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“No, no, I mean, yeah... I mean, yes I slept and yes it was very comfortable, thank you. I’m just tired. School’s been very busy and tough recently.”
“I see. Shall we discuss why you felt the need to ‘get away’ as you put it?”
“I’d prefer not to.”
“I see. Perhaps later then. Come, let’s enjoy this lovely spread that Dicky’s put on for us.”
“Dicky?”
“Yes, Richard, he’s a dear friend, and it’s his Island we’re staying on. I can’t wait to show it to you .”
“Okay. Where exactly are we?” I ask.
“The British Virgin Islands.”
“Oh.”
After that, we lapse into silence while we eat our afternoon tea. The food - though simple sandwiches, tiny little cakes and patisserie style deserts - is divine. I polish off every little morsel and feel surprisingly stuffed afterwards.
Cordelia has a member of the staff show me to my room - which turns out to be my own luxury hut right on the beachfront. That’s about the time I stop huffing about the extravagance of the island and start to appreciate it. Hell, a girl’s on holiday, I deserve a little ‘R ‘n R’.
I spend the week relaxing. Sure I study some, but I mostly relax on a sun lounger by the pool. There are a few really cute guys hanging around by the pool, but it just makes me realise how much I miss the princes. Despite vowing not to, I find myself thinking about them often. I’m not interested in anyone else. Occasionally I take myself off for walks on the beach or through the rainforest, but mostly I swim or read in the sun. I have a killer tan developing which I’m quite pleased about.
We’re about halfway through the holiday when Cordelia decides it’s time for us to have a chat. I’ve been dreading it since the moment I arrived, on tenterhooks waiting for the moment she’d demand to know what’s going on. At least after tonight I’d be able to relax a little. Maybe.
I dress up for dinner as I have every night since I arrived, and go to meet my grandmother at her ‘cottage’. I say cottage, it’s more like a mini-mansion squirrelled away on the grounds of the main house. It’s beautiful like everything I’ve seen on this island so far, but I much prefer my little beach shack.
My jaw hits the floor when I see my grandmother. She’s dressed to the nines. Beyond the nines in fact. She’s wearing an elegant white pantsuit with a turquoise silk camisole and matching heels, stunning chandelier earrings hang from her lobes, and a matching necklace adorns her neck.
“Wow! I feel seriously underdressed,” I complain when she air kisses me. “Is that an actual tiara in your hair?”
“Is it too much?” She tentatively touches the small diamond-studded band in her perfectly coiffed hair.
“That depends on who we’re having dinner with...is it the queen?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Cordelia scolds me before smirking. “She couldn’t afford to stay here.”
“Grandma!” I laugh, shaking my head. We’re lucky there’s no one around to hear. Poking fun at the queen definitely wouldn’t go down well at home in our royal loving society. “Seriously though, who are you all dressed up for?”
“No one. We’ve just been invited up to the main house for dinner tonight with Dicky. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him so I thought I’d make an effort. It’s too much, isn’t it?” she asks again, clearly worried.
“I dunno,” I shrug. “Didn’t Chanel say something about taking the last thing you put on, off?”
“Not quite darling, but close.” She sighs and looks at herself in the mirror. “What should I loose then? If I take the barrette out, I’ll have to redo the whole style again. I don’t have time for that.”
“Lose the earrings and the necklace. Here, wear mine.” I slip my simple silver knot studs off and pass them to her, then slip her my delicate silver chain with a Busy Lizzie flower on it. When she puts them on, she looks like my beautiful grandmother again; elegant and understated. Just, you know, with a diamond clip in her hair. Life’s about balance I guess.
“Let’s go. I don’t want to keep Dicky waiting.” I smile at the affection in her voice, and we head off to the main house. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to meeting this Richard guy. I want to know what he does for a living to afford a private island as insanely opulent as this one. I hope he’s not a drug lord. I’m keen to know what his intentions towards my grandma are too.
It doesn’t take long to get to the main house, which is a freaking mansion. No, what’s bigger than a mansion? I don’t know, but this is it. Cordelia’s cottage is surprisingly close to the main house. I think she wanted to talk to me about my situation at school on the walk over, but there wasn’t time. Now she couldn’t quiz me in front of her friend, could she? We cross through the beautifully sculpted gardens and up the stairs at the back of the house towards large glass French doors. Inside, a man dressed in a white linen suit with longish white hair stands with his back to us.
When he hears us enter, he turns around and - holy fucking shit balls! Dicky? Richard? Yeah, I know him. He’s a pretty famous entrepreneur and billionaire. And he’s looking at my grandma like the stars were hung in the sky just for her pleasure.
After introductions are made and I’m very quickly and clearly made to feel like a third wheel, we’re guided towards the informal, exclusive boutique dining room for dinner. A second surprise for the night awaits me when I enter the cosy decadent room. There’s a guy about my age sitting at the table already. He’s exceptionally well dressed for dinner, but that’s about where the positives end.
“Ah, Charlotte. Sorry, Raven. This is my grandson, Baxter. Baxter, this is Cordelia’s granddaughter, Raven.”
I cringe at the way he muddles my name up and sigh, knowing that it’s going to lead to awkward questions I don’t want to answer. I eye Richard’s grandson wearily.
