Page 17 of Dead of Summer

FAITH

Let’s go to the beach,” Faith says, propping herself up on her hand and gazing over at David with the sultriest look she can muster.

It’s been a week since her trip to the Salty Crab and she’s nearly forgotten about the dead girl.

David has been himself this last week, only going off occasionally with his father.

Otherwise, they’d been relaxed, if a bit shut in, spending time by the pool together, and in the evenings drinking wine on the dock, their feet dangling over the waves.

Faith has become more comfortable thinking of herself as David’s fiancée.

She smiles when she imagines her life of ease and leisure, free from worry.

All she needs now is the ring on her finger.

“The beach?” he mumbles, looking into his phone. She gently lifts it from his hand. His eyes turn to her, questioning. She moves toward him on her hands and knees.

“The beach. We are on an island, aren’t we?” she teases him. “I hear the beaches are good here. Plus, I have this brand-new bikini I was hoping I could try out.”

He cracks ever so slightly when she says this, and she knows she has his attention finally.

“That is very tempting. I’ll need a visual. What does it look like?” How annoying that men are so predictable,, but it’s useful, she supposes, that they are easy to manipulate.

“Well, it’s red,” Faith starts. His hands are on her now, as she moves on top of him.

“Oh, how interesting.”

“And very, very small,” she continues. It’s working. His hands are around her hips now, pulling her toward him.

“I’d love a look at this very small bikini.

In fact, you should feel free to try it on right now.

” She forces herself to roll away. If she gives in too easily, she is afraid he’ll abandon her once more.

She pulls herself upright and winces theatrically like he’s about to miss out on an amazing opportunity.

“Oh no, I’m afraid that won’t be possible. See, I only wear my newest bikinis to the beach, so you’d have to take me somewhere if you wanted to see it.” David seems to consider this a moment, propping his head up with his hand to gauge her seriousness.

“Sure, yes, of course we’ll go,” he pronounces, pulling her back on top of him.

“Finally!” she squeals happily. David is smiling now, too, looking once again like the man she knows and loves.

Faith feels herself starting to relax as she straddles him, bending down until her hair hangs in a curtain over his face.

Her plan is going to work. He reaches his lips up to hers.

“Anything for you and your little bikini.”

When they step out onto the driveway, a vintage white Porsche convertible is already waiting for them. They get in and zip down the drive and out onto the main road that loops around the island.

The heaviness that’s been building inside her the last few days dissipates as soon as they leave through that giant gate at the end of the drive. Faith takes in big gulps of the ocean air, finally feeling like she can breathe.

The seagrass crimps in the wind as they fly past. The dunes give way to a view of the beach, the pale sand scattered with bright specks of towels and beach umbrellas.

This is what she was imagining when she agreed to come to Hadley Island.

This and, of course, him. She glances at David.

His mouth is pinched as he takes a corner.

She puts a hand on his arm, and he turns to her and smiles reassuringly.

It’s all okay , Faith tells herself. She’s spent so much of her life on high alert waiting for the other shoe to drop, but maybe she was overthinking things.

When they swerve to a stop on the side of the road, Faith steps out of the car into the sandy parking lot feeling like she is truly on holiday for the first time. David pulls two folded beach chairs and an umbrella from the tiny back seat.

He leads her to a break in the dunes, where a narrow boardwalk fringed with seagrass opens up to the sparkling ocean.

“What do you think?” he asks when they arrive at a wide crescent beach hemmed in on both sides by stony hills and thick greenery.

“It’s gorgeous.” Faith looks out at the clear water.

“Whitest sand on the island, and clearest water too. Let’s set up down there,” he says, pointing to a rocky outcropping at the far end of the beach.

She takes off her sandals as she follows him.

They pass groups of sun-kissed teens, mothers under umbrellas slathering sunscreen on young children.

Seagulls move in on bags of potato chips.

“We came here all the time growing up,” David says, with the first bit of joy she’s seen on his face since they’ve arrived.

“With your mom and dad?” Faith asks, surprised.

She has trouble imagining Geoffrey relaxing at the beach.

Faith knows little about David’s mother other than that she was a famous model when she met Geoffrey Clarke.

The tabloids she’d seen showed an astoundingly beautiful woman consumed by addiction problems.

David looks at her as though surprised by the suggestion.

“Dad was never much of a beach person.” He smirks at the idea of it. “I came here with friends mostly. How’s this?”

David stops, setting their things on a patch of soft sand.

“It’s perfect,” Faith says, happy to finally have him all to herself.

David begins to set up the umbrella and Faith looks down the beach to where a father and young girl build a sandcastle on the beach.

The scene is so sweet that Faith feels a pang of sadness that she never got to experience anything like it growing up.

How lucky that little girl is to grow up coming here, to know the kind of safety of family vacations, to want for nothing.

Faith realizes with a shock that soon enough this could be her family, her child.

She allows the questions about David and his father to recede to the back of her mind.

She longs for this life with an ache in her chest. Suddenly she wants nothing more than for David to propose, to seal the deal.

She glances back at him, and he meets her look with a genuine smile.

“Now what about introducing me to this bikini of yours?”

She winks at him and pulls off her cover-up, a short white linen dress that ties in the front. She’d pulled no punches when choosing the suit. It is small and extremely well cut, accentuating her long legs and toned stomach. David turns to watch, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“So, glad you took the day off?” she says, dropping the cover-up onto the towel.

“Extremely.” He grins as Faith digs a tube of sunscreen out of her straw bag.

She applies it liberally, rubbing it into her legs slowly, soaking in David’s attention, the first she’s had of it in what feels like forever.

The sun is already warm on her skin. The gentle lapping of waves and fine mist of salt water in the air soothe her.

Maybe now she can relax. Maybe she can just be happy to be here.

After all that she’s gone through, surely she deserves it.

“Hey, could you get my back?” she asks, holding out the tube.

When David doesn’t respond, Faith turns to find that his eyes are no longer on her.

She follows his gaze to the shoreline, where a woman stands ankle-deep in the waves, the weight on one leg pushing out her round hip.

Her hair, the kind of thick, luxurious strawberry-colored silk Faith couldn’t even dream of, is knotted on top of her head.

And she is staring at David in a way that makes Faith suck in her breath.

The way David is looking back at her with undisguised fascination gives Faith a sharp twist of envy in her chest. The girl glances back at David casually at first and then does a double take, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

Faith watches with dread as something intimate and unknowable passes between them.

“Who’s that woman?” Faith whispers.

“What woman?” His voice is light and measured, but the levity is gone from his face. His hand grips the wooden edge of the beach chair.

“The one with the red hair,” she pushes, as though it isn’t obvious who she is talking about.

She nods toward the woman who is making her way across the beach to them, a broad smile on her face.

David makes too much of a show of trying to think about who she is talking about.

“Oh, Orla ? She’s just someone I knew back when we were kids.

” He says it like he might have forgotten about her until right now. But it is obvious that isn’t true.

“A girlfriend?” Faith feels strangely jealous.

“No! God no,” he assures her, though his face is dark and inscrutable. “Just a girl I knew when we were both very young. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

The woman’s presence has done something to David. His shoulders are tense, like he is doing everything he can not to leap off his towel and go to her.

“Oh, why not?” Faith presses. Her voice must have grown impatient because David’s head finally snaps toward her, freed from whatever spell he’s been under. Orla’s hair catches in the wind, a billowing flame-colored curtain, as she approaches.

“Well, whoever she is, it looks like she’s coming over here.”