awaits!’
‘My…’ I’m not so sure about this. ‘But…’
He gives me a gentle nudge on the back. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’ He points to the control tower. ‘We’re on a schedule here and I don’t want to upset the powers that be. They’ve got long memories.’
‘Uh-huh.’ This guy is clearly a people snatcher in a great big hurry.
I gulp. What does one do when faced with this set of circumstances?
I wish Mai had taught me the Krav Maga chokehold.
Sadly because I was the chokee, not the choker, I have no clue which limb went where for maximum effect.
Strangulation was involved, but that’s where my knowledge ends.
Casual as anything, he pops on a pair of aviator sunglasses and says, ‘So, holidaying alone?’ Why does that sound so ominous?
I bristle, ignore his question like he has done with mine and reiterate my concern. ‘You’re not Gus.’
‘I’m Michel.’ He gives a loose shrug. ‘I do airport transfers for the resort.’
I debate whether to give this guy some pointers on making his guests feel safe but hold off.
‘But Gus was supposed to be here.’ I think back to our conversation.
Did I simply presume it would be Gus picking me up?
It makes sense a five-star resort would have a dedicated person to handle airport transfers.
‘Gus doesn’t fly choppers! There’s only me for airport transfers. But once you’re on Esperé, you have a few options. Most locals use bicycles to get around. The resort can cater to your every whim, whether you want a private car for tours or…’
‘I’m here to work at the Barefoot Bookshop.’ I fire off a text to Lily, grateful I swapped sim cards at the airport, so I have data.
Harper
I’ve landed. And now some guy named Michel has arrived to take me in a HELICOPTER. He’s about six foot tall, thick lustrous hair, warm brown complexion, cheeky wide smile – has a tattoo of a giant tortoise on his arm. Athletic physique.
There, that’s enough for her to go on if I should vanish.
Lily
Oooh fun! Have we got ourselves a new love interest already?!
Oh my God. Does she not understand I could very well be in mortal danger?
Harper
Lily, he could be a people snatcher! His name might not even be Michel! No one mentioned a helicopter flight to the island. What if this is all a ruse?
You hear about this kind of thing all the time.
An official approaches and lets out a barrage of Seychellois Creole.
Michel points to me. The official rolls his eyes and then motions for me to enter the cockpit as if I’m an annoying tourist who is being difficult for no good reason.
Maybe they’re both in on this, or can I trust the official since he does wear a legitimate-looking uniform?
‘Tick tock,’ Michel says.
Against my better judgement I step into the cabin of the chopper. I don’t see anything nefarious like cable ties, handcuffs or the like. That’s a good sign.
Michel explains how to buckle the seatbelt and where to find headphones so we can still hear each other over the noise of the craft once it gets going.
He seems friendly enough but I’m on edge.
We take off, and I do my best not to bring up my breakfast. Soon, we’re over a blanket of endless rippling blue sea which, while beautiful, makes my stomach lurch.
I find myself holding my breath when dizziness hits.
I inhale like I’m a yogi and focus on staying calm.
An adrenaline junkie I’m not, but I can at least try to appreciate the view of the archipelago of islands beneath me, scattered like so many puzzle pieces.
Lily
Sneak a pic of the hottie and send it to me! L x
Lily is so wise! There’s no time to waste, as who knows how long I’ll have internet coverage for.
I open the camera and surreptitiously angle my phone toward Michel and snap a picture.
For some unfathomable reason the flash goes off in a blinding explosion of light inside the small cabin.
For a brief moment the world turns white.
The helicopter suddenly dips, nosedives, and when my vision returns all I see is us hurtling towards the deep blue water at an alarming pace.
I try not to panic as I let out a blood-curdling scream.
‘What are you doing?’ he yells as he fights for control against the down force of the wind. When we’re finally facing the correct way again he grins, as if we didn’t just face our imminent deaths (all my fault, I will admit). ‘If you want a photo to remember me by, you can at least ask.’
‘Oh, please.’ I roll my eyes. ‘It’s for insurance purposes. In case I go… missing.’ Better he knows I’m not to be messed with.
A frown mars his brow. ‘Missing?’
I nod. ‘Missing. I’m a moderately attractive thirty-one-year-old. I know how these things work, Michel, if that is even your real name.’ My heart beats so loud I can barely hear myself think. This spike in adrenaline cannot be good for my cortisol levels.
Michel bites down on his bottom lip so hard, it goes white. Is that acknowledgement that the jig is up? Or do we have some sort of helicopter malfunction on our hands? I quickly fire off his picture to Lily just in case she needs to investigate.
Lily
Oooh you lucky thing! Total thirst trap. He’ll soon make you forget all about Caleb!
Thirst trap? She’s lost her damn mind. What is she not getting? I’m at risk of going down in a fiery blaze of glory and I don’t even know the coordinates to tell her so she can arrive red-eyed and weepy to repatriate my body and lay me to rest back on home soil.
‘The only way you’ll go missing is if you blind me again by taking another unsolicited photo and the helicopter nosedives and we drown in the Indian Ocean.’
‘Yeah, sure, Michel.’ That’s exactly the kind of thing a kidnapper would say.
We hum along, the view enough to distract me so I try to put it out of my mind that some stranger is now in charge of my wellbeing and has already proven he can’t fly straight.
There are white sandy beaches and blue skies as far as the eye can see.
If he’s not a people snatcher and I make it to the resort, this forced break from real life won’t be such a hardship after all, despite leaving all I know.
Eventually I ease into conversation with Michel, while furtively checking my maps to make sure we’re indeed en route to the Last Chance Resort, which is hard to tell as my phone has now frozen.
The cheeky pilot is quick with a joke and slaps his leg before he says the punchline.
I like the guy, dammit. Even though he’s dazzlingly good looking, I’m not about to get caught up in any Love Island-type of shenanigans.
Plus who wants to date someone who flies into danger every day? Not me.
Our conversation trails off, so I gaze back to the map on my phone.
The resort is the biggest structure on the island by far.
Then there’s scattered housing areas. A school.
A church. A grocery store and a few Creole takeaway restaurants.
A huge sprawl of untouched rainforest. There are a few amenities like a golf course and a driving range.
Both seem like illogical pursuits in this intense heat.
It might be the kind of island paradise that is made more beautiful by slow living, the ability to do absolutely nothing but work quietly in the bookshop and read on a sun lounger in my downtime.
Bliss. The resort comes into view and is surrounded by thick lush rainforest as if bookending it. ‘Wow.’