And why couldn’t she have been a bitch instead of so perky and helpful and so…bloody nice?
But she’d made notes on him, planning a big fat story, as if his life were public property.A ransacked bag on a stranger’s bedroom floor.
“Dan, breakfast!”Christopher Mac poked his grinning face through the crack in the door.“I’ll walk with you to Atiu Cabins afterwards.”
“Thank you.”Dan pushed up a smile and stuffed his belongings—the ones he could find—back into his bag.He slipped on his flip-flops and followed Christopher Mac to the kitchen.
Last night, he’d sat at the table talking to the whole family, answering their questions about England and why he hadn’t wanted to stay with Libby.
“We’ve argued,” he’d said, then had ironically ended up doing exactly what Libby would’ve done and fired a thousand questions at them about life on the island so they couldn’t ask him any more about himself.
“Good morning,” he said now as he walked into the kitchen.
Christopher Mac’s mother was frying eggs.She waved her wooden spatula toward the window that overlooked the road.“Your wife and son were outside just now.”
“They’re not my wife and son,” Dan said for what must’ve been the hundredth time.Though the scoffs working around the table told him they all knew it and were winding him up.“She’s just a friend.”
“Not so much of a friend now if you’re here.”
“I told you we argued.”
“You make up, then.”
“No.”
“Stubborn man.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my lookout.”Feeling twelve years old again, Dan cleared his throat and thanked everyone for letting him stay last night and for breakfast.He didn’t offer to pay them—that felt like it would offend their generosity—so instead he offered to buy the kids ice cream by the harbor later and also asked Christopher Mac’s mum if she needed any groceries.She gave him the names of a few items, and after breakfast, Christopher Mac, his siblings, and his cousins—who appeared out of nowhere—showed him the way to Atiu Cabins, where Dan planned to stay for the rest of his time on the island.
As they walked to the Cabins, the children chatted happily around him and somehow multiplied in numbers.He was the Pied Piper, only with sweat dripping around his face and a sense of foreboding doom that these kids were leading him into nowhere rather than the other way around.Eventually, they turned toward what looked like the center of the village, and Dan recognized the Christian Church he and Libby had visited yesterday.
“It’s this way,” Christopher Mac said and headed down a road on their left.
But Dan stopped to stare at the white building.Libby was there.At the entrance to the church.Her lips were bright red, and even from this far back, he could see the flash of silver on her eyelashes.Why was she made up like that again?And she was holding a selfie stick, recording herself and the old Maori man standing next to her.The priest?She was interviewing the priest?
Why?
When she looked his way, she lowered her selfie stick and stared at him for a moment before turning her back.
He’d told her to keep away from him, but really, he needed to keep away from her.Losing his temper like that last night hadn’t been great at all, but he didn’t feel like apologizing.He’d grown wise to her sharp intelligence and shrewd perceptiveness, hidden beneath her dangerously warm, sunny smiles.Dan turned away and followed the kids down the empty, winding road until they reached the sign for the Cabins.
“Hey, kids, mind if we do ice cream tomorrow?”Dan asked.“My legs are done today, but here’s some money for your mum’s shopping.”He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, handed them twenty dollars, and they took off at speed back up the road with shouts ofSee you later, alligator!
Their young limbs moved with ease, jumping, skipping, running.Dan’s muscles tightened, and his heart squeezed.
“Hello there!”
A tall, white, and very British man was walking toward him.He had thin gray hair and wore an olive-green linen shirt and trousers that made him look like an old colonel from Imperial days.
“I’m Henry Harrison.Pleased to meet you.”He stuck out his right hand and gave Dan’s a firm shake.
“I’m Dan.Good to meet you, too.”
“I hear you’re looking for a room because you’ve fallen out with your wife,” Henry said.
“She’s not my wife.”Dan let out a weary sigh and rubbed his temple.“We met five days ago.We have the same surname, but that’s the only thing we have in common.”
“Okay, young chap,” Henry said, slapping a hand on his shoulder.“Women are an acquired taste, I find.Much like brandy.”
