Rescue party

A short story by Sarah Clarke

- SARAH CLARKE

Welcome everyone! My name is Marco and I promise you're going to have the best afternoon. Bouches de Bonifacio is the biggest nature reserve in France and, of course, my boat tour is the most fascinating. Now, does anyone have any questions before we set off?

I lean back in my seat next to where Marco is standing at the helm and stare into the twinkling sea. We're idling in shallow water and I can see an orange starfish stuck to a rock below the surface. As I take in its distinctive splayed arms, I wonder if Marco could be right.

It's my birthday today and a big one too, so it should be a special occasion. But I don't know a soul here. This trip to Corsica is an escape, not a treat. A place to bury my head in the sand, not celebrate.

"Can I take your photo?"

I lift my head at the question, but it's not addressed to me. A trio of 20-something women dressed in bikinis and friendship bracelets are waving their phones in Marco's direction and giggling. There are seven tourists on board in total and I can already tell that these women will provide the entertainment as we explore sea caves and secret beaches between Corsica and Sardinia - at least that's what the hotel receptionist promised this morning when she sought me out and encouraged me to book.

There's an older man sitting in the middle of the boat and I'm guessing he's British from his panama hat and the thick suncream smeared across his cheeks. A young French couple are at the front, leaning over the boat's bow. The man's arm is slung around his girlfriend's shoulder and his lips nuzzle her ear. A sting of jealousy shoots through me, so I shift my gaze to the four empty seats behind them.

"How about I swap a photo for a five-star Tripadvisor review," Marco suggests with a wink, which sets off more squealing.