Chapter Seven #2
Diana fought the grin tugging at her mouth. Hearing Faye talk about the—frankly—quite boring-looking birds was oddly endearing. She handed the binoculars back, noting how Faye grinned when the birds came into focus.
It was that passion, that unable-to-contain-it passion, that Diana missed. The fuel that made her stay up until the early morning, reading research papers and writing until her fingers ached. That passion had driven her to write her first book. Not to make money or to stay relevant.
“Amazing,” Faye breathed. “I love seeing them out here. You know they could be extinct in sixty years?”
“That’s awful.”
“It really is.” She packed her binoculars back into her enormous bag and slung it over her shoulder. What else did she carry in that thing?
“What are you doing out here on your own?” Diana asked.
Faye gave a small shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I’m kinda used to it.”
That pulled at Diana, making her pause. “Where’s your friend?”
“Quin? They’ve gone to the reception, to call home.”
“I didn’t know we could do that.” Maybe she could call Leanne and the university to check on things.
“There’s Wi-Fi there.” Faye raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you read your information pack?”
Diana chuckled. “No. I can’t say that I did.” They headed back along the shore, waves inching towards their feet. The old familiar scent of the sea beckoned her. The sun at her back.
This isn’t so bad. She wasn’t thinking about her mum at all.
“I didn’t peg you for a rulebreaker,” Faye murmured, the teasing tone lifting hairs along Diana’s neck.
She soaked in the feeling, letting the moment elongate before meeting Faye’s gaze. “Didn’t anyone tell you that first impressions can be deceiving?”
Faye’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Yeah, actually. A woman I met in a bar told me that.”
Diana hummed. “She sounds wise.”
“Yeah? You should’ve heard what she said about mutant bear-claw chickens taking over the world, or some nonsense.”
Diana grinned. “I believe that was you.”
Faye laughed. “Oh! Here.” She reached into her bag and pulled out Diana’s phone. “I meant to give this back.”
“Thank you. I hope the pictures were helpful.”
“Yeah, thanks. I was pretty chuffed. The flowers were the endemic Sazorina bellflowers. I checked in my book.”
The horizon stretched before them, heat blurring the tips of the ocean waves. Her feet throbbed in her new sandals, but there was no way she was going to walk barefoot. “Have you always been so interested in plants and animals?” Diana asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. You never know what people are thinking. Animals and plants don’t really lie.
” A slow smirk pulled at Faye’s mouth. “I mean…squirrels can pretend to bury nuts in places to keep other squirrels guessing, but people, in my experience, are rarely ever honest. It’s hard to know where you stand. ”
Diana nodded. “The human psyche is complex. New research reveals a different theory all the time.” She frowned, the pressure from Leanne to write descending for a moment. “The field is always evolving.”
A light breeze tickled the hair around Faye’s face. “Do you think it would be easier if people always told the truth?”
“Hmm. Yes and no.” Diana pursed her lips, letting the question swirl around her brain.
“Even if humans became incapable of lying, the obligation to speak the truth doesn’t force confessions.
We could still conceal information, choosing what we want to disclose.
But always telling the truth would make things more black-and-white.
We’d quickly discover which friends are true friends and which are not.
Societies might benefit from the trust, particularly the government, but such honest bluntness might cause a lot of instability and trauma too.
” She frowned. Molly and Jason were already loose-lipped with their words, and that was bad enough.
“I guess so. But I hate not knowing, not having answers.” Faye paused to pluck a smooth stone from the sand, running a thumb over it before dropping it back to the beach. “I try to be honest, so it sucks when someone isn’t quite who you thought they were, you know?”
“Sadly, I do.” The sun dipped lower in the sky, glinting off the edges of the waves as they rolled up the shore.
“Look at the petrels.”
Diana’s breath caught as Faye leaned across her, pointing to a group of birds soaring above. Her vanilla scent pulled her back to that lift. Her sweet wine-tinted breath. Her unapologetic hands and hot tongue. Her stomach dipped; their bodies suddenly too close to be considered friendly.
The birds flapped and dove before vanishing out of view, and Faye turned to her, eyes sparkling like she’d witnessed something magical.
Diana felt the same, but admittedly for different reasons.
Whatever this was, she couldn’t entertain it. She didn’t have time; she had more pressing matters to attend to. These three weeks were for Molly and for her proposal—not to lure her libido out of hibernation.
So why could she think of nothing else than the taste of Faye’s lips?
She composed herself, squashing her expression into something neutral.
The two fell into step with each other again, a cool breeze lifting hair along her bare arms. Sunbathers and swimmers had dispersed with the sinking sun, leaving stretches of perfect white sand.
The beach soon gave way to the dusty steps, leading them back to the courtyard and cabins.
They continued to chat as they climbed, taking turns to admire the natural beauty of Sandy Springs.
Conversation flowed easily, but Diana’s mind kept snagging on their earlier topic.
In particular, the sadness of Faye’s statement.
She wanted to know who had hurt her, but her curiosity would only open more doors she shouldn’t look behind.
The courtyard was empty save for a few birds resting on the wooden canopy. The fountain trickled in the quiet as Diana sidestepped a few bees buzzing around the flowers.
“Oh my god. Goats!” Faye ran to the far side by the stone wall, clicking her tongue and cooing into the field.
A few white goats raised their heads, trotting over to see the commotion. Faye held out her hand and giggled as they nibbled at her fingers.
“Ooh, you’re lovely,” she cooed, scratching the head of a smaller one with patchy fur. She glanced at Diana, who was still standing some distance away. “Don’t you want to say hello?”
Diana raised her hand, scrunching her nose at the smell of urine and hay. “Hello.”
Faye laughed. “Not a fan?”
“My dad worked on a farm,” she said, as if that would explain her reluctance. When the words left her mouth, she frowned. That time of her life wasn’t something she liked to talk about. “The smell never comes out of clothes,” she offered, hoping it would be enough. “And this is a nice dress.”
“It is. And I can’t say their odour isn’t…pungent.” Faye gave the goat one last scratch behind the ears before returning to her. “But working on a farm is cool. Did you spend a lot of time there?”
“I used to. I don’t like to think about it.
” When Faye stayed quiet, giving her the space to continue, her voice quieted.
“As a kid, I loved it. Running around the fields in the summer, playing in the barn with the farmer’s children.
We’d have the best games of hide-and-seek.
” She smiled. Once, she’d hidden in one of the horse’s empty feeding sacks for an hour without being found.
Her mum had pulled hay from her hair all night.
The feeling soured, and she blinked the memory away.
“After my mum passed…I never went back.”
The words sounded loud in the quiet. So loud, Diana wished she’d never said them. The ache in her heart flared, the way it always did when she thought about that time of her life.
But then Faye took her hand. “Diana, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It was a long time ago.”
Why she’d decided here, of all places, to dig up her family trauma was beyond her. Especially with someone she barely knew. She blamed Marco Marcos for his mind-probing.
But Faye looked back at her with those kind blue eyes, and for some unfathomable reason, on this dusty path on an island in the middle of the Atlantic, she felt safe.
“How old were you?” Faye asked.
“Ten.”
Faye squeezed Diana’s hand tighter. The act of sympathy would usually make her pull away, but with Faye, it did the opposite. Something about her authenticity, that unique Faye-quality she harnessed, pulled her closer.
“That must have been awful. I’m so sorry, Diana.”
Diana gave a small nod of acknowledgement. What more was there to say? Yes, it was awful. It flipped my life in a way I never thought possible at that age. Then my father made my life an utter misery.
So she opted to conceal the rest, letting the heavy silence sit between them, as it often did when the topic of death reared its ugly head.
Faye indicated the cabin to their left. “Is yours far?” Diana hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped walking. “This one is mine.”
“Oh… No, I’m over the hill.” She collected herself, giving Faye’s hand a small squeeze before releasing it.
The abrupt end made the mix of feelings stir more. But their time was over. Diana had her proposal to start. Excavating her traumas wasn’t going to help. Nor would distracting herself with Faye.
Faye fished in her bag for her key, and they took a couple more steps towards the door. A light breeze made Diana cross her arms.
Faye turned at the door, her key in the lock. “I…I feel like I should share a truth, since you shared one with me.”
Diana’s heart beat hard, steady but loud against her ribs. “Alright. If you wish.”
They hovered for a moment; the crickets chirped with the bleating goats.
“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
The boldness of the statement hit Diana square in the chest. Surprise flickered across her features, confusion chasing it. But the softness in Faye’s voice and the steady glint in her eyes left no room for argument.
She swallowed. “Faye—”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” Faye gave a small smile, her eyes dropping to her feet.
Why the sadness? Why the sudden change from bold to brittle?
Diana reached for her hand, needing her to look at her, needing to understand. Heat sparked at the touch. The soft gasp leaving Faye’s mouth was enough to draw her attention to her puckered lips.
She wanted to feel them. To taste them again.
This wasn’t a good idea. But the longer she remained in the doorway, the harder it became to think about anything else.
It’d been so long since anybody had told her she was beautiful. Even longer without there being an underlying motive behind it. But Faye wasn’t like that.
A beat passed, with Diana lost in the soft swirl of Faye’s irises. The tug in her belly deepened, heat spreading up her neck. Then she pushed her up against the door, pressing her lips to hers.