LUCY
‘I’ll skip the food,’ she told Mark. ‘I’m feeling rough again. I think I’ll just go and have a quick lie-down while everyone eats.’
His eyebrows knitted together. Stop looking so bloody worried about me. ‘Do you want me to bring my lunch down – I could sit with you in the cabin?’
As she walked along the passageway towards their cabin, something edged at the corner of her vision, something out of place.
One of the other cabin doors was ajar.
The master stateroom.
Lucy froze, her heartbeat picking up. Then, as softly as she could, she took one quiet pace towards Rory and Talia’s room. Rory and Talia are above deck. So why is the door open? Is Michaela back on duty and in there cleaning the cabin, maybe?
She approached the door and listened; all was quiet, but she couldn’t be sure none of the crew were in there. Safer to keep watch from a distance for a few minutes, to make sure the coast was clear.
She stepped softly back to her and Mark’s cabin, unlocked the door and stepped into the room, wrapping her fingers around the door’s edge to keep it open a crack.
She stayed there, just behind the door, watching, for what felt like ages – but was probably only fifteen minutes – until she was completely certain that there was no one in Rory and Talia’s cabin.
She crept out of the cabin and stepped carefully across the corridor to the master stateroom.
Cautiously, she nudged the door open, inch by inch; when she had a clear view of the whole cabin – bed neatly made, water bottles refilled – she felt a rush of elation.
There was no one in there. Johanna must have been in a hurry this morning – she was the only stewardess on housekeeping duties today, after all – and somehow forgot to properly close the door.
Now’s my chance.
After a quick glance back into the passageway to quadruple check she was alone, Lucy darted into the cabin and pulled the door back to the position she’d found it in – almost closed, just a few inches open.
Her eyes scanned the enormous suite.
I need to be quick. Where should I start?
She paced to the desk at the opposite side of the room, in front of the vast floor-to-ceiling windows.
There Rory’s laptop sat, next to a gleaming golden sculpture shaped like a sailing yacht; she tapped on the touchpad and a request to enter his password popped up.
She wouldn’t have a clue what it was; she couldn’t risk getting it wrong and locking the screen – that would be too much of a giveaway. She sighed. What else?
She looked around the desk. To the right of the computer was a small, leather-bound notebook. She opened it and saw Rory’s scribbled handwriting on the first page.
She brought it closer and tried to make sense of the messy scrawl. Her heart sank as she realized it was just a to-do list with various client names and a few dates next to them. She recognized them all – there was nothing here that she didn’t already know about.
She flicked to the next page and skimmed it; nothing of use. Same for the page after, and the one after that.
‘What the hell are you doing in here?’
Shit. Lucy dropped the notebook and turned in the direction of Mark’s voice. He stood in the doorway, his face a picture of confusion and shock.
‘Mark! You made me jump.’ What am I going to say?
Her brain scrambled for something plausible.
‘I was just looking for some sales figures that Rory was asking me about this morning – he mentioned it over breakfast. I was sure I gave them to him already, so I wanted to check. But I can’t find them – they’re not here.
’ She shrugged, then walked to the doorway to join him.
‘What are you doing down here, anyway? Have you already finished lunch?’
He crossed his arms. ‘Yeah – I ate fast so I could come and check on you. But how did you even get in here?’
Lucy smiled. ‘Nothing sinister. The door was open. Come on, let’s go up – I’m feeling better, and it must be about time for our trip to shore.’
Mark wouldn’t even look at her as they climbed into the tender and Kai sailed them to Tiahura’s tiny beach.
He doesn’t believe me; he knows I’m up to something.
Once they’d docked, he walked on with the group – minus Sam, who was skipping the tour because of his injured foot – without so much as a backward glance in her direction.
Lucy drifted away from him and everyone else; away from the thatched beach huts, towards a thicket of palm trees lining the edge of the sand. She found a spot beneath the shade of a palm tree and sank to the ground.
Hot tears gathered in her eyes; she blinked them away and stared out to sea.
She might not have planned things this way, but she’d wanted to make the best of this trip.
She’d hoped it would make things better between them, this time together in a tropical paradise – but instead, she and Mark were drifting further apart.
And it’s all my fault.
Lucy knew she was driving a wedge between them. She’d been so distracted, ever since she’d joined Ashworth. So hell-bent, focused on one thing only, there’d been no space for her relationship. Sometimes she wondered if she shouldn’t have taken the job in the first place …
‘Lucy?’ She looked to her left and saw Eleni walking towards her. ‘Come on – everyone’s waiting for you.’
Lucy hesitated. She’d have liked another moment alone to enjoy the peace. But at the thought of holding everyone up, or causing a scene, she relented.
Eleni was perfectly made-up again today.
Lucy was a few years younger – Eleni had said once in a meeting that she’d been working as a land buyer for more than a decade, which must put her in her early thirties, at least. But somehow, at twenty-eight, Lucy suspected she looked far older: pale and dry-skinned and tired in a way that felt more pronounced in the presence of someone as gorgeous as Eleni.
Something about her carefully managed good looks irked Lucy – as if she were doing it on purpose to draw attention to Lucy’s unglamorous appearance.
It reminded her of the cool girls at school – the mean ones who whispered cruel jokes and turned their backs as she walked towards them.
Those girls turned up every day, rain or shine, with lip gloss and lashings of mascara too.
But perhaps she was being unfair. Lucy wasn’t at school any more, and Eleni wasn’t either. Besides, it’s not her fault she’s beautiful. I should give her a chance.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘let’s go.’
They began strolling to where everyone was gathered in awkward silence. Lucy’s gaze was fixed on the sand beneath their feet when she noticed something strange.
‘What’s happened to your shoes?’ she asked Eleni.
The question came out in a more accusatory tone than she’d meant it to – but Lucy was baffled.
It was one thing having to go shoeless on the yacht, but there were crabs and sharp stones and goodness only knew what else on the beach – it all looked like an overwhelming assault to the senses, never mind being dangerous.
Eleni frowned. ‘I left them with Nick. I love it – the sand is so warm. I like feeling it in between my toes.’ Lucy grimaced before she could stop herself. ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Eleni asked, looking bewildered.
Lucy shook her head. ‘Oh – nothing, really. I think I’m the weird one. I just hate it. Stepping on anything crunchy or squishy or sharp. And sand. I really, really hate sand.’
Eleni burst out laughing. ‘You hate sand? Whoops – do you think you’ve come to the wrong place, maybe? Not much escape from it here.’
Lucy flushed. She wasn’t sure whether Eleni was mocking her or trying to be friendly. Either way, this sort of banter wasn’t one of Lucy’s greatest skills. Eleni seemed a natural at it, though – it was probably part of how she’d ended up one of the top land buyers in the business.
After a few beats of awkward silence, Eleni asked, ‘So, are you … having a nice time so far?’ Eleni was smiling, though Lucy thought it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Now there was something Lucy was good at: taking in the detail of people’s facial expressions, picking up on subtle cues that others didn’t.
A skill she’d carefully honed since primary school.
‘Of course – it’s beautiful here,’ said Lucy.
‘But—’ Eleni blurted, then clasped her hand to her mouth as Lucy looked at her sharply. ‘Sorry,’ she said, raising her hands. ‘No bloody filter. I don’t know why I said that. I just thought you … I’m not sure now. Forget it.’
Lucy was weighing up whether to reply, when she realized it was too late: they were in earshot of the other guests.
‘Ah, here you are!’ Rory waved at them as they approached the palm trees that led away from the beach into the forest, where the others were standing, along with Kai and a man who Lucy assumed was their driver.
‘We were just waiting for you before we get our instructions on how to sit in a jeep.’ He gave Lucy a knowing wink, as if to say, let’s just indulge these overcautious health and safety nerds, shall we?
Lucy glanced at Mark: he was staring at her, his arms folded across his chest, his mouth turned down.
He’s still angry. He was too involved in her business, that was his problem.
Perhaps it was understandable: he’d half carried her through these past couple of years.
Stayed by her side on the nights she’d been unable to steady her breathing until the small hours.
Spoon-fed her tomato soup when she couldn’t stomach eating, let alone cooking.
But she didn’t need that level of concern now – not from him; not from anyone. She was dealing with things her own way – and if that meant shutting him out, then that’s what she had to do.