* * *
It’s later that night after a day of sunbathing and reading and drinking piña coladas when I head to my room. I’m the only one staying for the full three weeks, so I have the master suite, the huge room that overlooks the pool and then the ocean. Space. So much space and it’s glorious to have room to think without the countless engagements or people or visitors or family.
I hang over the balcony, watching the sea swell, the distant lights of the yachts and boats twinkling against the night. It’s warm, the air sticky and humid. At some point while I’m asleep the rain will fall and tomorrow there will be freshness that’s unpolluted by this tension.
The thin robe around me is too short and too fine, clinging to damp flesh. There are unlikely to be any photographers who’d catch me here, even with a decent lens so I don’t trouble myself when the robe parts a little too far, my skin seeking relief that it doesn’t find.
Inside I can use the air con, but it seems a waste of an experience. This weather isn’t normal in Scotland, the tropical humidity not normal. My migraines don’t visit here.
There’s a cool breeze and my robe falls open, no longer meeting in the middle. When I was younger, a little girl, I used to love being naked, to feel the air against my skin. Nothing has changed apart from I can’t do that anymore. But here, in the darkness, away frompeople, I have some privacy. My brother is with Genevieve again, Nina and the other staff off duty. I don’t know where Ben is; maybe liaising with the island’s security, checking their CCTV.
I open my robe, catching the slight breeze against my front, keeping my breasts shielded, between my legs covered by the balcony railings. There are no stars tonight. The moon is shrouded by dense clouds, promising a storm.
Once, when were younger, I snuck out of my room in the summer and found Ben, sitting outside as the rain thudded down, soaking through his T-shirt and jeans. I’d wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and pressed my chest into his back, feeling his breath hitch and then he had hold of me, moving me so we could kiss.
That kiss in the rain had been everything apart from innocent. We’d kissed before, but that night was the start of something more, something I hadn’t known before. Desire.
I’m too lost in my thoughts to acknowledge the figure dressed in black below me. His words jolt me from my memories.
“I can find you a nudist beach, if you want.”
I feel his gaze on my breasts. Then I feel powerful.
“I’m good here.”
There’s no one else around. The yachts have disappeared, docking in an area that’s less affected by the weather and blackness taunts the island.
He can’t look away. I know he’s remembering too, and I know that what he remembers isn’t the same as what he’s seeing as the girl that used to be is now a woman. All grown.
I drop the robe.
Sticky heat drapes across my skin but my nipples pucker, exposed. Ben’s eyes move from my breasts to my eyes and his expression is stone.
“Someone might see.”
“Someone is seeing.” I make no effort to cover myself.
“You should go inside.” His voice is hoarse, rough, like his hands.
“I will. I’ll try to sleep in the heat.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve never known anyone who feels the weather like you.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I lean further over the balcony, my breasts heavy, exposed. I can see his face even in the poor light. I know he won’t leave because he can’t.
This is how it was between us: transfixed. Before he left, he’d been a magnet, the pull of him too strong and the pull growing stronger over the years that I knew him.
Now I was his kite, pulled to him by the invisible string of our gaze, but I don’t know who’s in control. Maybe it’s neither of us.
Rain starts as if someone has just pressed a button, heavy and hard. I stand up, waiting for the inevitable crack of thunder, but it doesn’t come. Not yet.
It’s waiting. For the inevitable break in the pressure.
It’s me who leaves first, turning and walking naked into my suite, the first fork of lightning momentarily highlighting everything. I know Ben’s still watching, probably long after I’m gone.
He likes the rain too.
Chapter Nine
