Her husband was, of course, fine with her taking four days away without her. My boyfriend, Brad, on the other hand, took it as another sign I wasn’t committing properly to our relationship, even after three years together. The night before I left he made it quite clear how miserable he was with the whole thing. I’d talk to the others about it, but they’re all so consumed with their own worlds I’m not sure they’d even pretend to listen.
I don’t know why I’m still friends with any of them, to be honest. It’s a bit sad really, isn’t it, the four of us clinging on to each other since school? Most people I know have moved on, couldn’t imagine still being friends with their school mates. Even at university, when I went off to Warwick, I couldn’t manage to shake them. All three had stayed put, Annabel at Bristol University, Tanya at UWE, and Chloe in one of her short-lived apprenticeships before she discovered Photoshop. That was my chance to break away, but the truth was, making friends at university turned out to be harder than I thought. Sure, I made them, but come graduation they all disappeared off to London and lived their own lives, happy in bubbles that didn’t include me.
So I ended up drifting back to those three, and we’ve been stuck together ever since. Even after Tanya moved to London for her new job, she came back so often it felt like she was always here. I look in the mirror sometimes and see the beginnings of frown lines and wonder where the years have gone.
I’m so busy in my own thoughts it takes Tanya nudging me to realise everyone is distracted by something up ahead. I look up, and then I’m also transfixed at the woman coming towards us.
“That can’t be Poppy,” Chloe says, mouth left hanging open.
“That’s Poppy,” Robin says, oblivious to our shock, and none too confused that we don’t seem to be sure.
Poppy Greer was a fat awkward girl with braces and greasy mousy hair. She had a slight hunch in her shoulders when she walked, probably because she always faced the ground. There was an air of desperation about her that followed her like a bad smell, and on warm days there could be an odour of that too.
This isn’t Poppy Greer walking towards us, tall and lithe and smelling of cinnamon, her perfume so strong it drifts to us even though she stops about a metre away. She’s wearing flat sandals but still stands at least a head above us, even me, and an open knit halter dress barely hides her tanned athletic body in its bright orange bikini. It’s not just her appearance, even though that’s so different—she’s definitely plumped up her lips and changed her nose, her eyebrows shaped to frame her angular face—but the way she carries herself is like she’s a new person. Her shoulders are back, her chin is lifted, and there’s an ease about her, a calm yet strong presence that makes it clear she isn’t afraid to be standing in front of us anymore.
God, do we hug her? What’s the protocol here? Annabel seems to think about it, halfheartedly raising her arms before they turn into a stretch when Poppy doesn’t move.
Any other scenario and I’d be barrelling forward, wrapping whoever it was into an embrace whether they liked it or not, because I’m just that kind of person. But this isn’t any other scenario. It’s Poppy Greer. And not the Poppy Greer we knew either—a new, confident, attractive Poppy that sets my entire body on edge.
“Hello, everyone,” she says. Even her voice has changed. Before she always had this slight tremble, a giveaway of how nervous she was. Now it’s deep and controlled. “I’m so happy to see you all.”
It’s in her eyes that I still see the same old Poppy. The bright blue, her best feature, and now that she’s closer she still has the smattering of freckles from one cheek to the other, travelling across her new nose. Her hair is the same too, though rather than wet with grease she’s been in the sea, the mousy strands slicked back into a ponytail that hangs onto one shoulder.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Chloe says, to the point as always. “You look so different!”
Poppy laughs at that, a short tinkle that reads false to me. “I’m afraid so. Shall I take that as a compliment?”
“Definitely.” Chloe has no sense of tact. “You will have to give me the name of your personal trainer.”
“This is all my own effort, actually,” Poppy says.
Just as I’m wondering whether we’ll stand forever on this pier enduring Chloe’s rude comments about how much better Poppy looks, Robin takes charge.
“Let me take you on a tour around the island whilst I’m still here,” she says. “We can drop your bags off at the accommodation along the way.”
She leads the way up the trail, the rest of us following behind. We’ve broken off into natural pairs. Annabel with Robin, clearly enjoying pretending to be the bride for a few moments longer, Poppy and Chloe in the middle, Tanya and I bringing up the rear. Tanya raises her eyebrows at me as we walk, indicating her head towards the front.
“What do you think of Poppy?” she whispers. She rubs her nose with her fingers, seemingly unaware of her distracting gesture. Her lips are chapped, made more obvious by the glaring sun.
“Crazy,” I hiss back, trying not to get too much dust on my heels but realising it’s a futile effort. “She looks like an entirely different person.”
“Almost,” Tanya says. “I can still see her underneath it all. Do you really think she’s changed that much?” She seems in awe of her, hardly able to stop staring. I think her hands are even shaking.
“Haven’t made my mind up yet,” I say. And Tanya smiles.
We make our way through the path and it opens up onto the main lawn we saw in the brochure. A little gecko scurries past us in the grass and I hear Chloe shriek. As we reach the house there’s a wind turbine hidden behind, and the array of deck chairs and random bits of outdoor furniture make it seem more scattered than the brochure led us to believe. But the decking area is beautiful, the light hitting the stone floor and bouncing up again, a huge sun trap. There’s a large object hidden under some tarpaulin in the corner I’m convinced is a hot tub and I can’t wait to try it. The whole area is quite large, the palm tree leaves whispering in the breeze, and I can see Poppy has been sunbathing on the freshly cut grass because some towels are on the ground, held firm by pitchers of what looks like Pimm’s.
“So this is the main area, and that’s the central lodge there,” Robin says. She opens the front door and we all step inside, even Poppy, who must have had the tour this morning. The door opens into a deceptively big dining space, with orange tiles and white walls and a modern kitchen. “All the mod cons are in here, don’t worry. We have a wind turbine and solar panels for electricity. I also brought all of the food Poppy requested with me this morning, so the fridge is fully stocked. There’s a pantry as well and that’s full. You certainly are planning quite the party.”
Is there a wistful tone there? Has Robin ever stayed on the island?
“All the mod cons except Wi-Fi,” Chloe comments.
Robin doesn’t stop smiling, but it’s starting to look a little strained. “Unfortunately so.”
Past the living area are two bathrooms, each with full standing showers. Finally there’s a bedroom in the back, still with the same orange tile that runs through the whole house, the linen and curtains looking like something from the seventies. The double bed, king sized, is the statement feature of the room, otherwise quite bare besides the garish accessories. Right above the bed is a large painting, but before I can look at it properly Poppy starts talking and we all turn to her.
“I took this room, I hope you don’t mind,” she says.
“It’s the most modern accommodation,” Robin says. “Although the huts have en suites, the bathrooms are quite temperamental, shall I say.”
Temperamental? Chloe and Annabel exchange horrified looks, which makes me grin.
We continue on the tour, Robin taking us round to the huts at the back of the house, which are down a short path lined with trees and bushes. These open straight up into the bedrooms, more tastefully decorated with peach rugs and baby blue sheets, leading to tiny bathrooms with just a shower, toilet, and sink, the same colour as the greenery outside. It’s basic, but at least there’s proper running water and air conditioning. I was a bit worried we were going to end up looking like we’d been on a survival show. We each choose a hut, dumping our bags down on the beds, and Robin takes us to the beach.
“Oh my God,” Chloe squeals, hurrying onto the sand and getting her phone out to take pictures. “Someone take a photo of me with the sea in the background! This is insane!”