On the first of April, Architect Carolyn Livingston was back on the island, but unlike her previous few visits she was not there in connection with the Spanish River renovations, she had other designs in mind.
On
her previous trip she got a nearside front puncture and came to rest on the
verge, and Howard Nelson came to her rescue and got her to her appointment, if
not on time, then close enough.
Meeting Howard had shaken her
a little when she saw him, because they were actually a thing, for about three
years, but they split up eight years
before, because she got a job on the mainland, and he had just taken over his
father’s Boat Yard in Spaniards Creek.
Not making it work had been
her biggest regret and saw the puncture
as providential.
She was on the verge of her
40th birthday and he was close behind.
So with the mindset that it
was maybe their last chance she walked into the office at Nelson’s Boat Yard
and invited him for coffee as a thank you for helping her out.
He declined, but only because
he was on the way out, so he asked for a raincheck for the next time she was on
the island.
Well she was back, and she
was going to redeem the raincheck.
Carolyn phoned Howard the day
before and suggested upgrading the coffee date to dinner and he agreed, so she
proposed meeting at the Beaumont Manor at 7.30pm.
Howard was as eager to see
her as she was to see him, so he arrived ten minutes early.
But by 7.45 when she hadn’t
appeared he texted her.
“Hi
Carolyn, I’m in reception”
Less
than a minute later she texted him back.
“Sorry,
I’m running late, come up and wait, I’m in room 223, I’ll leave the door on the
latch”
He
made his way upstairs and let himself in and he could hear movement in the
bathroom, and he closed the door loudly to let her know he had arrived.
“Is
that you Howard?” she called
“Why?
Who else are you expecting?”
“Don’t
be cheeky, go and take a seat, I’ll be out shortly”
“Ok
no problem” he replied
It
was about five minutes before she appeared, and when she stepped out of the
bathroom, he gasped.
Carolyn
was wearing matching black silk underwear, black
stockings, high heeled shoes and a filthy expression.
“Can
I assume that as you invited me to your room we are dining in?” he asked and
pushed himself up out of the armchair
“Something
like that” she replied as she walked slowly towards him, before pushing him
onto the bed.
They never did get dinner
that night, they had to make do with a room service sandwich and breakfast in
bed the next morning, they did manage to make it to the restaurant on Saturday
night.
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