Chapter Seventeen
‘She must be in, the truck’s back.’ Federica.
Oh God. They can’t find us together. Or rather, I don’t want them to find us in bed together, or quite so quickly. I’d rather escape the furtive, knowing looks. Let them think I’ve gone to sleep and I’m a deep sleeper. Drat! I told Ella I wake at the drop of a hat.
A gentle knock comes at the door, then a whispered, ‘Kat, are you asleep?’ Ella.
Dexter, beside me, is doing his utmost not to howl with laughter. He actually has a hand clasped over his mouth so he doesn’t give himself away. I hold a finger to my lips, ensuring he stays silent.
Another knock, then when I don’t answer, footsteps trailing away. I breathe a sigh of relief, then startle, my hand flying to my chest when my phone pings really loudly next to my ear. I exhale in a rush and Dexter grins.
‘It’s not funny. It scared me half to death.’
‘How about I take your mind off it?’ he suggests as he kisses my neck, then my lips…
At five forty-five, I shake Dexter awake. He’s gorgeous even in sleep. ‘You need to go.’
‘Hmm?’ he replies groggily. He doesn’t even have morning breath. How is that possible?
‘You need to get up,’ I whisper, ‘unless you want to do the walk of shame.’
He bolts upright, rubbing his beautiful sky blue eyes. He yawns then after blinking a few times, he’s compos mentis enough to take in his surroundings.
‘Oh! I fell asleep here. Crap. I’d better go.’
My lips curve into a smile as he hops around the room, trying to put on his clothes with minimal fuss and minimal noise. He’s mostly successful.
He kisses me goodbye at the door, then says he’ll see me later. His hand is on the handle, ready to turn it, when he lets go.
I frown and he puts a finger to his lips.
Federica’s voice wafts down the corridor, followed by that of Mariangeles. Oh, great. How are we going to sneak him back out now?
I tiptoe to the door and press my ear against it. Footsteps, moving away. How many sets? Two? The voices fade away. They must have closed the rec room door.
Dexter looks at me, his eyes searching mine to see if the coast is clear.
I point with a finger, indicating now is the time to go. He creaks open the door and tiptoes out then hares it across the courtyard to the men’s accommodation block.
I stifle a smile at us behaving like teenagers having an illicit rendezvous. We’re adults, for goodness’ sake, but for our own reasons, right now, we don’t want anyone to know that we’re dating. Are we dating? Hopefully, last night wasn’t just a wham, bam, thank you ma’am thing for Dexter. It certainly wasn’t for me. And it could get kind of awkward if one of us was less invested in this than the other.
For once, I take Becca’s advice and stop overanalysing. Becca. Mum. I groan as I recall that with everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours, I haven’t managed to call Becca back. I was too caught up in Nimble’s escape. Something to add to today’s to-do list. But for now, I’m going to have a shower and reflect on an amazing night with an incredible man, and I’m not only talking about the closed-door part. I really like him, and if there is such a thing as ‘the one’, vomit-inducing though it might sound, I think he might be it.
‘Thank God she couldn’t get flights. Let’s hope, that being the case, and them being so expensive when flying at short notice, that’ll put the kybosh on it.’
‘I did my best, Kat. I’m so sorry,’ says Becca.
‘Listen, I know what Mum’s like. I’m just furious that she’s taking Aidan’s side. How can she be so blind to his faults? You saw through him straight away.’
Becca gives a ghoulish laugh. ‘I have the power.’
I smile at that. Everything always feels better when Becca’s around. ‘Sorry I didn’t call back. I had a bit of a sloth emergency and things have been a bit full-on.’
‘Don’t worry. I get it. So, everything’s all right?’
I give a devilish grin and wink. ‘It’s better than all right.’
‘Oh, that good, huh?’
I nod, unable to prevent the smile that just about splits my face in two.
‘You dirty stopout!’ Becca shrieks. ‘Yay! Way to get Aidan out of your system.’
My eyebrows knit. ‘Becca, that’s not why we… you know.’
‘Course not, but it helps. God, I wish I could tell him, to his face. I detest that man.’
‘I’d kinda guessed,’ I say drily. ‘And no, you can’t tell Aidan I’ve slept with someone else. Even though we’re no longer together. He already sees me reneging on us moving in together as some twenty-first-century breach of promise case.’
Becca was in the middle of taking a sip of her drink and splutters liquid everywhere. When she regains her composure, she says, ‘Thanks for that.’
‘You’re welcome. Didn’t you know that Pepsi coming out of your nose was attractive these days?’
‘You’re not funny.’ She makes a face. ‘I’m genuinely happy for you, hon, and as soon as I get this cast off, and can find a flight that won’t cost me two months’ salary, then I’m coming for a visit.’
‘You’d better. Right, I’ve got to go. I’m on mucking out cage duty this morning.’
‘Rather you than me. Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
Yes, Dexter dropped that little nugget on me last night during our post-amorous snuggles.
Is it odd that I’ve had a very satisfying morning mucking out cages with Victor, even though some were filled with sloth poo? Victor may be a country boy, but simple he’s not and he knows food like no one I’ve ever met, so much so my stomach has been rumbling and I’ve been salivating all morning, despite me having a hearty breakfast of gallo pinto . Sofia doesn’t believe on sending us out to work on an empty stomach. She really is like a mother hen with her chicks. Even the black sheep– me currently– gets clucked over. I know I’m mixing my metaphors but who cares?
Some surreptitious glances were cast my way, and I’m sure Dexter’s, too, this morning in the canteen, but I kept my head down, deep in conversation with Alejandro and Victor, deciding shying away from the girls was the best course of action so as not to invite comment on my whereabouts last night.
Dexter popped in, but grabbed something to go. I’ve never seen him do that. I’m guessing he didn’t fancy being interrogated either, so took the coward’s way out.
But now it’s time for lunch and I think we’re both going to have to toughen up, or develop a poker face, depending on the way the conversation goes, as I’m sure the girls, in particular, won’t let it lie.
I’d imagine gossip is currency here. Unless they go into town, with such a small pool of people to choose from, when anyone does anything remotely interesting, it has to be that day’s news.
When I enter the dining room, everyone is already seated except Dexter. Ha, he’s continuing with his cowardice, is he? Hopefully not avoiding me. I bat the unwelcome thought away and allow myself a slight smile. Given the way we were last night and this morning, I’d like to think not. And although I got it wrong with Aidan, I’d say I’m generally a good judge of character.
I peer at today’s lunch as Sofia hands me a plate. Anticipating my question, she says, ‘ Tamal asado .’
I nod, as if that means something to me. It doesn’t.
She beams at me. ‘Cornmeal on banana leaf, with chicken and vegetables.’
‘Sounds amazing.’
She flushes with pride. ‘I added some olives too. A tip my mother gave me.’
I thank her and choose to brave the gauntlet, sitting between Mariangeles and Federica.
‘How is everyone?’ I ask. Ella and Luciana are there. Funny, I’ve just realised Roisin rarely, if ever, eats at this table. I wonder if that’s my influence or if she doesn’t like sitting with the other women. Or perhaps they don’t like her sitting with them. The latter’s unlikely as they’re so friendly. Plus, she seems only to have an issue with me.
‘Good. I was bathing some of the sloths today,’ says Ella.
‘Oh, that sounds like a great job.’ I grin. ‘Definitely better than mucking out cages with Victor.’
Everyone groans. ‘We hate doing that,’ confides Mariangeles. ‘Victor must have no olfactory nerves or something. He’s immune to the stench.’
I think to how Victor talks about food and figure that can’t be the case.
‘I love bathing the sloths, especially the young ones. They seem to enjoy it. It’s like playtime for them.’ Luciana stares off into the middle distance, dreamily. You’d almost think she was dreaming of some hot beau rather than reminiscing about giving sloths a bath. I mean, I might have that look were I thinking of being in a hot tub naked with Dexter, but…
‘Talking of playtime,’ Mariangeles says, ‘you and Dexter were late back last night. Did you have a good time at the beach?’
I nod as I feel colour rising in my cheeks. ‘Yeah, it was really good. I saw the howler monkeys at the park– boy, are they loud– and the sloths, of course. It’s quite different from at night.’
‘I didn’t realise you’d been to the park already,’ Federica interrupts.
‘Especially not at night.’ Mariangeles’ lips twitch in amusement.
‘Yeah, the night before.’ I don’t rise to the bait. ‘Anyway, we had ceviche at Langostino. Dexter had been before, and then we had… a walk around.’
Smug looks pass between Mariangeles and Federica. Ella remains resolutely quiet. She’s keeping out of it.
‘We thought you’d have joined us at the firepit once you got back.’ Mariangeles stares at me, challenge in her eyes, as if she’s daring me to lie my way out of this one.
‘Yes. I was keen to practise my English with you… with you both,’ Federica says.
I shake my head. ‘I was shattered and decided just to hit the sack. All this rainforest air is really taking it out of me.’
Even Ella raises her head and then her eyebrows at this.
‘I didn’t even hear you get back,’ Mariangeles prods.
She’s enjoying this. It’s like having an annoying big sister quizzing you after your very first date.
I shrug. ‘Well, I didn’t want to burst in when I was going to go straight to bed anyway.’
Mariangeles grins. I know what at, too, so I jump in with, ‘And let’s face it, if I came to join you lot, you’d never have let me escape and I’d have been up for hours.’
‘Ah, we can’t have you being kept up for hours.’ Mariangeles’ eyes flick to the door.
Dexter walks in, his eyes searching the room until they settle on me. A smudge of dirt is on his nose, and his hair is mussed from whatever activity he has been doing today, or perhaps he has just been yanking at it whilst poring over paperwork. Who knows? Although I can recall his hair being pretty mussed last night, but that was for a whole other reason. Now who’s daydreaming?
Mariangeles coughs and none too subtly digs Federica in the ribs. Federica splutters as she takes in Dexter’s arrival, and presumably his reaction to me. I glower at them both and keep my gaze trained studiously on the table.
I make small talk with Ella, although honestly I’m not even sure what about, until Dexter pulls up a chair opposite Mariangeles and next to Ella, so as he’s diagonally opposite me.
I mutter a hi, but don’t participate in the conversation which ensues. Every nerve ending in my body is tingling at the sight of him. Plus, I’m trying not to smile, in case it’s obvious we slept together last night, and it’s not like I make a habit of sleeping with men not long after I meet them. Maybe it’s the fact I’m in a foreign country, a strange continent, that I’m being so blasé, but my time with Dexter has felt so right from the moment I met him. It doesn’t feel as if I’ve only known him just over a week. So caution was duly thrown to the wind. Well, some caution; we did take pre cautions. Doing otherwise would have been taking my new devil-may-care attitude too far.
After lunch, which was quite frankly torturous, I make a hasty exit and then realise I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next, so I gravitate towards the hospital to see how Flash is faring. Carlos is standing over him, a pencil in one hand, a notebook in the other. His gaze is faraway.
‘Hi, Carlos. How is he?’
He regards Flash with affection. ‘I think maybe in the next month or so he’ll be able to be rehabilitated. His cuts are starting to heal, but I’d like him to put on a little more weight first.’
If only the real Flash had been able to heal. Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested we name him Flash. His name reminds me too much of Dad and the pain of losing him, especially given the not exactly warm relationship I enjoy with Mum. That reminds me, I still need to sort that nonsense out.
‘That’s great news.’ But inside, a little part of me feels as if I’ll lose Dad all over again. Crazy, I know, but when does grief ever make sense?
‘Talking of rehabilitation, how would you like to accompany me this afternoon to release one of our sloths back into the wild?’
I gasp. ‘Really?’ I’m taken aback that he would ask me, or suggest something so wonderful after the Nimble debacle, but I’m excited too. ‘Who’s being released?’
‘Velocidad. Let me just tell Sofia we’re going and we can prepare the crate for him. Can you go tell Victor I need him? He’s in the outdoor adult sloth play area.’
‘Sure.’ I zip off to tell Victor, eager to see my first sloth rehabilitation.