until we get the cash flowing. Not quite the same.’
They were walking along the beachfront, and in the distance Rachel could see the Sunset Bungalows.
‘Look, there they are, winking at us. Let’s go and look at them.’
‘What bit of “we can’t afford it” don’t you understand?’ he chuckled.
‘Just a peek,’ she said, taking his hand and tugging him along the sand.
‘A quick look. And then you’re going home, before you fall over.’
‘I’m not drunk,’ she laughed, feeling suddenly happy and heady.
She ran ahead of him, and then turned round to beckon him to go faster. He squinted in the soft sunset light and smiled at her, a long, slow killer half-smile that made her heart gallop. The same gallop she had felt the night they had first met. The night after she had arrived in Ko Tao, a little lonely, here for just a couple of days of diving before heading onwards to the next Paradise island. Liam had been the only other Westerner in a tiny back-street café, and when they’d both ordered the same fifty-baht curry, he’d leaned over and joked that they would both have dysentery by the morning. Not the most romantic first line, she had to admit, but when he was that good-looking, who cared.
Rachel had hoped they’d be sharing a bed the next morning rather than a case of food poisoning, but the night hadn’t panned out that way. Instead they had talked until dawn, about life and broken loves and the possibilities facing them both. Until that evening with Liam, Rachel hadn’t been sure what she wanted to do with her life, which direction to turn. But as the sun had risen over the bay like a cantaloupe melon, she knew she wanted to stay here and have a lifetime full of nights like this.
‘I’m going to stay and become a diving instructor,’ she’d announced.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ he’d said, raising his beer.
‘You want to join me?’
She remembered how fast her heart had been beating. A recognition that she didn’t just want to stay on Ko Tao, but that she wanted him to stay too.
‘Okay.’
And it was as simple as that. They had begun the business the next day, and she had suppressed any romantic thoughts about Liam with the same ruthless efficiency she applied to growing their diving school. For all the banter between them, the possibly imaginary undercurrent of something not entirely platonic, it was the easiest relationship of her life. They complemented each other. He was the brake to her gas, her kindred spirit, and together they had discovered another way to live at the other end of the world.
She watched him break into a jog to catch up with her and took a sharp intake of breath to compose herself. They were at the Sunset Bungalows now, close enough to see the rickety sign made from a pair of coconuts. Close enough to hear low jazz music coming from one of the huts. Close enough to see the shimmer of the bright blue swimming pool peeping from behind a gardenia bush.
‘Why do I get the feeling you’re about to hijack me?’ he mused, drawing up alongside her, so close that his forearm brushed against hers.
‘Come on, can’t you just see the sign over the door? The Giles-Miller Diving Resort,’ she said dramatically.
‘It won’t fit on the coconuts. Besides, it’s not very catchy.’
‘All right,’ she said, looking down at the sand. ‘What’s your favourite shell?’
‘The whelk.’
Rachel barked out a laugh. ‘We can’t have that!’
‘Why not?’
‘The Whelk Diving School? Not very glamorous. I was thinking something like The Pink Conch.’
‘The Pink Conch?’ laughed Liam. ‘Is this a diving school or a gay bar? Are you sure you’re not drunk?’
‘No,’ said Rachel, turning towards him. ‘Smell my breath.’
She took a step forward so that their faces were inches apart and the space around them seemed to contract until it was just the two of them standing together, breathing the same jasmine-scented air. And then, without thinking
They were walking along the beachfront, and in the distance Rachel could see the Sunset Bungalows.
‘Look, there they are, winking at us. Let’s go and look at them.’
‘What bit of “we can’t afford it” don’t you understand?’ he chuckled.
‘Just a peek,’ she said, taking his hand and tugging him along the sand.
‘A quick look. And then you’re going home, before you fall over.’
‘I’m not drunk,’ she laughed, feeling suddenly happy and heady.
She ran ahead of him, and then turned round to beckon him to go faster. He squinted in the soft sunset light and smiled at her, a long, slow killer half-smile that made her heart gallop. The same gallop she had felt the night they had first met. The night after she had arrived in Ko Tao, a little lonely, here for just a couple of days of diving before heading onwards to the next Paradise island. Liam had been the only other Westerner in a tiny back-street café, and when they’d both ordered the same fifty-baht curry, he’d leaned over and joked that they would both have dysentery by the morning. Not the most romantic first line, she had to admit, but when he was that good-looking, who cared.
Rachel had hoped they’d be sharing a bed the next morning rather than a case of food poisoning, but the night hadn’t panned out that way. Instead they had talked until dawn, about life and broken loves and the possibilities facing them both. Until that evening with Liam, Rachel hadn’t been sure what she wanted to do with her life, which direction to turn. But as the sun had risen over the bay like a cantaloupe melon, she knew she wanted to stay here and have a lifetime full of nights like this.
‘I’m going to stay and become a diving instructor,’ she’d announced.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ he’d said, raising his beer.
‘You want to join me?’
She remembered how fast her heart had been beating. A recognition that she didn’t just want to stay on Ko Tao, but that she wanted him to stay too.
‘Okay.’
And it was as simple as that. They had begun the business the next day, and she had suppressed any romantic thoughts about Liam with the same ruthless efficiency she applied to growing their diving school. For all the banter between them, the possibly imaginary undercurrent of something not entirely platonic, it was the easiest relationship of her life. They complemented each other. He was the brake to her gas, her kindred spirit, and together they had discovered another way to live at the other end of the world.
She watched him break into a jog to catch up with her and took a sharp intake of breath to compose herself. They were at the Sunset Bungalows now, close enough to see the rickety sign made from a pair of coconuts. Close enough to hear low jazz music coming from one of the huts. Close enough to see the shimmer of the bright blue swimming pool peeping from behind a gardenia bush.
‘Why do I get the feeling you’re about to hijack me?’ he mused, drawing up alongside her, so close that his forearm brushed against hers.
‘Come on, can’t you just see the sign over the door? The Giles-Miller Diving Resort,’ she said dramatically.
‘It won’t fit on the coconuts. Besides, it’s not very catchy.’
‘All right,’ she said, looking down at the sand. ‘What’s your favourite shell?’
‘The whelk.’
Rachel barked out a laugh. ‘We can’t have that!’
‘Why not?’
‘The Whelk Diving School? Not very glamorous. I was thinking something like The Pink Conch.’
‘The Pink Conch?’ laughed Liam. ‘Is this a diving school or a gay bar? Are you sure you’re not drunk?’
‘No,’ said Rachel, turning towards him. ‘Smell my breath.’
She took a step forward so that their faces were inches apart and the space around them seemed to contract until it was just the two of them standing together, breathing the same jasmine-scented air. And then, without thinking
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