Bliss

thirteen

Paula's driving is worse than Mum's, and Mum's is pretty bad. But with Paula, it's like Fast and Furious gone wrong.

Still, somehow, someway, we arrive at the Marina in one piece. The car does shudder to a stop. I grip my seatbelt tight even when she tugs the key out of the ignition, and it's not until I feel solid ground again that I can push my mortality aside.

Paula threads her arm through mine as if she hadn't almost caused our untimely deaths and tugs me away from the car. I glance over my shoulder, confronting her dangerous driving head-on. The car is askew, parked across two spots rather than one. I should drag her back, tell her to try again, but it isn't going to fix anything. In fact, knowing Paula, trying again will only make matters worse.

It's a miracle she passed her driving test in the first place.

"Hurry up," she says, utterly oblivious to the carnage left behind us. "We're late."

"Late? I thought we were going for lunch."

That's what she said anyway. Promised a gorgeous Bifana and much-needed sister time. I want to pick her brain. In fact, if I'm honest, I need to. It's one thing for Spencer to call me with an impossible question and a complete other for me to call him with an answer. Yet, the latter glints every time I turn my mind to it.

"Look." She stops abruptly and takes my hands in hers. "I know what I said, but I lied."

"Lied?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we have a surprise for you."

"We?"

"Well, Mum and Dad and the Harris'. It's also not really for you, either, but for you and Isaac. Anyway, don't worry, all will be revealed in a moment."

Only I did worry. What happened to sister time?

There's a small boat waiting for us at the edge of the docks. A smiling man with a thick greying beard and kind hazel eyes welcomes us aboard. He offers me a hand. I grip onto it as I trip into the boat, almost tipping both him and me into the icy blue depths that lap against the sodden wooden decking.

"For you," he says, handing me a life jacket. Although I tighten it, he tugs at the ties until I feel suffocated.

"Better safe than sorry," I wheeze, fingering the straps nervously.

He only smiles and shouts at the dockworkers as he takes his seat at the helm of the boat. Actually, it's more a dinghy. A flurry of activity explodes around us, and a cooler is thrown on, landing between Paula and me before we jet off across the still waters.

"Is this the surprise?" I laugh as a mist of salty water arches over us.

"Not yet," she grins.

But then I see it. Or should I say him?

Isaac towers over us at the back of a yacht. His thin blue linen skirt billows around him. It's rather attractive, you know, if you're into the whole Leonardo Dicaprio, Kate Winslet fantasy.

Except it's not a fantasy. Not a movie I can pause or change when it gets awkward or boring. It's real life. So I can't switch the channel when Elle slinks over. She smiles sweetly as she places a hand on his shoulder. I squint, watching as his own smile wavers. But then it's not a smile; it's a laugh. A loud, taunting laugh that skips across the sea until they disappear and rings on in my mind even after the fact.

If this is the surprise, I'm not sure I want it.

The dinghy slows, and crew members appear on the yacht. We're helped up onto the deck and showed to the hull. Essie and Henry are cuddled up on a bench. It's nauseatingly sweet.