Page 52 of The Beach Holiday

I understand her frustrations because I imagine if I had carried and birthed a baby and then twenty-nine years later they looked at me blankly and barely spoke, I would be wanting and waiting for a miracle. But I sip the tea and say nothing. The door to the living room opens and there stands Jane and suddenly I feel a little brighter because we spent all that time together in the unit. I am so pleased to see her, my big sister looking out for me and protecting me. But for a long time I had blocked out the memory of who she was. I was told that was part of the recovery process; the brain needs to focus on getting well, so it blocks out anything else to concentrate on that task.

The prospect of staying here with my parents – these people who have so many memories of me running through their minds and scattered around the house – is disconcerting. How am I supposed to act? At the psychiatric unit, I didn’t need to think about who I was supposed to be related to or whose feelings I might be hurting with my apparent aloofness.

My name is Sadie. I went to Fiji. I did something terrible, and the only friend I had ever really known is dead. But I can’t tell them that, and I can’t tell them all the other terrible things I have done because I will be locked away. So I stay mute, nodding in the right places but making out that I don’t remember anything.

They gave my condition a name. But it doesn’t matter.

Because I remember it all. How could I possibly forget?

39

THEN

Avril presented the meat to me an hour or so after I returned from the cliff. The two men were seated around the campfire, their garlands still hanging around their necks, although looking a little dishevelled, their faces easy with kava.

Avril began slicing it and placing it in the pan. ‘It’s sacred, Sadie,’ she would say each time. We ate it so rarely. I had become to accustomed to the ritual.

We were only at the end of month one. I was sure Avril would begin to entrust the preparing and cooking of the meat to me at some point, but for now, she liked to revel in the moment of it all – the catch, the kill, the slicing and dicing, and even placing it in the pan.

I continued to look enthusiastic; I kept playing the role, knowing that I was thinking and feeling differently to everyone else here, that the doubts were growing stronger, but I alsoknew I was being watched now. If I didn’t comply would I end up like Deny and Clara?

I focused my mind on the field to fork. Our food was reared just metres away. That was what life here on the island meant, and being self-sufficient was exactly what Totini was about: living off the resources available. It was how it should be. And that I was thankful for. It was something during a time of such uncertainty.

I had managed to read one more page of the notebook before I realised it was time to start preparing dinner. And I didn’t want to be late, not once. So, I took a shower and began prepping the vegetables. I didn’t want Avril to sense my hesitation at being around camp tonight with the men, as I had avoided her for most of the afternoon – Avril had yet to confide in me about what was going on. But I was desperate to get back to Ula’s diary; I needed to read it chronologically so I didn’t miss any key information that could have been inserted in those first few passages.

Avril finished the meat in the pan and then stood up, brushed herself down, and scooched past me. Her hands grazed my hips as she looked at me. I looked at her, and she smiled softly. I felt a wave of relief that things were good between us, that she hadn’t sensed a change in my behaviour. I wasn’t sure what vibes I was emitting.

Camp began to fill up as the smells from the meat filled the air. Avril took herself to her cabin and stood on the veranda. Precious was draped over one of the men, and the other had about three women all over him. They both sat down close to where I was serving. One of them looked at me; our eyes locked for a second. I wanted to say something to them, towarn them of the danger they were in. I could do that now, change the course of their life. If I stayed silent, I was about to be instrumental in their incarceration. Because why else would Avril have brought them here? My stomach was churning and I couldn’t let it overwhelm me and ruin my appetite. Would Avril begin to question me, see that I was not totally on board?

The men were her little mice to toy with first. They were young guys. Not much into their twenties. They probably had mothers at home waiting for them to call and a pang of sadness grabbed my gut. I wondered what their crimes were in the eyes of Avril, as it seemed she was the one who was instrumental in bringing men here. The kava came out again after dinner and so by the end of the meal I felt as though this was just an ordinary day anywhere in the world where men and women were existing side by side.

I was at the pot wash as most of the other women were preoccupied, still drinking with the men. One of the guys approached. He seemed a little inebriated, but he held his hands out.

‘Can I help?’

He was offering to wash the dishes and already had his hands dunked in the soapy water.

‘No,’ I almost yelped. I didn’t want to engage in any normal behaviour with this man.

‘Oh, okay,’ he said in a British accent. There hadn’t been many of them here and so instantly I felt a pang for home and a familiarity with him.

‘My mum had me doing the dishes from age four, so it’s a skill that’s been hardened into me; even flying halfway around the world won’t keep me away from a dishcloth.’

I wanted to scream. To run away. I looked at his soft skin and eyes. I imagined his mother. What the hell had Avril done? Why had she brought him here?

‘That’s very admirable.’ Not wanting to look at him, I began to scrape some of the debris from the plates into the food bin.

‘I’m James,’ he said.

I don’t care I don’t care,I sang over and over in my mind.Please go away. Please just go away.

He immediately held out his soapy hand. He was looking at me, questioningly, waiting.

‘Sadie.’ I shook the tip of one of his fingers and he laughed.

‘Great name,’ he said.

I felt my insides begin to wobble. I thought I might cry.

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