Free Stranded by Emily Barr Page B

push the shutter and saunter through the window. I make a conscious effort to dismiss those thoughts. This is a safe place and there are plenty of cabins nearby, and people would hear me if I screamed.
    I love the feeling of the early morning. Everything is still and fresh. The air is warm, but cooler than it will be later. I walk down to the beach and stand on the sand and breathe. I close my eyes, and savour the warmth on my cheeks. The sea is pulling against the sand, making the most gentle lapping sound. It is completely different from the grey Channel at home, which, when it feels the urge, crashes against noisy, stony sand. This sand is so fine, so many millennia old, that the water barely whispers on it.
    My sarong is crumpled on the white sand. I am in the embrace of the warm sea. I swim out, feeling the occasional tiny nips of whatever it is in the water that bites or stings almost imperceptibly, until I am level with the jutting rocks at the side of the bay.
    Then I flip over on to my back and float at the mercy of the small waves, looking up at the sky.
    ‘Happy birthday,’ I whisper to myself. And I smile. It is going to be a very happy birthday indeed.

    There are a few people having breakfast in the café by the time I get there, and I wish them all a good morning. The German couple whose names I have forgotten return my greeting, while the man out of the bickering Australians grins at me, and Katy invites me to join her. The excitement is written all over her face.
    She leans towards me and stage-whispers: ‘Happy birthday!’
    ‘Thanks.’
    ‘Ready for the day out? Have you got everything you need?’
    I nod at the little bag by my feet. It is sagging emptily. This is because I cannot think of anything much that I will need at all.
    I see that Katy has the remains of scrambled eggs and fruit on her plate, and I order the same. Katy’s porcelain skin is tanned, and she looks relaxed and happy.
    The German couple, the woman with the lemon-print bikini and her partner with the springy hair, are standing with their bags on the beach. As I watch, a water-taxi pulls up and they walk into the shallow water and throw their bags into it. The woman, whose name I have never learned, is wearing a short sundress decorated with pictures of cherries. Her hair is tied back to reveal a long, curved neck. She turns and waves to us.
    ‘Have fun today!’ she yells.
    ‘We will!’ Katy calls back. She looks at me. ‘They wanted to come too, but they’ve got a plane to catch. Helga was really cross about it.’
    ‘Who else is coming, then?’ I ask.
    ‘Oh, I’m not sure. Edward, the Scottish guy – he was keen.’ Katy stands up. ‘Anyway, shall we find out? Have you got everything?’
    ‘Sunglasses,’ I say. ‘Sunscreen. Phone just in case Daisy sends me a birthday text. A bottle of water.’
    She nods. ‘That should do it. Travelling light.’

    We meet at the end of the beach, close to my hut. Samad looks up as Katy and I approach across the sand, and gives us a huge grin.
    ‘Katy!’ he says. ‘Esther! Thank you.’
    The others all turn to us, and I am slightly dismayed to see that both the shouty Australians and Mark and Cherry, the amorous Americans, are here; apart from them, there is just Edward, Katy and me. It never occurred to me that either couple would join in a trip like this.
    However, out of everyone on the beach, I would have chosen Edward and Katy to spend my birthday with. The others I will live with.
    ‘Hi!’ I say to everyone, and I make myself smile broadly around the group.
    ‘G’day,’ says the shouty Australian woman, though from her tone she might just as well have said ‘I don’t like you’. The others greet me in a more friendly way, and Katy grins and claps her hands.
    ‘Everyone – it’s Esther’s birthday!’ she announces, and they all smile and say the right thing. I look at her, annoyed, because she knew I wanted to keep it secret. There is nothing I can do now, so