Chapter 45
Back at the Last Chance Resort I’m happy in the knowledge that Gus and Xavier have talked it out. All we can pray for now is that the second cancer trial is successful. That’s all that really matters in the end, the love we share when our friends need it most.
It’s late so my plan is to get dinner and thank Mariola for covering for me today. As I wander past the lagoon, someone grabs my arm and pulls me behind a palm frond. ‘Don’t scream.’
‘Is there any reason you couldn’t have just used my name? And why pull me into the garden? There could very well be spiders in here. I haven’t really done my research about such a thing but I’m presuming the tropics host a multitude of—’
‘Doesn’t mind a chat, does she?’ Brian says to Doris and the three Lucys.
‘Will you pipe down?’ Lucy admonishes me.
‘OK. But are there spiders? Because if it’s all the same, I’d much rather have this discussion on the grass.’
‘For goodness’ sake, let’s just move or we’ll never hear the end of it,’ Lucy Lou mutters.
They promptly drag me from the fronds and into the light. ‘What is it?’
‘Well, as you know, Lucy Lou is our resident quiz champion…’
‘Do you cheat at that too?’ I can’t help but tease.
‘She’s not taking this seriously, is she?’ Lucy Lou pouts.
‘Sorry, I am.’
‘Listening ears on, Harper, because this concerns you,’ Doris spits.
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. Why must you always act so surprised?’
‘OK, sorry, so Lucy Lou is the resident quiz champion and that relates to me how?’
Brian whacks something from his leg, probably a tarantula. Not sure if they’re found in these parts, but if so it’s his own fault.
‘Well, that’s the thing. So we were participating in our usual Thursday evening pub quiz, and it was all going rather swimmingly; even Brian was keeping the crass jokes to a minimum, which is all we can ask for really.’
‘He did say that rather off-colour joke about—’
‘Hey, I didn’t know that sort of thing was offensive these days! You can’t blame an old bloke for that.’
‘He’s not woke,’ Lucy says.
‘I’ve only had a few beers! I’m in charge of my faculties.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘That’s not what woke means.’
‘Ladies. The quiz?’
‘Right. So there we were, most likely to win the quiz evening, just like always…’
‘With a very small bet riding on it with our table mates, a lovely young couple from Australia.’
‘Poor fools. And?’
‘A question came up on the board. An anagram. This is where Lucy Lou dominates. She’s got one of those analytical minds, sees letters in a way that—’
I’m going to be here all night at this rate. ‘What does her analytical mind have to do with me?’
‘It jogged her memory. Tia Amboro.’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s an anagram!’ Lucy Lou crows.
‘For what?’ I try and fail to unscramble the letters.
‘I am a robot.’
My mouth falls open. ‘No!’
‘Yes! Here, look at this.’ Lucy Lou hands me a piece of paper with her scribbles. I follow the letters. It’s true. But what does this mean?