Chapter Thirteen
I didn’t know how to dress for our walk, nor indeed at exactly what time Dexter intended for us to set off, but at dinner he mentioned wearing long trousers and taking a hoodie.
It was difficult to curb my enthusiasm for an evening spent in Dexter’s company, alone. He hadn’t mentioned anyone else, so I assumed it would just be the two of us, and I liked the sound of that. I liked the sound of that very much. As Mariangeles and Federica chattered away, with Ella chipping in occasionally and Roisin seated as far away from me as possible, but still glaring daggers at me at every opportunity, I hugged to myself the fact I’d soon be in Dexter’s company, and only Dexter’s company. I prayed the anticipation wasn’t misplaced.
I excuse myself from the table and go to the bathroom. As I freshen up, dragging a brush through my unruly mass of curls, the door opens and Roisin swans in. Of course she does. I nod in acknowledgement. But again, because we’re alone and there’s no one to witness her surliness, she acts as if I’m not even there, before entering a toilet cubicle, but not before I notice how much more makeup than usual she’s wearing. I cough as her cloying perfume, which she has applied rather more liberally than advisable tonight, hits the back of my throat. I put my brush back in my bag and leave before my eyes start streaming. I’ve always been oversensitive to strong smells, well, manufactured ones– for some reason cow poo, or sloth poo, doesn’t have the same effect. As I walk back to the table, I reflect on what Roisin was wearing– skinny jeans encasing her endless legs, a top with a tight corset-like bodice and a few jangly bracelets. Not really the sort of apparel you’d think to wear for dinner with colleagues and friends in a sloth sanctuary. My jaw clenches involuntarily. She’s up to something.
After taking a few minutes strolling round the exhibition area to order my thoughts, I return to the table, then glance down at what I’m wearing– a navy T-shirt and grey cargo pants. Not the sexiest, but then Dexter did advise me to wear a hoodie, so I wasn’t going to get out the Dolce he’s so rigid, unswerving, never spontaneous.
I want to kiss Dexter so much, it gives me a physical pain beneath my breastbone.
‘You ready for our walk?’ he says into the darkness, jolting me out of my thoughts.
‘Yeah,’ I breathe.
We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds too long then I break the spell as otherwise I’m going to take the initiative and snog this man senseless right here, right now, in this courtyard, without caring who’s here to witness it. ‘Shall we go?’
Dexter stutters for a moment as if he too was caught up in the moment then he leads the way to the truck as I try to calm my racing heart and marshal my thoughts.
‘I have to be honest. This is not what I was expecting.’
Dexter laughs. ‘What were you expecting?’
‘I thought for some reason we’d just go for a pad about.’
‘That’s not always advisable here.’ He grins. ‘All sorts of things come out at night, but then that’s what we’re here for, with a guide, of course.’
Ramón, the guide, asks if we’re ready to set off. There are six of us on this night tour of the jungle. I still find it strange that it’s completely dark by half past six. And the sun sets so quickly here, unlike back home, where it doesn’t get properly dark straight away and is a much more gradual process. Here the darkness is heavy and all-encompassing and never more than when you’re in the middle of a rainforest with its unusual sounds and potential for threat around every tree trunk.
Dexter steadies me with a hand on my upper arm when I stumble as I follow Ramón deeper into the rainforest. I confess to being a little spooked at the total silence and darkness, broken only every so often by the cry of something unidentifiable. I thought the nature programmes Dad and I used to watch would have been of more use to me, but I’m in the dark– pun intended– as to what to expect and what many of these noises and smells are, although the pervading dampness isn’t hard to identify. I guess with all the rain here in the rainy season, that’s inevitable.
A rustling in the trees overhead has me peering upwards at the natural canopy created by the mesh of branches. I startle at the sound, because I know that monkeys aren’t nocturnal, and that’s what I’d mainly expect to find in the trees, in the daytime. Then a high-pitched chirp starts up, some kind of call. Ramón turns to us.
‘Red-eyed tree frog.’ He beams. ‘Something’s after him.’
I whirl around. What’s after him? How big is it? You don’t get jaguars in this part of the jungle, do you?
Dexter puts his hand on my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll just be a snake or a bat.’
‘A snake?’
‘Yeah, there’s quite a lot of snakes here. Didn’t you notice the way Ramón is bashing some of the foliage with his stick as he carves a path through for us?’
I shake my head.
‘That’s because there are snakes and we don’t want any surprises. They’re more scared of us than we are of them.’
I’m not sure that’s strictly true, but now may not be the time to mention that. Despite wanting to be a vet, snakes are not high on my to-nurture list. It’s the scales and the fact they shed their skins. They don’t have pythons here, do they? I decide to ask.
‘I don’t think so. I’ve never seen any. Anyway, most of Costa Rica’s snakes aren’t venomous.’
‘That’s good to know as I panic after I’m bitten, wondering if it’s one of the venomous ones or not,’ I mutter.
Dexter laughs. ‘Do you really think I’d bring you somewhere dangerous?’
I breathe out. ‘No.’
‘There you go then.’ He smiles. ‘I’d hardly want to put myself in danger either, would I?’
Again no.
‘No, what we’re looking for tonight are coatis, armadillos, ocelots and of course, sloths.’
Although I’m surrounded by sloths daily now, the idea of seeing them in the wild at night still thrills me.
We continue to follow Ramón as he literally cuts us a path through the dense jungle. How does he know where he’s going? How will we find our way back? We’ve strayed from the path, or rather, we weren’t ever part of the main tourist trail. From what Dexter says, this is private land, and the busy, vibrant Espadilla beach, with its many bars and restaurants, seems a world away, despite being nearby. I may want to visit the beach another day, as I’ve heard from Federica that it’s a lot of fun and the food is amazing, but for now, I’m happy to soak up the atmosphere of being on this tour with Dexter, and the other four, who have now begun to chat in earnest to Ramón. I’m already thinking if a predator does come, all I have to do is outrun the others. We’ve only just met. For once, I’d need to be selfish. Self-preservation, you understand.
Another rustling, this time from the bushes straight ahead. And then I see it. An anteater, or an armadillo? No, definitely an anteater; it has hair and no armour.
Ramón indicates for us to back up. He whispers something low to Dexter, who nods.
‘What did he say?’ I ask.
‘He says they can be aggressive when cornered, so it’s important we give it space.’
This trip is worrying me more and more as the night goes on. So much for wanting to be a vet. Maybe I’m only meant to observe wild animals like this from afar– by that, I mean on TV. Yet as my panic rises again, I stare in wonder, watching this odd-looking animal shuffle about on the ground, its elongated snout snuffling along, searching for its next meal.
‘I can’t believe the size of its snout,’ I whisper to Dexter.
‘It has a two-foot-long tongue, too.’
I try not to laugh. I can just imagine what smutty response Becca would have made to that comment.
Once our long-nosed friend disappears off into the undergrowth again, I exhale the breath I was holding, part from fear, part out of awe.
‘You OK?’ Dexter asks, his eyes brimming with amusement.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I reply rather snootily, which makes him burst out laughing until Ramón shushes him. Then I hear it again, the call of the tree frog.
‘There!’ I point. A red-eyed tree frog is less than two metres from us, and I can just about pick out all of its features, even with our torches lowered to the ground so as not to startle it.
‘He really is bug-eyed, isn’t he?’ I say.
One of the tourists overhears– an American, or perhaps Canadian– and snorts.
‘He sure is,’ he agrees. He takes a few photos with his impressive-looking camera– I guess it works better than my phone, which is completely useless at taking night-time photos– everyone and everything has red eyes when I do so. Now it’s my turn to snort. It wouldn’t matter in this case, as it’s a red-eyed tree frog. Maybe I’ll use my phone camera after all.
Dexter eyes me quizzically, staring at me until I feel I have to explain. He gives that lazy, sexy grin again and I gulp.
We settle back into walking again, Ramón in the lead, turning back every now and then to ensure we’re OK and haven’t been savaged by the non-existent jaguars in the jungle.
‘Aargh!’ The American woman jumps back in fright, and I career into Dexter, almost knocking him flying. This time it’s me who tries to right him before he ends up on the floor– the jungle floor, but as I catch hold of him, I only succeed in toppling over, too, and I land most inelegantly on top of him. ‘Oof!’ I say as all the air goes out of my lungs.
Dexter gazes up at me, his sky blue orbs burning into mine. ‘You know, if you wanted to get horizontal with me, you only had to say.’
I swat him as best as I can with my hand, from the position I’m in, which doesn’t prove very effective. I sit up, colour rushing to my cheeks, and it’s partly embarrassment at what he said, and which I didn’t deny, and partly at the feel of his body so close to mine, in such an intimate position. Were we not on the floor of the jungle and surrounded by five anxious faces, I’d be more inclined to remain ‘horizontal’ with him.
As I brush down my clothes, I meet his gaze again, but this time there’s a steely determination in me, and I detect humour and something else behind his eyes: lust? I do recall what it looks like, despite it being forever since anyone looked at me like that. And I find I’m quite enjoying the feeling.
‘I’m so sorry,’ the woman interrupts. ‘I saw something, something big, and it frightened me. It hissed at me.’
She’s still trembling as Dexter explains, ‘It was a raccoon.’
The woman’s husband tilts his head. ‘A raccoon?’
‘Yeah, we get them here too. They’re pretty active at night,’ Dexter explains.
The man nudges his wife and laughs. ‘A little ol’ raccoon scared you, darlin’. We get those in the back yard.’
They both giggle at this and laugh at how silly she was to be so scared.
Dexter and I exchange a look and await Ramón’s instructions.
‘That was amazing– terrifying, but amazing,’ I say when we return to the starting point of the tour and we’ve said goodbye to everyone. ‘I’ve had a lovely evening, Dexter. Thank you.’
‘All in a day’s work.’ He gives a goofy grin. ‘But we’re not done just yet.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘We’re not?’
‘Nope. C’mon.’
In the truck, he won’t tell me where we’re going, and I realise only when he pulls into a lay-by that we’re at the beach. How are we going to be able to see? Does he intend to have his wicked way with me on the sand with the lapping of the waves as our soundtrack? I don’t like sand getting everywhere. And it does get everywhere.
‘What are we doing?’ I ask.
Dexter’s lips curve into a smile as he gets out of the truck. ‘You’ll see.’
Intrigued, I follow him. Part of me loves surprises, part of me loathes them. I’m hoping, and praying, I like this one.
We step down onto the sand and Dexter catches my hand in his. ‘Just so you don’t stumble. We can keep each other upright. We’ve both been a bit clumsy, or is it unlucky, tonight in that respect.’
As he holds my hand, I can’t help but think how lucky I am. I’d happily stumble over and over with him. However, it is hard to see in front of me once we round a bend and lose the lights from the beachfront cafés and bars. Now we only have the torch from one phone to see by; Dexter was quite insistent on that. Enough for us not to go flying, but not enough to illuminate things too much. I’m paraphrasing what he said, but I’m close, and I must admit, I’m more curious than ever to see what he has in store.
He stops so suddenly I almost run into the back of him. ‘Here we are.’
‘What?’ I look out towards the ocean, but I can’t see anything.
Dexter takes hold of my other arm so he’s swinging me round the other way and then I gasp. The ocean is filled with tiny pinpricks of light– blue light– and it’s magical. It’s the only word to describe it. I’m actually speechless. It’s so beautiful, tears threaten behind my eyes. I’m here in the dark, with this gorgeous man, with these stomach-churning feelings inside me, witnessing this incredible sight. I’m so honoured, so lucky, and so humbled.
‘Bioluminescence.’
I turn in his arms to face him. ‘I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it before in real life. It’s beautiful.’
Dexter scans my face, his eyes searching mine. ‘You’re beautiful, Kat. So I wanted to bring you to this beautiful place and tell you so.’
Emotion overwhelms me and I struggle to keep myself in check until Dexter, still studying my face, lowers his mouth to mine, and I bring my lips up to meet his. And it’s every bit as good as I imagined it would be. And more.