Page 23 of The Beach Holiday

‘I was scared,’ I said. ‘Tony, and other men like him, they frighten me.’ The anger was ripe in my voice.

‘But you still stood your ground. You didn’t give him what he wanted or try to appease him,’ Avril encouraged.

‘I suppose I didn’t.’

‘Can you see then, what we are capable of? And there is so much more to come. I want you here, Sadie. I like you very much.’ Her eyes were locked on mine. ‘I can see you have had troubles, that you are in recovery from some kind of trauma. It is palpable; I can literally taste it. Here you will recover. Here you will grow. Here you will change; in many ways, you won’t recognise yourself. You are a chrysalis about to evolve into a beautiful butterfly.’ Avril was holding my hands now. I looked down at them and on her wrist where I clocked the charm bracelet again. I looked at all the little pendants. I saw a dog, an umbrella, the letter A, a butterfly, and a Christmas tree, and that cupcake again. I wondered who had given each one to her and for what occasion.

I felt a slight fizzle in my tummy because no one had impacted me with their words in that way before. Not a teacher, not my parents and never a boyfriend. Yet this life was all I had ever wanted. But I had allowed myself to be held back. Bruno had held me back; he had tried to prevent me from evolving into a butterfly. This was what life was all about, lifting one another up. Yet despite all the uplifting words and this feeling of sisterhood, in the back of my mind I thought of Ula and why she was excluded from it all. All I could see was an image of a faceless woman I had never met.

That night in camp there was music. This time it was guitars, and there were some small conga drums being played. I was pulled to my feet by a tall black woman, who had been introduced to me as Paula. She was French and danced me into a frenzy as if her life depended on it.

When she spun me around for the final time and I thought I was going to fall over from dizziness, Avril was at my side.

‘Hey.’ She smiled.

‘Hey,’ I said back to her.

‘It is customary for the new residents to dance with everyone,’ she said.

Before I had chance to speak, she had pulled me into her, so our hips and chests were touching.

I let her lead.

‘That way, no one will feel jealous, as if they have been left out.’

She moved well and there was a real strength in her arms around me as we made our way about the camp. Every now and then I caught the flicker of the flames from the fire out of thecorner of my eye and I could feel the beat of the drums in my chest. There was a seriousness in her face that I had not seen since we had arrived. Her grip was on my hip yet every now and again I felt her move her hand or a finger just an inch. Then, she looked down at me and smiled, more with her eyes than her lips, and I felt airy and light as though she might lift me off my feet any moment. I tried to remind myself that this was a moment, another core memory in the making.

Feel the beat, and feel the moment, Sadie,I reminded myself. These were the things that I would store away for eternity. Being here with these women, no restraints, no rules.

It all suddenly seemed so raw and primal. Here we were, just a handful of people existing together, with no technology and nothing but each other for company, my body pressed against that of a stranger.

Despite feeling as though I was enjoying myself on the outside, on the inside there was a fizzing in my gut, of nervous energy that just wouldn’t dissolve. There was so much yet that I didn’t know about everyone here. I imagined each person and the years’ worth of life stories they had to say about themselves. I wanted it all now; I wanted them all to know me already, to trust me. I wanted them to like me. But other thoughts conflicted with the wants and the needs. The ifs. What if they didn’t like me? What if I didn’t fit in or meet their expectations? What if I too went mad like the elusive Ula? What if I were cast out?

But somehow, I knew that wasn’t to be my biggest worry. I could already feel the power of Totini, the deep pull of the island, as though it already had me in its grip, and no matter what happened next, I knew it would not want to let me go easily.

15

NOW

Jane didn’t visit me this week. There was a message on a piece of paper in her place left on the bench. She had to visit a friend in the hospital. I wondered if I had offended her last time. I hadn’t answered her question about having lived in a hot country and maybe she thought that was rude. I should have given her a response. But when I heard the question, my body froze, and the words wouldn’t come out. I have noticed that happening a lot lately. But I hadn’t mentioned it to Dr Bhaduri. I got the feeling that he already knew things that weren’t completely normal were happening to me. But he didn’t push to get me to reveal them to him. He must be on a good wage and the longer he spent with me, the more he made. It seemed he wanted to drag out our session for his own benefit. Was that a terrible thing to say? Were there psychotherapists out there who genuinely wanted to do a good job and help people? I had thoughtthat I would be pretty good at that job, especially as I was good at sitting and listening. I could do that all day. That’s what I enjoyed doing with Jane: listening. But she went and spoilt it and asked me that question, and now I think I may have ruined a good relationship. Probably one of the only relationships I have these days.

I made a promise to myself that if Jane’s hospital appointment was genuine and she was back on that bench next week, then I would tell her one thing. Maybe she could make some sense of it. It would make a change from talking about coffee and the weather. Because perhaps if I told her something it would make room for all the other things that were squabbling for space in the depths of my mind. They had been dormant for some time; I had to admit I wasn’t even sure I had any thoughts left. But suddenly it was as if they were all waking up and fighting for space to stretch their tendrils and touch the corners of my mind, forcing the words down to the tip of my tongue where they would spill out. I would let them, I thought, because holding on to them was painful and I didn’t want to be in pain anymore.

16

THEN

After four days I was assigned my first task.

Kali sat down by the fire with me after breakfast and brought out a blackboard I had seen propped up in various places around the camp. It was split into sections: cooking, cleaning camp, toilets, general maintenance and fishing.

I looked at her. ‘It all seems pretty basic,’ I said.

‘Well it is pretty basic isn’t it? I mean, there are times when the workload feels heavier, when people are sick or there is a lot of extra maintenance to catch up on, but lucky for you, we just dealt with a whole load before you arrived,’ she said and I felt the accusation in her voice, as though I had chosen my timing perfectly.

‘I was just expecting much more I guess.’ Then I looked around the camp and realised that things were simple. The lifethe women had made for themselves here was self-sufficient, but the island offered them everything they needed.

All the squares on the board were empty.

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