Page 63 of Never Gonna Happen

He carried the ball a little further down the beach, stopping a few feet from the water and tossing it up and down in his hands, like he was waiting for something. Within seconds a teenage boy from the family of the woman with the tweezers stood up and walked towards him with a smile. Jamie dropped the ball on to the sand and kicked it to him, and the boy kicked it back. An older man from a different family joined them, then a teenage girl who whipped the ball from between them and dribbled it back to Jamie. The boy called out something indignant in Creole, and the game was on.

Emily lay on her front on the towel, comfortably warm and relaxed in the shade of bird-filled trees, the pain in her foot having now retreated to something more like a stubbed toe. She watched the group organise themselves into vaguely defined teams and throw down some towels as makeshift goalposts. Jamie ran and gesticulated and shouted in a mix of English and French and occasional Creole, his hard body shining with sweat and already turning brown after a few days in the sun. She remembered Kelly calling him ‘hunky’ and grinned to herself, feeling like she’d won the lottery.

‘Hey,’ whispered a gentle voice.

Emily dragged herself out of a groggy sleep to find Jamie lying on the sand next to her, propped up on one elbow. She rubbed her face with her hands, hoping it might smooth out the fuzzy towel imprint on her face.

‘Hey. I fell asleep.’

‘Over an hour ago. You looked so relaxed I didn’t want to wake you up.’

‘Oh God, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be silly. You clearly needed it.’

‘I think these past few days might have caught up with me. What have you been doing?’

‘Playing football, swimming, making new fish friends.’

Emily sat up, swiftly bundling her crusty salt hair into the hairband round her wrist. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Me too. How about we go back to the hotel, have a late lunch, then camp out by the pool for the afternoon? I think we’re both pretty shattered.’

Emily thought about lying on a sun lounger under an umbrella, or maybe sitting in the shallows of the pool with a book and a cold drink. It sounded like bliss.

‘Sounds good. Can we go snorkelling again later? I’ve got a second date with a turtle.’

Jamie laughed. ‘Whatever makes you happy.’

You make me happy, thought Emily, already feeling sad that they’d be going home in a few days.

Chapter Thirty

On Tuesday Emily and Jamie reluctantly checked out of the Lapis Lagoon Hotel and headed back to the Hunter beach house. It had been three nights of honeymoon-level bliss, and Emily felt sun-kissed and rested and happy. They’d done sunrise paddle boarding and another snorkelling trip, made the most of the pool, and even the vegan food had been great. Emily had eaten more fruit and done more exercise in the past few days than she usually managed in a month, and she felt all the better for it. They’d both fallen in love with the hotel – it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was welcoming and fun and had a nice buzz about it.

They’d also had a great deal of sex, which had also been fine by Emily. She’d enjoyed sex with Mark during the two years they were seeing each other, but he had liked to dominate proceedings and there’d always been an element of urgency to it, like they didn’t know when they’d get a chance to do it again. Jamie was a lot less assured but considerably more tactile, and never missed an opportunity to remind her how much he fancied her. Sometimes it was nothing more than a glance, but it was enough to give her a warm feeling that she carried around for the rest of the day.

By the time they arrived back at the beach house the Jimny had developed an audible rattle, so Jamie dropped her off outside the front door and headed to the garage in town. Emily grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, then went in search of Mr Hunter. She heard him in the office before she saw him, on a speakerphone call with a male voice that she quickly identified as Adam. She hovered in the corridor for a moment to see if the call was wrapping up.

‘And since we’re talking about property,’ said Adam in his usual sulky drawl, ‘I can’t believe you’re looking into property investments in Mauritius when you’re totally uninterested in the suggestions I gave you for investments in the UK.’

‘It’s a completely different proposition, Adam,’ said Mr Hunter, sounding tetchy and bored. ‘It’s a hotel.’

‘I’ve come to you with two hotels.’ Emily rolled her eyes; Adam was such a manbaby. It was clear this conversation wasn’t ending any time soon, so she turned to head back to the kitchen.

‘And what are Jamie and your floozy secretary doing there?’

Emily stopped in her tracks, her heart thumping.

‘That’s enough, Adam,’ said Mr Hunter, a note of warning in his voice. Emily wondered if this was the first time Adam had stuck the knife in about her since New Year, and decided it probably wasn’t.

‘You know I don’t trust her, Dad,’ Adam said petulantly. ‘She’s been at Bowford for five minutes and she’s got both of you wrapped round her little finger. She’s an absolute nobody, and suddenly she’s bagging free holidays and screwing members of the family. Not very professional, is it?’

‘I said that’s enough,’ shouted Mr Hunter, making a thumping noise on the desk, presumably with his fist. ‘How dare you talk about my staff that way? Who do you think you are?’

‘I’m your firstborn, Dad,’ spat Adam, ‘and for better or worse Bowford will one day be my responsibility. You can’t keep cutting me out like this, it’s not fucking fair.’

‘Oh, grow up, for God’s sake,’ Mr Hunter said. ‘You sound like your mother.’