Lopud
Checking the map on his phone, Lloyd left the promenade and cut through the public gardens.
He wished he had the time to explore them; the cool shade under the trees was beguiling, and between their trunks he could glimpse a fascinating array of statues and columns, but he couldn’t afford to be late.
Thank goodness Ana and Natali had come back on the four o’clock ferry.
Filip, the manager of the community centre, had dropped by to see him this morning to suggest Lloyd took the library books with him for story time – which was a great idea – but by the end of a long, hot day he’d needed to freshen up, and there hadn’t been time for both.
So Ana had taken over, and shooed him back to the boat.
When he’d asked how her meeting with Ivana had gone, she’d rolled her eyes and said something about an arse-kicking session, but she hadn’t seemed too worried, so perhaps she’d somehow managed to smooth things over.
It’d be a bloody miracle if she had, but he couldn’t waste any more time worrying about it now.
It was going to be daunting enough reading three short stories to under-fives in a language he was far from confident with, but he’d checked some of the trickier pronunciations with the girls last night so he was as ready as he would ever be.
As long as it increased footfall to the library, he didn’t care if he made a fool of himself.
He just didn’t want to have a negative effect on this island as well.
As it was, the thought of returning to Kor?ula on Friday was filling him with absolute dread.
He found the community hall in the far corner of the park.
It was a squat, concrete building, with a plaque dated May 1963 next to its open front doors.
No wonder it looked as though it had seen better days, but a buzz of voices drifted from inside, punctuated by children shrieking happily.
It was clearly well used and well loved.
Ana was behind the library table in the foyer, and to Lloyd’s surprise it was surrounded by teenagers. Filip emerged from the mêlée to meet him.
“Lloyd, dobrodo?li. There’s table tennis club in the main hall, and they’re taking an interest in the books, which is what I hoped would happen.”
“That’s great. Thank you so much, Filip.”
“No, thank you. Your story time is a good addition to our programme and as we have no budget for events it’s hard to provide different things.”
Lloyd indicated the room to his left where the noise of children playing had gone up several decibels. “I take it a few have turned up.”
Filip beamed. “Oh, yes. Seven in all. Come and meet them.”
Once Filip had introduced Lloyd to the parents, he clapped his hands and told the children to sit down. The wooden floor was scattered with large, brightly coloured cushions and as they settled, Lloyd slid onto one too.
“You can have a chair, you know.” Filip told him, but Lloyd shook his head.
“It’s easier to make eye contact down here.
” He smiled confidently, but as Filip explained what was to happen, the inside of his mouth went dry.
He had so little experience with the smallest of children; nothing to draw on at all.
Apart from one spell during his teacher training, he’d always worked with teenagers – he knew nothing about infants.
But he did. He really did. He was a father, damn it.
He’d read to Ruth until she was almost eleven, books they’d cherished together, so of course he knew how to do this.
Clearing his throat, he began the first story, each word becoming easier than the last. Seven sets of eyes were glued to him; a teddy bear clutched tightly, a thumb rammed into the tiniest rosebud mouth.
His heart soared. It was going to be all right.
Even once he’d finished it was a while before he and Ana could dismantle the library, as most of the parents wanted to borrow something – as had a few of the table tennis players, which more than doubled their numbers for the day.
But finally, as the books went back into their boxes, Filip shook Lloyd’s hand.
“I think we can say that was a big success,” he told him. “Is there any chance you’d consider doing it again?”
“I don’t see why not. It fits with our sailing schedule and I really enjoyed it. The children I used to teach were older – I didn’t realise how much fun the little ones could be.”
Ana grinned. “You were a natural with them, Lloyd. The way you did all the different voices for the characters.”
“There is something else,” Filip went on. “I don’t suppose you would consider relocating the library here?”
“Here?” The possibilities were running through Lloyd’s mind.
“Yes. You would get far more footfall of local people, and I’m always looking for new things to add to our programme.”
It would be an absolute godsend, not least because it was cooler inside. But the decision wasn’t Lloyd’s alone.
“Ana? What do you think?”
A moment of uncertainty flashed across her eyes, but then she said, “It’s your call, Lloyd. If you think it will be better, then we’ll do it.”
Lloyd turned back to Filip. “Let’s say we’ll try it for the next two weeks and see what happens.”
Filip slapped him on the back. “Fantastic. I’ll put up some posters. See you next Tuesday then.”
They were halfway back to the boat when it dawned on Lloyd that Ana was unusually talkative, but had said nothing more about her trip to Dubrovnik.
In fact, she was going on and on about how Natali had been planning to take Obi for a walk, then go to the minimarket to find something quick for supper, maybe something to barbecue on deck once they reached ?ipan; then about a man they passed, who’d set out a tablecloth to one side of the path and was selling cheap plastic toys; and about the trip boat that looked like a pirate ship which had just arrived in the harbour.
He stopped, leaning on the sack trolley.
“Ana, it’s OK. If you don’t want to tell me what happened with Ivana right now, if you need time to process it first, then I’m fine with that.
” He wasn’t, of course, but he couldn’t bear to see her like this, scrabbling for the next sentence, when normally a companionable silence would do.
She looked up at him. “Thanks, Lloyd. Over supper. I’ll tell you and Natali together.
But rest assured, she fully accepts you didn’t steal that purse.
” Which presumably meant it was about all Ivana had accepted, and the thought was a thump to his solar plexus, bringing him tumbling down from the high of the community centre. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
They walked on to the harbour, the soft rays of early evening sunshine making the monastery and its church tower glow golden grey above them. This was a pretty, pretty little place, but would he be back here next week? Was that why Ana had hesitated over Filip’s offer?
As they began to unload the boxes, Lloyd felt truly sick inside.
They were beginning to achieve so much with the library; reaching out to children of all ages with the books, talking to the older ones so they could practise their languages.
They were doing so well on three of the five islands, and he couldn’t bear to let all this go; to walk away, with the job only half done.
And that was without even considering the personal cost of being forced to go home with yet another failure behind him.
He carefully stacked each and every box, trying to put off his return to the galley for as long as he dared.
Of course he was being a coward, but he really didn’t know how he’d face the conversation he knew was coming.
What he would say, how he’d react, when Ana told him Ivana had said he had to go.
One thing was for sure, he couldn’t pretend to be sorting the books forever.
When he finally shut the cabin door behind him, he was astonished to hear giggling from the galley, which was about the last thing he’d expected.
What the hell was going on? He’d been about to call out that he was going to phone Ruth, but curiosity got the better of him and he climbed the steps.
Ana could barely contain her excitement as she thrust a plastic bag into his hands. “We have a surprise for you,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.
He looked inside. Teabags. Two large boxes of English Breakfast teabags. He dropped them on the floor and hugged the girls to him as though his very life depended on it.
“You two are bloody amazing. You have so much shit of your own to think about at the moment, and you remembered my teabags. That’s so…
” His voice cracked. As they clung together, it felt like they were an island, a tiny island, buffeted by the sea.
But one island, all the same. Whatever Ana had to tell them, they were in this together.