Sophia and Mariposa snuggled down together under the mosquito netting. They didn’t need any other covering in the warm weather that was normal on the island. Last night’s rain had made the lushness of their island home just that bit more lush, and the perfume of the flowers was intoxicating.

A small lizard perched on the windowsill, except that there was no window. Just an open place where a window might have been had they been elsewhere in the World.

There were sounds from the spare room where Enrique was obviously getting ready for the day.

Sophia jumped up a bit more quickly than she had intended, but greeted her new stepfather with a kiss to his cheek.

Enrique returned the kiss to her forehead and patted her naked bottom kindly.

“I could get used to this he said.”

“I hope you will.” She replied with a smile.”

“Can I borrow your airer to get my last night’s wet clothes dry?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You will have to excuse me today. I have to work on the array repairing some of the cabling that something has chewed recently.”

“Of course. I will be entertained by Mariposa who will show me this small property you mentioned.”

“I will make some coffee and there are some sweet rolls, butter and jam to dunk into the coffee.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Mariposa emerged looking as if mornings not her best time. She took a cup of black coffee and disappeared into the composting toilet that was a discrete distance from the back of the cottage.

“She is not a morning person, it seems.”

“Not ever, since she was a girl.”

Sophia followed Mariposa into the toilet as soon as Mariposa emerged. Mariposa sat with her father drinking coffee and dunking the soft white rolls in it and slurping the result.

“Sorry, that is not very ladylike to slurp like this, but it is just the best way to eat these rolls.”

“Who bakes the rolls?”

“There is a woman who makes all the bread and pastries. She has a large cottage and several other staff. With an island of 4000 people they need a large amount of bread and sweet pastries. They are either delivered to the shop or delivered directly to people’s cottages. You can also visit. She has a small sales counter there as well.”

“They are very good. I shall enjoy finding her kitchen and visiting.”

“Just follow the smell of baking bread during the morning. She shuts up shop in the afternoon. She is called Justine, and her sarong is covered with French Sticks and Danish Pastries”

“That seems appropriate. Advertising as well as a name.”

“Does she look like the Queen of Hearts?”
“Yes, a bit. She says that she always tests her products before sending them out, and she does sell a lot of products!”

Sophia emerged dressed in her work clothes including the steel toes boots.

“I must get on. I hope you have an enjoyable day together. Have a look at the cottage, and perhaps try the organ in the church. I think you will be on duty this Sunday for the first time.”

“It will be good when I can get my own keyboard so I can practice here.”

Sophia was away for the day, and Enrique still had some things to do before they could leave. Mariposa got dressed in her sarong and busied herself with the kitchen and bedroom until her father was ready.

Shortly afterwards her father emerged smiling and saying, “I can smell baking pastries. Lets go and see what we can find.”

They only needed to walk a hundred yards to find the bakery. The front was open and the two travellers could see six women working away with a hairnet, a blue striped apron on and good shoes.

Justine came forward with floury hands. She wiped her hands on her apron showing that the apron was all that she had on, as long as you didn’t count a hairnet! She was the epitome of a baker with rosy cheeks, hair tied back into a bun, a muscles that could kneed different breads with both hands simultaneously.

She had a smile that would have softened an ogre’s heart and she certainly softened Enrique’s. He would have bought samples of everything there, had Mariposa not suggested that he had bought enough to restock Sophia’s kitchen for several breakfasts to come.

After Enrique had paid the modest sum involved, Justine turned on her heel and showed a very ample pair of buttocks to the two visitors.

“Phew” was Enrique’s comment. “There is a woman if ever I saw one. I know that your mother is hardly in her grave, and I miss her, but when I was fifty-ish we had talked about what either of us should do if the other had died. We both agreed that it would be wrong to mourn our lives away.”

“Sophia told me that Justine is a widow, so she is available if she tickles your fancy.”

At that point some black smoke issued from the bakery.

Justine and her staff rushed out coughing.

“I am so sorry for that display. That is a batch of cakes that are ruined. That electric oven sometimes loses its thermostat setting and the temperature goes much too hot, and everything burns. The smell of burnt cakes affects everything else we have made that day as well. I cannot afford to buy a new oven. It is becoming desperate as the Island depends upon me.”

“How much would a new oven cost?” Enrique asked.

When he was told, he gave some thought to the problem.

“I appreciate that you are really important to the village and I think I can help with the new oven”

“Give Mariposa the details and we will keep you informed of how we get on.”

Justine broke down in floods of tears.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough” she cried into her apron then clasped Enrique into a rib crushing hug that also coated him with a film of flour.”

With the apron being used to mop her eyes, there wasn’t a lot of Justine that was not visible.

“You have made a hit there.” Mariposa said. “Are you going to take that any further?”

“I have lots to think about with selling the apartment and moving here, but the idea is attractive. She is my type of woman.”

“Please get the new oven ordered for me. I would love to see what Justine can create when she has the right equipment.”

“I think, that you think, she has the right equipment already, from your reaction to her with her apron over her head!”

“I am many years older than her. Why should she be interested?”

“Only because you are interested in her business and she comes as a part of that business.”

One of the staff came over and asked if he was really going to buy Justine a new oven.

“Of course. I would never make a promise that I could not keep.”

The woman also burst into tears and gave Enrique a hug. She was followed by the other five workers. All had tears at the thought of their jobs being secure working for a woman they cared for.

Mariposa looked on her phone and found the right model. Showed the image and details to Justine and ordered it on the spot using her father’s bank card.

It was time to move on.

As they walked away Enrique commented that it was making him weak at the knees to have so many women’s chests squeezed against him.

Next was the grave.

Enrique sat on the ground near the almost fresh mound of earth. A small wooden cross had been pushed into the head end.

“Your’s was not a happy ending to a not very happy life. I wish your mother and I had done things differently, but it is too late now. I shall not add a stone headstone to your grave. No one knew you here and the acid soil will soon return your remains to it. I hope you rest in peace, but I am far from certain that you will.”

Mariposa was standing some metres away from her father, but when he was finished, she came forward and supported him away from the grave.

“Lets go and look at the cottage. That is a happier thing to do.”

The cottage was on the second row of dwellings behind the beach. It still had a view of the sea but a partly obscured one. Someone had been and painted the wood blue, and the corrugated iron roof was in good condition. The was a veranda facing the sea and an open space where a window might have been leading to the bedroom. There were shutters in case of storms.

There was a tiny kitchenette and a pleasant lounge with another view of the bay. The main entrance was at the side and went into the kitchen. There was a tiny shower room with another opening that lead into a lean-to building for the composting toilet.

It was sufficient for one person who didn’t have many belongings.

“I can see what you mean about not needing much to live here.”

“You will need a bed, a chest of drawers, a table, a couple of dining chairs and perhaps a desk.”

“How do I get the cottage made available to me?”

“See the Mayor, but I think you will need to be named to become a resident.”

The Mayor agreed that Enrique would need to be named, and that happened two days later. He ordered a sarong with various cogs and tools on it as he had been a engineer in his working life. Mariposa insisted that he had a small loaf of bread incorporated in the design. The sarong would arrive in about a week. James and Coral would look after it until he returned from the mainland.

Next they went to the polytunnel where they had a very pleasant light lunch. They talked about their plans and how things had changed so much in just a few weeks. Mariposa was able to give her father a breakdown of how she felt about Sophia, and just one tear trickled down her cheek when she explained how she hadn’t thought that she could live if Sophia had rejected her.

“What will happen if the two of you decide that you want children?”

“We haven’t decided finally, but local couples are chosen by their parents so that there are as few chances of genetic problems as possible. That doesn’t apply to us. I think we may just choose a local man and persuade him to father a child on one of us. Probably with me.”

“Do you think a local man will need much persuading?”

“No not a lot, but we need to choose very carefully and to do that we need to have lived here for some time.”

“That is a good idea. Either choose someone you don’t know who will disappear from the child’s life or choose someone you do know who is a reliable and intelligent resident. In that version the sperm donor can retain some interest in the child. One of the men in gay couples may be suitable.”

Mariposa took Enrique back to the cottage where he needed a bit of a rest, but she went down to the Church, found the organ covered in a large oil cloth and began to play. Brian came out from wherever he was working and gave her the hymns for the following Sunday. They were straightforward music and she was soon comfortable with the organ and the music. She covered the organ back up with the oil cloth and returned via the shop with the makings of dinner for the three of them.

Later, after a satisfying meal with Sophia, they discussed the day.

“What made you just buy a new industrial oven for the bakery on the spur of the moment. Wasn’t that rather rash?”

“Yes, it was spontaneous, but the bakery is so pivotal to the Island’s success that it wouldn’t survive so easily if it had gone out of business. Also I could afford it now we are selling my apartment and my living costs are to be much lower. Again, I applaud Justine’s hard work. I may be over eighty, but I could easily see myself going into a business partnership with her.”

“Not a sexual partnership? I noticed how much you enjoyed being hugged close to her chest and your eyebrows shot up when she lifted her apron to blot her eyes.”

“No one in their eighties should try to be a husband to a much younger woman. I would not have the endurance to satisfy her and I would not do that.”

“Do you not think that she should have the choice in that.”

“Yes, she has the choice, but so do I. I am only recently bereaved and am not ready for that sort of adventure, but I will really enjoy seeing someone who I already admire being able to do the things she is very good at. If that means something more might happen between us later then I am not against it, but it would be a stupid octogenarian who thought that they could remain interesting to a woman half his age.”

“Fair enough, but I saw your reaction to her and I think as the saying goes ‘that there is life in the old dog yet. We all saw you have to rearrange your sarong after she hugged you.’”

“Now you are embarrassing me.”

“OK, no more embarrassment … at least for now.”

Mariposa laughed.

“So how was your day, my love.”

Sophia was still in her work clothes.

“I can get used to being called ‘My love’.”

“That is what you are, so that is what I will call you.”

“Yes, I got two solar panels upgraded with new software and went round all the panels and greased the articulation points where the stepper motors turn the panel to face the sun. The grease doesn’t last more than a few months in the humidity, heat and salty air.”

“I will go and have a wash now and change into something more comfortable.”

Sophia emerged shortly afterwards in her sarong.

The trio sat on the veranda of the cottage and watched the sun set and the myriad of stars come out as the milky way asserted itself on the night sky.

“I don’t think I will ever tire of this view.” Mariposa commented as she ran her fingers up Sophia’s thigh where the sarong had fallen open.

“If you continue to do that you will only have a view of the ceiling in the bedroom.”

“Promises, promises.”

They all laughed.

“I think I am getting in the way”, Enrique commented.

“You may be, but there is plenty of time me looking at the ceiling later.”

As they chatted a huge yacht sailed into the cove and moored at the small harbour. There was obviously some sort of party going on with lots of young people dancing on the decks and the yacht was bedecked with coloured lights. A gang plank was lowered and several people got off the yacht. The loud contemporary music could be heard at the cottage nearly a mile from the yacht.

“The music must be deafening for James and Coral and the children.”

Within minutes a small gaggle of teenage girls had gathered nervously round the gang plank and one by one they were invited onto the yacht.

Sophia had some binoculars used for her work and she watched in horror as children as young as twelve were given what appeared to be Alcopops and there were suspicious bowls of white powder arranged around the deck.

Enrique used the binoculars after her.

“This is a fishing trip.” he said.

“What is a fishing trip? the two women asked.

“Wealthy men attract young girls with a yacht like this, then get them drunk and rape them. A few are offered a life of luxury that would take them away from the safe, bur rather mundane life of growing vegetables and feeding chickens. When they are hooked on drugs, they are put into the many brothels in the Capital and there they remain until they are worn out. Their wasted bodies are found regularly on the city dump riddled with disease.”

“What can we do?”

“We must rush down and find the parents. It is only they who will have any influence over their children.”

The three ran down to the harbour as best they could and whilst Mariposa tried her best to stop any more children from going on board, the other two got the Mayor who hadn’t realised what was happening. He told the parents. Luckily each sarong identified the child so the task was made a bit easier.

Realising what was happening, the crew lifted the gang plank to stop the parents getting on board. Several parents had to shout over the music to get the attention of their children and many jumped over the side and swam for the quay.

Whether it was a matter of neglect, or lack of attention or being glued to a television programme, the parents of two children were watching with headphones to drown out the noise. Their two children remained on board and could be seen as the yacht left the bay. They were being carried down below deck, obviously comatose.

When the Police got round to interviewing the crew of the yacht, they denied any knowledge of the girls and there was no evidence on the yacht of them ever having been there at the Island. In the darkness, the photographic evidence from several cheap camera phones was not good enough to prosecute anyone, and children went missing all the time in the slums of the Capital. Two more street children was not a big concern.

Some months later a bemused starving boy was found wandering in the red light district of the Capital. He had transitioned and had been discarded by the criminals. He needed surgery to correct the damage done to his anus by the brutality of the gang who had taken him. He remained a most traumatised young man who was prone to self harm after he had returned to the Island. He was one of Mariposa’s first clients, and if the truth be told. He was really an enormous challenge.

The girl was found on a rubbish dump two years later. Her body was wasted by disease and she had received many cuts from beatings. Her body would appear to have been used to stub out cigarettes until someone decided to get rid of it. Perhaps when it started to smell. It was only a particular deformity of one of her teeth that identified her, so that DNA could then prove her identity formally.

The Island had a meeting in the main square to discuss the events from the week. It was decided to run a strong chain across the harbour entrance and to only open it for the steamer. Any larger ship wanting to visit had to phone in advance and then the chain would be removed. Room was left for smaller vessels and the fishing boats to enter and leave unhindered.
The population was shocked by the events and the main decision was to provide a wired telephone from the cottage where Mariposa and Sophia lived, it rang in the Mayor’s home so the alarm could be raised more easily.

The general level of unrest on the island gradually lessened and soon it was time for Mariposa and her father to leave to close their affairs in the city on the mainland, but in a month father and daughter were travelling back to the Island. Their properties were empty. The Realtors’ had the keys and their attorneys had Power of Attorney to complete the sale of both properties.

Mariposa had three large suitcases, plus the case for her keyboard. Her father had only two large suitcases plus a box of treasured books that he could hardly lift.

A new bed and a small suite of furniture had been delivered to Enrique’s cottage on the previous steamer and James was keeping the items in store for Enrique.

The same journey on the steamer had brought the new oven for the bakery and Sophia had wired it up safely to the network.

James was able to help erect the bed and furniture from their flat pack boxes, and within a couple of hours the cottage looked homely in a masculine sort of way.

Various residents visited Enrique that first day living on the island.

Firstly a lady who had made his first sarong arrived. She said that he should try it on and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Rather reluctantly he stripped off in front of her. She tut tutted about his reluctance, but she knelt in front of him arranging the garment. He enjoyed the view and she noticed and smiled at the obvious swelling in the sarong.

The Mayor was next, who welcomed him and asked if everything was to his liking. Upon being assured that it was, he went away and completed his paperwork to show that Enrique was now a resident. He would now be charged a very modest amount for rent and electricity.

Next came Justine with a welcoming cake. She cut him a slice of the decorated sponge.

Enrique asked “I wanted to talk to you about the bakery. I was pleased to be able to help with the oven, but you are so important to the village and Island that your business needs to be more secure.”

“You are right in that there are weaknesses in the business plan, but I don’t have a partner and many things have to be left undone to keep the business producing bread.”

“Shall I make us coffee to see whether there is room for some more cooperation?”

“Certainly, but can I also suggest that we take off our sarongs. It is not good form for a guest to remove theirs if the host does not. If sarongs are worn indoors when sitting in easy chairs then they get creased and stretched.”

“They both stood and removed the sarongs and folded them carefully.”

Enrique put his folded sarong on the side of his new bed and Justine did the same, one beside the other.

“What does this mean with one sarong next to the other?”

“It means that we are friends.”

“Ah, that is good.”

Are there other arrangements?

“Yes. If you put my sarong on top of yours then it is an offer to take our relationship further, and if I put your sarong on top of mine then I am giving you permission to make love to me.”

“A language of sarongs it would seem.”

“Yes indeed. And almost every image on a sarong has some extra meaning as well.”

Enrique was unable to suppress his body’s reaction to Justine’s body and offered his apology.”

“Think nothing of it. It is quite normal.”

“Can you think of the business in that condition?”

Enrique laughed.

“Yes, I think so.”

“How do you think you can help with the business?”

“I think you are doing very well with what you have, and are making a reasonable profit as far as I can see. Do you do your accounts yourself or does someone do them for you?”

“I count as a micro-business, and taxes are charged on the materials I buy rather than on my gross profit. I do the books for myself, but unless we doubled our turnover I would not need professional accounting.”

“Is it something you would want to do? Does the marketplace on the Island warrant it?”

“There is certainly room to increase sales to families and to the Boarding House. I also supply the Steamer on its return journey to the mainland.”

“Do you do any savouries like pies and pasties?”

“I do for major Saints’ Days and for religious festivals like Easter.”

“How would you like to expand, if you want to.”

I don’t particularly want to expand, but the damaged oven gave me sleepless nights. My employees were worried about their jobs and I didn’t want to make anyone redundant. We ruined batch after batch with that wretched thermostat that didn’t work. What I really want is someone to share the good side and the less good with me. Someone to be supportive and also be a sounding board for new ideas.”

“It looks as if you need a business partner.”

“I could use a business partner, but I am tempted to think of something more.”

Justine got up and was just preparing to put Enrique’s folded sarong on top of hers.

“Please do not do that … at least not yet.”

“I am still grieving for my wife. I think about her every day. I am also perhaps forty years older than you. I know that shouldn’t make a difference, but it does, because I don’t know if I can satisfy you as husband. I am very happy to support you in the business and be a close friend, but I am not ready for a greater commitment. The sarongs should stay side by side for the moment, but if we became betrothed in the manner of the Island, then you are exactly the person I would want to be betrothed to. I find you beautiful, and given other circumstances I would take up your offer without any reservations whatsoever.”

Justine sat down again without moving the sarongs.
“I shall enjoy your visits to the bakery and we will discuss the cakes and pastries we will produce together and maybe you will change your mind when your grief is affecting you less.”

“I have still not finalised the sale of my apartment, and neither has Mariposa. We need that settled first, then I can enjoy living here. I would love to wake up each morning with you beside me, but I just cannot take any more complication in my life at the moment.”

“I quite understand. My moving the sarongs was really a way of saying thank you for what you have done already, but I can see that it was premature. Please forgive me for trying to push too hard.”

“Of course I forgive you. I would love to have you by my side for as many years as I have left. You are exactly the type of woman I would bed if I was younger.”

Justine got up and gave Enrique a big hug and a kiss. “Thank you for being you.”

“It is, and will remain, my pleasure to help.”

Justine put her sarong back on and gave Enrique one final hug before leaving and going back to her bakery.

As soon as she had gone, Mariposa arrived.

“I stayed on the beach as it seems as if it would have been rude to interrupt.”

“ Please have some cake. It is delicious.”

Over cake, Enrique explained what Justine had offered.

“Really she was offering herself as that is all the collateral she has, apart from goodwill present in the business. It is really touching, but you were right to put her off. Many men would have just been happy being enveloped in those arms and being clamped to that chest of hers. I can imagine what she can do with those thighs. It makes me aroused just thinking of them.”

“Down, girl, you are already spoken for.”

“I think you will accept her offer in time.”

“Maybe you are right. She is certainly a very attractive woman. If only I was younger I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“What shall we do for lunch? Go back to the café in the polytunnel or buy something in. When we have no commitments on the mainland we must apply for a patch of land to grow our own fruit and vegetables. We will have to do something with the contents of the composting toilets. They do not empty themselves.”

“What about Sophia’s and your cottage?”

“There is a very overgrown patch of land attached to the cottage. I have already applied to borrow the community cultivator to clear it then I will compost the plants I dig up.”

“I may need to use the cultivator as well.”

“I am sure you will, if you get a plot of virgin land.”

In the next few months Sophia, Mariposa and Enrique learned about growing things in a tropical climate. The plot attached to the engineer’s bungalow was about a hectare in size, but Mariposa cleared all of it of weeds and planted heat tolerant plants like okra, sweet potatoes, yams, eggplants, chilli peppers and yard long beans. There were several rows of pineapple, Lemons. Passion Fruit vines were allowed to climb up various bushes and Paw Paw added later.

The garden became her pride and joy, and with at least three crops a year in the tropical weather and rain almost daily. They could live on the produce for much of the time.

Enrique got his plot. It was quite small but he managed beetroot, a few currant bushes and french beans as well as a small cherry tree to sit under.

… but lunch had been forgotten for the moment. Thinking about the future would not fill an empty belly and for the time being the shop and café were their only source of food.

Eventually they bought in some bread and cheese from the shop and settled down to a sandwich lunch with lots of cups of steaming black coffee.

“How do you see you developing the psychotherapy here? was her father’s question as they relaxed over the meal.

“It has been made clear that there are perhaps six young men who transitioned badly and need some support. The community will give me some financial assistance as none of them have an income in the sense one would mean it on the mainland, but I will never get anything like what I could charge over there.”

“I know the doctor and nurse wear a white coat when they are on duty. Presumably that is partly for cleanliness in a surgical environment, and partly to maintain a professional distance when they are dealing with medical matters. Hew do you think you ought to dress in a professional environment. A short sarong that has a tendency to fall open does not provide a professional distance, and a white coat is too ’distancing’, if that is a word?”

“I hadn’t given it any real thought, but there is a longer type of sarong that covers the chest and is calf long. Perhaps done in a plain neutral colour, it would be a halfway house between the overly familiar and the professional. We will go and visit the ladies who make the sarongs and take their advice.”

Father and daughter walked in a leisurely way over to the large cottage where the sarongs were made. It was a hive of activity with perhaps a dozen women and a couple of men painting or embroidering the felt that was used to make the sarongs. They were met at the door by one of the three designers. A woman in her fifties one would guess.

Celeste walked briskly up to the couple.

“How can I help you both today?”

Mariposa explained the problem as she and her father saw it. Familiar clothing that did not create barriers but maintained a professional distance.

“That is a problem that has not occurred in a long time. Let me show you some of the solutions from the past and then we can discuss it further.”

Celeste guided them into a back room where many old unwearable sarongs hung limply on rails.

“This is our archive of worn patterns that we use from time to time. They are all falling apart, but we recover them from the owners when they are no longer fit for use and put them in our museum here.”

“Here is a long sarong that was used when there was a visit by the lady mayor of one of the cities on the mainland. It was pink with a brown vertical stripe. You can barely see the stripes now. It was intended to be worn with a full set of underwear so had to cover all the straps that that needed.”

“That is too formal for what you need.”

“I think that you do need a sarong that reaches above your bust to maintain professionalism. If you are dealing with young men who have male feelings but yearn to be girls again your body is a challenge to them. I know one of the young men who might be one of your clients. He desperately needs to resolve his difficulties, and a nubile woman’s body is something he would find particularly difficult.”

“I am glad we came to you. Your wisdom in these matters is clearly very important.”

“Thank you for your confidence. Let’s look further along the rail.”

“Some years ago we had a Government Office here. The clerk didn’t have much to do and the office was eventually withdrawn and what the Clerk did is now done by the Mayor. She wore a two piece sarong with a long top from above her bust down to her waist, then a matching sarong down to her calves. The top was elasticated and reduced the appearance of her bosom when she was sitting at a desk with a standing client who could see down the front of her sarong.”

Here is the outfit. It is very faded now but was plain sky blue as she hadn’t been named. Would something like that suit your professionalism?”

“I have much to learn, but I do think something that has an androgynous form and doesn’t emphasise my femininity may be a good idea. Before making a final decision I will talk to the Minister and see how he deals with young people in a one-to-one setting. I know he wears a plain black sarong and clerical shirt and collar.”

Have you thought of wearing a standard mainland blouse or shirt and a plain sarong, in a way, like him?”

“That is perhaps the best idea. I have plenty of mainland clothes like plain blouses that would tuck into a sarong.”

“Then I think your mind is made up. What colour would you like?”

“Plain pastel blue, I think.”

“I think it is really important to help these young men and you are their best hope for a meaningful life, so I will have the plain sarong ready for you tomorrow.”

Mariposa gave Celeste a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for you wisdom, Celeste.”

“I hope you have every success.”

“She is a nice woman, Enrique commented as they walked away from the sarong shop.”

“They are all nice women (and men). I have not met residents who are unpleasant here, so I don’t know where these troubled men hide. I may have to visit them in their homes to be able to reach out to them, but I also need a safe space where we can meet without being overheard and the cottages on the Island with no windows and doors are not ideal.”

“I believe there are empty cottages a little distance away from the village that could be adapted by importing windows and doors.”

“Lets go and see the Mayor to get his take on things.”

It was office hours for the Mayor, so they got in to see him before very long. The problem was explained.

“I know exactly what you are saying. We need a space that is not too far from the village for safety reasons and has privacy. Not, I regret to say, easily accomplished. Now I am just going to throw out some ideas. You will need to have someone within earshot whenever you meet with a client for their safety should they become upset, and for yours. That rules out the more isolated cottages, like where you live now. There is an unused shed round the back of the sarong making workshop that one could approach without being seen. It has a large door for storing props for a winter festival we used to celebrate. Come with me and we will see if it can be adapted for you.”

The Mayor grabbed a key off a key rack and slid a panel across to show that he would be back in 30 minutes.

“There are not many keys in use here!”

It was only a short walk to the shed. The visitors could hear singing from the sarong workshop.

“They often sing as they work. I sometimes come here and stand outside to hear them singing.”

The shed was upright, but that is all that could be said for it. It was a lean-to construction that had rather more leaning involved than the builders had intended.

The door opened with a creak when the padlock had been removed. Inside was dusty box with no windows filled with spiders webs and a fair amount of clutter.

“This is worse than I had remembered. No electricity or other services. Could this be adapted for you?”

“The position is good and the size is good but it needs substantial rebuilding to be serviceable.”

“Let me phone our resident carpenter and see what he thinks.”

Mark, the carpenter was working nearby, and was able to pop in to give his opinion.

“Mark, we need a space for Mariposa to work with clients that is easy to get to without being easily seen, then has privacy for confidential meetings. This building is ideal for position and size but that is about all.”

“The building needs demolishing and rebuilding if it is to be used for therapy sessions. The Committee could instruct me to do that, and it would take about six weeks for me and a lad to rebuild it with windows and a door. The electrics would be up to Sophia. Do you want water and maybe a chemical toilet?”

“The toilet would be nice, but why not a composting toilet?”

“The land is not deep enough here to allow a composting toilet to be installed, and the water table is too high.”

“I have an idea, Mark added. We have thought many times of having a library or pre-school playgroup area in the village. A space of this size could be used for part of the time for those and Mariposa could then have fixed blocks of time for her sessions.”

“That sounds a positive suggestion. Please cost the proposal out for the clearance of this site and the installation of a joint use building for both Mariposa’s important work and community use.”

“How would that suit you Mariposa?”

“As long as I had, say five slots a week for therapy sessions then I think it would suit both me and the community. I think playgroups and pre-schoolers would need more than one chemical toilet with diapers to deal with.”

“Good point. Any suggestions, Mark.”

“It depends upon what you need and can afford. It would be possible to have some sort of septic tank arrangement but that will need more thought. Maybe two or even three Porta-john (Portaloo) type facilities would work. They are light weight to move and access for emptying is at the back. They are easy to clean and can plug into an earthed power source.” I can have one or two of them with a drop down changing shelf for the babies.”

“That seems to be the best way forward then.”

“I am afraid that this will take several months to complete, Mariposa. What about you, Mark, when could you start?”

“I can clear the site next week. The building materials will be delivered on the next steamer in ten days time. The Toilet facility will take probably two months to arrive but can be installed in a day. It should be possible for about six men to move it from the dock to here without any problem.”

“What about shelves for books and boxes for the storage of play equipment?”

“We will cross that bridge later. The walls will support shelves and I can make toy boxes from materials I have here.”

“That all sound very satisfactory. We will have to look at the Island finances, but with the block grant from the Government and the rents for the cottages for those with an income, we should be fine.”

Mariposa and Enrique drifted away as the Mayor returned to work in his office.

“What shall we do now?”

“Perhaps go and watch some sport on the TV.”

“OK, yours or mine?”

“Yours I think, much closer, but I must be back at the cottage for when Sophia gets home.”

“Of course.”

Mariposa returned by the quayside where she was intent on buying some fish for their supper. Two of the fishing boats were tied up at the breakwater, but all did not seem to be well.

Mariposa gave the crews a cheery wave, but only got a desultory nod back.

“What’s up.” she said again cheerily.

The crew were looking at part of that day’s catch. The fish were not healthy. The amount of meat on them was much smaller than normal and they had a larger burden of fish lice than normal as well.

“We don’t know what is happening. We are getting more of these unhealthy fish from the lagoon area or just over the place where the ocean shelves down to the deep .”

“I wonder if that is anything to do with that yacht that sank there two years ago.”

“The yacht went over the continental shelf and sank so deeply that nothing was recoverable, including the bodies of the crew.”

“That is true, but I wonder if something being carried by that yacht could have been lost into the sea water and is causing these problems.”

“Leave it with me. I will do some research and let you know later. If you can afford to do so, please do not sell these very thin fish.”

“I don’t think anyone would buy them. The cats can have them.”

“If there is some contaminant in the fish it may be better for the cats if they do not eat them either.”

“Having said that I have noticed that the cats round the harbour have been more unsettled recently.”

Mariposa took the fish she had bought and climbed the hill to her cottage with a rather heavy heart. She knew that the yacht that sank probably carried a large consignment of cocaine in sealed plastic bags, but also knew that the huge pressures of the benthic deep would crush or at least damage the bags. As she thought the problem through, she wondered why the problem was only becoming noticeable several years after the sinking.

She was deep in research on the Net when Sophia came back from work.

Mariposa brought Sophia up to date with her research so far.

“There are known problems with sea life in areas where sewage outflows occur. The standard sewage treatment does not remove Cocaine and Heroin, or their derivatives and it enters the sea in many places. There is also a problem with illegal drug manufacture in rural areas where waste material leaches out into the environment.”

“Contaminants are absorbed by plankton and then pass up the food chain and can be seen in top carnivores as the drugs are concentrated in their muscles and various sense organs. The affected animals are less effective at hunting and are more easily caught and enter our food at that point. Filter feeders are affected even more strongly.”

“Are you saying that the Cocaine that was on that yacht is causing these problems. What is it only happening now?”

“There is very little exchange of water between the deep ocean and the surface water. There is no light and very little oxygen. It is only there where there are hot water vents that water moves much and circulates minerals. I would think that the Cocaine would stay very close to the remains of the yacht for months or years and it is only now that it has managed to diffuse in sufficient quantity to the surface layers to affect the animals.”

“If that is true then we have to think hard about what to do. The sea is the livelihood of our three fishing boats, and a major source of protein in the diet of our community.”

“I think the first thing to do is see Bart, the doctor. It should be easy to test some of the meat from the affected fish with something called Cobalt thiocyanate. It has a rapid colour change when mixed with a mixture containing Cocaine. It is a simple and will not make people worry if the result is negative.”

“It may be a good idea to ask the fishermen to avoid fishing where the yacht sank. One does’t need to say about illegal drugs, just say that there may have been oil with additives that is leaking out of the hull.”

“As soon as we have eaten and I have changed we will go and see Bart.”

Bart was just finishing his own meal, but welcomed them into his cottage.

Mariposa went through the whole story as she had discovered it.

“What you have discovered reinforces my own observations about behaviour in some of the children who live nearest to the sea and play on the beach most.”

“Do you have any of this Cobalt thiocyanate reagent here?”

“It is a quite unusual chemical for a doctor to hold, but I do have a packet of sachets from a course I did some time ago. I don’t know if it goes out of date, but we can try it.”

“Will it work on sea water?”

“No, the water would be too dilute.”

“What about fish muscle?”

“It might, but we might also get a false positive with other chemicals in the muscle.”

“If there is widespread contamination of the ocean with Cocaine, we must think of the consequences and what can be done before pressing every alarm button that we possess.”

“I think we need to involve the Mayor and James, and Coral to add their wise heads to the mix.”

So the small group divided and the Bart went to talk to the Mayor, and Mariposa and Sophia went to inform James who left the children with Coral. They all met at the Mayor’s office.

Bart started the conversation.

“We know about the yacht sinking, and we know that it was carrying a substantial amount of Cocaine. We know that the packets were not designed to last in deep water and have either split or the contents have leached out. It would have taken months for the water in the benthic plain off our coast to mix with the coastal sea round the island. When it did leach out it would have been absorbed by various small plankton and then would have moved up the food chain and ended up in the dominant fish, like sharks or in humans who ate them and also in scavengers like the cats who live round the harbour and feed on the offal and scraps left by the fishermen.”

“We need to get some positive proof of contamination. How do we get that?”

“I have been giving some thought to that as we waited for this group to assemble.”

“I think the only sure way with the limited resources I have is to test a harbour cat’s urine.”

“How is that done?”

“Grab a cat. Put a towel round its face and claws then put a dish under its tail then stroke its belly firmly towards its tail to compress its bladder. Vets do it all the time to test for feline diabetes.”

“Are any of the cats privately owned or are they all feral?”

“I know several of the cottages that are not too far from the jetty that have resident cats.”

Eventually an owner allowed the team to test urine from her cat who lived entirely from fish waste from the boats. The liquid in the sachet turned blue.

The owner was asked to keep quiet until the morning to save frightening people. She was married to one of the fishermen and didn’t want to harm his work. So agreed.

Now we have a clear answer, and the fisherman, who had seen the positive test and the emaciated fish agreed to keep quiet until they returned from the next day’s fishing. He would also ask all three captains to fish on the other side of the island that day, saying that there might be some oil leakage from the sunken yacht.

The Committee returned to the Mayor’s office.

Our next question concerns the action we need to take, or not take, as a consequence of this.
“I know there are a few houses on the other side of the island. Do any of them have resident cats?”

“Yes, we can visit in the morning. I only have three more sachets but that would be a good use of one of them to see how far the pollution goes.”

“What about swimming.”

“From what I have read, there is very little risk to humans from swimming. The main problem is with eating shellfish and other molluscs, shrimp and shark meat.”

“OK, so no ban on swimming near the site where the yacht sank.”

“Do we ring the emergency number.”

After some thought the Mayor answered. “I don’t think so. We know that off the coast of Brazil the level of contamination of shrimps is so high that every shrimp caught in recent years has a measurable amount of Cocaine or its derivative, benzoylecgonine in it. What can the authorities do? No one can reach the sunken yacht even in a submersible; a bathysphere would be needed and even if they could reach the wreck they would disturb the cocaine and mix it even better with the seawater. With the level of corruption on the mainland I find it quite extraordinary that we have not had a visit from one of the drug cartels on the mainland looking for information or money or the drugs.”

“Then we bring the fishermen up to date and swear them to secrecy, then quietly guide people away from picking mussels or limpets from those rocks, or beach casting for fish from the rocks in the bay. We can say that some of the fish being caught near the rocks have contamination and it is best not to eat them for the time being, and keep our eyes and ears open for any worrying trends.”

“How long do we have to wait before we can carry on as normal?”

James felt he was able to answer the best of the group.“It obviously depends on the quantity of drug, and how many packages have leaked and how badly. Cocaine is very soluble even in salty water and whilst the fish and other animals will retain and concentrate the cocaine, the time will be limited. The fish will become ill and die more quickly than unaffected fish and the creatures lower down the food chain will die within a year or two anyway. I think the cocaine will disperse in the autumn storms and an El Niño event will mix the water as well and dilute the cocaine.”

“Can we not test the water?”

“We could if we had a sophisticated laboratory and a team of technicians, but we can do bioassay on samples. That may not be as sophisticated but will show the effects of a relative level of pollution rather than an absolute amount.”

“What is a bioassay?”

“We take a few fish, mainly the smaller species of sharks from the area where the yacht sank and look at their muscles and liver under my microscope. There are observable changes in fish livers of affected fish. When we don’t notice any fish or other animals with abnormalities for a while, then we are clear of contamination above the background level.”

“How long will that take?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“What about the lost protein from the Islander’s diet?”

“The fish from elsewhere round the Island should be fine, but we can check and plant-eating fish should unaffected. The high concentration of cocaine has really only been noticed in the shark family, and it is those fish that have to keep swimming to oxygenate their blood. They die if they are too much affected by the drug and stop moving.”

“What about the feral cats?”

Bart commented … “The fish offal must be burned. The cats must not get it. The behavioural changes may mean a child gets bitten or scored by their claws. I might prefer to have all the harbour cats put down, but I think there would be an outcry, and vermin would flourish.”

“I agree with you. Is there anything further that we can do today?”

“Probably not. We need to call an Island meeting tomorrow before the fishing boats return.”

“We will produce a leaflet to hand out with a sketch of the affected area.”

The group dispersed with many thoughts on their minds.

Justine wandered over to Enrique’s cottage after dinner and they sat on the veranda watching the sun go down. They discussed the bakery and how Enrique could help. It seemed that Justine was just not the sort who gave up on things quite so easily. They had a good evening and after dark, shared a goodnight kiss.

Sophia and Mariposa snuggled up to each other, but their minds were troubled by the meeting and its consequences.

The Mayor, James and Coral were equally concerned, even fearful, of the day’s events, but eventually drifted off to sleep.

Bart had faced problems for as long as he had been a doctor. He thrived on solving them. He slept well.

The Island slept … unaware of what tomorrow may hold, but the sun rose as normal and the fishing boats left for their journey to the other side of the island. Chickens were fed and fruit picked. The smell of the bakery was enticing, and the noise of singing from the sarong workshop made everyone smile.

Everything seemed normal …except.