had been out on the island for almost five years now and the pace of life, the people and the lifestyle had really taken a grip of him.
He took out his phone and tried, not for the first time, to return the call from Cathy James.
He waited patiently for the connection, but when it went through, the answering service cut in. His mouth warped with frustration. He placed the phone on the table, pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes and reached for the beer, wondering what the hell she could want.
She had sounded troubled and unhappy. Totally different to the last time Flynn had seen her.
That had been in October last year when she and her new husband, Tom James, had come out to the island for their honeymoon. Flynn had been unable to get to the UK for the wedding, so he had tried to make amends by finding a villa for them â for free â and picking them up from the airport. He had also arranged a fishing trip and a jeep safari, both at no cost, and they seemed to have had a great time.
Flynn and Cathy went way back. He had met her when he joined Lancashire Constabulary after leaving the Marines over twenty years ago. They had been new recruits at the same intake, he being a bit older than her at twenty-three, she nineteen, shiny, straight out of the box, a bit naive, but extremely beautiful.
At the time she had been single and heâd been married. This hadnât stopped them from becoming lovers for a very brief time, though ultimately they became just very good friends. As their careers moved off in separate directions, they kept in contact but hardly saw anything of each other in the years that followed. Flynn knew she got married and then divorced, while he had remained spliced until both his job and relationship went south and he ended up quitting the cops and taking up residence in Gran Canaria.
It was during the period he was under investigation that he re-established contact with Cathy. By then she was seriously into a relationship with a detective from Lancaster, who she married a few years later â hence the provision of a honeymoon by Flynn.
Flynn raised his eyes and looked across the beach, watching holidaymakers trudge through the gentle surf at the waterâs edge.
He wondered if something had gone wrong with the marriage, Cathyâs second. Was that why she was calling him, wanting to talk? He hoped it was something much less complicated, but couldnât guess what. He wasnât a good counsellor, but a man of action who wasnât anywhere near in touch with his feminine, touchy-feely listening side.
Cathy and Tom had seemed a perfect couple, but wasnât that what honeymoon couples usually appeared to be? Flynn remembered discreetly watching her on the day he took them out fishing. She had been all goo-goo eyes for Tom, the new hubby. Couldnât stop watching him, hanging on his every word. Flynn had actually felt some mixed emotions at that point.
First and foremost he was happy for Cathy. She had been through a bad time, had had a terrible first marriage, really been through the mangle. Then sheâd found Tom, who on the face of it came across as a caring, generous guy, and she was head over heels in love with him. On the flip side, Flynn had felt a pang of envy. Not many months before he thought he had been on the verge of finding the love of his life, but had lost her tragically. The third side of the coin, if there was such a thing, was that Flynn also thought about what could have been with him and Cathy, had the timing been right. They had probably been in love, he thought, way back when â whatever love meant, he thought cynically. Maybe things would have been very different if both had been free to pursue their relationship beyond a fling at a police training centre. Instead, they had accepted that their only future was as mates.
Cathy â maybe, it seemed â had also harboured the same wistful idea. She had caught Flynn looking at her and
He took out his phone and tried, not for the first time, to return the call from Cathy James.
He waited patiently for the connection, but when it went through, the answering service cut in. His mouth warped with frustration. He placed the phone on the table, pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes and reached for the beer, wondering what the hell she could want.
She had sounded troubled and unhappy. Totally different to the last time Flynn had seen her.
That had been in October last year when she and her new husband, Tom James, had come out to the island for their honeymoon. Flynn had been unable to get to the UK for the wedding, so he had tried to make amends by finding a villa for them â for free â and picking them up from the airport. He had also arranged a fishing trip and a jeep safari, both at no cost, and they seemed to have had a great time.
Flynn and Cathy went way back. He had met her when he joined Lancashire Constabulary after leaving the Marines over twenty years ago. They had been new recruits at the same intake, he being a bit older than her at twenty-three, she nineteen, shiny, straight out of the box, a bit naive, but extremely beautiful.
At the time she had been single and heâd been married. This hadnât stopped them from becoming lovers for a very brief time, though ultimately they became just very good friends. As their careers moved off in separate directions, they kept in contact but hardly saw anything of each other in the years that followed. Flynn knew she got married and then divorced, while he had remained spliced until both his job and relationship went south and he ended up quitting the cops and taking up residence in Gran Canaria.
It was during the period he was under investigation that he re-established contact with Cathy. By then she was seriously into a relationship with a detective from Lancaster, who she married a few years later â hence the provision of a honeymoon by Flynn.
Flynn raised his eyes and looked across the beach, watching holidaymakers trudge through the gentle surf at the waterâs edge.
He wondered if something had gone wrong with the marriage, Cathyâs second. Was that why she was calling him, wanting to talk? He hoped it was something much less complicated, but couldnât guess what. He wasnât a good counsellor, but a man of action who wasnât anywhere near in touch with his feminine, touchy-feely listening side.
Cathy and Tom had seemed a perfect couple, but wasnât that what honeymoon couples usually appeared to be? Flynn remembered discreetly watching her on the day he took them out fishing. She had been all goo-goo eyes for Tom, the new hubby. Couldnât stop watching him, hanging on his every word. Flynn had actually felt some mixed emotions at that point.
First and foremost he was happy for Cathy. She had been through a bad time, had had a terrible first marriage, really been through the mangle. Then sheâd found Tom, who on the face of it came across as a caring, generous guy, and she was head over heels in love with him. On the flip side, Flynn had felt a pang of envy. Not many months before he thought he had been on the verge of finding the love of his life, but had lost her tragically. The third side of the coin, if there was such a thing, was that Flynn also thought about what could have been with him and Cathy, had the timing been right. They had probably been in love, he thought, way back when â whatever love meant, he thought cynically. Maybe things would have been very different if both had been free to pursue their relationship beyond a fling at a police training centre. Instead, they had accepted that their only future was as mates.
Cathy â maybe, it seemed â had also harboured the same wistful idea. She had caught Flynn looking at her and
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