Chapter 1
Keshi
“I’m finally in Watamu,” I squealed into my phone as I followed the concierge, Kim, down the grass stone floor texture pavement bordering a line of hibiscus and bougainvillaea. After six hours on the train, another two and a half hours in a matatu, and a five-minute Auto rickshaw drive I couldn’t help being excited.
I’d always wanted to visit the Kenyan coast and take a break from my busy life, the ever-busy Nairobi city, and the unnerving traffic and there couldn’t be a more perfect time.
The morning ocean breeze summoned a slight movement of the leaves and caressed my chocolate skin. I allowed my lungs to expand and absorb the fresh salty air.
“I’m so jealous right now.” I sensed a pout on my cousin Koki’s face. “I can’t wait for the weekend to arrive so I can come join you.” My cousin was one of those people who would spend their lives on vacation if that were ever a thing.
I smirked. “Rest assured I’ll keep you updated on every detail.”
“Oh, I’ll be counting on it. After what Kevin did, I expect you to let go and have some fun.”
At the mention of his name, a knot began to form in my throat. I swallowed hard, attempting to push the urge to cry deep inside.
Kevin was my first love. He and I met during my freshman year at the University. After graduation, I thought he was going to propose. When he didn’t, I remained patient. We were still too young, we still hadn’t figured out our lives and had just started our careers, one of these days, he was going to pop that question.
I should have read the signs; I should have known it was over when he went radio silent for months. But I kept holding on to hope, believing he had a good reason for not answering my calls. He’d just moved to a different country after all. That’s until I saw his photos with his new fiancé, my best friend, ex-best friend, all over social media.
The next two days were spent on my cousin’s couch crying my eyes out, feeling stupid for worrying about him, cursing myself for not listening to Koki when she told me to open my eyes, wondering why I wasn’t enough for him, asking myself how Vicky could have done that to me and how long they had been together. That’s until I woke up on the third day with a newfound resolution.
Koki’s calm apologetic voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “I shouldn’t have brought him up, you shouldn’t be thinking of him on your vacation.”
“I’m not giving him the time of day,” I assured her.
“We’re here.” Kim’s voice prompted me to lift my head and take in the sight in front of me.
Surrounded by mangroves, palm trees and the endless sandy beach were cottages with white painted walls and palm leaves thatched roofing standing around a central lake-shaped swimming pool.
“Does it resemble the picture on the website?” Koki inquired.
“Even better,” I said breathily.
“I’ll let you settle in,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for those pics.”
We finished our chat and I paused to take a picture of the cottages. This was going to be on my Facebook page and WhatsApp status today, show Kevin and Vicky I wasn’t affected.
I followed Kim across the pavement on the side of the pool that was flanked by African-themed carvings and bonfire remains to the entrance of one of the small cottages. Placing my suitcase and duffle bag on the floor, he dug in the pockets of his blue cotton shirt uniform, pulled out a key, and opened the door.
I slowly stepped inside and my eyes wandered around the airy living room with high ceilings and large windows. Above the central ornate rug was mahogany furniture with white, red, and brown colour schemes. The white walls were decorated with African artwork and the room was brought to life by potted greenery that was strategically positioned.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I felt lightheaded. “This is… beautiful,” I said, for lack of a better word.
He smiled. “I’ll show you around the cottage then let you rest. The journey must have been tiring.” I had been exhausted a while ago, but my excitement now was enough to pump me up for a fifty-kilometre run.
By the time he was done showing me around the one-bedroom cottage with one bathroom and a kitchenette, I had fallen in love with the place. Everything gave me a sense of home away from home. This was all I could ask for, especially when it was going to be my home for the next ten days.
“The fridge is stocked with enough food for three days. In case you need more supplies, you can go to the local marketplace. You’ll find it on the map.” I nodded. He stretched his hand and dropped the key in my palm. I walked to where my luggage was and dug out a five hundred Kenyan shillings note from my purse to tip him. “Thank you,” he said. “Don’t hesitate to come find me or any other staff if you have any questions.”
“Okay.”
He took off for the door and then turned around like he forgot something. “One of our guests is having a birthday party at the resort tonight, every Blue Palm guest is invited. It starts at seven. Drinks and food are free.”
“I’ll be there.” A smile tugged on the corner of my mouth as I watched him walk away.
With a solid plan for the evening, I planned for the day. First, I would unpack, then try to get some sleep after the long trip before ending my afternoon with a walk along the beach. But before that...
I tapped my phone gallery, shared the photo I took and captioned: All I needed was a slight reset to jump-start the part of my life that craves to travel the world.
***
Darren
The blasting music yanked me from my sleep. Growling I pulled the comfy velvet pillow from under my head to cover my ear. I’d hoped to sleep longer than this, I’d spent eleven hours on planes from London and more hours waiting between flights.
After the season we just had, I needed peace and quiet. The Blue Marlin FC had been promoted to the Premier League and the pressure of playing against renowned teams had us busting our asses. We’d rounded off the season with sixty points which was a big win for us. My eleven goals and six assists stats made this season the most successful in my soccer career.
At twenty-six, I was a step closer to accomplishing my goals, promises I’d given that eleven-year-old orphan boy. Dreams that required me to ball hard in the coming Premier League. And a short break was what I needed to fuel me for what was to come.
The pillow didn’t help, my bed was vibrating to the rhythm. I tossed and turned, my irritation increasing with each passing second. Didn’t the hotel have a rule against loud music? And didn’t my neighbour know they weren’t the only ones staying at the cottages? I was so close to getting up and putting a stop to this morning’s disco when the song came to an end.
Finally. I let out a sigh when minutes passed and no other song followed. The tension left my face as I let my body relax, trying to call back the sleep that was slowly slipping away. I’d almost drifted back to sleep when another song blasted through the thin walls.
“That’s it.” I sat up and swung my legs off the queen-sized bed. I then walked across the room to pick a clean T-shirt from my barely unpacked suitcase. When I was finally decent, I made it for the door.
I paused halfway. With loud music like that, neighbour dearest would definitely not hear me knocking on the main door. So, I made a U-turn and headed for the glass door leading to the small backyard. I half expected to be hit with deafening music the moment I stepped outside. But it was fairly low despite the neighbour’s backyard door being open. Maybe I overreacted. I tended to be a bit cranky in the morning. Or maybe the walls were super thin and made the music feel like it was playing in my room.
I charged forward, across the veranda bordered with symmetrically planted flowers. As I drew closer, a distinctly female voice could be heard singing along to the song Dancing Queen by Abba. Pausing in front of the door, my eyes were drawn to the image in front of me.
The lady was carefreely dancing to the music. She didn’t possess well-coordinated feet but she didn’t care. She threw one hand in the air while the other one held a hair spray bottle that acted as a microphone.
She had the most amazing voice I’d ever had, the way she hit those high and low notes was unbelievable. I could listen to her sing all day and never tire. Sadly, her feet didn’t seem to share the talent. She was a terrible dancer.
A cracking sound came from somewhere and immediately the lady stopped dancing and glanced in my direction. Did I laugh? Oh God, I hope I didn’t laugh.
But the frown on her face confirmed it. “What are you doing there?” She walked towards me.
“I–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” And the stupid grin crept back on my lips.
She held the door and slammed it in my face.
“I–” She walked away, grabbed her phone, and left her bedroom before I could finish my statement. The small Sony Bluetooth speaker went silent as the other door slammed.
I’d gotten what I wanted but the guilt I had now wouldn’t allow me to get back to sleep.
***
Keshi
I was so pissed. I knew I had two left feet but that didn’t give anyone the right to laugh at me. My face contorted with rage and my breath uneven, I stomped down the stone pavement leading to the beach.
A sense of calm washed over me the moment I stepped on the white silver sand. The sultry mid-morning air wrapped around me, filling me with its sweet and salty essence and blowing the two loose braids back toward the road behind. I took off my sandals as I walked further along the beach. The sand was so cool underfoot, unlike the hot weather around.
The scenery almost had me forgetting that insensitive human. Docked boats of all shapes and sizes danced on top of the dazzling turquoise water. Along the beach, tall coconut palm and mangrove trees swayed to the oceanic breeze. I would give anything to have this view always.
I paused and took a short video of my surroundings and captioned it, the definition of breathtaking, before hitting send.
The cottages behind me, exquisite villas with coconut palm thatched roofs, jewellery gardens, and private pools came into view. If I had enough money planned for this vacation, I would have rented one of these.
I was enjoying the walk but the heat was becoming unbearable. I wished I’d switched my jeans and the skin-hugging sleeveless top for a loose summer dress. But this walk had been unplanned. I could use a swim right now but the tides were low and the water was so far away…
The pool. My insides jumped with excitement when I remembered it.
I’d barely made two steps back to the cottage when my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I brought the device to my face.
I can see you’re having fun.
My face lit up seeing my dad’s reply to my WhatsApp status. Noticing he was still online; I quickly worked the keys.
I am. Glad my boss let me leave three days early for my half-term break.
I remained glued to my phone as I waited for him to finish typing.
You are my most hardworking employee, I couldn’t say no.
My heart swelled at the compliment. I loved working for my father. Coming from a house with two teachers and two brothers who followed in our parents’ footsteps, I hadn’t seen myself being anything else other than that. And when my father retired to build his own school, I jumped at the chance to work for him.
Koki told your mother what happened. Is this why you wanted to get away?
I sucked in a breath as I brought myself to answer his question.
Yes.
I bit down a curse when the phone started ringing. I stared at it, deciding the best course of action. I didn’t want to talk about Kevin, I was already having a hard time getting him out of my head.
The phone rang again.
Taking a deep breath, I answered. “Dad, can we please have this conversation some other time?”
His deep voice came on the other end of the line. “Okay.” He paused then let out a loud sigh. “I’m here if you need someone to talk to, Wangechi.”
“I know.”
“Will you be okay?”
I nodded, even when I knew he couldn’t see me. That was the one thing I badly wanted. I wanted the ache to end, I wanted to get past the betrayal, past the urge to break my phone each time Kevin and Vicky’s photo popped up on my timeline.
“Your Mum says hi,” my dad said.
I beamed, pushing the thoughts to the back of my head. “Tell her I love you both.”
“We love you too.”
Ending the call, I tucked my phone into my trousers pocket and charged forward. When I got to the cottage, I rummaged through my luggage and pulled out my mesh panel one-piece navy blue swimsuit. With a white towel in my hand, I was ready to get in the water.
The moment the pool came into sight, I was reminded of the event that happened earlier. The guy was in the water, gliding effortlessly like he was a bird. It pissed me off that he was a good swimmer and even more that I didn’t want to go into the water because he was there.
He made it to the end of the pool where the steps were located. Grabbing the handrails, he emerged from the water in slow motion. I tried hard to look away but my eyes were glued on him. On his handsome face, on the water lapping on his skin, tracing every firm muscle of his chest and down to the powerful legs protruding from the black swim shorts. He looked like a model on the cover of a magazine. Or maybe it was because he looked awfully familiar.
When my eyes moved back to his face, I found his gaze on me. I quickly spun around and walked back to the cottage; my swimming idea traded for a cold shower.
