As the next step in her project to help Neville in adapting to island life, Florence had convinced him to join her in a dip in the sea. After all, what’s life in the Caribbean without swimming in the sea once in a while? 

They had agreed to meet on their day off on the veranda of DI Parker’s shack. Florence arrived already in her royal blue bikini and covered tastefully by a colourfully patterned sarong. She called out to him and waited patiently. After a bit of shuffling and some hesitation, Neville emerged in a pair of sky blue board shorts and a beige towel draped around his shoulders.

“Hello Sir, you look very fetching in your new shorts, if I may say so?”

“Oh. Er. Th-Thanks Florence… Shall we?” Asked Neville, as he gestured vaguely towards the sea across their isolated strip of beach. Florence nimbly untied her sarong to hang it over the railing next to where Neville placed his towel and toed off her sandals, before the pair made their way quietly to the shoreline. Neville kept his eyes locked straight ahead, determined not to embarrass himself again by stuttering and ogling like a schoolboy like he did at Catherine’s bar last week. However, he paused just shy of the lapping waves.

“Are you sure we can’t just go to the community pool? Less things that might bite, sting, or otherwise harm me in some way there…”

“No Sir, it’ll be fine, I’ll be right next to you the whole time, and we can get out whenever you want, ok?”

“Ok then, here goes nothing.”

Neville, reassured, waded into the water with Florence close at his side.

They continued until they were waist deep and stopped to drink in the view. All seemed to go placidly for a short while as Neville gradually acclimatised and they spent time enjoying the cool water. However, after not too long their serenity was interrupted by the unsavoury feeling of something slimy slinking up Neville’s left leg.

“AHH!”

“WHAT? What is it Sir?!”

“There was something, Florence, something touched my foot and-

AH it’s moving! Get it off me, get it off me!”

“Hang on Sir, stay still, I’ll take a look.”

Neville thrashed his leg around in the water, desperately trying to dislodge his slippery intruder and, after what felt entirely too long, he freed himself. In his panic, he looped his hand around Florence’s right arm and lunged for the shore.

“Right, we have to get out of here, move, come on!”

“Wai- What?”

The pair splashed their way back to the beach and emerged from the sea. But, amid his panic, Neville lost his footing on a smattering of pebbles, slipping and tumbling onto the sand. Unfortunately for Florence, her arm had still been entangled with Neville’s. As he fell, she was tugged down with him and toppled onto his side.