Callum’s shoulders tightened as he resumed stirring porridge. ‘I can’t.’
I didn’t push him, just rested my head on his arm while he finished making breakfast. If I were his actual partner, someone who’d be here longer than four more short weeks, then maybe I would have. I’d take the progress we’d made with talking about his past and press into his other hurting places. But that kind of delving required being around for the fallout. I wasn’t about to push Callum to open up more and reconcile with his sister if I wasn’t also going to be here to support him through all of that.
‘She said to dress nicely,’ I mumbled around a mouthful of porridge once we’d relocated to the sofa. Callum didn’t look at me much while we ate. Maybe he found it toofreaking sexy when I stuffed my face. A boy could dream. ‘What does that mean?’
‘My guess is she’s messing with you,’ Callum muttered, eyebrows drawn down. He scowled at the embers in the fireplace, the flames banked so they wouldn’t flare up while we were out for the day.
Despite my many attempts—most of which were sexual in nature—to distract Callum from his sister’s unerring ability to burst happiness bubbles, the frown never really left his face until he dropped me off outside her cottage the next day.
I grabbed his arm before he drove away on his quad bike/death machine. I wasn’t sure he would want to confirm Bonnie’s suspicions, so settled for squeezing his shoulder and giving him a warm smile.
‘I’ll see you later, Cal.’
He raised his fingertips to mine before revving the engine and speeding off. He’d confirmed Kit could give me a lift home, so after he completed his stockpile-esque shopping, he would head up the mountain without me. He’d asked if I needed anything and seemed confused when I’d said no. He couldn’t have known I was lying. There was no way I’d ask him to get the items I needed. Bonnie said there were other people to meet this afternoon, so surely I’d get a moment to sneak away to the island’s pharmacy.
‘Woah.’ Bonnie stood in her picturesque cottage’s doorway, her nose wrinkled. ‘No need to ask if you and my baby bro have been getting it on.’
I raised a hand to my face. I’d commenced a moisturising routine, so had barely any beard burn. The love bites Callum had sucked into my skin the night before were covered by clothing.Unless Bonnie whipped off my trousers and examined my inner thighs—which Callum seemed to have a not-at-all-unpleasant obsession with—then she should have no idea about them.
I pushed past her into the house and stripped off my coat and walking boots. ‘You’re a weirdo with no idea of normal decorum.’
Bonnie barked a laugh. ‘Nice shirt.’
I smoothed the fabric, then turned to meet her shit-eating grin. ‘Thanks.’
I hadn’t been sure whether Callum was right and Bonnie was messing with me, so I’d gone for a navy shirt patterned with tiny pink flamingos and my cleanest pair of dark jeans. It became manifestly clear she was being her usual amount of massively shit when I followed her into the kitchen-diner and everyone else was dressed in mud-splattered jumpers and fleeces.
Still, I wasn’t too overdressed and the only seat left at the table was as far from Bonnie as possible, so for most of lunch my smile was genuine. Others might think a meal spent defending the use of public funds for someone to catalogue flowers wasn’t a pleasant way to pass their time, but I loved this stuff. Seeing the dawning comprehension as people realised caring for wild places—and wild flowers in particular—had a direct impact on the not-so-wild places of this world made me want to punch the air and demand a round of high fives.
‘Good work in there,’ Bonnie said as she walked me to the front door a couple of hours later.
I glanced up from lacing my boots. Her voice was even and sincere, her words unclouded by double meaning. ‘Thank you?’ I said, as I shrugged on my coat.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Is it so hard to believe that I genuinely wanted you to do a good job today?’
I narrowed my eyes, sensing she wouldn’t want to hear my answer. But then, she was mayor. She’d made the decision to let me come here. She was my main advocate.
‘Actually no.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘How does it feel to press pause on being an arsehole?’
Bonnie grinned wolfishly and, before I could stop her, did the weird face touching thing she’d done the last time I’d had lunch here.
She stepped back and tipped her head to one side. ‘Now you’ve got my cooties.’
I yanked open the front door. ‘Which one is Frank’s house again?’
‘Sure you don’t want me to walk you there?’ Bonnie’s smile as I spun away was full of the promise of inappropriate things she’d say if I lingered for a minute longer in her presence.
‘I’m going to go with no.’ I stomped down the front path to the pretty gate. Poor island children had no idea a monster lived here. I wondered how many Bonnie ate each year.
‘It’s the sky-blue one in the middle of the far row,’ she shouted over the clanging gate. ‘Oh, and please tell my brother that having regular orgasms normally chills people out. He could use that chill to, you know, see his friends and family. Perhaps even converse with them.’
‘Bye, Bonnie,’ I shouted, refusing to turn my head and let her see my flushed skin. She might suspect Callum and I were fucking, but that didn’t mean the rest of the island had to hear about it. I didn’t think Callum would be ashamed, but he was a private guy. There was a difference between not hiding something and broadcasting it farand wide.
The red tinge to my cheeks could be blamed on Doughnut’s cutting sea wind rather than cringing embarrassment by the time I reached the end of Bonnie’s section of terraces and walked along the frontages of the second. They were all painted bright colours like the rows on either side, but their downstairs windows had been widened to show off the wares inside. A pink bakery sent sugary smells out to the narrow street, a red bookshop boasted aGruffalodisplay, a yellow supermarket touted fresh fruit and veg. I ducked into the dark blue pharmacy.
I couldn’t buy what I needed without being noticed by someone, but I hoped the only witness would be the tiny old woman knitting behind the till. I didn’t know the deal with pharmacists, but some kind of confidentiality had to be at play here. The islanders wouldn’t appreciate their various ailments being discussed without permission. I had to hope the same courtesy extended to visitors.
I quickly scanned shelves of shower gels and various tubes of cream I didn’t read the labels of too carefully, and found what I needed tucked in the furthest corner from the till. I’d expected the condom and lube selection on a tiny island to be dusty and sadly lacking, but the display ran across four shelves. There had to be other randy couples on Doughnut giving this section of the pharmacy a steady stream of business.
