It is. It looks like something out of a postcard or a film, a long, luxurious white strip of sand parallel to hopelessly clear water, the tide pushing small waves in and out. Sun loungers line the area closest to the path, and further along there’s the gazebo from the brochure but also an added bar area that must be new, complete with various bottles of wondrous alcohol. The beach stretches quite far down too, at least a mile or so in one direction. Down the right-hand side leads back to the mountain. I’m pleased that I’ve brought my running trainers with me. This is the perfect new track to test out.
“There’s another smaller beach along the other side, but it takes some getting to through the trees,” Robin says. “I’d stick to this one. If you go along far enough, there’re rock pools, which are great for fishing.”
“I’m not sure we’ll be doing that,” Annabel says. “But this is amazing.”
Even Tanya, who looks like she’s been suffering from a bad cold ever since we all arrived at the airport, can’t help beaming at the view. She takes her shoes off and settles her feet into the sand, and we all start doing the same. The afternoon is starting to wane away, the slightest hints of pink and orange beginning to form in the sky, and there’s a heat to the sand that brings a wave of comfort over me.
“I’ve shown Poppy where the emergency phone is, but it’s next to the wind turbine for your reference,” Robin tells us, though only I seem to be listening now. “The flares are stored under the kitchen sink, and there’s a first aid kit in both of the bathrooms in the main lodge. Do you have any final questions?”
“You don’t want to stay for a drink?” Poppy asks.
“I wouldn’t intrude.” Robin shakes her head. “I’d better get going then, before it gets dark.”
“We’ll come see you off,” Poppy says. “Thank you for everything.”
“No problem. You’ve got everything you need?”
“Now I do.” Poppy nods at us when she says that, which shouldn’t make me frown but does.
“Let’s go, everyone,” Poppy says, and we end up trailing after her, feeling too polite to say anything.
Chloe mutters to us as we walk back along the path. “Since when is Poppy Greer telling us what to do?”
“She is the bride,” Annabel reminds her, and Chloe sticks out her tongue. “Not that our tour guide seems to be aware of that!”
“Are you going to tell her she got mixed up?” I ask.
“Nah.” Annabel chuckles. “What harm did it do? It was rather nice being the centre of attention.”
“We’ll have to ask Poppy about her fiancé,” Chloe whispers. “Once that Rachael is gone.”
“Robin,” I correct her. “Her name is Robin.”
“Whatever.” She shrugs.
Without us to worry about, Robin’s already in the boat by the time the four of us catch up, engine started and pulling away. Poppy stands close to the end of the pier, calling out a goodbye. We feel very detached from her right now, so I take a few steps forward and shout a farewell myself.
It’s going to be very strange without Robin, that’s for sure. With her gone, we’ll have to spend time with Poppy. And there’s no escape.
Although I think it’s almost as much of a task as it is just spending time with Annabel, Tanya, and Chloe. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten their irritable quirks, like Chloe’s brashness, Annabel’s remarks, and Tanya’s intensity.
Robin gives us a final wave as the boat starts to pick up speed. The five of us watch her go, until eventually she’s nothing more than a dot in the distance, heading back towards the mainland that now seems very far away.
“Well, then,” Poppy says. She’s holding a couple of bottles of champagne, one in each hand. “Shall we get this hen do started?”
“No time like the present,” Chloe says.
Robin has disappeared amidst the distraction; when I turn back to look at the ocean we’re entirely alone.
What are you thinking, Poppy?
How does it feel to be the bride at this hen party? To be the one in control of everything?
Maybe it’s liberating. You finally have the tiniest grip on some power.
Even just arriving on the island with everyone, I could sense the atmosphere changing, the subtlest of shifts, as we all took this into account. That for once you were the one leading, not following. All that guilt I’ve been feeling for what happened; with this I should be able to move on.
There’s something about this place. Endless possibilities.
I know deep in my heart that moving on isn’t one of them.
I came here for a reason. Not that the others have the faintest of ideas.
It’s time to settle the past once and for all.
One thing’s for sure: not everyone is going to be leaving this island alive.
Five
Annabel
May 18, 2023
“First thing’s first,” Poppy says. “I’m going to need all your phones.”
We’ve barely sat down with our champagne, all together on the decking area that overlooks the beach. It takes us a moment to even register what she’s saying before Chloe speaks for us all.
“What do you mean, you need our phones?”
Poppy smiles at her obvious discomfort. “It’s not like there’s great signal here anyway, but rule one of my hen party is I want there to be no technology. This is an island, and I want us to be completely in the moment. No texting, no calls, no distractions. And if you want to take pictures you can do it with this.” She brings out, to our astonishment, a small digital camera, last spotted back in the noughties.
“I don’t think you understand,” Chloe says. “My phone is my job. I need to take pictures of this holiday and upload them.”
“You can do that after.” Her smile holds steady. She was expecting this. She knew we weren’t going to give them up easily but she doesn’t care.
I check my phone, but there’s no signal anyway. Would it hurt to hand it over?
“Go on then,” I say. I pass mine to her, and this seems to do the trick. Tanya shrugs and hands hers over too after checking it’s switched off.
“I’ll keep them safe in my room,” Poppy says. “No one is going to be snooping, don’t worry. But as it’s my hen party, and I’m the bride, I think you owe it to me after bringing you all here on this luxury getaway to do this one small favour.”
Esther sighs. “I am meant to be taking time off work, not still checking my emails. So—whatever. Take it.”
With three phones in her possession now, Poppy raises an eyebrow at Chloe. “You’re not going to upset me before the hen party has even begun, are you, Chloe?”
Chloe shakes her head. “God, whatever, fine. Take it. I can always claim I was having a social media detox.”
“Perfect.” Underneath her chair, Poppy brings out a decorated wooden box. Once open, I can see a deep blue velvet lining, and she places our phones within, shutting it with a snap and even going so far as to lock it with a tiny key. Chloe opens her mouth to protest at this, but Esther grabs her arm to silence her. “No going back now. I’ll put this in my room and be back in a moment.”
“I don’t know about this,” Chloe mutters as we watch Poppy walk away, confidence in her stride and ponytail swishing back and forth. “Why does she have such a hang-up about technology?”
Far away, a bird calls out, then flies off, making the trees rustle. As the early evening sunset starts to settle on the ocean behind us, the wind picks up, so we’re grateful for the gentle heat of the climate.
“It feels right to not be relying on our phones here,” I say. Plus it will be nice not to keep checking for messages from Andrew and finding nothing. “Look at this place.”
“Annabel’s right,” Esther says. “It’s not a big deal. It’s four days. And I say this knowing I’ll have at least two hundred emails when I return. It’s quite freeing really. This could be a good thing.”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “You’re all mad. But whatever. I’m not going to be the one that causes drama.”
“That’ll be a nice change,” I quip, and the others laugh as Chloe’s gaze darkens.
It does feel naked not having my phone in my bag. My hand absentmindedly dips to search for it and flails for a second before I remember, taking out some lip gloss instead and reapplying so Chloe doesn’t realise triumphantly what I’ve done. Poppy returns to us across the decking, heels clacking against the wood, bringing with her another bottle of champagne and some wine.
“More drinks, ladies?” she asks, refilling our glasses. “Let’s toast to our reunion, shall we?”
I wonder how much everyone remembers about the last time we were all together. But I plaster a smile on my face and lift my glass.
“To our reunion,” I declare, and the others echo my sentiment and down their drinks. The champagne slides down my throat easily, sparkling and fruity.
“You must have a million questions,” Poppy says, pouring us all a glass of the white wine, topping it up almost to the rim. “But first I want to say again how happy I am that you’re all here.”
Chloe, blunt as ever, asks the question we’ve all been wondering. “Why have you invited us in the first place? And to be your bridesmaids?”
“You four are important to me.” Poppy takes a sip of her wine, and I think I can see her hands tremble slightly, betraying her air of certainty. “I know that the feeling is not mutual, but I can honestly say that you four have shaped the entire trajectory of my life. I would not be where I am today without you.”