To my surprise and disappointment, she makes a negative sound and turns away from me, burying her face against Charlie’s neck.
‘She’s tired,’ he says apologetically.
‘Jetlag?’ I ask, trying not to feel too hurt.
‘Hellish,’ he confirms, grimacing.
The resort staff take me and the other new arrivals for an induction session so we can hear about the rules and facilities. Charlie waits for me, and, as he walks April around the open-aired pavilion, pointing out various shiny statues and ornaments, I sip on my fruit cocktail and try to concentrate. But my eyes keep drifting to them.
There’s no need for a member of staff to show me to my room because Charlie knows where we’re going. My luggage will follow.
The three of us walk side by side along a winding redbrick path, its borders thick with ferns and tropical fauna. Vines dangle down from the leafy canopy overhead, and everywhere we look, flowers are in full bloom.
‘Look! A monkey!’ I shout, spying a small grey fellow up in a tree.
‘There are dozens of them around,’ Charlie replies.
‘Monkey sightings never get old,’ I tell him, meeting his eyes fleetingly. It seems impossible, but they’re even more beautiful and unusual than I remembered.
I smile at April. ‘Are you going to come to me now?’ I ask her sweetly.
She shakes her head and looks the other way.
‘Oh,’ I say despondently, my lips turning down at the corners.
‘She was a bit unsettled after we last saw you,’ Charlie confides, trying to explain April’s behaviour.
‘So it’s not just jetlag?’ That worries me greatly.
‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘She’s just got to get used to you again. Here we are.’
I look ahead to what will be our home for the duration of our stay. There are two circular huts, joined together in the middle and surrounded by a high wicker fence. One hut is two-storey, the other single. They each have a cone-like thatched roof that points to the sky. As Charlie leads me around the corner to the gate, I see through a break in other nearby huts that the beach is literally right there.
‘Can we go and have a look?’ I ask him.
‘Sure.’
The long stretch of white sand curves around and out of view to our right. To our left it comes to a stop where it meets an enormous, towering, grey-and-orange limestone cliff. It’s as tall as a skyscraper and its very top is thick with jungle-like cover, like a head of resplendent green hair. To our right is a row of moored long-tail boats serving food and drinks, their colourful signage spilling out onto the sand, advertising their wares. The barbecues on board sizzle and smoke with everything from chicken satays and burgers to prawns on skewers. Other boats sell fruit, ice creams and drinks. Behind them is a huge, bulbous limestone island, and, off in the distance, several more otherworldly islands fade away into the heat haze. The still, clear, aquamarine water looks unbelievably inviting.
‘You want to go for a swim?’ Charlie asks.
‘I really,reallydo,’ I reply with a grin. I hope my suitcase has arrived at the room with my swimming things inside.
We head back around the corner and go through the gate belonging to our hut. There’s a modest private pool with a waterfall running down a smooth slate wall into the pool water, and four sun loungers lined up beside it. A short, but cheerfully winding brick path leads us beneath a heavenly scented frangipani tree to the wooden front door. Charlie unlocks it with a key and pushes the door open.
The pleasant smell of incense wafts out as we enter into a circular living space, complete with a deep-seated sofa, a single armchair, a coffee table, flat-screen TV and a minibar.
‘Your room is upstairs.’ He nods towards the staircase that winds around part of the living room’s outer wall. ‘April and I are through there.’ He nods to the second, single-storey hut that adjoins this one. ‘Nice, eh?’ He glances at me for agreement.
‘Amazing,’ I reply.
‘Bet you’ve seen some incredible places on your travels, though.’
‘This is right up there,’ I tell him.
He seems pleased by my comment.
‘I don’t think my bags are here yet,’ I say. ‘Unless they’re upstairs. I’ll just check.’
