Eclipse. Lynne Pemberton
much to Serena’s annoyance; she was pleased when Caron disappeared into the kitchen to collect the dessert and Royole went to open more wine.
As soon as they were both out of earshot, Serena hissed: ‘You’re being very silly, Nicholas.’
She had admonished him as a schoolteacher would a child.
He fixed a comic grin on his face and retorted by sticking out his tongue. ‘I’m enjoying myself. I didn’t want to come here, and now I’m jolly pleased I did, I haven’t had this much fun in ages.’
‘You’re stoned, that’s why.’ She was angry and a little confused. This was not quite how she’d imagined the evening would develop.
‘Are you having a good time, my darling Serena?’
He slurred the ‘darling’, and she glared at him as Royole returned, carrying a freshly opened bottle of Chablis and a bottle of local cane rum. He was closely followed by Caron, bearing a tray of china dishes containing fresh mango and papaya soaked in rum and coconut juice.
‘Mmm, this mango is wonderful,’ enthused Serena, between mouthfuls of the succulent fruit.
‘The entire meal was a triumph,’ Nicholas announced. His eyes firmly fixed on Caron, he raised his glass in a toast. ‘My compliments to the chef.’
In response, a warm flush crept into Caron’s face, enhancing the lustrous, honey tones of her flawless skin.
Serena drank silently and looked across at Royole who, to her chagrin, was also looking at his beautiful girlfriend. She stood up and, excusing herself, went to the bathroom. Returning a few moments later, she found Nicholas and Caron curled up together in deep conversation, oblivious to anything but each other.
Serena joined Royole who was leaning over the side of the terrace, staring out to sea. She stood next to him, studying his profile.
The incessant whistling of the tree-frogs mingled with Royole’s words, and a scent of jasmine filled the air as he spoke of his surroundings. ‘Quite beautiful, don’t you think?’ he asked, as if he was speaking about his very own piece of heaven on earth. Without waiting for a reply, he went on ‘The West Indies is in my blood. I have this great love for the Caribbean and, of course, a dream.’
He turned to face her and she was just about to ask him about his dream when something in his expression made her decide to bite back her curiosity.
His next question came as a total surprise.
‘Would you like to go swimming, Lady Serena? The sea’s fantastic at this time of night.’
Glancing in her husband’s direction, she watched him light another joint; then, throwing back his head, Nicholas burst into private laughter.
‘I’d like that very much,’ Serena replied.
Before she could change her mind, Royole had ushered her out of the cottage, making no noise. An earlier shower had cleared most of the clouds and a fat, full moon now lit up the sky.
Holding her hand tightly, Royole picked his way down an overgrown pathway towards the sea. He was as surefooted as a mountain goat and knew the path backwards. Serena was fascinated by the sight of hundreds of fireflies, twinkling amongst the trees like a host of dancing candle-lights. She had never seen so many together at the same time.
At the foot of the hill they had to jump from a grassy ledge on to the beach. Royole went first, and then turned to hold out his hands for Serena, conscious of the ankle that she had injured a little over a week ago.
She landed awkwardly, but fell into the soft sand with no further mishap. Rolling over and laughing, she clambered to her feet and ran into the warm shallows, gasping as the salty sea-spray stung her face, and the wind whipped her long hair across her glowing cheeks.
‘I’m not sure this is such a good idea Royole,’ she called to him, ‘the sea looks very rough.’
He smiled and shouted above the waves, ‘Not where I’m going to take you. Come on.’
He led her by the hand to the end of the long white beach, not stopping until they reached a tightly packed rock formation covered in rambling seagrape bushes. Here, they had to turn sideways to slide through a narrow space between the rocks. Scrambling over a few slippery boulders they eventually emerged on to a crescent-shaped cove lying on the edge of a small circular lagoon.
‘It’s amazing,’ gasped Serena, staring at the completely calm surface of the water; so flat that it resembled a sheet of gleaming, black marble.
Undoing the buttons on the thin shoulder straps of her cotton dress, she let it fall in soft folds on to the sand. She then stepped out of it, and slipped her panties swiftly down her legs; hooking them with her big toe, she gave them a little flick. She aimed well and they landed where she had intended, on top of her dress.
She was aware of Royole’s probing gaze eating into her naked flesh, yet felt no embarrassment nor, strangely enough, arousal. Instead she felt like a child again; free and uninhibited.
Diving sleekly into the lagoon, her body cut neatly through the glassy surface of the water, sending out ripples in ever-growing circles. The water was very warm and came to just below her neck. She stood very still on the sandy ocean floor, watching Royole take off his cotton shirt and trousers. Unabashed, she stared at his body; he was so tall and perfectly proportioned. His skin, a golden mahogany colour, gleamed in the moonlight.
A moment later he was at her side, towering above her.
She ducked underwater and held her breath, before emerging to his laughter.
With sensitive fingers, he gently lifted her hair up and out of her face, smoothing it flat to her crown. His hand then caressed their way slowly down the length of her back, stopping at the base of her spine; lingering there, as if undecided, before spanning her tiny waist and pulling her body towards his own. He could feel her resistance.
‘Don’t you want me, Lady Serena?’ he asked, and seemed surprised. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you did.’
His voice, in soft enquiry, was neither passionate nor pressing.
‘Yes I do; but not here and not now,’ she replied firmly.
Pushing him gently away, she dived under his arms and with long, smooth strokes swam towards the lagoon’s one jagged rock that rose spectrally out of the water.
By the time she reached it, Royole was already there, lying in wait to catch her. As she swam past, he grabbed both her ankles and pulled her beneath the surface.
Kicking and spluttering, she managed to fight free and find her feet. She was still giggling when he burst from the water like a huge whale, letting out a loud roar.
‘Careful, you’ll wake the neighbours,’ she squealed, and splashed him with long sweeps of water before swimming back to the shore and running on to the beach, panting, and shaking with laughter.
‘That was wonderful,’ Serena told Royole, as she wriggled into her dress, struggling with the awkward straps.
Royole helped her with the buttons. His fingers longed to linger; to trace the pointed tips of her erect nipples, rising and falling under the gauzy fabric. Forcing himself to stifle his feelings of arousal, and holding her chin in the palm of one hand, he moved several wet strands of hair out of her face with the other.
‘You must call me soon, Lady Serena. I have to see you before you leave Port Antonio.’ He placed a fleeting kiss on her brow, as a father would a child.
She said nothing, not wanting to break the mood, and they both walked back in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
It was after midnight when they slipped quietly into the cottage.
Nicholas was sleeping like a baby, curled up on several cushions, in a cramped foetal position. And Caron had left a scrawled message on the messy dinner table, to inform Royole that she’d call him tomorrow.