We're out at the West End and there's gunna be a showdown between Nick and Larissa. Will Nick be exposed by our brave young heroine as a smuggler of high-grade herring and octopus? Or will she whip out her own quokka-shaped bong, inviting him to fill her pipe with the good stuff? Afterwards, will they roll around together in the foamy surf? It's getting exciting in Rottnest Romance...
There were a number of people already there, eating at the picnic buildings and ambling over the walkways. Some were at the edge of the cliffs, gazing out at the dramatic views of the turbulent ocean. She couldn’t see Nick.
Hopefully he had decided to go off and explore the area, she thought optimistically. Shouldering her bag, she admired the view for a moment, and then began to carefully pick her way down to one of the beaches.
Even if Nick was prowling around, there was little risk of him stumbling across where she was going to eat her lunch. She knew a very secluded spot where she had eaten a couple of time before – she liked to think of it as her very own private spot.
Once she had reached the soft yellow sand she took off her sandals and strolled along, enjoying the feeling of the sand between her toes. Her retreat was along the right hand side of the beach. The rock there formed a natural windbreak – she had eaten there while watching the surf break and race up to the shore. Larissa reached the rock, and…
There he was again, stretched out on his side, poking in a lunchbox. He looked up and saw her standing there.
“Hello again. Changed your mind about that lift?”
Her mouth set in determination. “You’re occupying my spot.”
He looked nonplussed. “What do you mean, your spot?”
“I always have lunch in this very spot when I come out here.”
“Is that so? I don’t see any sign telling me that this particular piece of beach is reserved for the use of one person only,” he stated, looking idly around.
It was obvious he wasn’t going to move. She glumly thought she should go and eat somewhere else. But then, seeing him casually laid out, she felt a sudden stab of annoyance. No – why should she be forced to go somewhere else? It was a free country, and she wasn’t going to let his unexpected presence put her off.
She turned on her heels, and strode to a point 20 or so metres away from him. She sat down and looked in her bag. A delicious lunch was in there, and she was going to enjoy it. Never mind about the interloper a bit further down. She could feel him looking at her – it didn’t bother her.
In her lunchbox was a container of yogurt, a salad and some fresh fruit. She took out her fork, spoon and napkin. As she placed them in front of her a breath of wind took the napkin and blew it up in the air. It sailed across to where Nick was, and landed just in front of him.
She froze. What would he think was going on? She could have kicked herself – why hadn’t she tucked the napkin under her lunchbox?
He wasn’t making any move to return it to her, of course. She didn’t relish the idea of using her shirt to wipe her mouth and fingers after she had eaten…she sighed, realizing she would have to retrieve it herself.
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