Home inprovements

Ok, now a lot of important stuff happened all at once, so I’m going to stop jumping around and try to get it all in. Ok, lies, but It was amazing to see my new home and all the rest of it, so I’m going to indulge in a lot of lengthy description.
We climb out of the boat and, with Vikkie following me, I make my way across the beach and up towards the little hotel. I notice things about the village I had not noticed on my first rain soaked visit. The stained glass window of the church depicting swirling waves in indigo and violet, dull from the outside but probably beautiful when seen from within. To one side of the sundial square is a row of American style mailboxes, all of them numbered but for the one on the end, which remains unclaimed and tatty next to its white and blue neighbours. On it’s side I can vaguely see letters, the remains of a house name, strange by the strictly puritan numerical cottages. “Ocean House” I read, a whimsical name for such a tiny cottage. I thought back to my first impression of the place, how each element of it seemed to have been chosen specially, cost no object. Someone very strange had built a house to shame the dull village and named it for the sea whilst the villagers chosen numbers.
I spotted a note on the door of the hotel that shook me from my thoughts. It was addressed to no one in particular, from Pam, saying that she had gone to the mainland on the morning boat. Although I had not told her I was returning to the island I had wanted to see her again, and was slightly put out by her absence. This feeling quickly vanished beneath dismay as I realised exactly how much stuff I had brought, and how far we would have to carry it.
I hefted the box, our sleeping bags and my bag and began to walk towards the church. Vikkie followed with the folded camp bed, her bag and the plastic wrapped gardening tools I had stowed in her boot after buying them in Bath. I marched up the steps to the path beyond and began to walk steadily along it, to the highest point of the island, where the cottage was situated.
I stop at the gate, gripping the post and breathing in a huge lungful of salt sea air scented with the rosemary of the garden. I ease the gate open, so that Vikkie can pass through after me, and head up the path to the door. Though the wood has swollen with damp making it difficult to open, it is still unlocked. Inside it is exactly the same as when I left it months ago, only the view from the window has changed, as the garden has become green with new growth and the sea beyond the cliff is more placid.
I dump my burden gladly and Vikkie adds her things to the pile. Without the chill wind my face feels hot and sweaty with exertion, and I know my hair is probably half lank with sweat, and half frizzed with salt air. Vikkie looks no better, her face already chapped by the wind. I dig around in the bags and start to unpack the necessary bits and pieces I have brought along. I unroll the sleeping bags and set up my bed, set the plastic boxes of food in the middle of the floor with bottled water and place a candle in a blue glass stick beside them.
“Nice isn’t it?” I say, startling myself in the silence.
“Yeah…just like camping.” Vikkie grimaces “Where’s the toilet?”
Bugger. I knew there was something I’d forgotten.
“We don’t have one, exactly.” I cast my mind about for a moment, as if there is some solution I missed the first time.
“What do you mean exactly?”
“Well I can’t add one to the building, because it’s unusual and protected, so I’m planning to use the camper toilets…” I let the sentence drop, unfinished.
“Which haven’t been built yet.” puts in Vikkie.
“Exactly, they haven’t been, as you say, built.”
“I see”
“Well, the builders will probably bring a portable toilet with them…that’s what they do usually, isn’t it?” I suddenly feel quite hopeful.
“But meanwhile, we have no toilet.”
“You’re just a negative person really aren’t you.”
“Coming from you, Miss I hate university, and people in general and wish harm on them all.” I realise that she is trying not to giggle.
Jumping forward I tickle her furiously.
“No! stop it!…..Now I really need the toilet!”
As it turns out, revenge is best served on a dark cliff, in a bucket you find behind your toilet-less cottage.
　
Wow I’m coming off as really evil....not really much I can do about that without lying.