Chapter 39
The three Lucys have not been outside two minutes when one of them calls for me.
I duly go as summoned. ‘Yes, your majesty?’ I shade my face against the bright sunlight.
‘Michel’s here and wanted to show you his impressive biceps.’
Sure enough, he’s taken up a position in a day bed beside the ladies. ‘I’ve already seen your impressive biceps and your Lycra-clad quads, remember?’
‘Lycra? This isn’t the eighties, Harper.
’ He turns to the three Lucys. ‘Do you know she took unsolicited snaps of me while I was flying? Unfortunately for her the flash was on, so the jig was up. I didn’t make a big song and dance about it, but it was a bit much, don’t you think? ’ He flashes his pearly whites at me.
‘That’s not exactly how it happened.’
‘You don’t have to be embarrassed, Harper. If a man did that, though, it would be a different story. Am I right?’
‘I took that one photo for insurance. For my own personal safety.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He draws out the sounds.
The three Lucys heads are on a swivel as they go back and forth between us as we argue the merits of when it’s OK to take a photo without permission.
‘Michel didn’t feel it necessary to show me any credentials and I was expecting Gus, so there you have it.’
‘Credentials! Like I work for the FBI and carry a badge around or something.’
‘You do have a pilot’s licence and your staff lanyard that you could have showed her, Michel.’
‘Where’s the fun in that?’
‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to check on Turt.’
I’m reminded of the tortoise tattoo on his arm that I saw the day he picked me up for the fateful helicopter ride. ‘You’re part of the health care team for Turt?’
‘Why are you so shocked? Is it because I’m a man of many talents? I keep a close eye on our tortoise friend. Since Gus “left”, Turt’s been suffering separation anxiety.’
‘How do you know?’
‘From his vitals and also the sad gleam in his eyes. Look at him.’ It’s true, Turt really does look morose, like he’s pining for Gus, but I’m not an expert on tortoise emotional states, and to hear Michel confirm it is hard.
We need Gus back, no question about it, even if it’s only briefly to boost Turt’s mood.
Michel takes a range of medical devices from his bag.
‘Are you trained to take his vitals?’ The guy is a pilot and a tortoise carer?
He scoffs. ‘Do you think the conservation team would leave Turt in the care of an untrained person? Turt, who is famous around these parts?’
‘Maybe.’
‘No! Turt is a living legend and I keep a close eye on him, hence my early morning jog past every day.’
‘Right.’
‘Once a month, I do a more thorough check.’
I glance over at Turt, worried now that the reptile might be quietly suffering and missing his bookseller pal. But what if it’s more serious? What if Turt’s got some serious malady and no one has informed Gus?
‘Is he going to be OK without Gus?’
‘I’m not sure, but if Gus returned that would be a better outcome for them both.’
‘Where is Gus?’
‘He’s taking a break.’
‘Let me guess, he stole a bunch of money and took a speedboat to Mahé.’
He gasps.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘You shouldn’t throw accusations like that around. Gus is a good man!’
‘I – it – Doris and the Lucys… ah… it was a joke.’
‘Oh.’ His face breaks into a wide smile. ‘I forget you’re British.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘The sense of humour thing.’
‘What?’
‘What, what?’
‘We’re going around in circles.’
The three Lucys don’t even pretend to read; instead, they watch our back and forth with intense interest, which means this conversation will be shared around the resort with some exaggerated flair by lunchtime. ‘How about I check Turt and you decide where I’m taking you for dinner?’
‘Excuse me?’ He skips ahead so fast I can’t keep up. A ploy to fool me into a dinner date probably. I’ve seen the way Michel glances at Mariola; this whole farce is just that – something to keep the boredom at bay.
‘Would you prefer I cooked you a nice romantic dinner at my place?’
Huh, his place… Which reminds me. ‘Why don’t you live in the resort like the other staff?’
There’s a glint of something hard in his eyes and when he crosses his arms he says, ‘I don’t like being told what to do when I’m not working.’
‘By Xavier, you mean?’
‘Who else?’
‘What’s with the crazy rivalry?’ I’m so sick of him sidestepping the question.
The three Lucys sit up on their sun loungers. ‘Oh God, everyone knows it’s best to keep those two apart. It’s like a bullfight when they circle each other. For what? Some machismo thing? Men, honestly, testosterone-fuelled fools at times,’ Lucy spits.
‘But why?’
‘Gee, thanks, Lucy.’ Michel sends a frown her way. ‘We used to be friends until he came back to “save” the resort and made changes that upset a lot of people. I don’t like a guy who has dollar signs for eyeballs, simple as that.’
It’s a wonder Michel hasn’t been fired. He doesn’t exactly hide his hostility for Xavier. I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of helicopter pilots on the island, much like there wasn’t a sous chef to be found when they needed one, so that’s Michel’s saving grace.
‘But isn’t it Xavier’s right as the owner to make changes?’
He contemplates that for a beat. ‘We all share this island, and the changes he is proposing will affect us all. Have you seen the plans for the Cabana Bar and the promenade? Why does he need to develop it when nature has already done it for us? It’s perfect as it is, simply as a shoreline with a small tiki bar that’s made from natural elements. ’
‘Wait. You’ve seen the plans?’ Lucia asks. ‘We haven’t seen them. Not even Doris has and she’s Mrs Bastille’s best friend.’
Michel colours. ‘Forget I mentioned it.’ No doubt the cousins have schemed someone to get a hold of the plans by sweet-talking someone in the know.
I understand Michel’s point about not developing the beach into a fancy promenade, but Xavier is a business owner and guests do expect certain amenities when they pay top dollar to stay at a five-star resort.
‘It’s his prerogative and he’s only developing the land along the beachfront of the resort so there will still be plenty of the island that remains untouched, right?
’ Yes, I’m probing when I am probably only helping enflame Michel’s upset with Xavier, but still, I’d like to know that his heart really does lie here at the Last Chance Resort and the people who make it a home.
A shadow crosses Michel’s face. ‘Remember those suits I told you about that I took on the joy flight? They own some huge conglomerate. Rumour has it that Xavier has done a deal with them as partners for the undeveloped land behind the resort. Done a deal with the devil more like. I told you this would happen. The guy came back with an ulterior motive. It was never about rejuvenating the Last Chance Resort.’
It’s the way of the world, so why does it feel like a kick in the teeth? ‘How do you know about the deal?’
He grunts. ‘You know what the island is like by now, Harper. Word spreads fast. It gets worse; he’s done some kind of dodgy deal with the Last Chance Resort to fund that project.’
‘What kind of deal with the resort? He wouldn’t give up this place, surely?’ Not with how tied to it his own mother is.
‘Word is that he’s sold a stake of this resort to fund the other one.
He’s still the majority shareholder here and retains control of the Last Chance Resort.
Apparently there were some conditions to the deal, including that the Cabana Bar be demolished and the new promenade will take its place and be expanded down the length of the beach.
And who knows what else! I’m sure Xavier won’t give a hoot about this place once the rainforest next door is razed and he’s ready to build his great big eyesore. ’
‘Wouldn’t local council, or environmental groups, petition to stop this?’
He shakes his head sadly. ‘It’s private land, there’s nothing they can do.’
I recall our first dinner where Xavier spoke about making the Last Chance Resort more eco-friendly. Or was he really alluding to a whole new resort? A different vision entirely? ‘Why would he do that?’
From what I know of Xavier, he just doesn’t seem the type. Although maybe I don’t know him as well as I think. Powerful men hide behind charisma all the time. Is he just like I first thought? The type of guy to pull the rug from under you like this?
‘Money. Why else? The Xavier I once knew would never have considered such a thing. The guy who returned, however, after his years abroad, would. Leaving the island changed him, and not for the better.’
I grapple to make sense of it all. ‘Where did he go when he left the island?’
‘He studied finance in the US. He didn’t get along with his stepdad at the time, and I don’t blame him for that.
Mrs Bastille has been unlucky in love, and Xavier had had enough of watching them milk her for money – I guess that’s why he got so obsessed with it, having seen firsthand how easily it can be taken away.
Why do women always fall for the bad guy? ’
‘Well, because that rebellious, sizzling, commanding presence is hot and I guess we secretly hope the guy is a good one underneath all that. Blame romance novels for painting alphas in such a good light… Although lately cinnamon roll heroes have been having their moment, not to forget my personal favourite, the golden retriever types who are—’
‘It was a rhetorical question, Harper.’
‘Right, sorry.’
‘My point is Xavier changed, became harder probably because at one stage it was touch and go whether they’d lose this place because of Mrs Bastille’s latest divorce. But why should we, the islanders, have to suffer for their bad judgement?’
‘This feels perilously close to victim blaming…’
‘Just calling it like it is. They do have a responsibility to the community, don’t they? Islanders are loyal to them, always have been. Keeping us all informed is the least they can do. But they won’t as they know we’ll rally. We’ll fight it.’