Second honey moon
Returning to paradise, a couple are forced to remember what matters in this tale from thriller writer Lucy Clarke
PHOTOS:GETTY IMAGES.JAMES BOWDEN
Eve lay in the hammock, her book open. The wavering shadow of palm fronds provided little respite from the mid-afternoon heat. The air was heavy with humidity, scented by hibiscus. She reread the same paragraph for the fourth time, before snapping the book shut with a sigh.
It was a mistake, she realised, returning to Fiji. To this island. To this resort.
She and Luke had flown here 15 years earlier for their honeymoon. They were 25 then, setting off with just their backpacks and a dream. They’d spent the honeymoon snorkelling over shimmering reefs, drinking cocktails they couldn’t afford and slipping back early from dinner to make love. It should have heralded the start of a beautiful marriage.
Should have.
“Ready?” Luke was beside her, their snorkelling gear in hand. He was 40 now.
Still handsome, grey peppering the dark stubble at his jawline, the broad frame of his shoulders softening only a little.
“Yes,” she said, hooking her beach bag over her shoulder. Together, they wandered barefoot along the shoreline, the hem of her sundress lifting in the breeze.