Chapter Three
By the time I arrive back at the hotel room, Aidan has gone. The only hint of his presence is a two-word note, Your loss , and his signature. I sit down heavily on the bed, the relief overwhelming. He took me at my word. It’s a bloomin’ mess, but if Ed, who has known me all of two minutes, can tell me outright that Aidan is no good for me, how could I not have admitted it to myself before now? My breath hisses out of me as I pause on the thought that we were meant to be moving in together after this trip.
I’m so tired. I’ve been running on adrenalin since the incident at the pool. After we’d completed my lesson, I sat with Ed for a while before deciding it was probably safe to come back to the room, although he insisted on accompanying me, in case Aidan was inside or loitering nearby. Fortunately, he wasn’t and now all I want to do is sleep. I barely make it to a reclining position before my eyes drift closed.
When I wake, a few hours have passed and the low glow of the light on the balcony informs me it’s evening. I freshen up, and even though I’m still a little groggy from the emotion of the day and a little sad at the finality of our split, the overarching feeling is one of relief at being free.
My phone pings. Becca. Look, you weren’t meant to open it until your birthday, but you can open the smaller of the two presents I gave you, now, if you like xx
I dig around in my backpack and pull out the little gift Becca told me to keep in my hand luggage. I wonder now if she thought Aidan might kick off and I’d need a pick-me-up as a result. Whatever the case, she’s right, I do. I undo the ribbon on the parcel, carefully open the wrapping paper and remove the tissue paper to reveal a cute six-inch baby sloth plush. I can’t hold back my smile. Becca knows me so well. Nearly thirty and I still love teddies. I gaze into its sweet little face and try to conjure up a name. Hope. That’s perfect.
Oh, Becca, if only you knew how much I needed this right now.
I place the plush on the bed, then head downstairs to reception. It’s dinnertime, but the last thing I want to do right now is eat, so I wander over to the beach bar and order myself an orange juice. I need to stay completely sober so my head is clear, just in case Aidan returns.
I’d better text Becca back, let her know what’s going on. She’ll be delighted we’ve split up, but anxious about me being out here all alone. Bizarrely, I’m not too worried about that, and surely that’s telling in itself. Three days from my thirtieth birthday and I’m not fazed or afraid about spending it alone in Costa Rica. Self-pity descends for a nanosecond before I shake it off. Yes, it would have been lovely to visit all the fabulous places on my list– the national parks, the coffee plantations, and of course the sloth sanctuary– with someone special, and enjoy it together, but let’s face it, that was never going to be Aidan. Why did I ever think it could be?
No, tomorrow, things will change. I have eleven days left and I intend to make every single one count. Tomorrow, I’ll do what I came here to do– visit the sloths.
Next morning, I rise a little later, tired out from the previous day’s events. As I dress, my phone pings. Aidan. At the airport. Hope you’re happy .
My heart rate spikes but I force myself to remain calm. Of course I’m not bloody happy, but I’m happier without you. Tempting though it is to send that message, I backspace over it and don’t reply.
Half an hour later, I wave to Ed, Oscar and Nicolás as I stroll along the beach towards where they’re busy wriggling out of their wetsuits.
‘Kat, how’s things?’ Ed’s voice is wary.
‘Good, thanks. And thank you again for yesterday.’
Ed exhales heavily. ‘No worries. I hope I didn’t overstep the mark.’
I shake my head. ‘No, you didn’t. He needed that.’
‘Did Aidan get in touch?’ Nicolás asks.
‘Yep. He’s flying home.’
Ed nods, Nicolás’ eyes go wide and Oscar says, ‘Good riddance,’ before packing away the rest of his diving gear.
‘So, what are you going to do now?’ Ed asks.
I grin. ‘Start enjoying my holiday properly.’
‘Oh?’ Nicolás raises an eyebrow.
‘Yes, Aidan was holding me back, not going on the trips I’d planned to do whilst I was here.’
‘Does that mean you’re ready to come diving in the ocean then?’ Ed smiles at me.
I wag a finger at him. ‘Actually, not quite. I have something else I need to do today. Maybe tomorrow?’
‘Sure. Whenever suits.’
Oscar tugs on a plain white T-shirt. ‘What are your plans for today then?’
‘I’m going to visit the Costa Punta sloth sanctuary. It’s what I came here to do. I love their rehabilitation programme.’
‘No way!’ Oscar elbows Nicolás in the ribs. ‘Tell her.’
I frown, then my eyes flit from one to the other. ‘Tell me what?’
Nicolás rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning so much two cute dimples appear at the corners of his mouth.
‘My uncle Carlos and aunt Sofia own the sloth sanctuary.’
‘What? Really? That’s amazing. Oh my God, did you grow up with the sloths? What’s it like? Do you honestly have to go by canoe to the sanctuary? How many sloths are there?’ The questions tumble out of me until I realise the three of them are looking at me, then at each other, amusement dancing in their eyes and on their lips.
‘Are you a sloth superfan by any chance?’ Ed teases me.
‘Am I ever? And I’m proud of it.’
‘It shows.’ Nicolás sticks his tongue out at me when I give him a mock glare.
‘Have you booked your tour yet?’ Ed asks.
‘Not yet. I was going to sort it after breakfast.’
‘What do you think, Nicolás?’ Ed raises an eyebrow at him, and the three men share a complicit smile.
Nicolás tilts his head. ‘I’m sure I could sort something out.’
I haven’t the faintest idea what they’re talking about.
Nicolás takes out his phone as Ed and Oscar grin at me and Ed says, ‘Day off for us. I haven’t seen the sloths in forever. Or did you want to go alone?’
‘You’re kidding, right?’
These guys, whom I’ve known less than two days, are prepared to do this for me. I could weep with joy.
‘That’s settled.’ Nicolás claps his hands together. ‘Aunt Sofia and Uncle Carlos are expecting us later. They’ll give you the VIP tour. Let’s grab some breakfast and then we can hit the road.’
Two hours later, we’ve left Nicolás’ off-roader at the car park where the road ends and the river begins.
‘The sanctuary can be accessed by car, but it’s much longer by road, and anyway you’re in Costa Rica, you want to experience it to the max.’ Nicolás’ teeth gleam in the half-light of the canopied rainforest. I’m trying not to move in case I capsize the canoe. Somehow I thought it would be bigger, and I can’t help worrying since Oscar helpfully mentioned there have been sightings of crocodiles in the river recently.
Finally, we bump up against dry land again, and I heave a sigh of relief. Excited though I am about this trip, I’d rather have taken the longer road route to avoid being mauled by a crocodile in some swampy river. Since leaving the car park, it’s like I’ve entered another world.
‘Kat, look.’ Nicolás points to a nearby tree, where an adult sloth is hanging from a branch, gripping on with its four-inch fingers.
‘Oh my God.’ I stare in amazement then catch a glimpse of a few more sloths in the surrounding greenery. I can’t believe it. I really am in sloth paradise.
Nicolás grins. ‘That’s the adult sloth play area. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Carlos and Sofia.’
We wander inside the tastefully decorated entrance to the rescue centre. It’s so artfully done you barely notice when you leave the rainforest and enter the building, which almost seems to be carved out of the rainforest itself, it blends in so well. The greens and browns emulate the sloths’ natural habitat. Only the wording Costa Punta Sloth Sanctuary– I’m translating from the Spanish– shows you you’re no longer in the rainforest itself.
It’s so much bigger inside than I expected. We’re in a vast foyer with what look to be offices off to the left and an enormous exhibition area straight ahead. A sign reading Staff Only is off to the right.
‘?Tía! ?Tío! ’ Nicolás hugs the couple who come towards us with open arms. Carlos, his uncle, has an adult three-fingered sloth clinging to him.
My eyes widen involuntarily and I want to pinch myself to check I’m not dreaming.
‘Kat, pleased to meet you.’ Carlos beams at me.
‘And you.’ I can’t tear my gaze away from the grey-brown sloth which looks so at home around Carlos’ Hawaiian shirt.
‘Sofia.’ A woman whom I’d place around early seventies with a friendly face and the twinkliest eyes I’ve ever seen, suggesting a fierce intelligence, greets me. I shake her hand then she notes me staring at the sloth.
‘Ah, don’t worry about Ferdinand. He just loves his papa. We have had him ten years. We tried to rehabilitate him, but he wouldn’t go back into the wild, despite numerous attempts, and he has stuck to Carlos ever since.’
‘Oh my God, I can’t believe how beautiful they are up close,’ I say, fascinated by the band around Ferdinand’s eyes and how it makes him look half like a highwayman and half like a masked superhero. His claws are so long, and I wonder how Carlos manages to carry him around without getting scratched to pieces. I blink back tears, happy tears, as emotion overcomes me. I’ve waited so long to see this, my favourite animal in the whole world, and today, now, I’m achieving that long-held dream.
‘I’m all he has ever really known,’ Carlos explains. ‘Usually, we handle the sloths as little as possible, and we do our very best to rehabilitate them, but Ferdinand’s mama was struck by a car and unfortunately we couldn’t save her. He was so young, only weeks old, that he had no time to learn from her what he needed to survive in the wild. So now he’s one of our permanent residents.’ He gazes fondly at the sloth, almost like a father with a favourite child. It’s so heartwarming.
‘Anyway, come, let us show you around,’ Carlos says. ‘Sofia, did you tell Javier they were coming?’
Nicolás leans down and whispers in my ear, ‘Javier’s my cousin. We grew up together. We’re practically twins.’
I smile at his clear affection for his cousin.
‘Yes, of course. Nicolás, boys, come with me. Carlos, you give Kat the guided tour.’ Sofia shepherds them away. ‘I need your help with something, Nicolás.’
She’s already walking off, the boys following in her wake, and I feel completely at ease being left with Carlos and Ferdinand.
Waving me ahead of him, Carlos says, ‘Come. We have much to see.’ He leads me around the centre, showing me the interactive exhibits and the programmes they support to raise awareness of the sloths and the issues they face. A member of staff is holding a talk about sloths to a group of primary school-age children, and he hails Carlos as he passes.
‘Ah, Carlos, can you and Ferdinand come and say hi?’
‘Hi, children. This is Ferdinand.’ He twists around to give the kids the best view of the sloth, which has blended in against his body.
Carlos answers the children’s many questions, showing endless patience, but explaining that they must be quiet so as not to startle Ferdinand or stress him out.
‘No, I’m afraid it’s not possible to touch the sloths. They get scared very easily,’ explains Carlos. ‘Ferdinand has a special bond with me, but it’s rare with humans. I am kind of like his daddy.’
As Carlos continues, he flashes me a quick smile and gives me a ‘What can you do?’ eye roll, but I can tell he’s in his element. Then I note his demeanour change slightly as he stares over my head. I turn to see what has caught his attention. Hello. Yeah, he caught my attention, too, although I’m pretty sure for a different reason. Another sanctuary worker is signalling to him. He’s about six feet tall, has dirty blonde hair that flops over into his piercing sky blue eyes and isn’t too shabby to look at, even in the khaki sanctuary uniform. Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better, it has.
‘Excuse me a second, Kat. My deputy manager needs to speak to me.’
‘No problem.’ I cast my glance back towards the gorgeous guy he’s heading towards and he catches me. Oops. Busted. But his lips curve into a smile before I look away. Interesting.
I stand and listen to the questions from the school group, my brain whirring as it tries to work out some of the more difficult terms. I love that the word for sloth in Spanish is ‘ perezoso ’– basically ‘lazy’, or ‘ oso perezoso ’– a lazy bear. And the sloths are so sweet. It’s so relaxed here I almost feel a bit ‘ perezosa ’ myself. It’s hot, though. I could do with a cold drink.
I’m suddenly aware of a delicious, spicy aftershave and I turn my head slightly to discover the gorgeous guy is now standing beside me.
‘Hi. I’m Dexter. Carlos thought you might like to come and have a drink in the staff canteen. He has a minor emergency to take care of, but he’ll join us shortly.’
I almost can’t speak, he’s so good-looking. If I’m a seven, he’s a ten. And his accent is Cork or possibly Galway. Irish anyway. I’m a sucker for an Irish accent. Shut up, Kat, you’ve only just got rid of Aidan. Like, literally.
‘T-t-that would be great,’ I manage. ‘I’m Kat.’
He smiles and my heart flips. ‘Nice to meet you, Kat. It’s through here.’
We cross the foyer and disappear through the door marked Staff Only. It’s like a rabbit warren through here, with rooms going off in all directions. On the right is one clearly marked Canteen, whilst on the left and further down are what appear to be the sloth-dedicated areas.
I follow Dexter into the canteen, where he fixes us both an orange juice, then we take a seat in a couple of the bamboo chairs that are on one side of the room.
‘So you’re not local then?’ I say.
His face breaks into a grin. ‘That obvious?’
When I nod, he goes on, ‘I’m from Waterford, like the crystal.’
‘South west?’ I try to remember my Irish geography, which is woefully sketchy in places.
‘South east, but at least you knew it was south.’ He sips his orange juice then says, ‘I don’t need to guess where you’re from, though. I lived in Glasgow for two years.’
‘You did not!’
‘Did too.’ He puts his glass on the table and smacks his lips together slightly. I’m paying far too much attention to his lips, but they do look rather… kissable? Jesus, what is wrong with me? My hormones have gone into overdrive.
‘So what brings you to Costa Rica?’ Dexter asks.
I opt for the short answer. ‘A lifelong love of sloths.’
‘Really? Me too, although my first conservation programme was with turtles. But there’s something special about these little guys. This post came up a few years ago and the rest, as they say, is history.’
He blinks and the gazelle-like length of his lashes makes me gulp.
‘So, you fancy yourself as a sloth enthusiast, do you?’
The way he says ‘fancy’ makes my heart rate increase.
I nod. ‘I do, yes.’
‘Hmm, I’d have to test you to be sure.’
Now he has me wondering what he has in mind.
His eyes sparkle with mischief. ‘You see, I can take you behind the scenes, but we don’t let just anyone go there. You’ve met Ferdinand, but there are a few others I can show you, if you pass the test.’
My heart swells with joy. Yes, yes, yes, I want to shout. ‘I’m game.’
He raises an eyebrow and I blush, then he grabs a nearby pencil and paper as if he’s going to make notes. ‘OK, question one…’
His demeanour is so serious it makes me laugh. I feel so comfortable with him and I’ve only known him about ten minutes. I felt like that with Ed and the guys, too, but they didn’t make my stomach do cartwheels. Maybe it’s some strange rebound reaction to splitting up with Aidan.
‘…what do sloths like to eat?’
I pause for a second to think. ‘Well, they eat lots of fruit, but I’ve just discovered they like hibiscus flowers for dessert,’ I say, hoping Dexter is impressed with my knowledge.
He laughs. ‘Very good. Ten points. Question two. Can sloths a) swim, b) hang-glide or c) rock climb?’
Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘I’ll go with swim. And do I get bonus points for extra info?’
Dexter tilts his head to one side. ‘Oh, go on then.’
With a smug smile, I say, ‘They’re faster in water than on land and use their long arms to propel themselves through water.’
Dexter whistles. ‘You’re good. Question three. Why do sloths come down to the forest floor and how often?’
‘Too easy. Once a week, to poop.’
‘Right again. OK, I can see I’ll need to really think hard about this final question.’ He waits a moment then raises his finger in an a-ha motion. ‘Got it. Which country has the most sloths?’
I tap a finger against my lips as if thinking. ‘Well, since Brazil has the most species of sloth and is the biggest country with sloths in it, I’ll go Brazil.’
‘Oh dear,’ says Dexter, shaking his head, and for a moment I think I have it wrong, but then he grins. ‘I thought I’d got you that time. Well, four out of four. I did promise you could meet the sloths if you passed. So, are you ready?’
‘Oh yes.’ I’m just about to leap out of my seat when the door opens and Carlos strolls in, more than a little flustered. ‘Dexter, it’s a no-go. I tried, but the circumstances are out of my control.’ He shrugs and raises his hands in resignation.
Dexter’s face falls but he quickly recovers. ‘We’ll work something out, Carlos. Don’t worry. I’ll look into it. OK if I take Kat to see our behind-the-scenes sloths?’
‘Of course.’ Carlos’ worry lines are momentarily replaced with laughter lines. ‘See you later, Kat.’ As he wanders off, I can’t help but notice Carlos’ smile disappearing and a frown appearing on Dexter’s face.
‘Is everything OK?’ I ask.
Dexter sighs. ‘We’ve had a volunteer pull out at the last minute and Carlos is panicking a little.’
Now it’s my turn to frown. ‘Isn’t it easy enough to get a replacement?’
‘You’d think, wouldn’t you, but no,’ Dexter says, hand on the door. ‘Hoops to jump through, and we need to actively recruit them too.’ He falls silent and as he pushes the door open, I take that to mean the subject’s closed.
As I follow, Dexter turns back to me. ‘You’re in for a treat. This is our nursery.’ He stands aside to reveal a room where a woman is sitting surrounded by tiny baskets. In each basket is a baby sloth. They are the epitome of cuteness.
I stand and watch as the woman feeds milk to one of the babies through a pipette. When she has finished she dabs its adorable little mouth with a handkerchief. I so wish Dad could have seen this. My chest tightens and for a moment I can barely breathe as grief catches me unawares again.
Inside the baskets are little blankets and teddy bears. I frown in puzzlement and Dexter says, ‘They’re orphans. The teddy is to make them feel as if their mother is still with them.’
Oh my goodness, could this place be more wonderful?
I turn to see a slightly older pup climbing the blinds.
‘That’s Speedy. He keeps trying to escape, but he’s not quite ready. Hopefully, we can release him back into the wild next week.’
I stare at Dexter. ‘Speedy?’
Dexter grins. ‘We have to get our kicks somehow.’
I smirk. ‘So naming sloths is as good as it gets, is it?’ Crikey, where did that flirtatious tone come from?
‘Oh, I think we can do better than that, but anyway, you ain’t seen nothing yet.’ He points at a tiny sloth pup, asleep under a pink blanket. ‘This is Rocket. We’ve paired her up with Bullet, another orphan.’ He indicates the basket beside it, with the powder-blue blanket. They are so adorable.
He gestures with one hand to the sloth on the sofa. Yes, there’s a sloth on the sofa. ‘That’s Zoom, and now we just have to find a name for the three-month-old sloth that came in this morning. He’s being checked over right now.’
‘This is incredible. How many sloths do you have here?’
Dexter does a quick calculation. ‘With our new arrival today, we have twenty-five. On that note, would you like to name our new sloth? I can’t take you in to visit him as he’s still in pretty bad shape, but I do like to name them on the first day.’
‘Oh my God, really? I’d love that.’
‘Sure. The only thing is, you’ve seen the style of our names for the sloths. Can you come up with something that would fit?’
That lump returns to my throat. ‘Yeah, I have one that would be perfect. Flash.’
‘Ha! Flash. I like it.’ He writes out a name tag and tucks it into his pocket.
There you go, Dad . Gordon MacDonald, also known as Flash to his friends after Flash Gordon, will be immortalised in Costa Rica as Flash the sloth. So even though you didn’t get to make the trip, a part of you will stay behind .
Dexter claps his hands together. ‘Right, let me show you the adults.’
By the time I’ve met the other sloths and Dexter has filled me in on some of their backstories, I’m mentally exhausted, but also exhilarated.
‘Have you eaten?’ Dexter says. ‘I have some tasks I have to take care of after lunch, but we could grab something back in the canteen. Sofia cooks for us and she makes some mouthwatering dishes.’
‘If I’m not putting you out, that would be great. Thank you.’ My stomach growls and we both laugh.
Dexter holds the door open for me. ‘Your internal clock’s working fine, I see.’
We walk into the staff canteen and an incredible smell assaults my senses. ‘Mmm.’
‘Yeah, that’s casado. Pork today, with rice, beans, some salad and a side order of cabbage. Sound good?’
‘Very.’
Sofia is standing at a serving hatch, a wide smile on her face. ‘How has your day been so far, Kat?’
I give a happy little sigh. ‘Unbelievable. I even got to name the new arrival.’
Her eyes twinkle. ‘Ah, a special moment indeed.’ She dishes out two plates of casado and hands them to us.
‘ Gracias ,’ I say.
She smiles. ‘ Pura vida . ?Buen provecho! ’
I’m sure I’ll enjoy it very much indeed.
Lunch is delicious, including the fried yucca, which is tastier than it sounds. Kind of like a sweet, nutty potato. As I eat, or rather savour, the food, Dexter asks me about myself, and I, in not so equal measure, grill him on how a guy from Waterford ended up in Costa Rica.
Finally, Dexter leans back in his chair and groans. ‘I’m stuffed. It was so good, but I’ll pay for it later.’ He leans forward again and takes a sip of his drink.
I laugh. ‘I think I may have overindulged, too, but same as you, it was too good not to finish it.’ I sip my agua dulce .
‘So, do you only love sloths or are you an all-round animal lover?’ he asks.
‘I love all animals, and in fact, I wanted to be a vet, and go to the vet school at Glasgow uni, but I didn’t get in, so I’ve spent the past…’ I wave my hand around, trying to pluck a number out of thin air ‘…ten years working in pet supplies sales.’
Dexter frowns. Yeah, I’ve lost him. It always happens when I mention my job. It’s mind-numbingly boring.
‘Couldn’t you have done something else with animals? I mean, nothing against your current job, but you’re obviously passionate about them. The very fact you applied to vet school shows that.’
‘There wasn’t really anything available at the time, and then I kinda fell into sales, and well, I had bills to pay. Life got in the way.’ I give him a rueful smile and he returns it.
‘And you’ve never thought of having another crack at studying to be a vet?’
‘I’d love to, of course I would, but I think I’ve missed the boat and the competition for those courses is immense.’ Something prevents me from telling him about the access course I did the past two years, eager to reignite my dream. Shame? Embarrassment that it was all for nothing?
He looks thoughtful for a moment.
‘What?’ I ask, wondering if I have a piece of yucca stuck in my teeth or something.
‘Do you like your job?’
I shrug. ‘It has its moments. I like the people I work with.’
‘Yes, the people are very important.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘And do you have family back home?’
‘Just my mum. My dad passed last year.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that. That must have been tough.’ His stricken face shows me he’s annoyed at himself for putting his foot in it.
‘Yeah, it was. Dad and I were so close. He’s who inspired my love of animals.’ My voice cracks. ‘He’s who I was originally meant to make this trip with.’
Dexter’s face blanches.
‘Oh my goodness. Are you OK?’ I nod then he says, ‘Wait, who did you come with then?’
I smile wryly. ‘My boyfriend. Now my ex-boyfriend.’
Dexter’s face is a picture. ‘Jesus. You have had a run of terrible luck. Not that your dad passing was bad luck. I mean, obviously, it was awful, but–’
‘Dexter–’ I rest my hand on his arm ‘–stop digging yourself in deeper.’
‘Right. Right.’ He shakes his head as if he’s just woken up from hibernating all winter and is having difficulty processing what’s happening.
‘It’s fine, really. And today Nicolás, Oscar and Ed brought me here as they knew this was my whole reason for coming to Costa Rica.’
‘Your whole reason?’ Dexter’s eye contact is a tad unnerving now.
‘Well, ninety per cent of it. Obviously, the coffee’s not bad here, and it’ll be cool to see the volcano and the other national parks, but yes, the sloths were my reason for coming. That and to fulfil mine and Dad’s dream.’ I inhale a deep breath and say, ‘Dexter, this may be a little off beam, but could I be a volunteer?’
‘What? You? Here?’
I’m nodding vigorously now.
‘Yep, me, here. How about I take the place of the volunteer who had to drop out?’ I raise my hands and shrug as if the solution is simple.
Dexter mulls this over for a second, his eyes wide as if he can’t quite believe I’ve fallen into his lap. Actually, I can think of worse places to be, and I don’t just mean the sanctuary.
‘You could. We could teach you.’ And then he’s off on one, babbling excitedly, trying to find a reason not to and failing. A broad smile breaks across his face as my brain struggles to process everything he’s saying to me. Could I really stay and work with the sloths?
Today is the happiest I’ve felt in I don’t know how long. Caring for the sloths would be even better than going to vet school, even though it won’t provide the same financial reward. It’s a moot point anyway. I didn’t get in, again, and I’m definitely not applying a third time.
Dare I reach for the stars, take the chance of a lifetime and become the Costa Punta sloth sanctuary’s newest volunteer?