Harry was on the beach before Ruth.
As she reached their now usual spot, there he was, sat feet up, book perched before him, wearing his sunglasses and a burgundy pair of shorts.
"Morning Ruth," he said brightly, "thought I'd go topless this morning."
She tried not to smile, but failed. She decided to say nothing to him but sat on her sunbed and got out her book. Then she put it down again and slipped off her long sun top revealing a blue bikini which Harry had not seen before. This morning he did see it from behind his sunglasses, he gave it his undivided attention.
As she settled back down, still not having spoken to him, he simply said,
"Sleep well?"
"Yes, thanks," she lied, she'd slept fitfully. She had only thought of him.
"And You?"
"Very well," he lied. He would be surprised if he'd slept more than a couple of hours. He should have kissed her. He should have said something.
Ruth reached for the suntan lotion and began to lash it on. She hoped he might get bored a little later and go for a walk, or something, letting her sneakily slip in a half hour of topless tan topping up. In the meantime though she began to rub in the lotion. She started at her feet and worked her way up. As she was doing her stomach and hips it began to dawn on her that Harry hadn't turned a page for a very long time. He had his sunglasses on and she couldn't see his eyes but she felt certain that they were on her and not Jane Eyre. She couldn't help herself. Her hands moved more slowly now, she was no longer lashing it on but rubbing, sensuously and slowly, working her way under her bikini strings and down and around her cleavage. Harry's mouth was slightly ajar. He turned over suddenly onto his front. Ruth smiled.
"I would never really thought of you as a beach type person, Harry."
"No. I'm not. Though I'm beginning to see it's appeal," his attention however was now firmly fixed upon his book.
"And what's Mr Rochester got to say for himself this morning?" she asked.
Harry smiled. He wasn't on that precise page but he had read it last night. He didn't need to look at the page to know the words but he did anyway, "It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And…I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly."
He looked at her and added, "Chapter 23."
Ruth felt as though she could listen to Harry reading to her for the rest of her life. She felt that he had chosen his quotation well. She felt that same string tugging at her now.
He waited for her response.
She didn't give one.
She was too moved.
Eventually she managed to say one thing.
"Have you got some cream on your back?"
"No. But it'll be fine for a minute," he said. Another blatant lie, he had practically dislocated his shoulder earlier trying to cover his back. Ruth didn't need to know that, however.
"Oh, men," muttered Ruth, "you all think you're untouchable," and she continued to chunter as he heard her recovering the lotion from her bag.
"Utch up," she said, almost aggressively.
Harry slid over as much as he could.
"Ah, that's cold," he protested as she squirted suncream all over his back.
"Shush, " she said, "I need to concentrate."
"Concentrate on what?"
"On this," and with that her hands began to manipulate both the lotion and his back. This wasn't just application of cream this was to all intents and purpose a particularly good massage.
Harry groaned.
"Too hard?" she asked.
"No….er, no…it's good, it's fine just fine."
And her fingers worked the muscles in his shoulders, her thumbs circling strong and hard. They slid down the top of his arms to his wrists and back up. They worked down his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. They worked his sides and every muscle and sinew felt the strength and power of her hands. Finally they reached the small of his back where they swept across, her fingertips forcing themselves just under the waistband of his shorts.
"There we go," she said, rubbing her hands on her own legs to get rid of the surplus lotion.
There was no answer from Harry.
"Harry?" she wondered if he had gone to sleep.
He was far from asleep.
"Harry?"
"My god, Ruth, where did you learn to do that?"
"Oh I used to go out with a masseur just after university. Showed me the technique. I can do full body too."
Harry gulped.
"Do you need me to do your legs?"
"No. No. They're fine," said Harry very quickly. "He knew that he couldn't take any more, not without doing something probably considered highly indecent and probably illegal on a beach.
"Maybe some other time, though," he added quickly, just in case.
"Okay" said Ruth quite happily and sat back down and picked up her book.
Harry stayed on his front for a long time.
Eventually he offered to get some drinks and said he'd be about half an hour as had to check on something. He needed to get away. She was blissfully unaware of the effect she was having.
As he disappeared up the beach her bikini top flew off, the lotion came out again and she remained on high alert for his return. She was not going to find herself in yesterday's position again!
He came back and all was as he had left it.
"Drink," he said handing her a fruit punch.
"Thanks,"
Harry sat back down.
"Harry, about dinner,"
"Yes," he answered happily.
"I've been invited to my friend's again."
"Oh," he had two nights left with her, now this meant only one.
"You're invited too."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"But they don't know me."
"No, but they've invited you. So would you like to come?"
"But how can they invite me when they've no idea who I am."
"Because I told them I was with somebody."
"With somebody?"
"Yes, have you forgotten how to speak English?"
"What do you mean 'with'?"
"With, here, on the island, with someone, you know, accompanied by, together with, associated with." She felt too nervous to go further.
"So will you come, or not?"
"Yes I'd love to come with you, go with you, together, to theirs."
"That's good," she said and raised her book, exhausted by the whole conversation.
They both lay back and thought thoughts not suitable for a family audience and then they both fell asleep.