Page 35 of The Beach Holiday

‘I tried to warn you,’ Avril said.

I carried on washing the blood from my skin, using the natural sea exfoliation to feel clean.

‘Was that Ula?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’ Avril sniffed nonchalantly. ‘I don’t know why she’s out of her hut. She rarely leaves her hut. Especially at night.’

I stood up and dried my hands on my shorts.

‘But why does she live there? Why has she chosen to live alone?’

‘Because men are bastards,’ Avril snapped.

I was shocked into silence.

‘Don’t you see, Sadie, it’s always the men. It was too late to save Ula, but it’s not too late for you. Think of Bruno, think of Tony. They can’t be the only ones who treated you like shit, am I right? We have to take a stand.’ She stopped and panted. ‘We have to take a stand,’ she said quieter, her shoulders hunched, and I thought for a moment she was crying.

Then she pulled her self upright.

‘Sadie, mental health problems still exist even in Totini. Ula is unwell in her mind and there is no one who can help her. We do what we can for her, accommodate her ... ways – and that is that.’

We tried to finish our picnic after that, but I could almost taste the blood on my hands. We gave up and walked back to the camp. As we walked Avril talked about the meals she wanted me to try next week as she has access to some new types of vegetable. I was barely listening. I was thinking about how angry Avril was, about the men. I thought of Bruno and Tony, and I understood it wasn’t right how women had to suffer daily, whether it was a misogynistic comment or gender-based violence. I wanted things to change, I wanted women to be safe and to know equality. Yet I didn’t feel as angry as Avril was in this moment, as though she carried her anger like a cloak she was never able to shake off. Tony, Bruno, all the other men, they weren’t here; it was a wasted emotion to feel that about someone who was so far away from me now. Any anger that still simmered away within me, was at Avril for how Clara had been dealt with, and how I wasn’t allowed to see her. But I suppressed it as much as I could.

But why did Avril still have all this pent-up rage for men when we lived in an all-female commune? Wasn’t that the wholepoint – to live freely? We had rid ourselves of them. It didn’t feel that Avril was living free of them; it felt that they were still wrapped around her neck; whoever had done whatever to her to make her dislike men so much had created this incessant hatred of all men.

We stopped outside Avril’s hut. It was late now and I could see a few women in the distance making their way to their cabins.

‘You must learn not to worry about so much, Sadie,’ she said and then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. Only for a mere second, then she pulled away and walked into her hut without looking back. Leaving me standing there again, the way she had after the dancing on my first week, with a cocktail of emotions I was unsure how to deal with.

I slept fitfully that night, fuelled by enigmatic dreams about the kava, my strange encounter with Ula, and my frustrations with Avril. In my dream, I found Avril’s face among a small crowd. A man had a guitar. He was strumming a song I recognised. I smiled at her. She smiled back, a wide toothy grin. She came over to me and pulled me up from my space, where I had been sitting on the sand.

‘Come and dance. Come and dance.’ She pulled me to standing. We weaved our way to a space away from the others. I felt awkward, and people were looking at us.But they don’t care,I tried to tell myself; even in my dream, I found some confidence.

I took her in my arms and swung her around; she threw her head back and laughed, and the people on the table looked up and smiled. Then I was swinging her so fast, a power wascoming out of me that I didn’t know existed. Then she lifted off the floor and flew. Initially she had a smile on her face, a half-stoned look, but then it changed. She realised she was going too fast; she was going to hit the rock on the sand.

And then she did. Blood splattered where her head had hit it. She looked at me, an expression of betrayal and confusion. Then she stood up and began to walk away. Quickly at first, then slowly. She turned and she looked down at her feet. They had blood all over them; she had blood all over her hands. Then she started running towards the sea and was out of sight quickly. I ran after her but she was gone. But I could still hear her. Her voice whispered my name.Sadie, Sadie,over and over until I woke up.

25

THEN

I had been lying in bed, listening to the rumble of thunder in the distance. I had seen one strong storm on the mainland, but this was going to be a very different experience. I had heard the cockerel, I was sure of it, which meant it must be after 4a.m. The thunder came, louder this time. I thought about the sky and how the air was desperate to be cleared, like my runaway thoughts. Maybe once the storm was over, my mind would be calmer.

I pulled on my rain mac over my shorts and vest and headed out to stand near the beach so I could get a front-seat view of the storm when it arrived. It was still dark. The sun would rise soon, but we wouldn’t get much light today.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw a figure moving through the camp. I turned suddenly and saw it was Kali. She was moving swiftly, pulling on and moving and retying ropes attached to a large tarpaulin cover tied between several trees. It fell gracefullydown on three sides to create a shelter. Kari had arranged it so it now covered a vast area of the camp, including over the fire and seating area. We would have somewhere dry to sit later other than the kitchen area or our cabins.

‘Hey, Kali,’ I called.

‘Storm’s coming,’ she said without looking at me. I had felt the chill from the rain and now from Kali, but this wasn’t unusual. I had come to accept that not everyone could like everyone, even if we were living in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

I hadn’t thought much about storms since I had been here, only the white sands and glorious endless sunny days. But I guessed it had to break eventually. I felt a pang of worry. What if the storm turned bad? What if the shelter wasn’t sufficient? What if there was a tsunami?

Kali turned to me as if sensing my energy. ‘It’s a small one. It will only last a day.’

‘A day?’ I said hardly able to believe what she had said.

Kali didn’t respond; she just continued to tug at the ropes to secure the tarpaulin.

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