This island has been in my dreams ever since I saw a deserted stretch of white sand & clear blue waters on the back of a ‘special K’ box - & now here I am!
What luck. Our last two weeks in South America, starting out in Uruguay & travelling north, right up to Guyana. Then, on ringing Louise, & thinking of sailing out & spending the day with her, as we were right on the coastline, she told us of her flight back the next day to France. We were most certainly not going to turn down the offer of her island, just east of the Guyanan coast, for these last two weeks.
Although Louise offered us her beautifully appointed house – chateau sur de Mer – we thought we’d rather something a little less formal, as butlers & maids dancing at your feet isn’t exactly our scene.
So here we are, much to Louis’s protests, in the modest little shack down by the shore. It’s far enough away from the high tide point, but still allowing the most amazing view, & however much of a cliché it may be, the sunset last night, was truly magnificent – I’ve never seen anything close to the dusky mixes of pinks, oranges & ambers.
This clay-ridge shanty could never be brought down to a level equal to that of our 1960 semi in Parsons Green. However much class or sophistication it lacked was wholly made up for, in the seraphic beauty of its surroundings - so unlike the murky vapour that clings to the air and abuses your lungs, in London.
My publisher would literally devote me to a ‘summer romance’ about this place & she’d lock me up until it was done – if I told her about it, that is. I think I’m going to keep this little place to myself & envisage the memories in my soul, for all of time… how about that for the ending phrase of a Romance blockbuster?
Oh, that reminds me, I must ring Maria before her mum gets here, & tell her when the award ceremony is. This ceremony is the one hindrance that’s obstructing me from staying in this paradise forever. But dancing is my passion, & I can quite picture the gold plated pirouette woman sitting on the mantelpiece, back home. This was only the second West-end dance that I’ve choreographed for, and believe you me, it’s a thrilling experience seeing your name celebrated, in some of the toughest critic’s reviews.
Maria’s only tagging along for the last few months of her gap year, “all for experience” she said, with me as her apparent ‘mentor’. Although it’s more like a younger sister, with her being sally’s daughter.
Oh yes, I can hear the speedboat coming in. That’s got to be Sally, at last. I hope she likes it!
