Chapter 50
ONE YEAR LATER
‘We are gathered here today to celebrate the wedding of…’
‘Wait, wait! The three Lucys are on their way, two minutes tops!’ Doris calls out and resumes her position in the bridal party.
I take a moment to compose myself. I’m already crying and the happy couple haven’t even said their vows yet.
Xavier squeezes my hand and passes me another tissue.
My mascara is probably running in rivulets down my face, but it can’t helped.
Some love stories happen fast, like they did for Xavier and me, that instant spark, a strange recognition when your soul recognises its mate.
Others take a lifetime before the stars align.
Like our bride and groom today. The timing was never right. They’d been entangled elsewhere until one day, across a crowded Cabana Bar, she stopped and gazed into his eyes and read the longing in them, the love that he’d kept in his heart but never let slip from his mouth for decades.
And now here they stand, hands clasped on the beach in front of the Cabana Bar where they met forty-seven years ago when she had big dreams for this patch of paradise and he had a safe place to call home.
‘Brian and Sarah.’
‘Your mum’s name is Sarah?’ I whisper to Xavier. I’m so used to everyone calling her Mrs Bastille, Xavier’s dad’s surname that she never let go of, despite other marriages.
He laughs. ‘Yes. Do you think she’ll take his surname?’ It means a lot to Xavier to have that connection with his dad still and that his mum always honoured that by keeping it.
‘Who knows, in this day and age, he might take hers.’
‘Brian Bastille, has a nice ring to it.’
‘Would it bother you, if he did?’
‘Not at all. Brian’s a great guy. Really helped me.’
My heart melts. ‘Did he teach you how to ride your first bike? How to kick a ball? Play catch?’
Xavier frowns. ‘No, he gave me some devil’s claw for my back pain and I haven’t had a twinge since.’
‘Devil’s claw? Isn’t that illegal?’ I recall those suspicious packages Brian wanted to get picked up and dropped off at the bookshop. Honestly, I’m shocked that Xavier would take some illegal black-market drug!
‘Illegal, no. It’s a herbal supplement. He’s a distributor for one of the most trusted ayurvedic companies on Mahé. Does a roaring trade because of how scarce the products are.’
I scoff. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you got a great crypto tip from him.’
‘I did! I’m close to making enough to buy back the investors’ share of the Last Chance Resort. That’s all thanks to Brian. He only shares his intel with a select few.’
As usual, I don’t know who to trust on this island, an island where tall tales all seem to have a gleam of truth. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
I hold in laughter. ‘And I suppose Doris’s husband died when the boat capsized and he got eaten by a black-tipped reef shark?’ The stories get more outlandish the longer I’m here, but this one they’ve stuck to and it’s rather frustrating because I’d like to know what really happened.
‘No, of course not!’
‘What a relief.’
‘It was a white-tipped reef shark and it didn’t happen around here, I might add. But no one was all that sad because he was a bad guy. A sausage factory would have been too good an end for him if you get my drift.’
So everything they’ve all said has been true – the herbal supplements, the crypto, Gus and his speedboat escape; everything? ‘Ooh. How did the boat capsize?’
‘Accidents happen. All I know is that the three Lucys were on board and said it was a freak accident – boat went off course into choppy waters.’ I glance at the three Lucys as they arrive bickering and squabbling, despite the occasion.
‘How did they survive but he didn’t?’
‘Strong swimmers. All that yoga they do.’
I have a newfound respect for these little old ladies, although I’m sure they’d never commit homicide, even to protect one of their own; they’re not monsters. The ocean is a treacherous place.
‘We are gathered here today…’
There’s no time to ponder what fictions are hidden among the truth as Mrs Bastille says her vows, her voice loud and clear over the crashing of the waves. Everyone does a collective ‘aww’ when ring bearer Turt shuffles slowly up the aisle with Gus.
Gus takes the ring box that’s been gently attached by a ribbon to Turt’s shell and hands it to Brian.
* * *
After the ceremony, we gather around the Cabana Bar. While it’s been rejuvenated, it’s held on to its rustic charm, thatched roof and all. The wily expats did dig up some dirt on the investors, and a few idle threats were bandied about is my best guess…
The promenade has been developed, there was no fighting that, but it’s mostly made from recycled timbers and curves into a long stretch of pathway, filled with seating areas and plenty of fragrant frangipanis and tropical plants that draw Seychelles sunbirds with their squeaky playful birdsong.
Lily winds her way over to me, followed by the three Lucys.
She’s only here for a summer holiday; at least, that’s she what she tells me.
I happen to know that this place is like Hotel California, and not quite as easy to leave as first thought.
After the Mai bombshell, her cousin moved back home, tail between her legs, and accepted her fate from The Mums. There were lectures galore, and so many apologies slung my way that in the end, I had to politely ask them to stop because the nineteen-year-old had learned her lesson and then some.
Last I heard Mai was doing well after enrolling in university to complete a degree in psychology, of all things.
I’m happy she’s enjoying it and has found some new friends and left the old gang behind.
‘Lily tells us she’s all set to return to London after her holiday, but couldn’t that guy she likes just come here?’ Lucy asks. Lily’s only been here a week and the three Lucys and Doris are quite taken with her.
The Zhōus are over the moon that Lily has finally introduced them to a significant other, and she’s only just managing to hold them back when it comes to jumping ahead with talk about future weddings and grandbabies.
Tyler moved in with her not long after Mai moved out so I quite like the idea that my old room is there for me when I want to return.
Just for a holiday! Being a top-tier best friend, she picked up my collection of book babies from storage, so they’re back in place on the shelves just waiting to be read again one day.
It’s a relief to know they’re not sitting in a box in a dark, dingy facility.
‘I know, she insists that the magic of the island won’t affect her and London is where her heart is.
’ As much as I’d love to have my best friend here forever, it won’t happen, not unless we handcuffed her to a palm tree.
We’ll have fun crisscrossing the ocean to visit each other or meeting somewhere in the middle.
Our friendship is strong enough to cope and a few months ago Xavier upgraded the internet, so video calls actually work.
‘Lily’s in love, and who can blame her with a guy like that. She’s told us how sweet and utterly romantic he is,’ Lucia says, letting out a hiccough.
‘How many glasses of bubbles have you had?’ Doris asks with a frown. This is the same Doris who naps in the bookshop swivel chairs after her mid-morning happy hour excesses most days.
‘Eleventeen.’
‘Eleven – what?’ Lucy throws back. ‘Is this related to the incident last night?’
Doris chuckles. ‘Ooh, the “incident”! I heard Lucia was creeping out of a certain someone’s room doing the walk of shame and accidentally fell into the pool!’
I laugh. Poor Lucia, trying to be so stealthy and failing. ‘Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?’ I ask.
Lucia blushes. ‘None of your business.’
‘Khalil,’ Lucy Lou offers. ‘Everyone around here is coupling up like that reality show Mariola makes us all watch.’
‘Speaking of…’ I say as Mariola wanders over, Michel holding her hand.
‘Why are my ears burning?’ Mariola asks with a grin.
‘They were talking about Lucia and Khalil hooking up,’ Lily says. ‘And then—’
‘Hooking up? What are we, teenagers! You make it sound so infantile!’
‘You do have a glow about you,’ Lucy tells Lucia. ‘As if love agrees with you. Maybe I need to partake in a summer fling…’
‘Excuse you!’ Lucia spits out. ‘What Khalil and I have is not a summer fling. It’s…’
‘A situationship?’ Lucy offers.
‘A – what? You and your Gen Z lingo. Lily, this is on you for teaching her more of that!’
‘Sorry, it kind of got ingrained in me after living with Mai.’
‘I’ll forgive you this once, Lily. But no, Lucy, what Khalil and I have is not a situationship!’
‘Ah.’ Lucy holds up a finger. ‘Friends with benefits! A snuggle buddy!’
‘You, my dear, are getting dangerously close to swimming with the fishes.’
Lucy cackles. ‘Oh, I hope so. I’d love my death to be something grand, theatrical. A Mafia hit. I mean, it’s legendary, isn’t it?’
The three Lucys chat about what kind of deaths they hope for and how if it’s something mundane, they’re going to ask for a do over.
‘How?’ Doris says. ‘How is that even possible?’
‘Don’t you start, Doris,’ Lucy Lou says. ‘Or I will come back and haunt you.’
‘Pfft.’
Mrs Bastille and Brian join us, hugging and canoodling like newlyweds do. ‘What have we missed while we were off getting our photos?’ Brian asks.
‘Ah…’ I struggle to think of a response.
Lily jumps in. ‘We’re talking about love, and how it seems to be the season for it.’
It’s true, it does seem to be the summer of love in these parts.
‘I’ve got a bit of a confession to make,’ Brian says, cheeks blushing furiously. ‘Harper, I’m sorry to have lied to you, but there is no Darry. Or in fact Barry. That was all me.’
I refrain from saying duh while everyone shoots him confused looks.