Chapter forty-three

We fall into line with what looks like the entirety of the ship's passengers, even after choosing to visit the island later than usual as per my instructions. There's not much to do other than avoid awkward eye-contact with those around us and peek over the heads of the ones in front of us to watch the line moving, but as I glance around, I can't help but notice how many people are carrying umbrellas. For some reason, Lilli catches my gaze and gives me an all-knowing smile. I stick my tongue out at her.

Rain. Big deal. This island is famous for its markets, and markets are bound to have a little shelter, so why should we be worried? Besides, if worst comes to worst, I'm sure they will sell umbrellas.

The line trails throughout Deck five, and continues down a staircase onto Deck four and then three. When we finally arrive, we pass through a quick security screening and ID check. And when the line bends the corner, Harry tenses behind me.

"Um… Tasmin, uh… Where's the island?" he asks, sincerely confused.

Harry really has no experience with this at all. But it is rather confusing when it's apparent that Harry's own father was constantly on business trips and never brought Harry with him. But I take a moment to force my expression into a serious one, failing multiple times before finally straightening my mouth.

"We have to swim there from here."

Harry's mouth falls open a little, and I can't help but laugh obnoxiously. It takes him five seconds to realise I'm just kidding with him.

"Real funny," he mutters.

"Okay, ha-ha," I say, still clutching my stomach. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it." When I finally stop laughing, I explain, "Okay, so I'm sure you've realised that this ship is huge, and there are still decks beneath us, as well as the bottom of the ship, so all that along with us would get beached if we were to dock too close to land, am I right?"

As soon as I explain this, Harry furiously nods at me, understanding. "That seems so obvious right now."

Later, I can't help but giggle to myself when Harry's eyes brighten up when the pilot boat appears by the hatch. I've seen one of these a million times, but Harry's not so familiar, so to match his reaction to one that I would've had about ten years ago, I really want to laugh.

Harry offers to let me step onto the boat first, but I insist that he goes first to choose seats for us, and I'm not surprised when he slumps down by an open window. I'm hit by nostalgia. On my first cruise I wanted to choose the seat by the open window, but my mum pulled me into her arms and told me that sitting there would be too dangerous. I almost say the same thing to Harry, and have to bite my lip to restrain myself.

The engine revs, and Harry has his eyes on the water the whole time, mesmerised by the speed that we're travelling at, and laughing wildly when the ocean sprays refreshing water at us. He leans so close to the window at one point that I have to tug on his arm to make sure he doesn't fall out. I have my gaze on him, and his smile. Against the pristine blue waters, Harry's usual green eyes are tinted with that same blue. Blue ringed with forest green, murky around the edges.

At one point, the wind from the speed we're travelling at is so strong that it throws Harry's brown hair over his eyebrows, casting a shadow on his face. Frustration fills me, and I subconsciously reach out to brush away the loose strands, only realising what I'm doing when Harry stares at me.

"I-I…" I mutter.

Again, I expect him to react in some sort of off-way, and I can even feel the tension radiating off the rest of the group, but to mine, as well as everyone else's surprise, Harry's open mouth spreads into a light smile so contagious that butterflies shoot up towards my heart.

Stepping off the pilot boat is like stepping into paradise, which Noumea has always been. The waters are clear, reflecting the cloudless blue umbrella overhead, and native birds trail over the horizon, cawing to the sky. Small waves cuddle soft sand, and upon the shores, children in beautifully-handcrafted grass skirts and shorts play, laughing as they're chased into deliria by the waves. Beyond the shores, further inland, bustling noises from a town and a market, and further up, a small and lush mountain. Here seems like such a small world, untouched by the filthy hands of urban societies back home, and I can't help but envy the peaceful lives of these people, where they can jump and touch the sky with their fingertips, carefree.

Stone paths fork off in different directions when we step off of the jetty, and we are greeted by the locals, friendly and waving and offering us tastes of the island's homegrown coconuts. I happily accept one, smiling gratefully at a lady, then waving softly to the small child hugging at her legs. I pass the coconut straight to Harry, and he is slightly taken aback, pressing it back towards me.

"You don't want any?" he asks.

"I –"

I'm interrupted by Lilli, who pushes between us to snap an aesthetic shot of everything. She mutters something that sounds like a sorry, and I laugh, shaking my head.

"You…?" Harry inquires.

"I actually don't like coconut," I say. "I tried it on my first cruise, and that night I was sick."

"Wow," Harry exclaims. "And I thought that you were practically a local."

I roll my eyes, cupping my hands over his, and push it towards his mouth.

"Shut up and drink," I say.