Island Love Ch. 02

Introduction

This is the second of three instalments, submitted to appear on consecutive days. Be sure to read part one first. In total there are over 30,000 words in what is an exploration of love, not sex. There is sex in the story but it's not described indulgently. If you want something short and full of sex stop reading now and find something else.

I appreciate feedback, positive or negative, from anyone who has read the story. It's okay not to like it or to find fault with the way I write. But I post it here only because some readers have bothered to express their appreciation for my previous work and have asked for more.

*****

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
(Kubla Khan, S.T. Coleridge)

Philip couldn't believe what had happened. He sat over his coffee for most of the hour and mouthed her name, trying the shape on his tongue. There was something about this good-time girl he must have missed. She was nice to look at - there was no mistaking the reason he'd noticed her in the first place - but there was a challenge in the way she spoke to him that was unsettling. He did his best to picture her, but all that was clear in his memory was her smile, as if she found him funny. Why had she agreed to come with him? Isabel didn't need him to climb the mountain - she'd done it before, alone.

He remembered Tibby and realised he needed to put her off. There was some satisfaction in playing her own game and sending a terse note: "Sorry to mess up your plans, but I'm not free for dinner after all. Climbing the mountain."

He asked the waitress to get the note to Tibby and bought a couple of small pizzas with thick tomato topping, olives and anchovies to take with him. Then he walked up the hill, suddenly anxious that he'd be late or that Isabel wouldn't come. After filling his water bottle at the chalet he walked to the far end of the resort and came to a chain link fence with razor wire spiralling along the top and a CCTV camera on one of the fence posts. Just like a prison. Was this really where Isabel wanted to meet? On an impulse he hoisted himself onto the post and smashed the camera lens with a stone. He had no idea why he did it.

He dropped to the ground as Isabel arrived wearing a big bush hat, shorts and boots. She gave him a very cool look but made no comment about what he'd done.

"Ready? I hope you have water. There's none on the mountain. Let's start because I don't get much time off and this is a treat."

"So how do we get out of this prison," asked Philip.

She walked along the fence and fiddled with a bolt on a gate wrapped with barbed wire which said 'no entry or exit'. "Okay let's go."

The gate was still held by a chain but opened a foot. They squeezed through the gap. Philip was impressed by this confident rule-breaking and looked at his companion with new interest.

"I never imagined you were such an anarchist. Are you trying to impress me?" he asked.

She seemed startled. "Why would I do that? Do you mean that I'm not the person you imagined me to be? The girl who spends her time in a bar."

"I saw a beautiful woman who looked refined and elegant."

"Poor me. Typecast already and I played netball for my country at two Olympic games. I bet you'd have never guessed that."

"I can see that you're very fit."

"And I was a model pupil at school. I excelled in everything I did - academic work and sports. I played hockey and lacrosse as well as netball and I was a good swimmer too."

"So how did it all go wrong?"

"Why do you think it went wrong?"

"Why? Because you're here in this prison resort doing who knows what awful things for a living."

She glanced back at him and was silent for a while, striding over boulders and dried up streams. "You think you have all the answers, whereas I know I don't. People pay big money to come here. It's a wonderful location. Tell me, aren't you enjoying yourself on the mountain without a care in the world and a wilderness to explore?"

"Yes, except for the very scary companion who's promised to show me the way."

"Loosen up. I'm having a good time even if you're not."

She walked ahead and he had to speed up.

"There are no gold medals for beating me up the mountain."

"Don't dawdle. Why waste time?"

Was Isabel testing him? He had to concentrate and work hard to keep up with her. She moved with the ease of a gazelle, whereas he was continually slipping on boulders and scratching his calves on ugly thorns. But in contrast to the torpor he'd felt on arrival at the resort, he was now energetic and felt fit to take on the world.

There was a farm track for half a mile, then a goat path, then thyme and oregano underfoot and thorn bushes scratching his arms as well as his calves. It was hot and they were both sweating and breathing hard from the steep ascent. A herd of goats ran off ahead of them, bells jangling. They turned to one another and laughed. Nothing needed to be said; it was unaffected pleasure in the moment. Soon they had a glimpse of the resort far below, the Rodwell an ugly blemish on the view. Behind, across half the world, was the azure Mediterranean.

They reached a gulley where the thorn grew thick among a tangle of myrtle and arbutus. It was difficult to tell which way was uphill and they followed what looked like a goat track. After a few yards it vanished and they were stopped by the thorns. They retreated, picking thorns out of their shirts, the heat oppressive. When they came to an outcrop of rock with a view of the sea, they sat down for a drink and wiped the sweat from their necks. Philip looked at the sweep of the mountain and the far horizon, bewitched by the warm evening and the girl close against him. He searched for something to say to break down the reserve between them.

"If I live till a hundred there'll never again be such a perfect evening." When she said nothing, he added, "You won't be missed at work? I had the impression the evening was your busy time."

She snorted scornfully. "Still think I'm longing for a cocktail with your friend Mimsy?"

"You work with Mimsy? Is your name really Isabel?"

Now she laughed aloud and looked away at the view. "You're full of questions but you don't want answers. You want me to be just as you imagine me. Snow White you called me. You think this is Disneyland and I'm a cartoon character here to fulfil your fantasies."

"I want to know who you are."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Well, tell me why you work at the resort."

"It's good money. You might call me a contractor. I work through the height of the season, enjoy the weather and the beautiful scenery and my child needs the money. Look! I've shocked you. Yes, I have a four-year-old daughter. And I miss her. She's with my parents and I can't wait to get back to her."

He was shocked but did his best to look composed. "It's just that I'd never have guessed. You don't look the type."

"What type is that? No, I'm not Snow White. I've disappointed you. And I know about you. Yes, I know Tibby. But I still chose to come walking with you." She was laughing at him, not at all put out by his confused and disapproving manner. "I'm sorry I don't fit the mould you'd imagined for me. I'm not the woman you thought I was."

"You're a determined woman."

"I have to be."

"And I'm lucky to have your company."

"Is that sarcasm?"

The slope steepened and was obstructed by boulders and loose scree. Soon they were using their hands to make progress. A few times he offered Isabel his hand to help her over a boulder, but she shrugged him aside. Mostly she was in the lead, choosing the path and setting the pace, which remained demanding.

Their conversation repeated in his head as Philip climbed. He was dissatisfied with what he'd said - sure that she thought him censorious and disapproving. Was he angry with her because she failed to fit his vision of unattainable perfection? No. He found her more interesting now than when he first met her. He admired her strong and resourceful way of dealing with the world. And despite her revelations she remained beautiful and mysterious. His anger was with himself for not knowing what he wanted. And he hated the idea of her working with Mimsy and others in the sleazy VIP hotel. He liked Mimsy and her way of earning a living hadn't bothered him at all. But with Isabel it was different.

There was no more vegetation. They now climbed in a wasteland of broken rock like the surface of the moon, an indistinct path marked by the odd heap of stones. A pair of choughs circled hopefully above a crumbling crag which plunged a thousand feet. The air was cooler but the summit was still out of sight. They were silent and concentrated on the climb. Philip was breathing hard but pleased with his fitness and relieved to find he could keep up with Isabel.

After a scramble up a stony defile they came to an easy slope and walked side by side.

"Can I ask you something about your job?"

She laughed happily. "Have you been brooding on my shameful life?"

"It's none of my business. In any case I like you."

"You do?" She found that amusing too. "You like what you see?"

"I do. And I like the way you climb and the way you don't let anything hold you back and the way you know how to enjoy yourself. Of course I wish you were at a loose end. Every man wants a beautiful woman for himself."

"I'm for me, but I suppose that was a compliment. How about a woman? Does she want a handsome man just for herself?"

She looked hard at him with a questioning look. He guessed she was thinking about Tibby. "You know I'm married."

She nodded. "And you're a handsome man. Shouldn't you be with Tibby?"

"Tibby left me. Has she told you the story? She found she was bored with her life, so she decided to make it better. I should think you approve of that."

"Perhaps. I'm not going to judge. Why did she invite you here if she's happy without you?"

"I don't know, but my marriage is finished."

"Have you told Tibby it's finished?"

"Not yet."

"I think you should get on with it if you've made up your mind. Tibby really believed that by inviting you here she'd put things right with you. She was so excited the day you arrived."

"I must have missed that bit."

"As long as you know what you want."

"Who knows what they want? I know I want something different."

The sun disappeared behind the mountain. Ten minutes later it reappeared as they stumbled forward below the summit, a red disk low in the west above a dark line of mountains. Why hadn't he told Tibby their marriage was over? Because he hadn't been sure. On the mountainside with Isabel beside him he was sure. He was brooding on this when they scaled a jumble of massive boulders and the horizon opened ahead. Both were breathing hard as they hauled themselves onto a stone slab that formed the summit. The world lay beneath them and for minutes they stood and stared.

"This is called the Table of the Gods. Theseus ate here. It's certainly a special place."

They looked round at the view. The sea filled half the horizon, with some land in the distance. Inland there were jumbled hills and the far side of the island where the airport and main town were hidden. Then they saw it at the same time, a deep line of black cloud driving across the sea.

"That weather's coming fast," said Philip. As he spoke there was a long clatter of thunder far out to sea and they shivered.

"We'd better get down."

A new, colder wind blew from the north and the sun vanished. They scrambled off the summit as the sky turned black. Then they were caught by ferocious rain, which instantly chilled their bare flesh. The rocks became slippery and they had to slow, finding it increasingly difficult to walk into the gusting wind.

"We must find shelter."

"There isn't any. Better get down lower while there's still some light."

"Keep a look out. Make sure we don't lose the path."

They clutched one another to steady themselves against the wind and got into a sheltered gully. After a difficult and bruising scramble they came to a steep drop and had to divert to one side. There was a crash of thunder overhead and it was darker still, the rain a solid screen of water driven by the wind. They had lost the path and splashed through puddles into some undergrowth. Suddenly it was too dark and dangerous to continue.

Philip pushed aside branches, looking out for thorns, and saw a sloping wall of rock ahead. It might give some shelter. Pushing through the undergrowth and looking closer, he saw a fissure which opened into a narrow cave.

"Come in here. We can get out of the rain."

"It'll be filthy with bats and other things," said Isabel. There was a blinding flash of lightning and a simultaneous crash of thunder which reverberated round the surrounding cliffs. She followed him quickly into the cave. At least they were out of the wind and the rain.

"This isn't bad," said Philip, looking round in another flash of lightning. He went outside and pulled up some bushes of thyme and brought them in to make a cushion. Both laughed when they sat down and smelt a burst of herbal perfume. He put an arm round her and pulled her tightly against him.

"To keep us warm."

She laughed and her arm went round him. She always seemed confident but he wondered if she wanted reassurance as well as warmth. They had both been frightened by the sudden storm and for the moment they were safe.

"How long will it last?"

"An hour. Who knows? But it'll be dark when it passes and we've lost the path. We'd better wait for dawn."

He brought in more foliage, shaking off the water, and made a sort of couch so that they could lie down. Then he produced the pizzas and they ate ravenously.

"You're a marvel. A provider for a girl in distress. Hold me tight. We must get warm," said Isabel.

She lay down and pulled him against her. Philip thought she was teasing him but melted with the pressure of her body against his, entranced by the feel of her cold, smooth flesh. She pressed tightly to him without shyness or coquetry and he folded his arms around her, feeling the beat of her heart and her breath on his face. He was surprised by how strong and supple she felt.

"Hold me tight. We need to give one another strength. No, don't ask what it means. It's means nothing. Just do it."

It was shocking because Philip never thought it might happen. They weren't making love, but he was holding Isabel tight, his weight pressed down on her pelvis and his arms gripping her round her chest, her breasts compressed against him. His damp clothes were stuck to his skin, twigs jabbed into his legs. There was no question that they'd make love if he wanted to. He couldn't see her face but he could hear her breathing and feel her fingers on his cheek. But she was calm; he was the wild one. He crushed her to him.

Eventually, the heat of their bodies dried them off and they felt a little warmer, but they still clung to one another. Philip had no reason to let go of Isabel and she seemed happy to be held. They settled and closed their eyes, but neither could sleep. It stopped raining and the thunder passed, but it was now so dark there was nothing to see except the slightest lightening at the entrance to the cave. They began to talk. Philip told her how Tibby had left him. Isabel listened, but didn't comment.

When he'd finished, she said, "Are you sure you don't want to make it up with her? She's attractive and popular. Many men would be proud to have her as their wife."

"I was once. Too much has happened to go back. She abandoned me and now I can only see the flaws in her character - the dishonourable way she deals with me, and no doubt others. I could never trust her again."

"Tibby's a fool," said Isabel. "She never learned that life has so much more to offer when you share."

"Who do you share with?"

"With my daughter."

"Tell me about your daughter. Does she go to school? Does she see her father?"

After a silence she said, "That part of my life has nothing to do with the resort."

"We're not in the resort and I'm nothing to do with it. What's your daughter's name?"

"She's called Beatrice. And yes, she sees her father. He loves his daughter because he sees himself reflected in her."

"You mean he's a narcissist."

"I mean he thought he was entitled to have affairs everywhere while telling me I was his true love. Eventually I became bored with his lying. And he has other daughters - and sons for all I know - who he doesn't see. It's the price of philandering for a man. I despise him."

"But you're the generous one and let him see your daughter."

"Beatrice is not my property. She's entitled to know her family, good and bad. She'll grow up to understand what her father is."

Philip had kept his feelings in control for so long he found himself trembling. The conversation upset him. Or perhaps it was the cold. He was tense and uncomfortable, too cold for desire - although just the thought provoked him. Isabel smelt of the sea as well as the oregano and he could just make out the silhouette of her jaw in the darkness. He reached out to follow its shape with his finger.

"Careful stranger."

"You're beautiful, you know that, and I can't help touching you."

"As long as you respect me."

"I do. I was wrong to judge you for what you did. But I wish you'd give up and come and live with me in my chalet."

"You'd take the food from my daughter's mouth?"

"I'd work for all of us."

"Noble and sentimental, but you don't know me. I don't want to be kept."

"I'd give stability and support. I wouldn't keep you. I'd show your daughter how men really are. If you were mine, I'd hold you tight like this and never let you go."

"You'd suffocate me."

But he was kissing her. She was right, he didn't know her, but he loved holding her and kissing her. In the dark and cold on the mountain it seemed more perfect than sex. After a bit she returned his kisses. Time stopped, the cave grew blacker and they were finally warm and dry. At some point they fell asleep.

Isabel woke at the first hint of light and prodded Philip. Reluctantly he let her go and rolled over, rubbing his stiff limbs.

"Stop dreaming. We have to make a move. I have to get back."

"Don't go back, he said on impulse. "Stay with me."

She laughed. "And live in a cave with nothing to eat but herbs? You're a hopeless romantic. Aren't you hungry?"

"Very."

"Coffee."

"Bacon and eggs. Toast. But what did last night mean? We should stay and work it out."

"We were babes in the storm. It meant nothing. When we get down the mountain we'll see that the world is the same dull place as before and that we scarcely know one another."

Outside there was a clear sky and a dull light. The sun was climbing fast from below the sea. Philip couldn't take his eyes off Isabel. She was pale and there was dust and bits of leaf sticking to her damp face and hair. Calves and arms were crossed with red scratches from the thorns. He put his arm round her.

"I've just remembered. It's my birthday today. What better way to celebrate? This makes me feel so lucky."

"Happy birthday pretty boy."

Concerned, he saw that she was crying. He asked what the matter was.

"It's nothing. Just for a moment I'm feeling sad. Here it's so beautiful, so free. Why can't all life be like this? The good times are just a moment and the rest is hard."

"Who's the romantic now? I'll remember this moment for the rest of my life."

"You'll forget like everyone else."

"You're the happy one, always finding something to smile about. I need you to be happy."

She laughed. "A woman's work is never done."