First Resort
"Excuse me?" asked an American woman. Daphne opened her eyes and turned her head. A middle-aged woman in a one-piece swimsuit covered by a long floaty shirt was standing by the adjacent lounger, and all the other ones had filled up.
"Yes?" asked Daphne.
"IS this one taken?" she asked.
"Oh no," said Daphne. "Just mine." and she sat up, and looked over at the pool.
Beside her the American woman sat down and lay back. "I love Hawaii," she said conversationally.
"It is quite pleasant," said Daphne.
"I'm Barbara?" said the woman.
"Daphne," said Daphne, searching the pool for wet black hair. Well, short, messy wet black hair.
"Oh, what a pretty name," said Barbara, "and you're English."
"Well yes," said Daphne, glancing briefly at Barbara who was smiling politely, then back at the pool and frowning.
Barbara looked out over the pool, "I like swimming."
"It's good exercise," said Daphne non-committally, Beyond the pool the other pool had some sort of blue slide sticking out over it… and a blur of pale flesh, dark hair and loud board shorts shot off the slide at speed and barrelled into the water with a massive splash.
And a Harry swum to the steps in of the other pool, stood up and walked out. Daphne watched, to see if he was limping, or obviously favouring his right shoulder, but instead, he was tall, dripping wet with his hair slicked back and a grin.
"Oh. The view is not bad," said Barbara. Harry got to the steps up the rockery and started climbing them quickly, his thighs pumping. Wet board shorts rather clung, thought Daphne philosophically. He does have a very nice bottom, and back and legs and shoulders… Daphne smiled. And he's mostly nice.
"With a tan, that'd be delicious," said Barbara.
"Well he doesn't get to a beach in England."
"Oh sorry is that yours?"
"Well, I don't own him, but we're here together," said Daphne. "If we can stand being on actual holiday together, when we get home, he might give me a ring."
"He hasn't got a ring?" asked Barbara.
"I'm sure there's something at the bank for safe-keeping," said Daphne. "I'd rather have a ring that's got some history, than something new."
Harry had queued with a mixture of mostly children and teens, and took a turn going down the … actually quite long water-slide, once again shooting off the end to land in a big splash.
"He's got a lot of energy," said Barbara.
"He's usually tired. He's a junior doctor," said Daphne. She watched a cheerful Harry walk quickly to the stairs, and once again, power up them. And licked her lips, which were feeling dry. Sadly she'd left her lip-gloss in the room. He did have a lot of energy.
"So Daphne," said Barbara "What do you do?"
"I run a small payday lender," said Daphne. "I charge much less interest than the competition, and most of my customers are, well, young women with … jobs they would like to quit."
"Really?" asked Barbara, "Barbara Shunwood. How did you find a place like that to work at?"
"Daphne Greengrass," said Daphne, "I didn't – I heard other girls at work talking about lending conditions, and when I quit, I started my own little bank."
"You own a bank," said Barbara, and she chuckled. "You're certainly a surprising young woman."
"Well," said Daphne modestly, looking out at the beach and the surfers, "Just because someone works in a rotten job doesn't mean that everyone should be on them like vultures."
"So… that sounds like an interesting story?" asked Barbara, "I'm a teacher. I teach French actually."
"Oh, quite" said Daphne "Would you prefer to talk enfrancias?"
"Non,"
"Oui," said Daphne, "There was… a change of government, and some taxes and fees, costly stuff," she explained. "My family were, well… we were not making ends meet, and to be honest, I don't have any real qualifications, so dancing. It paid enough, but then my sister got … very sick, and we had medical bills on top. So more dancing."
"Oh." said Barbara, and it was quite a loaded 'oh,' "And nowadays?"
"Well, Harry, who appears to have fallen in love with that water-slide," said Daphne, "is a doctor, and well, he got my sister some real help, and, she's… she's cured. Once I had a decent pile saved up, I quit dancing – it's very annoying work, and thought to start a better payday lender."
"So he saved your sister. That's kinda romantic," Barbara was tactfully not asking too many questions about how one made a pile of money dancing.
"Well, and I got myself shot in an attempted robbery, and Harry kept me alive, and put me back together," said Daphne. "I was already grateful, and my sister's new shop was doing quite well. He was still a wreck from the war, of course."
"The war?"
"Long story short, after months of therapy he suggested I try it. And, honestly, it helped. Many, many months later, well, he's good company, and kind and…"
"Tall, messy black hair... oh my god, he's got scars" said Barbara, staring at his arms and chest – the one on his breastbone was the twin of the one on his head.
Daphne looked over, and a grinning Harry was approaching, dripping water.
"If you drip on me, I will be very cross," said Daphne, holding out a dry towel. Harry dried his hair vigorously, and started on his shoulders. Daphne found his glasses, and held them out.
"Glasses in my hand," she said louder, over the sound of mostly children playing in the water-slide, and the background music coming from speakers on poles.
Harry dried his head some more, and put the glasses on and smiled at her. "The slide's fun," he said, drying his legs.
"Harry, Barbara, Barbara, Harry," said Daphne "Barbara's a teacher from America who teaches French."
"And this is your Harry," said Barbara "Is that a… decorative scar on your sternum, Harry?"
"Um, no, accident," said Harry, and he leant sideways, stretching his torso and shook his head, then repeated it the other way.
"I had water in my ears," he explained, and sat on the end of Daphne's lounger.
"Daphne says you're a Doctor?"
"Junior," Harry replied, "I've only been qualified for a year."
"And where?"
"In the hospital."
"Absolutely insane hours," said Daphne.
"It's … safe," said Harry, "and I'm helping people. Before … I started, my best friend was in an accident when we were travelling. I didn't even know basic first aid. When … things got back to normal, I thought, this way I could help people, and well, not get stabbed." he added darkly.
"Are those stab wounds? Even the one on your shoulder?"
"Animal horn," said Harry, with a shrug. "Fractured my scapula."
"And you saved Daphne from a gunshot wound," said Barbara "how romantic."
Harry coughed, "god, that was bloody and awful. And I got dragged over the coals afterwards for not giving pain relief sooner."
"It bloody hurt, Potter," said Daphne, frowning at the memory of it.
"I was trying to get you stable, I'm sorry," said Harry.
Barbara had a hand to her throat in shock "Oh god, that's awful."
"Don't say that!" said Daphne "He'll – "
"Well, anal fissures, now that's awful," said Harry.
Barbara went greenish.
"Harry, No. No ghastly doctor anecdotes. Everyone finds them revolting," said Daphne.
"Well, that's the worst… except for children with fatal illnesses, of course," said Harry.
"And what's your speciality?" asked Barbara.
"Well, I'm a general practitioner. They wanted me to just do trauma but it was, well traumatic," admitted Harry.
"And that you do trauma anyway?" asked Daphne.
"I like helping people," said Harry firmly.
"You have a thing about saving people," she countered.
"Oh god, you two are so cute together," said Barbara. "How long have you been together?"
"I honestly can't remember," said Harry, and Daphne kicked him gently, and lay back on the raised lounger with her knees pulled up "Arse," she said. "About seventeen months," she said. "We don't go places in public because someone's a little bit famous."
"Not for anything I wanted to do," said Harry, leaning back on Daphne's calves, his damp hair on her knees. "Hmm. The loungers here are a little hard," he said.
"Harry, have you brought a ring with you?" asked Barbara. Harry coughed in British embarrassment.
"Barbara, if there's one thing I know about Harry, it's that he's not that prepared," said Daphne.
"Hey, I'm the one the came to see you with the suitcase already packed and tickets," said Harry mildly, stretching out his legs.
"You forgot to bring sandals, and nonrefundable tickets," said Daphne. "Like you were pressuring me into doing something I didn't want to do," she said somewhat dramatically, and a little disingenuously.
"Well, it was this summer break or next year," said Harry, "And we both wanted to go to Hawaii."
"Oh, he reminds me of my husband," said Barbara, "He didn't have a romantic bone in his entire body either."
"Is he?" asked Daphne.
"Oh he managed to wrangle a seat going offshore fishing with one of the execs from his work," said Barbara, "and then it sank. The owners Insurance paid out and well, Hawaii holiday."
"Oh I'm sorry," said Daphne.
"Well, he wasn't… a great catch," said Barbara. Harry shook his head. Talk about a traumatically bad joke.
"Harry, can you swim well enough for surfing?" asked Daphne.
"I hope so. Drowning not on my to-do list for this week," said Harry. "I expect I'll be fine."
"Surfing?" asked Barbara. "Do you surf?"
"No, but it looks like fun," said Daphne "And Harry's got excellent balance."
"It's completely different," said Harry blandly and automatically.
"He really is quite… sarcastic, isn't he?" asked Barbara.
"Yes, but he's got a good… heart," said Daphne.
"Wait till the last day, hit him over the head and marry him before he comes around," said Barbara.
"Look, head injuries causing unconsciousness are very dangerous," said Harry, "and honestly, unless she's in those stilts, she's not going to have the reach."
"I'm one inch shorter than you," said Daphne, shoving his back with her right foot.
"He really has a whole… tight-arsed Brit doctor thing going on over… quite a playful personality."
"I love to play," said Harry. "But a hit to the head is always depicted as consequence free."
"He's been hit in the head repeatedly," added Daphne, "and plays high impact sports."
"Only for fun, not professionally, and not as roughly as we played at school," said Harry defensively.
"Says, spent days in the infirmary boy," said Daphne.
"None of that was my fault." said Harry.
"Did he really?" asked Barbara.
"Of course he did," said Daphne. "I feel surfing might be just what reckless here needs."
"I'm not sure about horse-riding," muttered Harry, "It sounds boring."
"Because the trees aren't going past at several hundred miles an hour?" asked Daphne.
"Completely irrelevant," said Harry defensively.
"Several hundred?" asked Barbara.
"Motorbike," said Harry, improvising.
"And a motorbike?" asked Daphne "You didn't tell me you had a motorbike?"
"Slipped my mind. Its um… wrecked."
"And it got wrecked?" asked Daphne lifting her head.
"Crashed. I was in the sidecar, actually," said Harry. "So it's totally not my fault."
"There I was imaging Harry in black leathers on some fast Italian thing," said Barbara.
"No Harry," said Daphne immediately.
"Certainly not. Motorcyclists have only a sixty percent chance of living as long as non-riders," said Harry, "It's medically inadvisable. Though I could take adequate precautions."
"The answer is still, don't be stupid," said Daphne.
"Well, I'll leave you two love-birds to it," said Barbara "but seriously, just marry her before she gets a better offer."
Harry waited till Barbara had moved off before snagging her lounger and lying back "Better offer, my arse." he said.
"I'm sure many of the men here want to make me an offer," said Daphne.
"Yes, revolting ones," said Harry. "How are you feeling?" he asked seriously.
"Apart from some lingering disorientation from the long trip, fine, if a little frustrated," said Daphne.
"Well, I could help you with that," said Harry mildly.
"Twat. I was thinking of a surfing lesson."
"And swimming, upper-body?" asked Harry, looking over at the ocean.
"I swim daily, brush a horse down, and still do a bit of dance practice," said Daphne.
"Well let's go try it," said Harry, sitting up. He had a suspicion the 'a bit of dance practice'
occurred in a room with mirrors.
Harry and Daphne joined a group waiting at the sign and listened to the Surf coach, a mellow Hawaiian with tattoos up both legs, and they nodded when he asked them if they swam.
"Well get ready everyone," he said, and Daphne simply took off her wraps and sunglasses, and bundled them up in Harry's shirt.
"No-ones ever been eaten by a shark at our beach, so don't believe the stories," said the coach, and he led the small group of newbie surfers out with boards.
They paddled out beyond the churned up water to where the smaller waves broke; plunging through the wall of water, soaking wet, and paddling some more.
Finally, as a group they spread out and turned, and rode the small breaker in lying on the boards. While the coach stood like he was standing waiting for a bus.
Harry fell off the first time he attempted to stand.
Daphne kept her balance and rode the wave down to white chop, then hopped off to wrestle the board around.
Harry fell off the next time too, and Daphne over-extended and fell off, and then, on about his fourth try, Harry got to his feet, and rode the wave in, and once the water dropped to white foam, leaned over, turning the board, and dropped to his knees.
The coach raised his eyebrows, "And this is your first lesson?" he shouted.
"Beginners luck?" shouted Harry, and Daphne got back on her board and paddled furiously. On the next wave, she kept her balance and rode sideways along the wave with the beginnings of real technique.
Harry watched, and therefore fell off. He paddled back out and got back up onto a long, slow wave, and managed to go left and right a tiny bit, before the small wave was spent.
"Oh it's on," said Daphne. And for nearly an hour they tried, mostly successfully to surf the small waves.
The class had ended, and Harry and Daphne only came back as the sun was nearly at zenith, dripping wet, and poking one another.
"I was better,"
"No I was,"
"Rubbish,"
"You two!" said the coach, standing next to a surfboard jammed pointy-end-first in the beach, "This is really your first lesson?"
"Well, I swim and dance and, well, he's got great balance," said Daphne.
"So, you what, rock climb?" asked the coach, eying Harry.
"Mostly running, haven't done climbing in ages," said Harry, squinting.
Daphne got his glasses, and dried Harry's head, and put them on him. Harry brushed his hair back futilely.
"And you need glasses," said the coach. "There are prescription goggles."
"I used to wear goggles over my glasses," said Harry "for um…"
"Motorbikes," said Daphne. "Recklessly."
"And you're quite competitive," said the coach with a smile.
"Well, this is something we're both beginners at," said Harry, "even if Daphne won't admit I've fallen off less."
"Now, don't get overtired, and be careful falling off. Get hit by your board, and you're a world of hurt." said the coach.
"Oh, I expect I'll be okay. Harry's a doctor, and has a thick skull," said Daphne.
Harry poked Daphne and the coach's eyes narrowed "That's a big scar on your shoulder." he remarked.
"An wild animal gored me," said Harry.
"In England? What, a vicious sheep?" asked the coach.
"It was um, imported," said Harry, "fractured scapula, which, professionally speaking, I would not recommend."
"And your arms?"
"Um. I was a pretty reckless teenager," said Harry, looking at Daphne, who was rubbing herself dry.
"Just a tip there, newbies – go to the freshwater showers over behind the water slide and rinse off. The salt's not good for your costumes, or your skin." said the coach.
Daphne carried the dry clothes, and they went off to find the freshwater showers.
After lunch in the open-sided restaurant Daphne yawned. "Come on, let's have a nap."