28. Noise
Chapter twenty-eight
Noise
Charlie
“Make the most of your last day, sweetie. We’ll be sad to see you go, and cocktails tonight won’t be the same without you.” I’m not sure Bridget even takes a breath. “We have your details and we will be visiting. I want to see the flower shop and meet everyone you have spoken so fondly about this week.”
“Bridget, let the girl speak, or at least let her enjoy her last breakfast here in peace.” Hank’s been apologising since they sat at my table a while ago. He’s not said any words as such. That’s a little impossible when Bridget gets talking, but he’s saying it with his eyes. Smiling, I appreciate what he’s trying to do.
“Oh tosh. Charlie doesn’t mind us joining her. Do you, my dear?” There’s no question, or room to even answer, because she just carries on. Eating the rest of my melon. I just listen. I’ll miss them both. I hope they do come and visit me when I’m home. “We have two more weeks here on the island, then we’ll fly to the UK. We’ll come and see you before we head back out on our annual birthday holiday with the family.” I’m not sure they ever see their house in New York with the amount of travelling they do.
What a life .
“I think I’m a little jealous of your lifestyle, Bridget,” I announce when I can finally get a word in. Hank laughs, and says, “She can speak. Who would have ever thought it was possible to get a word in when my Bridget starts talking. I don’t think it’s ever been done before.”
“Hank, my dear, dear husband. If I never spoke, our world be silent and I know you hate silence as much as I do.” There’s a sweet look that passes between them. My heart dips. I envy the relationship they have. The closeness, the familiarity and complete openness they have with each other. Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. I need to be open and honest.
“She’s not wrong, Charlie. I do hate the silence, and I love that she fills it with her constant chatter.” Hank's hand covers Bridget’s with an affectionate squeeze.
Now I feel like I’m invading on an intimate moment. “On that note, now you are getting all…” waving at how close they have become in the few short seconds, “I’m off to the beach. Will I see you down there today?” Sliding my sunglasses on to my head, to hold my hair back, and picking up my bag, I slide my chair back, ready to leave them to it.
“Not today, dear. We’re off shopping in the old town. Should be back for one more cocktail before you leave this evening,” Bridget says as she drinks the last of her tomato juice.
“Sounds like a great plan. I’ll see you both later. Have fun.” Slipping my bag onto my shoulder, I leave them to bicker about buying useless things for the family. It makes me smile, as it’s like looking into a part of my parents’ lives, and what they might talk about before they buy me the random, funny shit from their own travels. I’ll never let them know just how much I secretly enjoy them.
Snapping a quick picture of the cobbled walkway that leads down to the beach with bright blue skies, and a turquoise sea in the background, I open the group chat I created a few days after I arrived, when I got fed up of sending the same things to both Millie and Leon.
Attaching the photo, I write a quick message: Last day in paradise. I’m going to miss this place. I don’t wait for their replies, I just slide the phone into my bag, ready to read later when I’m settled on the sun lounger soaking up the hot sun.
Walking towards the steps that lead down to the beach, I wonder how has this week gone by so fast. It only feels like yesterday when I arrived. Why didn’t I do this sooner? I won’t wait as long next time. I’ve already been deciding where I’ll go next. Maybe Italy.
Walking down toward the beach, I can already see that Mr Hughs is down there. Hesitating for a moment, the sun beats down hot against my skin. Can I deal with his eyes on me today? Chewing the inside of my cheek, I think about the last few days since turning his drink away. He really makes my skin crawl. He’s a good-looking guy, but there’s just something I don’t like about him.
I’m not going to let him spoil my last day. I’m going to enjoy every moment, Mr Creepy or not. I can cope with him for a few more hours. Can’t I?
I slide out my flip flops, my feet hitting the hot sand, savouring the feeling.
I only have a few hours until my island tour. I’m going on one of the hotel’s touring boats. I can’t wait. It’s a perfect way to end the day before I head back for dinner and then home. I still have no idea how I’m going to handle things when I get back. I’m assuming he’s back now.
I know the way I’ve been living my life the past year will change. The new friends I have in Leon, Cole and Ethan will probably dissipate when Owen settles back into life in our small town. I have to keep reminding myself they were his friends first. They were asked to do a favour for a friend. I guess they can file that one away now with the rest of the closed cases they have.
Walking across the sands, towards the day beds, I almost feel at a loss for what’s to come.
My case and backpack, and travel outfit, are waiting for me back in the suite ready to collect and change into just before I leave. I’ve not done any work. I’ve not needed the intervention from my thoughts.
And just like that, Owen pops into my head and my heart sinks for the first time in a week. A whole week since I really thought about him. Like gave my entire body over to my thoughts of him. I hate how he’s still in everything I do, every action I take. There are these moments, brief, floating, fleeting thoughts when I think, what’s he doing? Would he have liked this place? What meal would he have chosen? Would he have liked the cocktails? Would he have liked the sea or the pool better? My subconscious asks the questions without me realising, like he’s still ingrained in every part of me; part of my muscle memory, even after a year of silence.
I wonder when they will stop, when I’ll eventually break this cycle of Owen.
When I find the man who’s taking me on the tour a couple of hours later, he’s waiting on the boat just off the shore, waving at me. He jumps into the water like a skilled diver and when he comes up for air, I get to appreciate the good looks of this man as he emerges from the sea, a little like the scene from bond, but even better. Dark hair, dark skin glistening as the water droplets cascade down his beautiful body.
I don’t feel anything looking at him. I should, but I don’t.
Zero tingles, zip feeling, zilch anything.
“Miss Charlie?” he questions. Nodding, I walk a little closer, my feet skimming the water's edge. “I’m Larson. I am very sorry for this, Miss Charlie,” His thick Greek accent comes through as he speaks. “The boat is not working. There’s a problem with the engine. It will not be going anywhere today.” He tilts his head to the side as an apology.
“Oh, well, that’s a shame. I was really looking forward to that. It would have been the perfect way to end my holiday,” I tell him, disappointment sinking in.
“It will be a good reason for you to come back then,” he teases. “I have another suggestion, if you would be interested?” The cheeky glint in his eyes has me very interested.
Striding out the water, out of breath, that was the most fun I have had in a long time. I walk to collect my things from the small locker. I know I’ll pay for it tomorrow; my body already aches, but it was so worth it. I think Larson thought we would have an easy afternoon when he asked me to surf with him. The waves aren’t big around here, but there’s enough to keep you up and propelled forward. We ended up in competition with each other to see how long we could stay on. We were out there for hours. I’ve never felt so free and exhilarated.
The rush from standing on the board, and not falling in was better than sex, kind of, not really. But it was good. I think we even had an audience at one point, a few holidaymakers watching from the beach.
My body now has that sun-kissed, sandy glow about it. The look you can only get from being in the sea for hours on end. I love it. My shoulders sag a little when I realise it’s almost time for me to head home. I want to take in the sights before I make a move to get ready. And I know just the place for it.
Taking a seat in the small café, just above the pool area, I order a large water and bowl of fruit to pick at before dinner. I can see everything from here: the pool, the beach, the buildings. It’s a discreet, beautiful corner to people watch.
A group near the pool really captures my attention—the way they joke and mess around with each other, laughing, and having fun. I wonder what’s brought them here, four men and one woman, an unlikely group to come on holiday together. It’s fun to watch their dynamics. I find myself smiling as they splash and tease each other. Grown adults acting like kids, being free.
The woman sits on the edge of a sunbed and says something to one of the guys, stroking his arm tenderly.
Within a second, the air leaves my body as the tattooed flame covered body rises from the lounger. My eyes well with tears, and I can’t stop them from falling. I can’t swallow past the lump rising in my throat.
He’s not facing me, but I would know him anywhere. I think my heart stops when he sweeps his arms around the stunning brunette and jumps into the pool with her.
I’m grateful for the solitude that this position allows me to have. My hands begin to shake, the water I ordered spilling slightly when I try to drink it.
Owen…
I can’t catch my breath. It’s held in my chest, unable to escape. He’s here. With friends on holiday. On holiday with a woman.
The logical part of my brain is trying to tell me there are three other men with them, but I can’t unsee the way he held her as he jumped into the pool. The way she wrapped herself around him.
I’ve been forgotten .
I’m … not enough. I wasn’t enough for him. I feel lost as a heaviness settles in my heart..
I’m not sure how long I sit and watch them. I can’t seem to look away. Something seems to settle in me. The calm after the storm, the buzz of my emotion flutters down to a stillness I’ve not felt in a long time.
He’s happy. What more could I want for him?
My phone vibrates with a couple of new messages. A welcome distraction. I lift it off the table and try to focus on the words.
Big T: How is your last day?
I don’t know how to answer that right now, so I don’t. Scrolling to the next one.
Millie: Look what I just bought for the baby.
It’s a baby grow, covered with monochrome rainbows. I can’t process that either.
Em: We bought matching outfits today; Dan says he hates them but I love them, and I think he does too xx
Attached is a picture of matching t-shirts and shorts for Em, Dan, and baby Daisy.
Each message I read weighs down the heaviness that feel, reminding me that I came on this holiday alone, the feeling of emptiness creeping in as my friends get excited about the next chapters in their lives while I’m on my own. Still.
Pressing the palm of my hand to my chest, I can feel my heart beating. It’s a sad, steady beat, slightly bashed and broken, but still going. My cheeks are wet from the tears I’m still shedding for the loss of what could have been.
That’s enough now, I think. If I can’t have him, at least I know now that he’s happy and safe. Taking everything I have, I slowly take one last look at Owen Archie Stone.
That’s it now. Time to head home. Moving from my seat at the small table, my drink forgotten, I wipe my cheeks and open my video app to record a quick video for Leon and Millie so they know I’m alive and heading home.
I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t see the man standing just off the entrance to the café.
“Miss Hudson, I think it’s time we had a chat, don’t you?”
Shit!