Passport to Happiness. Carrie Stone

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Название Passport to Happiness
Автор произведения Carrie Stone
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isbn 9780008123086



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for dinner.’ I lean in to hug her slim frame. ‘Tell Jack I said hello and give Harry a kiss from me.’

      ‘I will do.’

      Opening the door, I’m not surprised to see the beginning drizzle of rainfall. Pulling my cardigan tightly around me, I run to my car, thinking of all the things I still need to do when I get home – namely, unpack. I sigh at the mundaneness. So much for an exciting Friday night.

      By the time I get home my head is imploding with the to-do list of things that need to be addressed. School starts back up on Monday and even though I’ve got the entire weekend, I’m way behind. Panicked, I put the kettle on and decide a coffee is in order.

      My phone beeps and I’m suddenly reminded of the missed call from earlier. Retrieving it from my bag, I glance at the display and my stomach jumps into my throat. There’s a missed call and a voice message from an international number. It can only mean one thing. Quickly calling my voicemail, I place my mobile on loudspeaker, setting it down on the dining table.

      ‘Hello Ms Carter, this is Carolyn Smith from Bermuda International School. I’ve received your resume in response to the maternity vacancy we are looking to fill, and I’d be very interested to talk with you further regarding this. Please can you call me at your earliest opportunity.’

      Hands shaking, I glace at time on my screen – 7.30 p.m. – and calculate that it’s still only early afternoon in Bermuda. Without letting my nerves get the better of me, I decide it’s now or never. Pressing the call button, I hold my breath and cross my fingers.

      It only takes three rings before it’s answered.

      *

      ‘Why are you packing that?’ Cynical, Amy shakes her head and tuts.

      ‘Can you stop interfering in my clothes choices and instead take those bags out to the hall?’ I nod at the two holdalls that are blocking the doorway of Lily’s bedroom. AKA my temporary bedroom of late.

      ‘You’re going there to work though, not to go clubbing.’

      Sighing, I don’t rise to the bait. For the fiftieth time this morning, she seems to want to remind me that my new job in Bermuda is solely for work, no fun allowed. She’s wrong though. Tilly’s already got loads of events lined up. She’s even decked out the spare room for me. Still, I won’t be telling Amy that – it’ll only annoy her even more. She already thinks I’m insane, irresponsible and reckless to have accepted this job. It’s been made worse by the fact that I decided to rent out my flat, fully-furnished, on a yearly contract. It’s taken her the last two weeks to come to terms with the fact that I’m OK with someone else using my sofa, and no, I won’t be homeless if I come back early, because there’s always our parents to stay with, or even here until I sort something.

      ‘Are you really sure about this, Everly?’

      Trying not to roll my eyes, I finish packing the final pair of shoes into my suitcase. ‘Yep, I’m certain. And please can you quit asking me because even if I did have doubts – which I don’t by the way – it’s a bit late to be backing out now. I’ve already left my job, my flat, basically my life here and my flight is less than twelve hours away. It’s a done deal.’

      I still can’t get my head around the turn of events. I went from phoning Carolyn back, to being interviewed the very same evening via Skype and offered the job. Luckily for me, my skillset in my particular curriculum had been hard to find locally. And even more surprising, I’d been the only overseas applicant – owing to Tilly giving me the heads up before they’d officially had time to advertise. The salary and package had been an even bigger incentive than the picturesque photos I’d browsed of the school location. It was double and a half what I was earning, plus a relocation package and inclusive flights. There was absolutely no way I was going to say no. Even if this just turns out to be six months of a new life, surely that’s better than six months of same old? Besides, it’s my new mantra to be more of a yes to adventure person.

      Marching back into the room, Amy watches as I secure my case. ‘Are you going to eat dinner with us?’

      ‘Of course, unless you plan to turf me out early with an empty stomach?!’ Laughing, I stand up and take in her drawn, anxious expression. ‘Oh Aim, come here.’ Stepping towards her, I take her into a bear hug and stroke her back. ‘You need to stop mothering me, I’m going to be absolutely fine and Tilly will look after me.’ Releasing her, I notice the tears in her eyes.

      ‘I’m just going to miss you. I’ve gotten so used to you being nearby since you and Jay split.’ She looks at me shyly and takes a deep breath. ‘I guess, I just don’t want you to leave because then I’ve lost my best friend.’

      ‘I’m going to miss you too, you silly moo, but six months will pass so quickly.’ Lily bounds into the room and giggles at us both standing face to face holding hands.

      ‘Can I join in?’ She’s clutching a raggedy teddy and with her sweet little toothless grin, I feel my heart melt.

      ‘Of course, let’s all do a group hug,’ I say, smiling at Amy as we huddle together. It’s just moments later that we break off as the doorbell rings and they rush off to answer it, leaving me alone in the bedroom.

      Before I can help myself, I wipe a tear away from my eye. I am going to miss the children and Amy so much, despite the newness that lies ahead. If I’m honest with myself, they’ve been the ones that have filled the void of Jay since he left. They’ve been the support I needed and relied on. What if it is a mistake to leave?

      Dismissing the thought, I instead tell myself that the heavens must have a plan for me. Just like the song says…

      Because if it wasn’t for that awful date with Florian, for the impromptu, ill-thought out trip to Switzerland, for Frederick, even for Emir making me realise it’s not about finding love just yet, but about trying to discover more purpose and fulfilment – there wouldn’t be a new life waiting for me in Bermuda, would there?

      Everything is just the way it’s supposed to be and I’m going to trust that the new adventure I was hoping for, has begun. I pick up my case and half-drag, half-carry it to the hallway, my stomach fizzing with nerves and excitement.

      I notice my bikini on the radiator and quickly retrieve it and shove it into my holdall. Who’d have thought I’d end up working in a place where rich people holiday? Smiling to myself I make my way to kitchen, trying not to get carried away with thoughts of myself beaching and boating.

      It’s Everly dream come true…

      *

      I draw in a sharp breath. ‘Wow, it’s out of this world, absolutely stunning.’ But even that doesn’t feel quite enough to describe the view. Crystal clear turquoise water shimmers along the horizon in front of me, the sweet smell of sea and heat filling my nostrils. I’m unable to draw my eyes away, but I’m aware of my cardigan clinging to me and discreetly notice sweat patches already forming on my top. ‘Gosh, it’s so hot.’

      Tilly laughs and brushes a stray hair from her face. ‘It’s the humidity that gets us here. It’s intense. Hope you thought to bring light clothing.’

      We stop at a traffic light and I marvel at how tropical everything looks. Lush greenery and colourful plantation greet me everywhere I look. Houses with white pitched roofs painted in every pastel colour imaginable line the horizon at varying levels. It’s an assortment of colour and beauty, and I’m full of delight as the road leads us closer to the sea, it’s shimmering vivid, intense blue-green allure causing me to smile. ‘It’s so beautiful, I’m never going to want to leave.’

      ‘You will, give it a couple of months and you’ll have rock fever. You’ll be itching for fast-paced civilisation and better shopping like most ex-pats.’ She grins and turns back to the wheel. ‘I can’t actually believe you’re here, you know.’

      Laughing, I drink in the scenery as we pass a stately mansion and a group of businessmen