A Year of Chasing Love Page 12

  And whilst she was under the spotlight of self-analysis, she also had to accept that if Rachel hadn’t presented her with a neatly structured plan spanning the whole ten months of her career-break, with the next leg of her journey chasing love always in the not-too-distant future, then she might just have sunk into self-absorbed depression. Or maybe she was doing herself a disservice and would have used the time off to travel up to the Yorkshire Dales to scramble through the undergrowth of her life in search of her roots, ever hopeful of spotting fresh branches upon which to hang her shattered dreams.

  Eventually, almost twenty hours after leaving Heathrow, she set her foot on the solid ground of the marbled Arrivals Hall of Honolulu International Airport. Due to the long, tiring flight, as well as her involuntary disconnection from her old life, her body felt like it didn’t belong to her; her arms were weak, her ankles were swollen and her head was pounding – the latter probably caused by quaffing an entire bottle of champagne that the mischievous imp on her shoulder had not allowed her to refuse.

  Nevertheless, giving herself a pat on the back for travelling with only carry-on luggage, Olivia inhaled a deep breath, plastered a smile on her lips, and stepped through the glass doors to receive her traditional Hawaiian lei greeting from a slender, mahogany-haired young woman, with an orange hibiscus tucked behind her ear.

  ‘Aloha! Welcome to Hawaii, Olivia.’ The woman beamed, placing a garland of fragrant, lilac-flecked orchids interspersed with tiny pink shells around Olivia’s neck with a sigh of contentment. ‘I’m Alani Newalu, it’s great to meet you.’

  ‘Thank you, Alani, it’s great to meet you, too.’

  ‘I hope you like your lei – it’s a symbol of love and friendship; two things we have an abundance of here in Hawaii, and something I believe you have come to experience? How was your journey?’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘Yeah, I know it’s a trek from London. Believe me, I’ve done it so many times I never want to see the inside of a plane again. Oh, I really enjoyed studying in England, though. Of course, Professor Denton was my favourite lecturer, but that was three years ago and she’s still not come out for a visit!’

  ‘Oh, I—’

  ‘But now we have you! And I guarantee that you’ll love Hawaii so much that Professor Denton will not be able to resist my next invitation.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll—’

  ‘Right, just to let you know that I’ve taken a few days’ leave from my uncle’s legal practice so I can be at your disposal whilst you’re here. Come on, I’ll drive you to your hotel in Waikiki so you can get some rest, then tomorrow we’ll hit the beach!’

  Does this girl understand the rules of conversation? wondered Olivia, feeling as though her participation was superfluous. Still, she thought she would try again.

  ‘Oh, no, really, I’m here to research—’

  ‘You need to acclimatise to our islands. A long journey, jet lag, the time difference, your brain will be like wet sponge cake! You can’t possibly be expected to apply your full attention to intellectual pursuits under those conditions. I’ve tried everything and believe me only a day at the beach helps.’

  As they shot through the suburbs of the high-rise state capital in Alani’s luminous green Jeep, a kaleidoscope of emotions tumbled through Olivia’s body. The onslaught of the intense heat, coupled with the maniacal driving, produced a light-headedness that made her nauseous and she was grateful her contribution to the constant chatter was not required.

  When at last the beach paradise of Waikiki loomed, the melee of exhaustion, the cloying perfume of the lei scratching at her neck and chest, together with the hum of the Jeep’s engine and the rhythmic music on the stereo caused her head to loll to her shoulder despite the verdant tropical scenery beyond the dusty windscreen.

  ‘Tell me, Olivia, have you been to Hawaii before?’

  Sensing the pause in Alani’s monologue rather than hearing the question, Olivia dragged her drooping senses back to the surface of the treacle-filled pond she had been swimming in.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Have you visited the Hawaiian Islands before?’

  ‘No, no, I haven’t but it’s been at the top of my bucket list for years – which is probably one of the reasons I think Rachel selected this US state.’

  Olivia gasped, pushing herself into the back of her seat as a decrepit truck whizzed past as close to their little Jeep as primer and paint. She elected to keep talking rather than watch the road.

  ‘I recently met a couple who were married here in Waikiki – in a tiny chapel by the beach. Sarah and Graeme were so envious when I told them of my trip, but I have to admit that I seriously underestimated how far the islands are from the US mainland – the flight over from Los Angeles just about finished me off.’

  ‘Well, the Hawaiian Islands are the most isolated archipelago in the world. We also have the world’s most active volcano, Kilauea. It’s been erupting continuously since 1983.’ And then Alani was off again, delving back into her monologue of extolling her homeland’s many virtues. ‘And I have great news, Olivia!’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I absolutely adore the whole tourist trail gig so I intend to be your personal guide for as long as you are here on our beautiful island of Oahu. I love your choice of hotel, by the way – the Pink Palace is amazing! The hotel was one of the first hotels to be built on Waikiki, so it’s nearly one hundred years old! It has the best spot on the whole beach and a fabulous view of Diamond Head. I promise to let you settle in today, but in honour of your hotel’s most famous visitor, Duke Kahanamoku, tomorrow we’ll hit the water. Is that okay with you?’

  ‘Great,’ murmured Olivia vaguely as she battled the waves of exhaustion threatening to drown her.

  ‘Prof Denton has filled me in on her research project. I know you’re meeting up with Jacques Ferrer at some point to talk to him about it, but if you want my take on true eternal love,’ offered Alani, pausing to scrunch up her ski-slope nose, ‘it’s that there’s no such thing. What’s the point shackling yourself to one person? My cousin Mahina just got engaged and she’s organised a huge family celebration at my grandparents’ ranch to announce it to the world. And she’s the same age as me! Life is for surfing, dancing, drinking and, most of all, having fun with lots of guys. “Live wild and live free” is my motto. Then, only when you’re old and decrepit, should you grab the least offensive guy who’s still available and settle down to a life of mortgages and slippers. What’s the point of this project, anyway? Most marriages end in divorce, so why bother in the first place? Am I right?’

  Alani’s perpetual burble continued along the same vein and Olivia zoned out until the screech of tyres signalled their arrival at the hotel and she was catapulted back to the present. What she saw out of the window made her jaw drop.

  ‘Welcome to The Royal Hawaiian Hotel!’

  To Olivia, the iconic candy-pink hotel, crouched low in gardens filled with banyan trees and bougainvillea, was more akin to Barbie’s wedding cake than a luxury resort, but she loved its quirky architecture instantly. The building had been designed in the Moorish style, but over the years, it had become completely dwarfed by a crowd of modern, high-rise cousins. Rachel, who had suggested the hotel, had informed her that she would be following in the footsteps of the Rockefellers and royalty and now she was standing, staring up at its impressive façade, she could understand why. With a rush of renewed energy, she reached into the back seat, grabbed her holdall, then slammed the door, causing crumbles of rust to dribble to the ground.

  ‘Thanks for meeting me at the airport, Alani.’

  Alani leaned over to the passenger side to shout through the open window.

  ‘Pick you up at ten tomorrow. Hang loose!’ She wiggled her thumb and pinkie finger before shooting off.

  The tranquillity of the hotel’s lobby soothed Olivia’s prickling skin and raging turmoil. Overwhelmed by fatigue, she was grateful she had taken the decision to plunder her savings
instead of accepting the very generous offer of a bed at Alani’s parents’ ranch. She could still hear Alani’s dulcet tones swirling through her addled brain as she checked in and refused assistance with her sparse luggage.

  Dumping her bag on the super-king-sized sleigh bed, she drew back the doors to the balcony and descended into awe-filled silence. The tropical tableau spread before her was a beach lover’s paradise. All thought of grabbing a quick nap vanished at the sight of the glistening sapphire of the Pacific Ocean and the bleached whiteness of the sandy beach dotted with flamingo-pink umbrellas. Wooden loungers, shielded by rows of swaying palm fronds, surrounded the circular pool as the sun cast its golden rays over the whole idyllic scene.

  Of course, these essential elements of any vacation had been available at most of the hotels she had stayed at over the years, but the panorama before her sagging eyes was made unique by the spectacular beauty of the jutting Diamond Head mountain over to her left, coupled with the ducking and diving of the multicoloured gems that were surfers riding the world-famous Waikiki waves.

  However, despite the magnificence showcased by Mother Nature, hot tears smarted at Olivia’s eyes and her heart contracted painfully. This wasn’t how she had envisioned fulfilling the item at the top of her bucket list and the experience of a lifetime felt tainted by the absence of anyone to share it with – specifically Nathan.

  But then, wouldn’t everything she did from now on qualify for the same observation?

  That brutal realisation twisted a knife in her stomach and a surge of emotion breached her defences. She stepped away from the glorious view just in time as her knees crumbled beneath her, sending her crashing onto the huge super-king-sized bed for one, where she sobbed until she had no more tears left to shed.

  Everything that had happened to her was of her own making, everything. Even though it hurt, she forced herself to remember the evening when Nathan had arrived home carrying a pineapple in one hand and a coconut in the other, a grin stretching his cheeks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

  She’d laughed. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Guess!’

  ‘We’re having Piña Coladas?’

  ‘Where we’re going you can have as many Piña Coladas as you like, made from freshly harvested pineapple!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Nathan had then reached into the inside of his suit jacket and produced a glossy travel brochure, flicking it open at a page extolling the exotic beauty of the Hawaiian Islands. Just thinking of the look on his face when she hadn’t squealed with delight sent a firework of agony through Olivia’s veins.

  Why, oh why had she shaken her head, dousing his happiness with the ice-cold water of the work-commitments excuse? Surely she could have taken two weeks away from her desk to replenish the coffers of marital harmony? Visiting Hawaii had been her dream, not Nathan’s – his bucket list was topped by a return trip to Paris, his favourite city in the world. Her wonderful husband had done this for her and what had she done? She had thrown it back in his face – or that was how it looked with the benefit of hindsight.

  She had learned a salutary lesson: caring about her clients was important, but she had to care about those closest to her too, and included in that list, she was surprised to realise, was caring for herself. Nathan had known this; he had been trying to tell her in as many ways as he could think of until he had run out of ideas and all that was left was for him to move on.

  A sharp pang of regret threatened to overwhelm her in her exhausted state. She needed to talk to him; she needed to tell him that she got it now, that she understood what he had been trying to do, and why he had been trying to do it. She knew it was too late for them, and the lesson she had learned had been an extraordinarily high price to pay, but she needed to thank Nathan for sticking with her for so long, and to tell him she wished him well for the next chapter of his life, and that … and that she hoped he would find love again.

  Because if anyone understood the lessons in love she was collating, Nathan did.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Aloha, Olivia. Are you ready for a visit to Hawaiian Fire?’

  Standing next to Alani – petite, lithe, tanned, her dark hair twisted into a ponytail secured with a fresh crimson hibiscus blossom and dressed in trendy cut-off denim shorts and a scarlet string bikini top – Olivia felt like a geriatric giraffe. She wasn’t quite old enough, but she felt as though she could easily be mistaken for Alani’s mother in her faithful white Capri pants and Breton-striped T-shirt.

  Shoving her sartorial inadequacies to one side, she was excited about the promised tour of the island. Alani had been right: her brain did feel like a soggy sponge cake and she was grateful for her suggestion that they should do the tourist trail before she met with Jacques Ferrer, the eminent retired divorce attorney recommended by Alani for his in-depth knowledge in the field. Getting a feel for the islands would enhance her understanding of its inhabitants and the reasons behind the longevity of their unions – just drinking in the paradisiacal scenery spoke volumes.

  How could couples not be happy living here?

  Olivia hopped into Alani’s Jeep and quickly fastened her seatbelt, another action that made her feel like a feeble old grandmother, but she shoved her insecurities brusquely away – today was all about having fun!

  She assumed that the first place on their itinerary – Hawaiian Fire – was related to the fact that Oahu was one of a chain of ‘fiery’ islands that made up Hawaii. She hoped part of the tour would include a stop-off at Diamond Head, the volcanic crater she had gazed appreciatively at whilst devouring a plate of croissants and sliced mango on her balcony that morning – there was not a whiff of the swamplands and rice fields from whence the luxury resort had sprung over a hundred years ago.

  However, as they swerved through the busy Waikiki streets, teeming with tourists, honeymooners, street vendors and beach lovers clutching colourful surfboards, Olivia realised Alani was not pointing her Jeep in the direction of the mountain. Before she could enquire about their destination, they drew up at the eastern part of the beachfront where they were met by two of the hunkiest guys Olivia had ever had the pleasure of setting eyes on. Both stood over six feet tall in their flip-flops and knee-length Hawaiian surf shorts, their rippling six-packs displayed without inhibition or arrogance – and they smelled of coconut and sunshine!

  ‘Aloha, Alani! And you must be Olivia? Great to meet you,’ said the tousled-haired Adonis, offering Olivia his fist to bump.

  ‘Hi!’ she squeaked, sending a blast of warmth to her face.

  The surfer guy smirked, clearly used to the reactions of females, before running his baby-blue eyes over Olivia’s conservative attire.

  ‘Okay, Olivia, you can change over there.’

  ‘Change?’ Her voice sounded like she’d swallowed helium.

  ‘Sure. You weren’t thinking of surfing in pants, were you?’

  ‘Surfing? Oh, I don’t think we are here to …’ Olivia shot a nervous glance at Alani.

  Alani smiled. ‘It’ll be fun, Olivia. Have you never surfed before?’

  She had no need to verbalise her answer; she knew it was written in great big letters in the expression of horror scrawled across the width of her face.

  ‘No worries. Brett and Steve are not only surfing instructors, they are firefighters and qualified lifeguards, too, so you’ll be ultra-safe.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure I …’

  ‘Safety is our number one priority, Olivia,’ confirmed Brett, a dark-haired New Zealander with the physique of a rugby player. ‘There’ll be five instructors out there on the waves this morning and we have a class of eight students. Our instruction is clear and, for beginners like you, it will be one-to-one until you get the feel of the waves.’

  ‘Come on, Olivia,’ urged Steve, casting his eyes towards the swell of the ocean. ‘It’s going to be an exhilarating experience in the most beautiful location in the world. Who wouldn’t want to try out surfing on Waiki
ki Beach?’

  Olivia couldn’t argue with his taste in scenery – it was truly spectacular and the water was already sprinkled with a confetti of swimmers. But surfing?

  A twist of nerves coiled through her stomach and her heartbeat quickened, although that could be to do with the fact that Steve had slid his palm into hers and was leading her towards the stand where a plethora of coloured boards awaited selection. She was shocked to find a flare of physical desire shoot through her body and head southwards as she met his eyes, the thick curl of honey-coloured eyelashes adding a sweep of jealousy to the mix. Why did guys get such great lashes?

  Steve selected a long, wide surfboard made of lightweight fibreglass perfect for the gentler waves of Waikiki, pointing out the three fins on the underside, which enhanced stability.

  ‘This is the best type of board for beginners.’

  Olivia knew when she was beaten. She swapped her clothes for a navy and white one-piece she bought from the surf store, its varnished wooden shelves also crammed with the ubiquitous Hawaiian shirts emblazoned with tropical palms and red and yellow parrots and the wildest, most exuberant swimming shorts she had ever seen. The spirit of ‘Aloha’ was obviously commercial nirvana. She trotted back to the beach where the other surf novices were lined up in front of the instructors.

  ‘Start with your board on the sand like this.’

  Steve demonstrated the skill by lying flat on his stomach, imitating the action of paddling in the water with his arms and hands, then he strolled along the line correcting technique. Olivia never expected to be so grateful to her father for those weekly jaunts to the local swimming baths in Leeds as she was growing up. She had always moaned on the journey there but glowed on their way back home with a hot chocolate inside her and her hand clutching the next certificate of achievement.

  When Olivia had mastered the theory, she followed the other surfing students across the talcum-soft sand to the shallows of the turquoise ocean to practise her newly acquired paddling technique, and it wasn’t long before she moved on to whipping her legs up onto the board in a crouching position, whooping with delight at being able to ride the surf, if only for a few seconds. She knew the sea there was shallow, and that the waves were the equivalent of nursery ski slopes, but Olivia didn’t care. The thrill of being carried forward by the power of an immense curl of crystal-clear water fired her energy levels, and she remounted her orange-and-yellow board repeatedly to squeeze every ounce of enjoyment from the two-hour lesson, which came to an end before she knew it.