Grimacing, she met her gaze in the mirror and shook her head slightly. There was just no way they were going to be able to swim to the mainland. First, they had no idea what direction the mainland was. Secondly, there were sharks and other predators out there in the ocean, and she didn’t fancy playing Jonah in the belly of a whale. And then there was the distance. She hadn’t seen even a hint of land in any direction as they’d walked around the island. They could be ten miles from the mainland or a hundred. Neither of them had any idea.
No. Sarita just couldn’t see swimming for the mainland. But maybe they could build a raft or something. Turning off the taps, she dried her hands and then leaned against the counter to think. They might not be able to leave tonight if they went by raft, but at least there was a better chance of surviving.
How long would it take to build a raft? She pondered that now. Cut down some trees, tie them together using sheets maybe. Make some kind of shelter to keep Domitian out of the sun, and make some paddles or something so they didn’t end up getting pulled out to sea by currents.
That thought was alarming enough that Sarita pushed away from the counter and moved back into the bedroom. She glanced toward the bed, but all there was to see was the sheet wall Domitian had created. Leaving him to sleep, she slipped into the walk-in closet and grabbed another swimsuit to put on under her towel. Once she was as decently dressed as she was able in this place, Sarita headed for the office with its shelves of books.
When she didn’t know something, Sarita researched it. At home she would have been checking the internet, Googling “how to make a sturdy raft” and “how to navigate unknown waters by the stars” and “what you should take if you expect to be stranded on the ocean.” Unfortunately, there was no internet here. Hopefully the office had something useful on one of its many bookshelves.
It didn’t take Sarita long to see that the books in the office wouldn’t be much help. There were a couple of shelves of novels, but the rest were old scientific journals on genomes and DNA splicing and whatnot. If she’d wanted to create one of the poor creatures in the jars in the basement, she probably would have been all set, Sarita thought grimly. But there wasn’t a single book that looked like it could tell her how to navigate by the stars or build a raft.
She was turning away with frustration when her gaze landed on one of the novels on the shelf, an old classic, Robinson Crusoe. Figuring it was better than nothing and might have at least one or two useful bits of information, Sarita grabbed it, cursing when the book next to it tumbled off the shelf and fell to the floor.
Muttering under her breath, she bent to pick it up, reading the title as she straightened. It was The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien, Sarita saw, and there was a bit of paper sticking out at the top. Curious, Sarita opened the book and stared at the folded pages inside. It looked like a letter. Carrying everything to the desk, she set the books down, settled on the chair and opened the letter.
Dear Margaret,
Sorry this letter is so long in coming, but life has been a bit chaotic of late. And I apologize but this will be a short letter because it’s nearly bedtime and Ramsey will be home soon.
First the good news; Ramsey and I are expecting our first child! Oh, Maggie, I wish I could have told you this face-to-face. I know you’d be as happy for me as I am about it, and we’d be hopping up and down and squealing like schoolgirls.
I did try to convince Ramsey to bring me home for a visit so I could tell you this in person. Sadly, he says there is just no way we can make it back to England before the baby is born. As disappointed as I am, I know he’s right. There is so much to do!
I mentioned in my last letter that we were living in a charming little house on its own island, but that we were looking for a larger home nearby. We found several nice houses, but none of them seemed to have everything Ramsey needed, so he determined to build a new house instead, and bought a nearby empty island.
The new island is five times bigger than the little one we’re now living on and, as far as I can tell, Ramsey is having a house built that is also five times bigger. He’s building labs too, which is good if it means he won’t have to stay at the university so late working in the labs there.
Fortunately, the new island is only half an hour away in the little fishing boat Ramsey purchased to motor back and forth. Well, it is when he pilots it anyway. I’m afraid I don’t go as fast as he does and it takes forty or forty-five minutes if I’m alone. I prefer it when Ramsey takes me, but he’s so busy preparing his classes and overseeing his student’s labs that most of the decisions about the new house have fallen to me. That means that more often than not I have to make the trip myself to meet up with the contractor on the bigger island.
The big island isn’t visible from the little island except on the clearest of days and even then it’s nothing more than a shadow on the horizon, easily missed if you didn’t know it was there. You can’t imagine how nervous I was about piloting the boat my first time alone. I was sure I would miss the island and end up out in the middle of the ocean and out of gas. But Ramsey was so sweet and encouraging about it. He was sure I could do it, and did everything possible to make it easier for me. He marked the boat’s compass at a point just between the twenty and thirty degree points and said to keep the boat headed in that direction and I would reach the island fine. And he was right! I could and did do it, and was ever so proud of myself afterward. Mind you, I still prefer him at the helm, but needs must and in this case we need the house done and ready before the baby comes and if it were left to him that would never happen.
Speaking of that, Maggie, I don’t mean to complain, and I know he has to work, but I just didn’t realize how much time Ramsey’s work would take up. Most of the time I’m left alone out here on this little island with no one but our maid, Mrs. Reyes, to talk to and I’m afraid she doesn’t know much English. On top of that, she is only here during the day when I often am not. Ramsey pays a local fisherman to bring her out and take her back to the mainland every night and some days I see her only in passing as she arrives and I leave or vice versa. But the nights are lonely. Ramsey often doesn’t return from the mainland until bedtime and then he’s too exhausted to do more than grunt “goodnight.” It makes me long for home. I miss you so. I miss all my family and friends and I miss England. This isn’t nearly the exciting adventure I thought it would be when I agreed to marry him and move here. But I’m hoping everything will change once the house is done and the baby is here. Then he can work in his own lab and spend time with the baby and me. I’m sure things will improve then. In the meantime, I—
Sarita lowered the letter with a frown. It ended there, rather abruptly too, obviously midthought. She supposed Dressler had arrived home from the university then and Mrs. Dressler had probably shoved the unfinished letter in the book, intending to finish it later, but never getting back around to it.
Slipping the pages back into the book, Sarita closed it and tapped her fingers on the cover, her mind churning.
Domitian rolled over and reached for Sarita, but found only sheets. Frowning, he opened his eyes and peered around the cocooned bed. He was alone. Turning onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling, only to find it was himself he was looking at. The ceiling was mirrored.
Damn, he hadn’t known that was there, Domitian thought and examined his reflection. His short hair was spiked in spots, probably from Sarita pulling on it last night, but other than that there was nothing much to see. The scratches and hickies he was quite sure she’d given him were gone now, the nanos having erased every trace of what had happened in that bed last night, three times.
Well, unless you counted the mess the bed itself was in, he supposed. The duvet was gone, probably lying somewhere on the floor next to the bed, and the upper sheet was bunched up at the bottom of the bed. As for the lower sheet, it had come off on both upper corners and curled in toward his head and shoulders. That was all there was to see. Now if Sarita was there, he would have had a perfect morning view. He could kiss her awake and then if he laid on his side next to her, he could watch her face in the mirror as he caressed her body and gave her pleasure.
That idea was rather appealing, Domitian decided, sitting up. He’d take a shower, brush his teeth, run downstairs for a quick blood top-up, and then find Sarita and lure her back to bed.