‘Bad timing really. It was due to open for Christmas. They had celebrity guests booked in - a whole waiting-list of celebrities actually.’
The woodchip pathway curved past a luxury swimming pool and, beside it, a whirlpool spa.
‘I keep fish in there now.’
He led them through another curtain of plastic flaps into a pinewood cabin. It was cooler here, the same temperature as outside. She could feel the moisture that had settled on her skin walking through Raymond’s paradise begin to chill.
‘There are eight chalets like this one, each sleeping a family of four. You lot can share this one, or spread out and use the others if you want. Up to you.’
Leona smiled. ‘This is good, thank you.’
Raymond shrugged, a self-effacing gesture across his narrow shoulders that reminded her of a comedy actor Mum used to like. Woody someone.
‘Okay, then,’ he said. ‘You want to get your stuff out of the back of the truck? Meanwhile . . .’ he grinned at his Bose speakers, ‘I just want to wire up these little fellas to my sound system.’
He turned and left, pushing his way through the flaps.
They turned to each other. Helen ended the wide-eyed silence. ‘I so-o-o-o want to live here.’
The smell of freeze-dried tomato and pasta meals being heated up in the microwave attracted everyone from exploring different corners of the intriguingly landscaped jungle floor. Raymond brought out a large steaming bowl and placed it on a picnic table set out on wooden decking that overlooked the pool and soon they were all seated, hungrily tucking into their dinner.
‘So you’ve got ‘lectric, too?’ said Helen blowing on her spoon.
Nathan shook his head and laughed. ‘Duh . . . you finally noticed then?’ Jacob snorted, and both boys began cackling.
‘Hey, piss off!’ she replied, dismissing them with a flick of her wrist. ‘Children.’
‘Sorry, Bubbles.’
She flicked Nathan her finger. ‘I’m not as stupid and immature as you two.’
When all three of them had been younger and in Leona’s class, Bubbles had been her nickname - short for Bubble-head.
Nathan and Jacob guffawed. Leona noticed Raymond smiling at the exchange, bemused and amused at the same time.
‘You lot, pack it in,’ said Leona. They did, but only after a few more muttered digs at each other.
‘We got ‘lectric, too,’ said Helen, returning to her conversational gambit.
‘Yeah?’ Raymond sipped on a spoon of steaming pasta. ‘What’re you running, turbines or cells?’
Helen made a face, shrugged and looked at the others for help. ‘Poo, I think?’
The boys laughed again.
‘What about you?’ asked Leona.
His bamboo chair creaked as he sat back. ‘The whole spa was set up to be completely carbon neutral and off the grid. The enviro-dome has photovoltaic cells at the top.’ He grinned. ‘See, that’s how this place was marketed. The entire thing was billed as an exclusive luxury destination with an absolute zero carbon footprint. The electricity used to heat the dome completely derived from our own renewable sources. The food served to guests was to be from local farmers. Total carbon-neutral stamp of compliance on everything.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s good,’ said Helen, pretending she was up to speed on what he meant by that.
‘The brochure even claimed to make a carbon-offset donation to cover the journey miles made by customers from their home to here; so they could enjoy their stay totally guilt-free.’ He shook his head. ‘All just a gimmick really. A load of crap. No such thing as a zero footprint. Any case, the cells on the roof were backed up by a diesel generator before the crash. Half of them weren’t even wired in.’
‘You’re still running the diesel generator?’ asked Leona.
‘Shit, no. I’ve kept the diesel for the truck. The power’s mostly coming from half a dozen household wind turbines I pinched from B&Q - the ones they started stocking a couple of summers before the crash, you know, when oil was shooting up?’
She nodded.
‘Pretty good things those. Reliable.’
Jacob leant forward. ‘So did you work here before the crash?’
‘Yeah. I was the technical manager. Basically they poached me from Disneyland to come here and run this place.’
‘Shit! Disneyland! Seriously?’
Leona wasn’t surprised to see Jacob’s mouth drop open. Mum and Dad had taken them both to EuroDisney back in 2008. Jacob had been about five then and was fascinated by the animatronics on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. He must have dragged them from the exit back round to the entrance half a dozen times.
‘Yup. Disneyland in Florida. I was chief oompah-loompah for one of their bigger rides.’
Helen’s