Modification to the storyline.
Synopsis
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I'm in my big house, alone, somewhere similar to the Hamptons. It's summertime, and I'm waiting for the arrival of a guest who I haven't seen for 20 years. I go upstairs and to the guest room. It's a beautiful day and there is a light breeze coming in the big open window. I can see the ferry approaching. It won't be long now. I don't know how I'll feel when I see her again, I guess it depends on how she feels about what happened, after all this time. But she wouldn't have contacted me directly if she was going to do something about it, would she? I mean, wouldn't she have gone directly to the police? Oh, I don't know, it was so long ago.
I was a teacher at a private girls' school. On one of our annual trips to the South Pacific I led a smaller group on a day trip between some remote islands to study how the inhabitants live sustainable lives.There was only me, the pilot, and 4 girls in a sea plane. The plane developed engine trouble and had to ditch in the lagoon of a small island. The pilot had a broken leg, but the girls and I had only minor injuries. We struggled to free him from the wreckage and got into a life raft and made our way to the shore. The plane sank behind us.
We discovered that the island had been previously inhabited but since abandoned. There were cabins with beds and left-behind supplies, even alcohol, and a garden that was used to grow fruit and vegetables that could be restored.
After a few days we recovered from the shock of the crash and the fact we were in the middle of nowhere. The girls and I explored the island and and realized what a beautiful paradise we'd stumbled on.
I realized with a little work to the cabins and gardens we could make it sustainable, we'd studied how to do it. We ran a buddy system at the school between the newest and oldest girls, so there were two pairs: Beth and Kate, who were eighteen, and their younger buddies, Molly and Grace, thirteen. I was their favorite teacher. We had food and alcohol, and all the time in the world, and it was almost idyllic, except for the pilot, who had become more and more difficult as he drank whisky, and became more lecherous towards the girls. It was lucky he wasn't very mobile, but who knew how long that would last? If only he was out of the way - it would be perfect. I'd have those beautiful girls to myself, and the older ones, well, who knew what could happen? And the younger ones? So pretty, and so good to have them around, but I guess they would have to entertain themselves if I had fun with the older girls. It's not as if I could do anything with them, being so young. I mean, that would be so wrong... Gawd, if only that pilot was out of the way.
(Working on this story - the above is just an outline.)