Once more I thought about the trip I’d been expecting. My holiday weeks off work were so precious. I didn’t get time to relax properly all year round as I never had even two days off straight.
I wanted to collapse in a heap and wail at the injustice. Yes, I loved my career. That didn’t mean I wasn’t in need of chill time. My chin trembled. I’d dreamt of daily massages and sunning myself by a pool… but now I imagined this break would consist of getting up at the crack of dawn and using muscles I never even knew I had, despite helping housekeeping make beds and guests move suitcases that felt as if they’d been filled with lead.
I scratched my neck and ants covered my hand. I yelped and leapt away from the tree trunk, brushing myself down as if I were on fire.
That was it. I strode back to camp and went straight up to Rick.
‘Can you tell me the time of the next boat back to Tortola, please?’
His lifted the front rim of his hat and smiled. ‘I’ll put a list up of day trips, for the weekend. And just let me know if there’s anything else you want to know. I’m always here to help.’
‘No. I mean, for before then.’
He looked puzzled. ‘There isn’t one until tomorrow morning.’
‘But there must be. This is a holiday destination.’
‘No. This is a conservation project.’
Suddenly his voice sounded almost as tired as I felt. I didn’t blame him, permanently living in a place like this. Although I wasn’t blind to its natural appeal, like the relaxing sound of waves breaking instead of car engines or a computer’s whirr, the pollution-free air and trees greener than AstroTurf.
‘That we’re nevertheless paying handsomely to visit,’ I said, assuming the voice I used at work if a guest was being unreasonable. ‘What if I had an emergency back in England? There must be some sort of shuttle service. I don’t mind how long I have to wait on the beach. Just give me a time and I’ll sort myself out. I know you’re busy.’
‘Is it urgent?’
‘Yes,’ I said, trying to work out, in my head, exactly how long my meagre savings would last whilst I wasn’t employed.
Rick rubbed the stubble beard that left me wondering what it would feel like against my skin, if we kissed.
A purely hypothetical question. We were hardly a match. All the men in my line of work wore suits and full-beards or were clean shaven. Management didn’t approve of the nine o’clock shadow look.
‘Or more a matter of cold feet?’ he asked. His hand, with the clipboard, dropped to his side. Jackie appeared, carrying a bag of water bottles.
‘No. Because that implies I knew about—’
He gave a small sigh and muttered to Jackie, ‘Another one.’
‘Another what?’ I interrupted.
He looked back at me. ‘Pardon?’ His mouth upturned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Nothing. Look, get down to the shoreline for ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Jackie will sail you back.’ He looked at her. She shrugged and nodded. ‘But I’m afraid there’s no refund. If you’ve read them, you’ll know that is stated in the terms and conditions.’
‘Anotherwhat?’ I repeated.
He hesitated. ‘Just occasionally people turn up who’ve either watched too many YouTube videos of Richard Branson’s island…’
Heat crept up my neck.
‘Or who think conservation is a fashion and means of building their Instagram feed. I call it Green Bragging. Needless to say, in both cases, they haven’t studied Seagrass Conservation’s website in detail so our way of life comes as a shock.’
‘Now just a minute, I—’
‘Rick. Why don’t you leave this to me,’ said Jackie and shot me a sympathetic glance.
Who did this Rick bloke think he was, talking to me like that?
‘I can assure you, that’s not the case with me. I didn’t even know that—’
‘You aren’t the first and probably won’t be the last person apprehensive about hard manual graft. I don’t blame you,’ he said in a kinder tone. ‘What with technology, man’s life has evolved to rely on easier options. Look, if you want to take some photos of the animals and birds we have, before leaving, I’m happy to take you over to the enclosures first thing and—’
