The Day Of The Wave (34 page)

'It might have a happier one, now,' I say, nudging him and my heart fills up with love as I reach out and brush his hair from his eyes. The anchors. I don't know what comes next but I don't even care. I'm living my life in the now. 

'I almost forgot,' he says, getting to his knees on the cushions and digging his hand into his pocket. 

'Forgot what?' My minds flashes back to Colin pulling that ring out. He wouldn't, would he? 

Ben hands me a box. It's bigger than a ring box, I think. I look at him and he must register the trepidation on my face. 'Open it.'

Slowly, cautiously I do as he says. It makes me gasp. 

'I said I'd bring you one, didn't I?' He takes it from the box in his fingers. It's a starfish. Blue and covered in tiny gems, hanging from a silver chain. 'Sorry it's late,' he says a little sheepishly.

'I love it,' I laugh, watching him shift a tiny clasp on one side. 'Where did you get it?'

'Some crazy London market,' he winks. 'My mom helped me pick it out.' It pops open at the side and he hands it back to me. I hold it to the candle on the table, read aloud what's inscribed inside. The words cause a lump to form in my throat again:
To Isla. An island who rose above. And to Bizzy, who showed me how to love.

'What will I get you now?' I whisper eventually, searching his face, putting a palm to his cheek and kissing the space between his brows; then his nose, then his lips. This man has absolutely no idea how much he's changed my life.

'Well, I'd have said a hot cross bun, but I already had one,' he says, seriously, tracing his thumb softly along my lower lip. 

'There's more where that came from,' I flirt and he laughs, kissing my neck and helping me fasten my new chain.

'I meant I had a real one, from your deli. It tasted pretty good. Not as good as you, though.'

'You went to the deli?'

'Long story,' he grins. 'But really, all I need is all of you.'

'I think I can give you that,' I say, kissing him again as I let myself fall even further into him, body and soul.

Ben had all of me before the tsunami, when I was sixteen and love-struck and life was simple. Now that I'm twenty-seven and love-struck, somehow life seems just as simple. 

We lost more than we really knew how to deal with; both of us did. But I suppose life is full of tsunamis, in all shapes and sizes. As long as we can keep our heads above the water; as long as we can let the love in, keep it flowing, not let anything pull us down, I know for a fact that we'll survive. 

We'll do more than survive, in fact. We'll live.

THE END 

...ALMOST...

Find out what surprise is waiting for Isla and Ben back in London.
 To get your FREE BONUS CHAPTER, simply write a review of this book on Amazon and email the URL to 
[email protected]
 - it will be sent your way, pronto. 

Reviews really help us authors, so thanks, you lovely person! x

Read on for more of my romance novels and the bestselling Starstruck Series - three books about the battle to keep true love alive in the shallow world of fame and celebrity.

Let me guess. When you say the name Noah Lockton, you see him standing with one of a hundred guitars around his neck, glistening with sweat in the glare of the stage lights. You see him grinning, maybe on a pap shot, maybe snapped on a red carpet, smiling at you from the middle of a magazine. You see him in the spotlight; hot in more ways than one, right?

You see shouting headlines, hear the shrieks of infatuated fans, visualize the vacuous presenters buffing up his ego on all those TV channels and him batting away compliments like they're bees. You see bulbs flashing, neon flickering, videos playing on loop everywhere. They're in the gym, on the seatback screens of airplanes; in your Facebook sidebar when you're messaging your friends.

You hear his music, obviously. How could you not? It's everywhere. His voice is everywhere. You know the stats. Noah Lockton. Twenty-three. Five-foot-eleven, messy brown curls and steel-gray eyes. Pisces. You think you know him, this superstar, guitar-playing rock star. 

But there are some things you don't know about Noah Lockton.

You don't know how proud he was that time, to have made me a cake out of Lego, mud and toothpaste. How when he was eight, he sat up in the tree house for three whole days after Prairie died. I was freaking out that if the dog fell down from heaven no one else would be as close to the sky to catch him. Noah just didn't want anyone else to see him cry. So we sat up there together, neither of us saying a word. Just holding hands.

You don't know how crazy he made me, teaching me guitar till my fingers bled. How we perfected the art of burping the entire first Britney Spears single together after four cans of Diet Coke and convinced a radio station to put us on air.

You don't know how his arms felt wrapped around me when my world came crashing down; how I clung to the feeling of him inside me, filling me up; bringing me back to life again when all I could feel otherwise was numb.

You don't know how we avoid the subject now.

When we were kids, his dad said his eyes were so shiny in all my photos because of all the stars inside them.

Noah was always going to shine.

He was always going to be mine.

But sometimes even I forget the way things were before he was famous.

Get Before He Was Famous now
 

I watch Joshua pick up the spear again. The lion roars at me from his arm as he pulls the fish off the end and walks to the shore to wash them off. My eyes trace the lines of his shoulder muscles. I flashback to last night... and this morning. We couldn't get beyond PG-13 before the cameras arrived, circling the rocks in the water again like sharks. 

I wasn't exactly applying logic to my actions last night, though. Kissing him took me to another planet entirely. What if the entire U.S just saw me crushing this sand couch and now they're watching me standing here, acting like I have no clue what happened?

Journey glowers at me. Joshua doesn't turn around. Owning up would be the right thing to do in any regular situation, yes, but everyone knows the second a couple hook up on Deserted, the others turn against you. You're viewed as a threat. I need to think. I need to talk to him, but he's turned around now and he's still not looking at anyone. Maybe we shouldn't have stayed out so late, but the more we talk the more we have to say. We'd only been asleep a couple of hours before he was waking me up and taking me spearfishing.

Between dives this morning, Joshua told me about a guy he worked with once, out in Arizona, who lived in the desert because he was afraid of some watery abyss: 'You know, eighty per cent of all life on this planet is under the ocean,' he said, his flecked eyes boring into me under the sun. 'The world's biggest waterfall, the biggest mountain range...'

'Yup. And there's more historical stuff down there - more planes and boats and secrets than in all the museums in all the world,' I said, remembering my facts from school. 'We know more about space than the sea,' and he grinned. I could tell he was struggling not to kiss me and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kind of thrilling, being desired yet unattainable at the same time.

'True. But this guy was terrified, seriously terrified that some alien force is going to come out of the ocean someday. I helped him build a bunker, so he'd be safe.'

'I kind of want to meet this guy,' I told him.

'No you don't, he's crazy.'

'Why were you there?' I asked him.

'I had nowhere else to be,' he said.

I feel my pulse race again. Shan's right, Joshua's a dark horse for sure. For all he says to me now when we're alone, there's so much he's not saying in front of them and it's pissing people off. But there's something that's hurting him; I can't get it out of my head. Joshua told us how Mike was defensive 'cause of his fears, but I'm guessing at times he's exactly the same. Whatever made him speak up against Stephanie's beliefs stems from something he's struggling with alone.

I look on as he strokes the excess sand off the fish with his fingers carefully, stares out to the horizon. Maybe I'll never know what's haunting Joshua. What if he does get voted out next? The thought sends a bolt of dread through my core but I force my head back on straight, tear my eyes away from his body. I have to stay sharp. I'm not here for a guy. I'm here for a million dollars.

Get Before He Was Gone now 

The heat of Conor's hands on me as I grip my glass freezes me to the spot till he takes the drink from me, leads me back to the music room. He sits me on the couch, kneels down in front of me as I sink into the cushions. ‘You can talk to me,’ he says, putting the drink down on the floor and fixing me with a look that says I probably can. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Just play,’ I reply. His close proximity isn’t helping my heart rate. 

‘You sure?’ His big hand is on my knee over my dress and he looks concerned. He’s always so damn nice to me. I like him too much. 

‘Just play,’ I say again, firmer now. He stands up with a mock salute and sits back at the piano. I watch the muscles flex across his back as he straightens on the stool. I’m focussing on anything and everything but the piano, even though it’s right in front of me, bringing it all back. 

‘I had these lyrics, some of them at least, going round in my head since yesterday,’ he says. ‘I know we’ve only done up-tempo stuff till now, but I think we should add something a little slower to our set for the audition, you know? Maybe you can add to it.’

I nod my head and he starts to play, concentrate on his voice as it floats out and strangles my heart like it always does. Like I need that right now.

You count silver linings like they’re pennies in a jar

Store them up and dish ‘em out when times get hard

All your quotes of inspiration 

Read with faith as strong as steel

Oh if I could only tell you how I feel

‘Cause sometimes words can’t heal baby

Sometimes the sun don’t shine

But what if a storm's what we need, baby 

And we shouldn't try to hide

When the thunder and lightning 

Are striking again 

We could race for shelter, we could wish it away

Or we could be crazy 

And dance in the rain

Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain

I’m dancing with you

Let it rain

‘Wow,’ I breathe, scanning his eyes for a moment as he looks up from the keys. I don’t miss the references to my book, The Secret, if those words of inspiration are what he’s referring to. I can’t be sure but my cheeks are blazing hot. 

‘What’s it about?’ I say as he scans my face. I break the connection on purpose and pull my eyes away. He pats the stool next to him. I stand up, move to his side, but I don’t sit down. 

‘Whatever you want it to be about,’ he tells me. ‘It needs you. Another verse, harmonies, I’m thinking the bridge needs to be…’

‘Can we do it on the guitar?’

He pats the space next to him again. When I don’t move he cocks his head at me. ‘Why don’t you like the piano?’ 

‘I don’t… I used to love it,’ I say after a moment as panic spirals round my heart and throat, almost choking me. I'm ridiculous, I know it, but I can't breathe.

‘Sit down.’ Conor moves over more on the piano stool, reaches for my arm this time and I have no choice but to sit. ‘Piano, meet Stephanie. Stephanie, meet piano.’ He grins lopsidedly, playing a random tune in D major. ‘Piano likes you!’ 

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to control my heart palpitations as the memories of that day crash over me like a tsunami. ‘I just prefer the guitar,’ I stutter. 

Breathe. 

It’s just a stupid instrument.

‘Ah, but the piano is a different species,’ he carries on, almost in my ear. His whispers set my pulse racing harder. ‘You know, someone told me once that the white keys represent happiness, all the good stuff. The laughter, right?’ Conor runs his fingers quickly up and down the white keys, stops abruptly, looks to me. ‘And the black keys? They represent the sad times, the sorrow, the pain.’ He does the same on the black keys now, slowly, a different melancholy sound that makes me shudder involuntarily. ‘But you can’t forget,’ he says, bumping my shoulder gently, ‘they all mix up together to tell your story. You’re a little bit of everything at the end of the day. You’re a song.’

Get Before He Was A Secret now!

I was moved to write this book after a trip to Sri Lanka in late 2014 - it felt like everyone I spoke to there over the course of one month had a story about how the tsunami affected them, or someone they knew. Also, on my travels to Southeast Asia I met a couple of people who'd been involved in the tsunami on their holiday to Phi Phi in Thailand. I started wondering how it must have affected them over the years since it happened; how brave they were to even travel after something like that!

In order to start writing this book I watched pretty much every video about that day and the event itself, on YouTube. I watched every documentary I could find and read every article and survivor story to ensure I got my facts straight. It was my goal to write something as realistic as possible, to make the severity of the Boxing Day tsunami as clear as I could in a work of fiction and do justice to the survivors. 

I would like to pay tribute to everyone who lost their lives in the tsunami and everyone whose brave survival story inspired me in so many ways. The journey you've taken is truly incredible and if I've even come close to imagining what you went through it's a miracle. Thank you.

I'm Becky and my first published piece was a poem about a Christmas angel in the local newspaper, back in my English hometown when I was 10 (my dad submitted it and he was so proud - I was so embarrassed!)