‘Good idea.’
I don’t bother giving Mai instructions on how to release the stuck window. Or that occasionally the radiator needs to be hit like a xylophone to produce heat. Petty, but satisfying.
13
After an interminable twenty-four hours in transit, I arrive on the island of Mahé red-eyed, a bag of mixed emotions. Not ideal and not the right mood to start my shiny new life. I give myself a pep talk as I stop and buy a sim card and switch it over. Lost in a tired fog, I trail through customs. From here, the plan is to take a boat to the tiny island of Esperé. I remind myself this is a fabulous opportunity, a fresh start! A chance to rebuild. Reflect. Who gets their life decimated and swaps it for a bookshop on a tropical island? I should be jumping for joy. I vow to make this the next best chapter of my life.
Outside, the bright sunshine hits me at the same time the humidity does. My hair absorbs the water in the air and frizzes, and my natural blonde curls are restored back to factory settings. Another plus; there’s obviously no point straightening my unruly hair here in paradise. More time to sink my nose into a book.
Shading my face with a hand, I scan the area for Gus and instead find a guy holding a sign aloft with my name on it. With a rapid Seychellois greeting, he takes my suitcase and jostles me towards a different section of the airport to what appears to be a helicopter. Yes, definitely a helicopter. He flings my suitcase into a cargo area in the belly of the bright yellow bird and motions for me to enter the cabin. No one mentioned a helicopter. And just who is this guy? He could be people smuggling me and I’m not so naïve as to just comply.
‘Wait, where’s Gus?’ Should I be asking to see this man’s credentials? How unlucky could a person be, being snatched off a tropical island? Although with my run of luck lately, it’s probably worth checking. ‘Can I see some ID?’
The guy does a full belly laugh, although I’m not quite sure why. ‘This is how we get to the Last Chance Resort.’ He flashes a toothy smile. His teeth are blindingly bright, I’ll give him that. Dental hygiene is important, but I’ve got bigger issues than his pearly whites, so I shove the thought away.
I distinctly remember Gus mentioning a ferry that would take us from Mahé to Esperé; at no point was a helicopter mentioned. Not once. I don’t exactly love boats either, but it feels like the safer choice.
‘Let’s go. Your chariot awaits!’
‘My…’ I’m not so sure about this. ‘But…’
He gives me a gentle nudge on the back. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’ He points to the control tower. ‘We’re on a schedule here and I don’t want to upset the powers that be. They’ve got long memories.’
‘Uh-huh.’ This guy is clearly a people snatcher in a great big hurry. I gulp. What does one do when faced with this set of circumstances? I wish Mai had taught me the Krav Maga chokehold. Sadly because I was the chokee, not the choker, I have no clue which limb went where for maximum effect. Strangulation was involved, but that’s where my knowledge ends.
Casual as anything, he pops on a pair of aviator sunglasses and says, ‘So, holidaying alone?’ Why does that sound so ominous?
I bristle, ignore his question like he has done with mine and reiterate my concern. ‘You’re not Gus.’
‘I’m Michel.’ He gives a loose shrug. ‘I do airport transfers for the resort.’
I debate whether to give this guy some pointers on making his guests feel safe but hold off. ‘But Gus was supposed to be here.’ I think back to our conversation. Did I simply presume it would be Gus picking me up? It makes sense a five-star resort would have a dedicated person to handle airport transfers.
‘Gus doesn’t fly choppers! There’s only me for airport transfers. But once you’re on Esperé, you have a few options. Most locals use bicycles to get around. The resort can cater to your every whim, whether you want a private car for tours or…’
‘I’m here to work at the Barefoot Bookshop.’ I fire off a text to Lily, grateful I swapped sim cards at the airport, so I have data.
Harper
I’ve landed. And now some guy named Michel has arrived to take me in a HELICOPTER. He’s about six foot tall, thick lustrous hair, warm brown complexion, cheeky wide smile – has a tattoo of a giant tortoise on his arm. Athletic physique.
There, that’s enough for her to go on if I should vanish.
Lily
Oooh fun! Have we got ourselves a new love interest already?!
Oh my God. Does she not understand I could very well be in mortal danger?
Harper
Lily, he could be a people snatcher! His name might not even be Michel! No one mentioned a helicopter flight to the island. What if this is all a ruse?
You hear about this kind of thing all the time.
An official approaches and lets out a barrage of Seychellois Creole. Michel points to me. The official rolls his eyes and then motions for me to enter the cockpit as if I’m an annoying tourist who is being difficult for no good reason. Maybe they’re both in on this, or can I trust the official since he does wear a legitimate-looking uniform?
‘Tick tock,’ Michel says.
