DAY ONE
Dear Diary,
I, Lexie Douglas, am officially done with people.
Especially people who a) lead me into disastrous circumstances and b) laugh at me afterwards. And since that’s most of my so-called friends, I am taking steps to avoid any future people-induced disasters.
It’s taken all of my savings, my remaining annual leave, and some serious family rates discounts from my sister, but starting today, I have one full week alone in paradise. Seven full days on an island in the middle of a sparkling, azure sea, in a lovely, white villa with no neighbours in sight. Because other people are not a holiday.
I’m going to spend seven days relaxing, journaling about my deepest feelings, doing yoga on the beach and enjoying my own company.
Bliss.
DAY TWO
Turns out that my own company is kind of boring. And apparently being on a beach doesn’t instantly make me more flexible and better at yoga.
Am starting to worry this might be a bit of a mistake.
DAY THREE
Spent the day reminding myself what a real mistake looks like.
Exhibit A: That blind date with the actor that had just split up with his famously vicious and jealous girlfriend. (Cheesecake on my face is not a good look.)
Exhibit B: The ski trip that ended with me head first in a snowdrift after hitting a tree, and my ex-boyfriend posting a video of it on some ‘hilarious home videos’ website.
Exhibit Worst Of All: the possible-love-of-my-life who had turned out to be the love of someone else’s life. Someone who was wearingthe engagement ring I’d found in his sock drawer three weeks before.
Other people are definitely not a holiday.
DAY FOUR
Cracked and went looking for other people.
Turns out, there’s another, prettier, cove, just beyond mine. I found a nice spot up in the dunes and lay down for a little rest.
Then a football landed on my face.
I stared at it for a while, until this boy came running up after it. I tossed him the ball and he grinned.
“Thanks,” he said. Then he disappeared again.
Curious, I peered over the dunes… and saw the boy’s dad.
Suddenly, all my objections to other people disappeared.
This guy was beyond gorgeous. He and his son were just kicking the ball back to forth between themselves on the beach, having fun. I wanted to go down there and join in. Introduce myself. Talk awhile, maybe get invited up to their villa for a drink…
I sat down fast, and reminded myself of three important facts:
- I hate football.
- Children mean that there must be a mother somewhere
- Other people are not a holiday. However gorgeous they are.
I headed back to my villa. Alone.
DAY FIVE
He was probably married anyway. And if he wasn’t, that would be a warning sign, right? Maybe he has a terrible temper. Or his wife died tragically and that’s why they came here, to grieve. There’s always a drama somewhere.
Which is why I am absolutely not going back there today.
I went back.
I hadn’t really meant for them to see me. But then I tripped over a patch of beach grass and landed on the sand, because that’s just my life.
Mr Gorgeous reached out a hand to pull me up.
“Hi. I’m Deacon,” he said, as if I hadn’t just somersaulted to the ground in front of them. “And this is Ben. Welcome to our cove.”
“Lexie,” I replied, trying to surreptitiously brush the sand off my bum.
They invited me to join them for their picnic lunch, and I used the time to ask some important questions. Since I was already there and all.
“So, are you here alone?” I glanced over at Ben, who was munching on a sandwich. “Just the two of you, I mean.”
“Yep, just us.” He said it casually. Too casually?
I narrowed my eyes. “Ben’s Mum couldn’t come with you?”
“Is that your way of asking if I’m single?” Deacon asked, bluntly.
“Um…”
“Because, you know, I was trying to find a way to ask you the same thing. No Mr Lexie?”
“Oh! No. I’m kind of on a sabbatical from people in general.”
“That’s a shame. I was hoping you might join us for a barbeque tonight. Ben’s great company, but I wouldn’t mind some adult conversation too.”
Gorgeous, loves his son and wants to have dinner with me? There had to be a catch.
“So, what do you say?” Deacon asked. “Think you can brave people – well, us – long enough to have dinner?”
Maybe some other people could be acceptable on my solo holiday. Like a people mini-break. “I guess I can manage that.”
I made it all the way home before I realized. He never answered my question about Ben’s mum.
He hasto be married, right? Or have a tragic backstory, or violent criminal record. Or something worse I haven’t even thought of yet, like he’s secretly married to his car.
There’s always a drama somewhere.
DAY FIVE
Okay, so he’s not married to his car.
I showed up for the barbeque in my best sundress, and tried to act cool and relaxed. Which worked for about ten minutes before I blurted out, “So, are you married? To Ben’s mum, I mean. Or, you know, any inanimate objects?”
In fairness, he looked pretty unfazed as he turned the prawns.
“I was – to Ben’s mum, not anything else. We’ve been divorced about three years, and she’s remarried. Still good friends, though.”
“So you’re single?” Even if this was only a holiday flirtation, given my past experiences I wanted to be completely sure about that fact.
“Very single. It’s just Ben and me. And tonight, a beautiful girl in a sundress.”
I blushed, but continued my interrogation. Which is how I found out that he lives in London, not far from me, and has Ben every other week.
“You ask a lot of questions,” he observed, after we’d covered family, work, travel and personal habits.
“Just getting to know you,” I said, breezily.
He raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and I cracked. “Fine, I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”
“Wrong with me?”
“No guy has ever been interested in me without there being a catch – or at least some drama and chaos waiting to happen.” He looked doubtful. So I told him about the cheesecake, and the skiing, and the engagement ring in the drawer, and all the other times that just being me has led to some sort of disaster.
It took a while.
“Hmm,” he said.
“Hmm what?”
“Did you ever think that the only thing all those events have in common is you, Lexie? Now, what do you want with your prawns?”
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his words since.
See, this is why other people are not a holiday.
DAY SIX
I managed to avoid peopling until after lunch, when Deacon knocked on my door.
“We missed you down on the beach.”
“I didn’t want to drag you into all my chaos,” I replied.
He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed my sunhat.
On the beach, Ben raced ahead of us, hunting for shells.
“I offended you last night,” Deacon said. “I’m sorry.”
I sighed. “You’re not even going to let me get in a good sulk or argument, are you?”
Deacon shrugged. “Never saw the point.”
“You are infuriatingly calm.”
“So I’ve been told.”
We walked a bit more.
“I guess my point was… maybe you like the chaos. I mean, you’ve been searching for drama in my life ever since we met.”
“But there isn’t one,” I said, mournfully. “You’re not even married to your car.”
Deacon laughed. “See? You’re disappointed I’m so boring and normal.”
“But gorgeous,” I said, without thinking.
“Thank you.”
“It’s not that I want the disasters.”
“But?” Deacon prompted.
I sighed. “They do make life interesting.”
We spent the rest of the day together, playing in the waves with Ben, then having dinner under the stars at their villa, until it was time for me to go and pack.
I go home tomorrow. I made it a full week without any disasters.
And actually, it wasn’t totally boring.
DAY SEVEN
Deacon and Ben came to say goodbye. Ben gave me his second favourite seashell as a going away present.
“So, this is it,” I said.
Deacon shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be. You don’t haveto go back to lurching from disaster to disaster.”
“I know. But… what adventures are there when life’s just, well, fine?”
He smiled. “The best adventure of all. Happiness.”
Then he kissed me.
And honestly? Any life with kisses like that in it? Could never, ever get boring.
Maybe these other people can be more than a holiday.
Maybe they could be my future.
- Text Copyright © 2018 by Sophie Pembroke