“Yes.”
I start running again without looking back at the couple, and as I glance inland, I see several cottages, built in the same style as ours, lined up along the shore—the other staff accommodations. It’s like a tiny village. I know some staff are on rotation, some live on the island, and some come and go at an alarming rate. What I read between the lines as Setiawan and I chatted between the two dives yesterday, is that staff retention and happiness are an issue here.
And to think this is what they call paradise, and Lexi and I are faking an engagement to be here. Maybe by the end of our three months, we’ll be ready to escape too. For now, I aim to spend all the time I can underwater and max the filming so I have footage to edit.
I go straight to the staff canteen after my run, and it’s clear I’m not the only early bird around here. A lot of staff seems to like to get things done in the cooler hours of the morning. Inside the kitchen, the chef and his assistants are prepping for the day. Food is already laid out for staff, and I introduce myself toeverybody I don’t know yet. When Don appears minutes later, I smile.
“You look better rested. Heard from Lexi that you crashed yesterday,” he says as he pours himself a coffee.
“Yep, I’ll be fine now. The jet lag got the better of me.”
“That’s okay. We built it into our planning. We’ve got a lot to go through today, though, so let me know when you’re ready to get started.”
The next couple of days are beyond bananas. Between two dives a day, several night dives in a row, and a whole rotation of guests—people who leave after the Christmas and New Year’s break and those who come in after—it’s mayhem.
Or maybe it isn’t, but it feels that way to me. Setiawan’s gone, and I’m accosted by new guests who walk into the dive center at random to ask questions, and I don’t always have the answers. I drag in Mike and Roger to help, but Mike always defers to Roger, which is weird. Mike has been at Ne’emba since the lodge opened, is married to the office assistant, Jem, and lives onsite, but he doesn’t seem interested in helping me out. He’s quite friendly, until he isn’t. And since meeting Roger on my morning jog—which hasn’t happened again—he seems even more suspicious of me than before. He knows everything about the dive center, though, so I let him run with the questions and learn as I go.
Now we’re standing on the beach, giving Don and Miriam the subdued staff farewell. Mike is taking them to Pemba by boat, and from there they’ll travel back to the US.
“Well, thank heavens for that,” Lexi murmurs once they’re out of earshot. “Now we can breathe.”
I look over at her, not sure I heard right. “You’re not a fan?”
“Miriam likes to micromanage. She’s set in her ways and doesn’t bend to what the rule book dictates here, which gets on everybody’s nerves. Not that there’s much to manage, with Jem at the helm.” She shrugs. “You’re lucky. Don didn’t follow you underwater.”
“No, he didn’t,” I say with a chuckle. “But it’s your show now.”
“Yep. Time to shine…if Jem will let me.”
We turn to walk back to the hotel. “What do you mean?” I watch as Jem heads back in the direction of the offices, huffing with the slight incline of the beach. She’s a short, stout woman, her African hair neatly braided. Thirty years is a long time to spend on a small island in the middle of nowhere. She and Mike have no children—or at least it doesn’t seem so—and Ne’emba is their whole life.
“This island is Jem’s baby, and she’s as protective as a mother hen.” She sighs. “It’ll be fine. How’re you holding up?”
We’ve been like ships in the night. I’ve set up my closet office and disappear into it as soon as I’m home after the night dives, working on the footage I was able to take that day. Every night I’ve found a meal of sorts waiting for me, that Lexi’s snuck out of the staff canteen. I’m always careful to clean up after eating. If the cockroaches are anything like the mosquitos, I don’t want to come face to face with them.
Lexi’s asleep by the time I go to bed, and it’s with silent agreement that we’ve gotten into this habit. I go for a run before she’s awake—she might fake still being asleep for all I know—but by the time I’m back for a shower, she’s gone. Evan joked that we’d be so busy we’d hardly have time to share a morning coffee, and this is exactly where we are.
“I’m good,” I say. “Hanging in there.”
I glance toward the dispersing staff. I haven’t met everyone since my world revolves around diving and the work I try to get done on the sly.
“Who are the two Indian women? They look like twins.” I’m not sure which one I saw with Roger, but it was one of them.
“They’re sisters and run the spa,” Lexi says. “Organized, solid, and here against their dad’s wishes.”
“What?” I’m far removed from the gossip, whereas Lexi has plunged straight into its slipstream. “Weird.”
“Yes. Long story. Something about running a spa being culturally inappropriate this far away from parental supervision. Their dad doesn’t like it one bit, but their mom is rooting for them all the way. They wanted to start their own business and got a short-term contract, just like us, two years ago. They were only meant to fill a three-month gap, but they’ve been here ever since.”
“Good for them.”
“Good for us. They do amazing hair and makeup, which is a key part of the Beaumont wedding package included for the bridal party.”
“I see.” We turn away and walk to our cottage together for the first time. It’s just after lunch, and I need to get back to the dive center if I want to sneak in a solo dive on one of the reefs this afternoon.
“How’s your project going?” she asks.
“Even better than I thought it would. Do you want to see?”
