Chapter 39
In the end, Charlie and April take an earlier flight to Thailand, so our flight paths don’t coincide, but it gives them a day or so to catch up with Grandpa Dupré before I arrive. I, in turn, will be at the resort for an extra day after they leave. With Alain’s contacts and my press credentials, it was no trouble to change our reservations to a two-bedroom beach house that will accommodate the three of us. Charlie simply asked, ‘No Elliot?’ when I emailed to ask if he was happy with the arrangement. I replied, ‘No,’ and didn’t get a response.
I haven’t yet told him that we’ve split up – I think I want to gauge his reaction in person. The thought of that conversation makes me nervous.
Breaking up with Elliot took some of the shine off my forthcoming trip, but I’ve put my head down and cracked on with Confessions, keen to make serious inroads with the Morris-and-Kit plot before I bring Timo into the mix. I’ve loved constructing scenes set in the places that Charlie and I visited. The research really helped to bring the book and the characters to life for me, and it’s been a joy to let my imagination lead me wherever it wants to go. I’ve written a novel before, so I’m not inexperienced, but I seem to have more confidence than I did a few years ago, and, as long as I don’t think about the pressure or what people are expecting, the words flow freely.
I only hope Thailand will inspire me as much as Cornwall did.
Sara, meanwhile, has given up asking me about my blog. Presumably, she’s got bigger fish to fry.
Right now, so have I.
I fly to Krabi via Bangkok and am met at the airport by the transfer team, who take me by taxi to the dock. The resort is a short boat ride away, past several of the ethereal islands that Thailand is so famous for. The weather is warm and humid, a hazy heat hanging over the landscape. It’s a complete contrast to the crisp autumnal London I left behind.
I stand on the bow of the boat as the resort island comes into view, and as we draw closer to the evergreen shore, flanked on either side by tall, jagged cliff faces, I see them: Charlie with April on his shoulders, standing on the pristine white beach under the shade of a tree. My heart aches at the sight of them.
April is in a light-blue dress, which is almost, though not quite, the same colour as the water. Her blonde curls have become even more springy in the humidity. I can’t wait to hold her in my arms again.
My gaze drops to Charlie. He’s wearing khaki green shorts and a casual, white short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned at the top. The sight of him makes me feel breathless.
He smiles at me, keeping his steady hands on April’s little legs when I wave.
As I step off the boat onto the sandy shore, I notice a group of rock climbers tackling the nearby cliffs, but then Charlie is approaching and my attention is instantly diverted. He takes April down from his shoulders to give me a hug.
‘It’s so good to see you again,’ he says after a brief embrace. Butterflies have crowded into my tummy and I’m finding it hard to meet his eyes. Three weeks feels like a lifetime when you realise you’re in love with someone.
My awkwardness dispels when I turn to April. ‘Hello, cutie!’ I reach out to take her, desperate for a proper baby hug.
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, really do,’ 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.’
It’s also an excuse to see my bedroom. The intricately carved furniture is of dark wood and solid-looking, and the huge bed is made up with crisp white linen. There’s an en suite bathroom with an oval-shaped spa bath and a large green-tiled shower.
The finishes are of the highest quality, I think to myself with my travel writer’s hat on.
A series of expensive-looking toiletries have been set out on the long marble counter. I’ll be getting stuck into those later. . .
When I return downstairs, April has toddled off to their bedroom.
‘We need to watch her with the stairs,’ Charlie says. ‘No bags yet?’
I shake my head. ‘Not yet.’
‘You want a beer or something while we wait?’
‘I’d love one.’
He goes to the minibar and brings out two cans, cracking one open first before passing it to me.
‘Cheers,’ we say, bumping cans.
I’m still finding it really hard to look at him.
‘Have you seen Alain?’ I ask with forced casualness, taking a seat on the sofa and sinking right into it.
‘A couple of times,’ Charlie replies, opting for the armchair. He stretches his long, honey-coloured legs out in front of him and crosses his bare feet at the ankles. ‘He came to meet the boat yesterday and we had brunch this morning.’
‘How was it?’ I ask, taking a sip of my beer.
‘All right,’ he replies downheartedly, studying his own can. ‘Obviously, it’s hard for him with Nicki not being here. He got a bit tearful around April. She looks so much like her mum.’
‘I think she looks like you,’ I say without thinking.
He glances at me with interest. ‘Really?’
I avert my gaze. ‘Except for her eyes.’ April’s are blue.
There’s a knock on the door and I leap to my feet. The porter takes my bags straight upstairs.
‘Are you all right?’ Charlie asks when I’ve seen the porter out.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Why?’
‘You seem a bit jumpy.’
My cheeks immediately heat up. I press my palms to them. ‘I’m okay,’ I say in a voice muffled by the pressure on my face. I’m still standing by the door.
‘What is it?’ he asks with a light laugh.
‘I don’t know.’ I’m slightly mortified. ‘I think I’m feeling a bit shy. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys.’
‘Aw,’ he says, seeming thoroughly entertained. He has no trouble at all meeting my gaze. ‘Do we need a seven-second hug to reacquaint ourselves?’
‘Er. . .’ I’m not sure that will help. . .
Too late. He’s already up on his feet and walking over to me. He wraps his arms around me, but this time everything feels different.
The butterflies inside me go so berserk that I feel as if I could take off. It’s unbearable. I need to put a more comfortable distance between us.
‘Better?’ he asks, thankfully pulling back and staring at me.
He has no idea.
It gets worse when I come downstairs in my emerald-green bikini and hot-pink sarong to find that he’s wearing his swimming trunks.
And nothing else.
God, give me strength!
So that’s what he was hiding under T-shirts all summer: slim hips, toned navel and a broad, leanly muscled chest.
My face warms again, so I busy myself looking for towels while he puts April into a swimming nappy.
‘What are you after?’ Charlie asks me after a moment.
‘Towels?’ I respond.
‘There’s a hut down by the beach.’
I should have guessed that.
He sits April up.
‘Oh! I have something for her,’ I remember, hurrying back upstairs. ‘Don’t put her in a swimming costume!’ I call over my shoulder.
I return with a gift – a navy-blue-and-white-spotted costume, with red trimming and a frill around the middle.
‘That’s cute,’ he says as I help him to put it on.
I hope April is back to herself with me soon, I think with a pang. As if on cue, she looks up at me.
I pull a silly face at her and she smiles.
‘There you go,’ Charlie says kindly. ‘Now you can relax.’
If only he knew the other reason why I’m so tense.
Charlie and I walk April hand in hand down to the beach. The water is unreal – it’s so warm. Charlie zooms April to me and I catch her and give her a cuddle until she wriggles, wanting to be zoomed again. I’ve got to get my hugs in while I can.
‘I can’t believe we’re all here,’ he says later, when I’m floating on my back and staring up at the sky.
‘Me neither,’ I reply with a smile. I’ve been feeling ever so slightly more relaxed with every minute that passes in his company.
‘Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?’ he asks.
‘Is Alain working?’
‘Yes, he’s based at the continental restaurant where the boats come in, near the rock-climbing cliffs. They serve breakfast there, too.’
I was too side-tracked by Charlie and April earlier to pay the rock climbers much attention. Isak could’ve been halfway up the cliff face for all I knew. Maybe I’ll go there tomorrow for a look around, but tonight I just want to settle in.
‘Shall we go to the beach where the infinity pool is?’ I suggest. I think they do a variety of Asian cuisine at the restaurant there.
‘Sure.’
We return to our rooms to shower and get ready. I choose a black, lightweight, floaty dress and take more care with my hair and make-up than I would usually.
‘You look nice,’ Charlie says when I come downstairs. He’s reading a magazine in the armchair.
‘So do you,’ I reply.
‘This is what I had on earlier,’ he points out with a grin.
I shrug at him and his smile widens.
‘Shall I grab April?’ I need to get away before he sees me blushing. Again.
‘Go for it.’
I find her in the bathroom, coasting around the bath with a yellow rubber duck. She looks up at me.
‘We’re going to go and get some dinner now,’ I say, kneeling down beside her. ‘Are you hungry?’ She nods. ‘Can I have a cuddle?’ I open up my arms hopefully. She complies, edging forward into my embrace.
The pressure in my chest as I lift her up and hold her to me is immense.
The restaurant has a bar area with a row of comfy-looking armchairs facing the water, so we decide to sit and have cocktails first, while Charlie peruses the menu for something to eat for April.
‘We could just sit here while she eats,’ he muses. ‘We might even be able to get her to fall asleep afterwards so we can have some peace and quiet.’
‘It’s lucky she’s still young enough to do that in her pram,’ I say. ‘I bet it gets more difficult as she gets older.’
‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘I reckon she’ll conk out pretty quickly. She’s still getting used to the time difference. How are you faring?’ he asks.
‘A bit out of it,’ I admit. ‘But the longer I hold out, the better I should feel tomorrow.’
I choose a lemongrass, lime and Thai basil mojito and Charlie goes for a margarita. He also orders a serving of mini fish and chips for April and some crispy prawns in coconut batter to see us by.
Maybe it’s the hazy sky, or maybe it’s the company, but I’m sure I’m witnessing the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. It flows up from the horizon in a wash of intense pink and vibrant orange. It is utterly breathtaking. Charlie goes off to try to get April to sleep in her pram while I sit there, sipping my second mojito and just taking it all in.
‘Do you reckon we could eat here?’ I ask when he returns because I really don’t want to move from this position into the main restaurant.
‘I don’t see why not,’ he replies, fixing a mosquito net to the front of April’s pram and sitting back down beside me. He stares contemplatively at the sky. ‘It’s no wonder Nicki loved it here.’
It hurts to hear the longing in his voice.
Ever since breaking up with Elliot, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about whether Charlie and I might have a future together. If anything does develop between us, I know it won’t – can’t – happen here. It’s too soon, and this trip, for him, is about April connecting with Alain. It’s about the wife he loved ‘to hell and back’ and the daughter she left behind. And for me, it’s about doing the best job that I possibly can with Nicki’s book. The last thing it is – the last thing it could ever be – is a romantic getaway for him and me.
I’d love him to start thinking of me as more than just his friend, but it’s not simply a case of small steps here. We’re talking teeny-tiny, miniscule, Borrowers-style steps. I’ll need to tread as carefully with him as if I were walking barefoot on shattered sea glass. This will take time. And we’ll have plenty of time once we get back to England and this book is finished. I care too much about him to risk screwing this up by rushing things.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say quietly. ‘I bet you wish she was here.’
He doesn’t reply for a long moment. ‘Yeah,’ he says heavily, but then he smiles at me. ‘I’m glad you are, though.’
I take a sip of my drink, feeling apprehensive. ‘How did Kate and Valerie react when you told them we’d all be here together?’ I ask.
He appears uncomfortable. ‘Not well,’ he replies. ‘I don’t think either of them has ever had a friend of the opposite sex before, so they don’t get it. I decided not to tell them that Elliot wasn’t coming after all.’ He flashes me a cynical look.
‘What would they do?’ I ask suddenly, unable to help myself. I do need to lay some foundations. ‘What would they do if you and I were more than just friends?’
He lets out a single, bitter laugh. ‘Never speak to me again.’
My eyes widen. ‘Come off it. Did they say that?’ I don’t believe it.
‘They did actually,’ he replies.
A bad feeling washes over me.
‘ “If I ever find out that it’s more, I’ll never speak to you again.” Something like that.’
‘Kate actually said that out loud?’ I feel sick.
He shrugs. ‘Yeah. Obviously, she’d still want a relationship with April, but she’d never forgive me.’
‘Jesus, am I really that awful?’ I ask with a mixture of shock, consternation and hurt.
‘Of course you’re not,’ he replies in a gruff voice, waving me away. ‘Just ignore her.’ He picks up his menu. ‘We should probably order.’
It’s no surprise that I’m no longer hungry. So much for laying foundations.