“This is Mr. Taito from the Board of Investments for Overseas Buyers. I have to say, your request is rather unusual.”
“Why? How is it unusual?”
“Well, normally a purchase inquiry is for land with more opportunity than the one you mentioned, larger, closer to other tourist islands. We are aware of your situation from the past few years and are willing to take that in to account. However, I must inform you we do not recommend—”
“That’s the one I want. Deal or no deal.”
“I see.” A short pause followed by a gruff, “As for your other terms. Am I correct in assuming you would pay for everything you mentioned? That you would expect the Fijian government to have no involvement or investment whatsoever? You also understand that if you were successful in your request that every infrastructure would be forfeit after the deal ended?”
My heart raced.
Will they go for it?
I couldn’t tell by his voice. He could be taunting me, preparing to tell me the ultimate crushing blow or he could deliver the best bloody news of my life.
“Yes, I understand. I was the one who made the clauses and conditions. I’ve given you the sweetest part of the deal. All I ask for is the land.”
“Give me another moment, Mr. Oak.”
Music replaced the conversation and I growled, resuming my pacing. A giggle sounded below as Estelle helped Coco over the wooden balustrade blocking off our apartment’s car park from the road to the beach.
Come on. Hurry the hell up.
The link crackled before Mr. Taito returned. “Although your request is highly unusual, I have some good news for you, Mr. Oak.”
I bit my lip as I air-punched the sky. Joy I never knew rushed through me. I’d finally grown up. Finally understood what I wanted in life, where I wanted to live, and who I wanted to share it with.
And now, I’d been given the permission to make it all come true.
Taking a deep breath, so I didn’t yell with happiness down the phone, I said calmly, “That’s great news. Thank you.”
Mr. Taito said, “We accept your proposed terms. $250,000 US for the right to reside on the island located at the coordinates you emailed last week. The agreement will include leasehold on the land for eighty years with the option to extend if it suits both parties at that time. The contract will be drawn up and will await your signature upon your arrival into Nadi.”
Mr Taito cleared his throat. “When will that be again?”
I smiled as the front door opened and Coco barrelled toward me. My little urchin. My island ragamuffin. My castaway princess.
She was going home.
We all were.
“We’ll be there on Friday at eleven a.m.”
Estelle raised her eyebrow as I stepped through the balcony door and scooped Coco into one arm. Her nose nuzzled my neck. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, Coconut.”
“Pleasant flight then, Mr. Oak. Look forward to confirming and welcoming you to our country officially.”
“Likewise, Mr. Taito. Thanks again.”
I hung up.
Estelle dropped the plastic bag full of seashells on the table, making her way to me. “Who was that?”
My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Just a man.”
“A man?”
“A man with a contract.”
“A contract?”
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to stop from blurting.
Estelle put her hands on her hips. It reminded me so much of her bossy caring attitude when we first crashed that I tripped deeper into love. “What contract?”
“A very important contract.” Grabbing her, I pulled her into my other arm. Coco squirmed, laughing as I blew raspberries on her throat and kissed Estelle with wet kisses. “A contract that’s possible all thanks to you.”
“To me?” Her eyes widened with suspicion. “What did you do, G?”
“I spent a quarter of a million dollars.”
“You what?”
“Of your money.”
“Our money. I willingly gave you the right to use it as you saw fit.”
“I’m so glad you trust me.” I kissed her again, radiating happiness.
She squirmed in my hold. “I trust you, but I might revoke that trust if you don’t start telling me what the hell is going on.”
I glanced at my daughter. “Want to tell her or shall I?”
Coco’s green-blue eyes popped wide as she bounced in my arms. “Tell me. Me. Secret. Me.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you and then you tell Mummy, got it?”
Coco nodded with utmost seriousness. “Uh-huh.”
Smiling at Estelle, I whispered low in Coco’s ear. “Tell her exactly what I tell you. Mummy...”
Coco paused then repeated. “Mummy...”
“You know the island where we crashed and thought we’d die?”
Coco repeated in her childish voice (minus a few stumbles and age-related discrepancies).
Once done, I whispered, “The island where we fell in love and learned what was truly important?”
That line she didn’t deliver too well. But Estelle laughed and nodded anyway, my message slowly filtering into comprehension. Her mouth parted, a feral hope igniting in her gaze.
“Well...” I murmured.
“Well...” Coco mimicked.
Brushing aside her blonde curls, I whispered, “I bought it. We’re going home.”
Coco froze. Her eyes popped and wisdom far older than her age shone through. “Home?”
I nodded. “Home.”
“Turtles and fishies and and and...”
Estelle clamped a hand over her mouth. “What—what do you mean?”
Pinching Coco, I ordered, “You didn’t tell Mummy the last part.”
Coco beamed. “Island. Home. Going home. Home!”
Estelle wobbled.
I caught her.
Just like all those years she caught me and cared for me. It was my turn. Once again, she’d made it possible for us to survive. Without the money, we would be forever homesick and lost. Now...we could do whatever we wanted.
All because of her.
“Ho—how? When?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand.”
“How—I called the Fijian government and explained that considering we’d lived in their country for almost four years, that technically makes us a citizen, or at least a sure bet to give a residency visa, if they felt so inclined. After all, our daughter is legally Fijian being born in their waters and all.”
“And they agreed to that?”
“It’s amazing what a promise of good PR will do.”
Estelle blinked. “Okay, so you managed to get approval to live there...how does that give you permission to just buy an island?”
“Technically, I haven’t bought it.”
“Then...”
“I’ve rented it for the next eighty years. They’ll retain ownership, but it will be in our name and no one else can touch it.”
Estelle shook harder with every breath. “You—you’re serious.”
“I’m deadly serious.”
“But what about...Madi and my singing and...Galloway, there aren’t any facilities on the island. We made do but Coco needs nutrition. She needs hygiene. We all do.”
The smugness inside me overflowed. “I’ve already thought of that.”
Her lips parted. “What?”
“I’m a builder. I intend to add to our bungalow with proper structure and shelter. I’ll import nails and rebar and iron for the roof. I’ll install rain tanks and septic systems and vegetable crops. Anything you want, we can build, create, or grow.”
“But what about life outside the island? What about family and friends? Medicine and hospitals? Schooling for Coco?”
I hugged her hard. “That’s the best part. They know where we are now. They can visit; live there for all I care. And the rest, we’ll have a boat. We’ll have access to whatever we need.”
“An
d Pippa?”
My soul hurt for a moment then rehealed. “She’ll know where to find us. It’s her island as much as it is ours. I’ve put their names on the contract, too.”
“Theirs?”
“Her and Conner.”
My heart smarted.
“You did?”
“I did.”
“Can you do that? Add a deceased person to the deed?”
I frowned. “Who knows. But that’s what I requested.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Are you happy?”
“Galloway, I’m...I’m ecstatic. I’m blown away. I can’t believe this is happening.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Wait, when is this happening?”
I smirked. “How attached are you to this place?”
“Not at all.”
“How long do you need to pack up?”
“Um, is that a trick question? An hour...tops.”
“In that case...”
“Tell me.” She laughed, clutching my hand. “Damn, you drag it out.”
“You’re so impatient.” I chuckled. “Three days, woman. We leave in three days.”
Chapter Eighty-Two
...............................................
E S T E L L E
......
Home is where the heart is.
Home is where the soul is found.
Home is where the good times laugh.
Home is where the hard times heal.
Home is home and there is no place I would rather be.
Lyrics for ‘Home’ Taken from the New Notepad of E.E.
...
ONCE WITHIN A song, a music lover and a broken man found the answer to life itself. They listened, they took note, and they lived happily ever after.
I looked for the messages.
I searched the face of the check-in staff as they handed us our documentation. I tensed going through airport security and flinched as I handed over my newly issued passport to board.
But nothing happened.
No strange occurrences.
No premonitions.
No warnings.
That had been before.
That had been when I was lost.
Before I knew what I needed.
I hadn’t listened to the messages...but then again, maybe I had?
Either way, they led me to the most perfect future I never knew I wanted, and now, we were claiming it without hesitating or wasting a life wondering what could’ve been.
Coco placed her hand on the portal window of the aircraft as the final passenger boarded, the door closed, and we taxied from Sydney airport to the runway.
My stomach tightened, unable to prevent previous memories of turbulence and terror.
This flight would not be easy for me.
But I would endure it because the destination was worth any price I had to pay.
I’d already paid.
Nothing bad would happen.
Please, don’t let anything bad happen.
I wasn’t beyond begging fate to be kind. And I was scared enough to barter for a safe journey.
Madi had been told in a rush of organisation that we were leaving, that she was always welcome, and the moment we’d arranged a satellite phone and internet to be installed on our island, we would stay in touch.
I would sign the offered contract. I would continue to deliver lyrics for pop stars and sing my own creations.
But I would do it from the privacy of our paradise.
She didn’t know if this was a mid-life crisis or a justifiable decision. Either way, all she could do was wave us off with a fond farewell.
As the aircraft engines screamed and we launched from earth to sky, I placed my head on Galloway’s shoulder and sighed.
I wasn’t afraid of crashing.
I wasn’t afraid of anything anymore.
This is right.
This was the only thing we could’ve done.
.............................
Landing in Fiji was unlike any landing I’d had before.
Unlike docking in Sydney after almost four years on a deserted island. Unlike landing on vacation full of happy possibilities and relaxation.
This landing was the landing of my heart and soul. My toes touched tarmac but my soul...it flew free, escaping into the Fijian humidity, rejoicing to finally be back where it belonged.
Galloway took my hand.
A government representative escorted us from the plane and through the terminal. Two airport services guys helped us wheel our four huge suitcases from baggage claim. This time, we’d come prepared. We had medicine, first-aid, shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, and a year’s supply of clothes.
We were really doing this.
But we would do it right without the hardship of last time.
“We have the helicopter standing by to take you, Mr. Oak.”
Galloway and I slammed to a halt.
Our voices threaded as one. “No helicopters.”
The guide froze. “Uh...okay.”
“We’ll go by sea.” Galloway strode forward. “Surely, someone with a ferry can take us.”
“It will be a few hours by boat.”
“Don’t care.” Galloway scowled. “A helicopter led us to our home. I don’t want another taking us to a different one.”
We shared a smile as the man rushed ahead to change the plans.
Coco tugged my hand. “Want helico—copter.”
I ducked to her level, brushing unruly curls from her eyes. “Believe me, Coconut, you don’t.”
.............................
The SUV stopped outside the open-air market where run-down buildings and faded shop fronts touted their wares.
We’d gone straight from the airport to the arranged meeting to sign the necessary documents for ownership. Sitting in air-conditioned luxury, we’d been officially welcomed, congratulated on our home, and transferred the funds in exchange for the deed on our island.
Our island.
We own it.
For the next eighty years, at least.
The driver turned to face us, his hand on the wheel. “How long would you like?”
Galloway opened the door, helping Coco and me out. The trailer behind us stored our many suitcases, soon to be filled with a lot more supplies.
“Give us an hour. We’ll be as fast as we can.”
The guide nodded as we shut the door and each took Coco’s hands. We strolled down the middle aisle where sellers sat on their knees offering sugar cane and freshwater mussels.
Occasionally, Galloway would stop and buy a bag of seeds and other long life materials. We slowly gathered things we would need: a large propane bottle, a pack of lighters, matches, mosquito nets, large water containers, and items too big and heavy to bring on the plane from Sydney.
We also bought a kettle, fan, and electrical items.
Just because we’d been without for so long didn’t mean I hadn’t appreciated having the convenience back in our apartment.
Coco’s face remained eager and inquisitive as we entered a hardware store with bare shelves and ancient items. This wasn’t a normal depot where regular supplies flew off the shelves. This was the island way of life, where old traditions still trumped new inventions and the need for bright shiny toys didn’t have the same allure as the western world.
Galloway strode up the aisle, collecting a few second-hand tools and several kilos worth of nails. “You have a generator for sale?”
The local man stopped playing a pinball app on his cell-phone, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Generator?”
“You know...one that makes power? Preferably retrofitted with solar panels rather than diesel.”
The man puffed smoke. “I think we have one.”
I drifted away, taking Coco outside so her innocent lungs weren’t corrupted by nicotine.
Galloway didn’t take long.
He returned from the store to pass me an armful of shopping bags before
disappearing back inside.
Struggling a little under the weight, he hugged an ancient dinged-up generator with a tatty cord. “This will do. At least, we can have light at night if we want it. I’m all for roughing it, but electricity now and again would be nice. Not to mention, it will make using power tools a lot more effective.”
“Always so practical.”
He grinned. “That’s why you married me.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “One of the many reasons.”
.............................
The first glimpse of our island appeared like a mirage.
A hidden utopia belonging entirely to us.
The slap of waves on the boat’s hull compounded my excitement. I would never have believed it if I’d been told I’d return of my own vocation. That I would trade everything I knew and choose a life where I’d struggled and feared but ultimately found so rewarding.
Coco untangled her fingers from mine, dashing to the side of the speedboat. High tide covered the outcropping of the reef, allowing the vessel to glide closer to the beach.
“Swim. Swim!” Coco jumped up and down, doing her best to reach the balustrade.
Galloway picked her up. “In a minute, little girl.”
I moved to his side.
I shook from nerves, homecoming, and the strangest sensation of doing exactly what I was born to do.
Our island.
We’d never seen it from this perspective before.
Never knew how small it was with the ocean lapping on all sides or how picturesque it was with soaring palm trees and gleaming golden sand.
And there...tucked in the shadows of the treeline was our house.
Tears sprang to my eyes as years’ worth of memories unfolded. Small layers at first, followed by sheets and sheets of laughter and tears, triumphants and trials.
We’d endured so much.
But we’d come back.
Galloway took my hand, squeezing tight, as we drifted closer.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” G whispered. “Can’t believe we’re about to go home without Pippa and Conner.”
The stain of sadness weaved with my giddy joy.
“I know. It doesn’t seem right. But Conner’s here. And Pippa will visit...eventually.”
I hope.
I couldn’t look away, drinking in every facet of shadows and sunshine. As pretty as the wilderness was, it wasn’t practical for docking. We had no pier, no ramp or trolley to haul our multiple belongings from the boat.