better than most that you had to grab the moment while you could. Maybe it was time just to ‘go with the flow’, as Sam had always encouraged her—as she had been doing when she’d danced to the hypnotic calypso music. Maybe it was time to let life feel something other than small again, no matter what that meant. No matter if for ever wasn’t part of the package.
Mark leaned forward and whispered in her ear. ‘Look.’
The sun was almost gone now, the very last traces only just visible, and she’d been so busy daydreaming she’d almost missed it. Why was it so difficult to live in the moment and not get distracted by wounds of the past or fears for the future? She concentrated hard on the sun, knowing that capturing this moment for her memory banks was important somehow.
And then it happened.
Just as the orange lip of the sun disappeared there was a sizzle of emerald on the horizon. Ellie froze. It lasted only a second or two and then faded away. Mark was standing slightly to the side and behind her. She could hear his breathing, soft and shallow, in her right ear.
Then he began to move, and she moved too, turning to face him.
He looked at her for a long time, a solemn, almost sad expression on his face, and then, just as her mind started to go wild with questions, he leaned in close and kissed her, silencing them all.
Later that evening Ellie wandered on to her veranda alone. She leant on the criss-cross wooden railing and stared in amazement at the confusion of stars jostling for space in the midnight sky. Light from Mark’s cabin, a short distance through the gardens, was casting a faint glow on the waving palms, but there was no sign of him.
It had been a magical night—starting with that kiss.
By the time they’d returned the short distance up the trail from where they’d watched the sunset the sky had been a velvety dark blue, the sun long disappeared. They’d danced to the steel band, eaten sticky barbecue food with their fingers, and hadn’t been able to stop smiling at each other.
Her relationship with Mark had definitely crossed into new territory, but neither of them had brought the subject up, preferring just to live in the moment, rather than spoil it with words and theories.
She wasn’t just a fling to him.
The knowledge was there, deep down in her heart—in the same way she’d known after that first day of primary school that Sam’s life and hers would always be joined somehow.
There was something between them—her and Mark—something real. Only she didn’t have the words to describe it. And for the first time in a very long while the fact she couldn’t find the right word, couldn’t label something instantly, didn’t bother her in the slightest.
The next few days were almost too much for Ellie’s mind to deal with. She’d been so accustomed to guilt and pain and misery, clanging round her ankles like shackles, that the light, airy happiness she was feeling took a bit of getting used to. And the glorious island she was on and the wonderful man she was with just made life seem even more surreal.
But who needed real life, anyway?
She’d rather live this dream, where she spent almost every waking moment with Mark. They’d eaten at the most amazing places, ranging from surfside shacks to exclusive restaurants. They’d been sailing and had walked across countless beaches. Some evenings they’d gone out into the bustle of nearby St John’s; sometimes they’d just found somewhere quiet to watch the sun set. They hadn’t seen the green flash again, but Ellie didn’t worry about that. Once must be enough, surely?
And Mark…
He astounded her. He knew her every mood, anticipated her every need. He knew when to hold her tight and when to give her space without her even having to try and get the jumble of an explanation past her lips.
Marrying up this version of Mark with the grinning playboy she’d seen on the television all those months ago was almost impossible. She’d been so blinkered. But, even so, she was sure the way he was behaving wasn’t something she’d conveniently blocked out. He was different. More free. He was changing too.
And it only meant she loved him more.
As the week wore on, she felt the shadow of the approaching anniversary looming close on her horizon. With that blocking her view of the sun, it was hard to think about where her relationship with Mark might go, what it would become when they flew home on Saturday.
She’d just have to get Friday out of the way first. Then she’d be able to think clearly. Then maybe, when the plane took off and she watched the ground drop away, the houses and cars all become miniature versions of themselves, she’d be able to leave her small life behind her once and for all.
CHAPTER TEN
MARK finally spotted her, walking down near the shoreline, kicking the wavelets with a half-hearted foot. He walked to the edge of his veranda and focused more carefully, just to make sure he was right. He was. It was Ellie, looking very much like a lost soul on the deserted beach.
A storm had passed over the night before, and he’d lain awake in the early hours, listening to the creaking of his wooden cabin as the rain had gusted against it, the rustling of the tall palms in the hotel gardens as they curved and swayed in the wind, wondering if Ellie was awake in her cabin too. This morning it was grey, and slightly overcast, but everything was clean and fresh and new.
Normally that was a good thing.
He watched Ellie as she turned to face the wind and stared out to sea, lifeless as a statue. Yesterday he’d thought all his prayers had been answered. Her smiles across the dinner table had been warm and sweet and just for him.
As they’d headed home the sky had darkened, and by midnight rain had been hurling itself out of the sky with the force that only a tropical storm could manage. He and Ellie had spent their time snuggled up on the sofa in his cabin, watching a bad action movie. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.
Yet there had been no glitzy nightclub, no suffocating shirt and tie, no polished mannequin on his arm, laughing on cue at his jokes. Just him and Ellie having a late-night Room Service picnic on the carpet in front of the television. They’d talked about anything and everything, and sometimes nothing at all.
His celebrity-hungry girlfriends would have balked at such an evening. There was no point going out with Mark Wilder unless you were going to be seen out with him—and it had better be somewhere expensive! They would certainly have frowned upon scanning the film credits for the most interesting-sounding bit part. Ellie had won with ‘second tramp in explosion’. It had beaten his ‘teenager with nose-stud’ hands down.
Relaxing on the sofa with Ellie snuggled up under his arm, he’d realised that this was what normal felt like. He liked it. In fact, he could see himself doing it for a long time to come with her, and he hardly remembered why he had been so terrified of it for almost a decade. Now he had tasted it he wasn’t sure he could go back to living without it. It was kind of addictive.
What did that mean?
He tried not to think of the ‘m’ word, but no matter how he
