Chapter 37
The bustling shopping area the concierge had recommended to Naomi was located on the water right in the thick of the St Lucia capital. A collection of small alleys lined with local boutiques and artisan stores, Castries possessed a vibrancy and charm that completely captivated her and Sam both.
The architecture was reminiscent of the area’s history, with most of the buildings retaining their original two-storey structures of wood, carved stone and even some of the same red brick familiar to back home, a legacy of former British colonialism.
However, the vibrant colours of the buildings were what drew the eye.
They were painted such that it almost seemed as if the entire spectrum was on display.
Pastel-pink walls with electric blue doors and bright yellow facades with blue and green trim, with racks of equally colourful clothing of kind out front, contrasted with the aquamarine water only steps away.
There were a couple of cruise ships moored in port as they ambled along the wooden boardwalk and Naomi could see their large striped dorsal fins towering above the nearby roofs.
The boardwalk itself was alive with people, tourists and locals alike, and as Sam and Naomi walked, they took turns trying to decipher the various accents they were hearing.
Visiting each store in turn, they marvelled at the level of skill and creativity of the local artisans, plus the humour of quick-witted local personalities.
They stopped for lunch at a pretty waterside eatery and shared a bottle of local wine, enjoying the pure (and rare) luxury of having nothing whatsoever to do with their day but relax.
While it would be a no-brainer in such a picturesque and vibrant area to take snaps for her social media channels, Naomi had since decided that she was off duty once and for all, and intended to keep this little slice of paradise all to herself.
Unlike Greg, she didn’t think it crucial to share her every waking detail with the world or to keep the stupid algorithm happy or what have you. The bloody algorithm could go into the sea for all she cared.
And rather more worryingly, she was beginning to feel the same way about Greg himself.
Greed was not an attractive trait and while she’d always admired her boyfriend’s savvy mind for numbers and keen work ethic, now she wondered whether the pursuit of money for money’s sake was the driving force behind his famous life plan.
Whereas that had never been a motivator for her.
While yes, of course it was nice not to have to worry about it, her social media had started out as a way to connect with people, but in the ensuing years had transitioned into a way to sell to them.
And that felt … wrong. But thinking back, hadn’t that been entirely driven by Greg?
‘So I’d better rein in the spending until I sort myself out with a job,’ Sam joked as if reading Naomi’s mind but she knew her friend was referring to her ex’s former role as the family breadwinner.
While Naomi admired Sam’s bravery in facing motherhood alone once she got home, she definitely didn’t envy her the task of having to provide and care for Nate all at once.
‘You’ll be fine. You could always set yourself up as an Insta-flogger like me,’ she suggested half-jokingly. ‘According to Greg it’s highly lucrative if you do it properly.’
‘No, thanks.’ Sam made a face and then looked at her. ‘Are you still enjoying all that? I notice you haven’t been posting much on this trip.’
While she was tempted to confide in Sam about her true feelings on her social media ‘career’ and Greg’s misguided hopes of scoring a hotel freebie on this trip, it was so tacky and …
downright miserly that she didn’t want to sully his reputation with Sam even further.
There had never been any love lost between them as it was.
‘I’m on holiday, remember?’ she laughed, by way of diversion. ‘And yes, it can be a pain, but I kinda have to keep it going now that I’ve taken the career break.’
‘You do intend to go back to teaching, though? I dunno, I get that the whole sharing stuff served a purpose during the pandemic, but surely it’s not a long-term career?’
Sometimes it was a little scary that Naomi’s best friend knew her so well.
‘We’ll see,’ she said noncommittally. But she wondered now if Sam had, in fact, been right in querying his motivation for this trip.
Did Greg intend to propose to her on her birthday, or had she got it all wrong?
Could this entire exercise be some kind of trial attempt to use Naomi’s so-called status to secure a getaway for them all purely at the hotel’s expense?
No, he couldn’t possibly be that calculating. While Greg had a keen business brain and was always mindful of money, budgeting and heavily focused on financial stuff, he wouldn’t honestly have dragged her and her family all the way here on the off-chance of a freebie holiday. Would he?
Naomi truly wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew was that, so far, this dream trip to St Lucia wasn’t quite turning out to be the life-changing experience she’d hoped for.
After lunch, Naomi and Sam headed back to the resort, laden down with the morning’s retail haul. Sam had bought a collection of locally made trinkets and a few pretty tops for herself, plus several funky little toys and cute clothes for Nate.
‘He’s going to look so cute in this.’ She grinned as she lifted out a purple tie-dyed shirt from its carrier bag.
‘Of course he will. I picked it out.’
‘You picked it out? I picked it out,’ her friend corrected, and their banter continued as they walked the poolside route through the gardens leading back to their wing.
Unlike many hotels that chose to surround their pool deck with concrete or tiles, Naomi loved that The Palms pool terrace made the most of the abundance of natural tropical flora, incorporating it directly into the design.
Or rather, the pool had been incorporated into the landscape.
Lush palms, towering birds of paradise and banana plants were dotted along the edges of the terrace, and here and there were brightly painted wooden Adirondacks beneath thatched parasols to ward off the brilliant Caribbean sun.
Then there was the waterfall, right above the pool itself; a design feature that seemed utterly authentic with its slate rock formations and planting that it looked to all the world like a secret hideaway in Hawaii or some other half-discovered place.
The crystal-clear water was especially enticing in this afternoon’s heat, and Naomi wished they’d had the foresight to wear swim togs beneath their clothes before heading out earlier.
Reaching the boardwalk across the sand, the two continued along the decked pathway to their wing, until Naomi thought of something.
‘Oh, we were going to ask about spa reservations …’ she reminded Sam, turning again toward the main building.
But Sam was in no mood to go traipsing back through the grounds in the afternoon heat. ‘Call them when we get back to the room. I need to shower and cool down.’
‘You go on ahead then, it’ll only take a sec.’ Naomi figured that once she got back to the room and to Greg, she’d forget about it altogether and, besides, she wanted to check the spa menu for the various options. ‘A massage for you, OK?’
‘Perfect.’ Sam was so hot and sweaty Naomi figured her friend couldn’t care less what they did as long as she didn’t have to help organise it, so she was happy to take one for the team.
Reaching the welcome cool of the shaded and airy lobby area but finding the concierge desk vacant, she approached reception to enquire there instead, idly keeping an eye out for that nice guest relations manager from yesterday.
She didn’t want Erin to think she was looking for special treatment of any kind.
‘Hello there, would you have a brochure for the spa?’ she asked the receptionist, who, according to her tag, was called Makellah. ‘I was hoping to book in some treatments for me and my friend tomorrow.’
‘Of course.’ The younger girl handed Naomi the relevant literature. ‘Just pick an option and time that works best and I can make the reservation for you. Your room number?’
Naomi rattled off the info while idly reading the brochure and settled on an evocative-sounding rainforest massage for Sam and a simpler mud bath for her.
Heaven.
Makellah duly made the arrangements and, as Naomi thanked her and was about to leave, the younger girl put a finger in the air. ‘Oh! I knew your suite number rang a bell. Your husband left something behind in the Azure restaurant earlier.’
‘Oh, he’s not actually my …’
‘Or it could have belonged to his lunch companion, the waiter wasn’t sure. Hold on, I’ll get it.’
Lunch companion? Naomi’s eyes widened. As far as she was aware, or according to what he’d told her, Greg was spending the day working.
While she didn’t necessarily expect he’d be holed up in the room all day and had ordered lunch in-room most days rather than ‘waste time’ going to the restaurant, it seemed he’d gone to the bother today.
And apparently had a companion too.
What the heck? Naomi didn’t know why she felt immediately so suspicious – the other person could well be her parents or one of her sisters even?
Though Makellah had said ‘companion’ singular and given the fact that her parents were mostly joined at the hip, and neither of her sisters even liked Greg, this seemed odd too.
The receptionist returned and saying, ‘Here you go,’ handed Naomi what looked like some kind of document holder, and she breathed an inward sigh of relief.
Glancing inside she saw it was indeed something business-related; lots of numbers, lists, and financial jargon that Naomi hadn’t the foggiest about, but was entirely Greg’s bag.
Still, who on earth could her boyfriend have been meeting for a business lunch here in St Lucia – at a resort hotel filled primarily with holidaymakers and honeymooners?
And more importantly, why hadn’t he mentioned it?