Pandemic

By Terrence Aubrey

What are the risks of a Worldwide Pandemic actually happening?

On a Richter scale of one to one hundred how high is the risk of a pandemic sweeping the World in the twenty first century? In a word huge, life on earth has fast evolved but within the confines of a one dimensional direction and due to our desire for ever greater material fulfilment. Mega cities housing millions, transport systems designed to get people to their places of work as efficiently as possible and towering office blocks within which thousands work are now the norm. Many come into vague contact with hundreds and sometimes thousands of total strangers on a daily basis.
Added to that must be considered the international travel that we now take for granted. Our desire to be somewhere else is best summed up by a Russian phrase. “The best places to be are those where we are not.”
In terms of international flight we submit ourselves to share cylindrical tubes with hundreds of people we do not know.
Have you ever worried, as you fly to some exotic destination or other about the recycled air you are breathing in? If you have ever suffered a flight where a guy four rows in front of you is suffering a stinking cold you will know what I’m talking about. Air flight is an extreme example, but we have chosen to live within crammed environments not so different from laboratory rats. Trains, busses metro systems and mega shopping malls and open plan offices are but examples. Within each of these environments we breathe in, however diluted, the filtered and recycled and expelled breath of complete strangers and on a regular basis. What if on your next flight one passenger was exhaling an airborne virus with the devastating capability to kill and even worse, a scary thought no?
Welcome to Pandemic where a so called worst case scenario is shown to be not only an understatement, a vague possibility, but actually happens.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terrence Aubrey
• Release date: Jan 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370075171

Terrence Aubrey

Terrence Aubrey was born in Bristol, England, the only son of a Ballet dancer mother and composer father. Rebellious of nature and from an early age, he abandoned his education at the earliest possible moment, fifteen. He showed no inclination of following in the artistic footsteps of his parents during his formative years. Preferring a self enlightening process, he set off upon an adventure that led him to experiment with understanding the mind and the development of self awareness. During that period he enjoyed extensive World travel across the countries of Europe, the America’s, north and south and the FSU. He found those travels, enriching, mind opening and educational and in equal measure. He discovered both a passion and love of writing by chance, while establishing a website. It was a website than required a lot of varied content. That ultimately led him to the writing of many articles upon diverse subjects. That in turn led to him creating a blog. The leap from blogging to writing full length novels was a gradual process. Many of his novels reflect his environmental concern for the way we, the human race have evolved and the consequences that path has led us towards. Whilst many of his novels are dramatic, even apocalyptic, they also show a way forward. Whether you believe that way to be better or worse than the current status quo is for you to decide. Terrence Aubrey currently lives on a farm in southern Spain and cultivates Avocados. He has four sons, three dogs and writes. He has now published several works of fiction and they can be found on Smashwords.

Book preview

About the Author

Terrence Aubrey was born in Bristol, England, the only son of a Ballet dancer mother and composer father. Rebellious of nature and from an early age, he abandoned his education at the earliest possible moment, fifteen. He showed no inclination of following in the artistic footsteps of his parents during his formative years.

Preferring a self enlightening process, he set off upon an adventure that led him to experiment with understanding the mind and the development of self awareness. During that period he enjoyed extensive World travel across the countries of Europe, the America’s, north and south and the FSU. He found those travels, enriching, mind opening and educational and in equal measure.

He discovered both a passion and love of writing by chance, while establishing a blog site. Through writing and publishing a host of blogs upon topical World issues his passion for writing grew. His primary passion was environmental and mankind’s seemingly total disregard for the very planet we each depend upon. Rightly or wrongly he found mankind’s lack of care for the very planet we depend upon certifiable, insane. The leap from blogging to writing full length novels was a gradual process.

That the path the human race has followed for the past two thousand years is fundamentally flawed seems clear. While on one level we have progressed in leaps and bounds materially, the cost of that one dimensional progress becomes ever clearer. If you can imagine planet earth as a tree we have been cutting the very branch we sit upon, depend upon since as a species we learnt to walk on two legs.

Has anything of importance changed during the past two thousand years of our evolution? Oh yes, and very much so, we are now able to cut through that branch far more efficiently.

The majority of his novels reflect his environmental concern for the way we, the human race have chosen to live and the consequences that path has led us towards. Whilst many of his novels are dramatic, even apocalyptic, they also show a way forward. Whether you believe that way to be better or worse than the current status quo is for you to decide. Terrence Aubrey currently lives on a farm in southern Spain and cultivates Avocados. He has four sons, three dogs, two ex wives and writes.

He has now published several works of fiction and they can be found on all of the best online eBook publishers and will soon be available in print.

Acknowledgements

How authors come to writing is I am sure as individual a process as the books we right. For me it was initially through a combination of blogging and reading. I devour novels like some people devour coffee, alcohol, or food. During my leisure time and no I do not regard writing as leisure time, I am often reading.

Below I list those authors that have most captured my imagination and drawn me into whatever World, or situation they have created. While these authors do not share a theme or genre, they do share that ability and for this reason alone I list them below.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings trilogy is a majestic piece of work made both real and tangible through the author’s skill and passion. The Hobbit too makes it into my top ten.

C.S Lewis, the Chronicles of Narnia. Much like JRR Tolkien C S Lewis created a World of fantasy that was as tangible as Middle Earth within Lord of the Rings. His work, much like Tolkien’s shares a timeless relevance that remains as valid now as when he penned it.

Aldous Huxley. Another great Author that was able to create his own Worlds and flesh them out as he chose. Island was the last book he wrote and was a utopian paradise. Was it perhaps the World in which he would have chosen to live within?

The common theme among the above authors is that they each had the ability and vision to create entire World’s from their imagination formidable minds and intellects.

Franz Kafka was the creator of the Castle, amongst many other books. If you ever become frustrated with faceless bureaucracy try this tale. It could be worse, far, far worse, as Franz Kafka skilfully portrays. A positive quote of his is Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Only I would question the limitation to youth for the appreciation of this God given gift. Another quote of his that I love and that seems to contradict the one above is:- Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old, Franz Kafka

I must include here Dan Brown and solely for the Da Vinci Code. In my opinion a piece of work that must belong amongst the most skilfully written and intriguing books ever written.

Luke Rhinehart, is the author and creator of many tales, but I choose Long Voyage Back. It is a tale set within a Post nuclear war World and for me within its bleakness lays its beauty. The grit and determination to survive on the part of the main characters is as uplifting as it is bleak and hopeless.

Tom Clancy. I must include this author having enjoyed both his skill and the readability of the numerous books he has written within his chosen genre.

Sophie Kinsella is perhaps the odd out within this list if only for her delightfully light hearted way with words. If you are feeling down, or troubled try one of her tales, the perfect pick me up.

Robert Ludlum. Another author of great talent, though for me the brilliantly conceived and written series of books following the trials and tribulations of Jason Bourne reflects his best work.

I must also include Larry Niven for the Ring World series and the books he wrote in collaboration with Jerry Pournelle. Both Lucifer’s Hammer and The Mote in God’s Eye are well crafted books of considerable depth and intrigue. The post apocalyptical Lucifer’s Hammer is a nail biting tale of surviving the affects of a comets collision with earth until literally the last page.

Steven King is arguably the World’s most successful author of all time in terms of books sold, so why is he at the bottom of my list? The Shining and Carrie were books that were difficult to put down, but many of his subsequent books were for me the opposite. Sorry Stephen if you read these words, but I doubt you will be bothered by them if you do. Opinions are something we all suffer from yes, right, or wrong!

Somehow and from the varied list of influences that I have listed above my style of story-telling has evolved. Watching as we voluntarily and almost Zombie like destroy the very planet we live upon forms the backbone of many of the tale’s I weave. If my stories in any way draw you into the Worlds of concerns and fears that I have created then I will feel I have succeeded.

Y’all have a nice day.

Pandemic

What are the risks of a Worldwide Pandemic actually happening?

On a Richter scale of one to one hundred how high is the risk of a pandemic sweeping the World in the twenty first century? In a word huge, life on earth has fast evolved but within the confines of a one dimensional direction and due to our desire for ever greater material fulfilment. Mega cities housing millions, transport systems designed to get people to their places of work as efficiently as possible and towering office blocks within which thousands work are now the norm. Many come into vague contact with hundreds and sometimes thousands of total strangers on a daily basis.

Added to that must be considered the international travel that we now take for granted. Our desire to be somewhere else is best summed up by a Russian phrase. The best places to be are those where we are not.

In terms of international flight we submit ourselves to share cylindrical tubes with hundreds of people we do not know.

Have you ever worried, as you fly to some exotic destination or other about the recycled air you are breathing in? If you have ever suffered a flight where a guy four rows in front of you is suffering a stinking cold you will know what I’m talking about. Air flight is an extreme example, but we have chosen to live within crammed environments not so different from laboratory rats. Trains, busses metro systems and mega shopping malls and open plan offices are but examples. Within each of these environments we breathe in, however diluted, the filtered and recycled and expelled breath of complete strangers and on a regular basis. What if on your next flight one passenger was exhaling an airborne virus with the devastating capability to kill and even worse, a scary thought no?

Welcome to Pandemic where a so called worst case scenario is shown to be not only an understatement, a vague possibility, but actually happens.

Chapter One

A young man with a plan

John Bollinger was the only child that his mother would bear and due to medical complications. His parents were hard working atypical Yorkshire folk and John followed in their footsteps. That his parents would never be wealthy, barring a lottery win bothered neither of them in the least. On the contrary they felt blessed, were more than happy with their lot.

While John would be their only son he more than made up for their inability to have more. They were very proud of him, he was polite, respectful, always received good grades at school and often praise from his teachers. His headmaster considered him to be smart enough for University, one of his most promising pupils and shared that fact with his parents on several occasions.

John Bollinger was in fact a young man with not only a plan but the dogged determination to make it happen. That he would go on to become renown worldwide was something he was blissfully unaware of, it was for the best.

John Bollinger did in fact achieve the grades to gain a university place at Lancaster and chose to study commercial law. He was a little over six feet tall, by the age of twenty and determined rather than ambitious. He looked after himself as much to stay fit as maintain his form and was a keen jogger, averaging five miles most days.

While both his parents and close friends had urged him to become a lawyer, he’d had his own ideas. From the online research he’d carried out he’d determined that commercial insurance could be a successful career for those at the top of the tree and that was where he intended to be.

He returned to Leeds during the summer breaks and secured employment at a small firm of insurance brokers within the town centre. It was through necessity, his parents far from wealthy, not that it was something he resented. He was as proud of his parents as they were of him, good, hardworking Yorkshire folk rich in both generosity and spirit.

Aged twenty two he’d achieved more than passable results in the field of commercial law at Lancaster University and while both his parents and close friends had again urged him to become a lawyer, he had stuck with his own ideas having inherited his father’s stubborn streak. At a little over six tall and enjoying average build and looks he’d melded seamlessly into the outfit in central Leeds, but knew he could do better, much better.

Once he’d obtained his degree he sent out dozens of job applications, together with his curriculum vitae. He in fact wrote to each of the major insurance companies within the United Kingdom, the head offices of many based in the greater London area. The first to respond was the Welbeck Insurance group of companies and he wasted no time in responding. He’d applied for a very senior position within the well known insurance companies head office, based within the financial heart of London. The fact that they had responded almost immediately gave him added encouragement and only solidified his determination to pursue his dream.

He was owed free time from his employer in Leeds and two days later caught a train to London, his interview the following morning. His overnight hotel cost him a small fortune, but he was determined to present himself to the best of his ability.

The interview went well, or so he thought and the suite of offices within which the interview was conducted spoke volumes. While understated, both the décor and furnishings reflected a solid and successful company. Much John Bollinger the Welbeck Insurance group and grown from humble beginnings, a single office in Shoreditch, he’d done his homework. They had grown steadily over the years, both quietly and with caution, eventually overtaking much of the competition. They were currently rated the fifth most important insurance company in Great Britain, in terms of turnover, but were in no hurry to advance from that position. It was yet another aspect of the company that had appealed to him, it was clearly not from a lack of ambition, more a continuation of the caution they had exercised from their humble beginnings.

The interview went well, or so he thought and John Bollinger returned to Leeds in good spirits that same day and with growing feelings of optimism.

Was he an overly ambitious person, he asked himself on the train ride back to Leeds and suffering feelings of self doubt, something he was not accustomed too. He thought not, only he had been determined to make the most of his talent and ability and from a young age. Unknown to him and perhaps for the best he would eventually become World famous, though it was not related to his chosen profession, far from it.

He was pleasantly surprised to receive an email confirming that he had been chosen for the vacancy the following morning; the snail mail would soon follow. The official and printed confirmation of his successful application to join the Welbeck Insurance group in London came through two days later.

The position he’d applied for was within the upper tier of management. The fact that the sky was the limit in terms of promotion was what had inspired him to apply for the position and he felt elated. His lifelong dream; supported by his dogged determination was slowly but surely falling into place; something that deserved celebrating.

He had a four week break before starting with his new employers and having saved much of his income from his work in Leeds he decided to book a holiday. He wanted it to be a special holiday, one that would reflect both the fact that he was about to begin the rest of his life, together with the fact that his life plan had begun to fall into place.

He choose as his destination what he hoped would be exotic choice, Cuba. It was not a frivolous move, more a celebration. He was determined to dedicate himself to his new position as studiously as he had his university studies. When he would next enjoy a vacation was well down his list of priorities.

Given his destination of choice he’d need to fly from Heathrow airport London, the train ride but a minor inconvenience; he was setting off for what might well prove to be the holiday of a lifetime.

As in Yorkshire the leaden grey clouds that filled the skies over London seemed low, very low. They seemed almost to sit upon some of the high rise buildings in the capital and that was what he was looking forward to leaving behind, at least for a month.

The airport was packed and seemingly with people from all over the World, did everyone want to be somewhere else he wondered whimsically? Due to the heavy rain and poor visibility his flight was delayed as were many others, in his case for two hours, but it was not a problem for him, he was in no hurry.

It was closer to three hours later by the time the massive Boeing took off and straight into some serious turbulence. He was far from a frequent flyer, this only his second flight, though he overcame his feelings of nervousness, as he had overcome most hurdles and upsets in his life; from sheer determination.

Within minutes of taking off they were in clear blue skies and looked down, could see that the grey clouds covered the country for as far as he could see. He saw the irony; England was a county that suffered grey skies for much of the year, yet not so far above was the sunshine and clear blue skies. He glanced around at his fellow passengers as he headed to the toilets, they were a mixed bunch and shared, he suspected, an average age of between thirty and sixty. That the plane was fully occupied had been a surprise to him, he’d expected Cuba to be an unusual choice for a vacation and very few amongst the passengers looked like businessmen.

He settled himself down once the Boeing had achieved its flying altitude of thirty three thousand feet. Hopefully he’d get some sleep, the flight a long one and his destination still lay many hours ahead.

He was lucky and slept through much of the flight, only awakened by the flight attendant as they approached Cuba. The contrast to the grey skies of England was his first observation as the Boeing 747 began to lose altitude. The skies were cloudless, in fact much the same colour as the Caribbean Sea below. He allowed his feelings of anticipation and expectation free reign, why not such feelings, coupled with determination had served him well in life so far.

He’d booked a package deal, easily the cheapest variation and was booked into a three star hotel in the centre of Havana as part of the package. Even better he would be met at the airport and taken to the hotel, all included within the deal.

He shared the minibus with three fellow brits, all older than him. Anna and Rod were he guessed in their thirties and celebrating their honeymoon and Brad, perhaps in his forties was like him taking a well earned break from his job in the city. He was a banker he eventually found and with one of the bigger banks.

Colourful, exotic, hot and humid best summed up his chosen destination, everything that he hoped it would be. He’d made no plans, happy to take things as they came, though soaking up the sun and enjoying the beaches would be a priority, at least initially.

His first few days in Havana the capital of Cuba passed in a colourful and fun filled whirl, the sea unbelievably warm, the skies a deep shade of blue, the sunsets stunning and the people very friendly, he was even gaining a suntan! He saw little of his fellow travellers and knew no Spanish, but many of the young people he met in the local bars knew a little English and were keen to learn more. There was a sizable plaza within walking distance of his hotel and that was where he spent his evenings. There was a big choice of bars, restaurants and cafés and he gravitated towards those frequented by people close to his age.

He gradually came to know many of the people he met all students and pleased to have the opportunity to practise their English.

He quickly fell head over heels for one young lady in particular, Rosy her name. She was in his opinion stunningly beautiful and three years younger than him at nineteen. She was six inches shorter than him, was perfectly proportioned, unusually pretty and would soon begin studying medicine at the local university. They seemed to gel and fast during his first week in Havana and she was far more liberal than the handful of girls he’d dated in Yorkshire. Within three days she was sharing his hotel room and far more as well.

While he had three years over her in terms of age in terms of sexual maturity she was way ahead of him. He was a more than willing student and was soon enjoying her in ways that were very new to him, disguising that fact well, or so he hoped. For Rosy his lack of experience was something she found cute. It fitted with the stereo type image she had of the English.

The days and nights passed in a whirl, the days on the beach and the nights out on the town. Rosy took control of his wellbeing on the beach and had told him exactly which sun protection and after sun lotions to buy. She also coated him liberally with the sun protection during the day and through her efforts was gaining a tan and avoiding the burn.

The same applied once they returned to the hotel. They would share a shower and once dry she would coat him languidly with the after sun lotion and more. She was easily the most sensual and sexual girl he’d yet met, the application of the sun protection always evolving into something else.

He particularly liked the historic centre of Havana and the huge plaza surrounded by bars and restaurants at its heart; it throbbed with a vibrancy that seemed to match the climate. Equally the warm night air was always sweetly scented, flowers in bloom just about everywhere

He’d taken Rosy shopping on their third afternoon together; she seemed to have only a very limited wardrobe. Rosy, openly thrilled and physically expressing her gratitude seemed to know exactly where to go and he was more than happy to follow her. He was pleasantly surprised at the low prices and equally pleased at her choices, both the skirts and vests she opted for were both stylish daring in their own way.

That night and after another glorious day on the beach Rosy dressed to please both him and herself, their destination again the plaza. She looked absolutely stunning, as far as John was concerned and it was at least forty minutes before they set off, a very enjoyable forty minutes. The skirt she’d chosen, off white was daringly short and showed off her bronzed, toned and slender legs perfectly. To compliment it she wore one of the low slung and loose fitting vests he’d bought her. John was in love he soon realised and for the first time ever.

Several of Rosy’s friends called her way as they strolled aimlessly past the bars and restaurants, John having met some of them previously, while Rosy waved to each of them she seemed to have a specific destination in mind. John was more than happy to go with it, a stranger in a strange land, he was still acclimatising and not only to the climate, but everything. He was finding Cuba even more exotic than the travel brochures had indicated.

He heard before he saw the bar that Rosy was clearly heading towards, the music familiar and little different to that played in downtown Leeds at the weekends. The bar was packed, in fact heaving and with people around their age. He was surprised when Rosy led him inside, reaching the bar a seemingly impossible feat. Not only did she manage it, but with style, clearly well known. Those behind the bar also knew her well and she was soon leading him back out off the bar a cocktail in each of their hands.

They were lucky, found an empty table, surrounded by a sea of tables.

What is this, it’s delicious, John asked her on taking a sip.

It’s called Mojito, a traditional low alcohol cocktail, she told him and predates the arrival of the white man. The white man, John was taken aback by the expression, sure Rosy, as most Cuban’s enjoyed a deeply bronzed colour, but she was hardly black!

John was highly aware that Rosy was sat very revealingly, once he began to relax. The fact that she was clearly unbothered dissuaded him from saying anything, what business was it of his? He suspected he was far from alone in admiring her charms, her deeply bronzed legs highlighting the white panties she had only recently bought. As the night progressed Rosy became ever more affectionate and loving and John began to experience depths of emotion that were new to him, was he falling in love with her and after so little time, he wondered?

The following days passed quickly, too quickly and they settled into a rhythm. Wake up, make love, shower, take coffee and a light breakfast in one of the many café’s then go to the beach. John was already boasting the deepest tan he’d ever yet had. How they spent the evenings varied, but it was invariably outdoors, the Cuban’s seemed to live out doors, particularly during the warm and humid evenings. Entire families from young children to grandparents seemed content to simply sit outside and watch the World go by. John realised that it was not unlike the people of Yorkshire during the so brief summer months.

That his feelings for Rosy were intensifying at break neck speed was something new to him and completely overriding the normally calculated and ordered life style he`d adopted and from an unusually young age. Better still it seemed to be mutual, something that encouraged him still further. Despite the intensity of his emotions the orderly style of life he was accustomed too did not disappear, what future did they have? He began to consider the options available to them, only one making any sense, from John´s perspective, he´d invite her too England, but only when the time seemed right.

They only enjoyed one other night in the plaza and it was as crowded and lively as ever. Rosy had suggested they travel south to a special place she knew of and he offered no resistance, her description of what she described as her secret paradise was more than persuasive. That Rosy was feeling amorous as they enjoyed the ambience was more than clear John feeling much the same and he thanked his luck. While he hoped for a special and exotic vacation before starting off upon his career he´d not included a holiday romance within his expectations. His vacation to an exotic island was proving to be ever more exotic by the day. Whilst more than overjoyed by the depth of feeling he felt towards her and even happier that it seemed to be mutual, only one thing continued to bug him, what future did they have? He knew that as far as Rosy was concerned he´d need to set aside the ordered and pre-planed existence that had to date served him so well. No in that respect he and Rosy were as chalk and cheese, complete opposites, Rosy seemed to live in the moment to the exclusion of all else and it seemed just fine!

Chapter Two

The trip to Paradise

It was on Rosy’s suggestion that they took the bus trip south to her home town Bantamo, though she did forewarn him, it would take the best part of the day. She knew that if they continued a little further south they could take a short ferry trip to visit the northern tip of the neighbouring island of Haiti. It was she told him totally unspoilt and exotic. He was more than game; the thought of spending time with Rosy on an exotic island more than appealing.

The trip south was an education, at least for John. While the country was clearly not wealthy the people seemed much happier and contented than those in London, or Yorkshire, perhaps it was due to the climate, was his eventual conclusion.

Dry, dusty and colourful summed up the rural areas as far as he could see, though how people could cope with the heat as they toiled in the fields was beyond him. He realised that the same could be said of the Yorkshire farmers that worked in their fields during sub zero temperatures. People, the human race was clearly very adaptable.

That he was falling in love he was sure of, even though it was an emotion that was new to him. Despite the heat Rosy cuddled up to him ever more tightly. It was an emotion that he had only previously experienced fleetingly, if ever, but it felt pretty good to him. Romance was something he’d sacrificed at the altar of his life plan and it was a willing trade as far as he was concerned. The fact was he was enjoying his time with Rosy increasingly and their lovemaking was becoming ever more adventurous, was that love? They had slowly gravitated to heavy petting during their brief but intense courtship and he found himself growing ever fonder of her. Now enjoying their close proximity he realised that he was increasingly lusting after her, a rare emotion in his orderly and predetermined life to date. So far she had offered little resistance to his advances and he allowed his imagination free reign.

Unknown to him their destination was very close to Guantanamo an American enclave within Cuba in which they kept terrorists without bothering with the inconvenience of a trial. Rosy never mentioned it, it was a sore point amongst Cubans and he was blissfully ignorant of that fact. It was something he’d only realise once he’d returned home.

The bus trip took most of the day, the sun already sinking when they reached a dilapidated bus station in a small and dusty town. It reminded him of the kind of run down towns he’d seen in old spaghetti westerns.

Rosy suggested that they overnight in a nearby Tavern, John easy, still feeling like a stranger in a strange land. The place she led him towards looked to be in need of a coat of paint at the very least, but he said nothing.

It was not so bad, he discovered once they’d checked in. The room they were led towards was clean but simple, but had all that they needed, even a coffee maker and the ingredients.

They each enjoyed a few hours sleep once settled, the long drive south having tired them even though they had expended next to no energy. Rosy dressed modestly, by her standards once they’d shared a shower, a mid thigh skirt and a tight fitting white vest. They were both hungry, sandwiches and fruit juice all that had been available on the bus and finding a place to eat was their first priority.

John enjoyed what Rosy told him was a typical Cuban meal, rice, beans and a mix of vegetables swimming within a spicy sauce. He was pleased to tell her he liked it, while simple it was surprisingly tasty. The then retired to the air conditioned bar for a couple of Mojito’s, clearly very much a national drink. Both still feeling a little weary, they returned to their room early it had been a long and dusty day. Despite their shared feelings of weariness they made love tenderly, before falling asleep. John’s thoughts as sleep took him were sweet ones, he was, he was sure, enjoying the holiday of a lifetime and beyond his wildest dreams

Rosy woke him quite early the following morning and with a shower of soft and childlike kisses to his face, she was feeling excited, had not been to what she regarded as her little secret bit of paradise in an age. Once showered and dressed they headed downstairs to enjoy breakfast. It was another new dish as far as John was concerned and again tasty. It was effectively a mix of chopped salad lightly fried together with an egg. They washed it down with cooled orange juice then coffee, a style of coffee that John had come to love. He was pleasantly surprised when he settled the bill, on checking out of the Tavern, one dollar fifty for both the room and breakfast!

Not unlike the bus station the nearby ferry boat was far from new and in dire need of a lick of paint. Even so the short trip was perfect, Rosy showing him increasing affection as the Island drew ever closer. The sea was so clear, unlike any sea or ocean he’d yet experienced and teaming with sea life. The thousands of fish he could clearly see below them were so colourful, exotic in fact; a variation of the type people within England stocked their aquariums with.

Whilst their fellow passengers climbed aboard a waiting bus when they docked at a simple jetty Rosy took his hand and led him across the beach purposely. The sand was almost white and very fine, quite unlike any sand he’d previously known. The same was true of the backdrop, a mass of lush and dark green vegetation that stretched inland as far as he could see in any direction

They had been walking for perhaps ten minutes beneath the hot sun when Rosy pulled up, she wanted to cool down in the sea did he want to join her? She didn’t wait for a reply before stripping off the few clothes she wore, with the exception of her panties, before running into the inviting turquoise coloured sea and startlingly white surf. He quickly joined her, already sweating profusely and striping down to his briefs dashed across the hot sand to join her.

He could barely believe how warm the water was, almost as warm as tepid bathwater, but it was the warm welcome she gave him that affected him most, literally leaping onto him and clinging to him like a limpet.

Rosy reminded him of a suntan add as they splashed each other, her golden all over tan seemed to be accentuated by the sea water streaming down her body. Barely pausing she drew him closer in a tight hug and he was aware of both her hard nipples pressing against him and his own growing hardness. She reached beneath the water to rest her hand against him, her eyes not leaving his; a cheeky grin lighting up her face. He felt his desire for her growing and literally and they stayed as they were; locked into each other’s embrace for what seemed an age.

It was in fact scant moments, until she led him to shallower water. She then stepped out her panties and without any hint of shyness, before helping John out of his briefs. She laughed, a wholesome sound, as he looked around nervously, there was not a soul in sight.

He was somewhat embarrassed at holding out for scant moments before his excitement overtook him, but Rosy reassured him, telling him that it was but a test run.

They eventually continued on their way naked and carrying their clothes, John frequently looking around nervously and causing Rosy to frequently suffer giggling fits. She was quite a giggly young girl he realised, it only added to her attraction. No while there was not a soul in sight, being naked in broad daylight was not something he was unaccustomed to. That Rosy was, was more relaxed in her nudity that he was; was more than clear to see. He again realised that he’d struck lucky; Rosy easily the most beautiful girl he’d ever yet had success with, the most liberal too and by a wide mile!

It was maybe fifteen minutes before Rosy told him they were nearly at their destination and he spotted a narrow inlet not far ahead of them. As they drew closer he saw that the inlet had been created by a small river, or wide stream. A little surprised he looked inland, yes there did seem to be a range of hills in the far distance. As they drew closer he realised that Rosy had truly found herself a private paradise, it was truly beautiful and would easily put to shame most of the tantalising photos in most travel broachers.

She clearly knew the area well and he asked her how often she visited the place. She again laughed, she seemed to laugh a lot; another attractive feature; before she told him whenever she could.

With boys, he asked her, regretting he’d asked her almost immediately.

No usually alone, she told him, seemingly unaffected by his prying, but sometimes with girlfriends.

Always naked, he asked again embarrassing himself, though she again seemed unbothered.

Of course naked; who needs clothes in a place like this, She told him almost admonishingly and leading him inland