Page 25 of The Beach Holiday

THEN

Three days passed since Clara’s accident and I still hadn’t seen her.

I had asked, and my requests had been either ignored or brushed off until I felt stupid asking again.

Despite being assured she was being looked after and that disturbing her was not going to help her recovery, I thought about her day and night.

I dreamt vividly of her, and I kept replaying the incident in my mind.

Each time I tried to replace the part where I was in the water alone and I heard commotion, into something more comprehensible.

Putting in the missing piece of the narrative so I could see at what point Clara was injured.

By Kali. Was it pure irresponsible behaviour or a total accident?

I wanted to see Clara because she was my friend, and I knew that seeing people who cared about you when you were unwell was ideal for aiding recovery.

But I was being made to feel as though I didn’t know enough about anything.

And it wasn’t anything anyone had said, just an energy they were emitting.

I was wholly concerned for my friend, and they were not.

I felt the very opposite. This was my new home and I had spent that time trying to get myself accustomed to the way everything worked and trying to fit in.

I didn’t want to stand out as someone who was incapable of adapting to this sort of lifestyle, and it did need adapting to, but I wanted to hurry the process along.

I wanted to be seen as one of them and not some naive little girl who didn’t understand camp life and was still fuelled by old-school ways and ideas.

I wished I was able to relax and get on their wavelength. They didn’t seem to worry about anything. Yet I was panicking that no one seemed to be talking about Clara. In such a small community I didn’t want to be the one to stand out despite how much my mind was on my roommate.

Avril passed through the camp that afternoon and I approached her.

‘How is Clara?’ I asked her.

Avril looked at me and it seemed to take her a moment to register what I was saying.

‘Oh yes, she’s okay. But, Sadie, she has said she doesn’t want to see anyone. She hates the way she looks and feels at the moment. She knows you’ve been asking after her; she’s such an independent thing.’ Avril said the last part of the sentence as if it were an afterthought.

‘But she knows I’ve been asking after her?’

Avril nodded firmly. ‘She does. I’m guessing you won’t want to go back to the fishing anytime soon, so how about we get you cooking?

I know it’s not on the rota for you to cook, but I don’t think anyone would mind this once,’ she said loud enough that the two women I knew as the mothers who were on cooking duty this week had heard.

One flashed the other a look, and then they both looked at me.

‘Sure,’ one said and threw me a tea towel, which I caught. ‘Gives me a night off.’ She swaggered off out of camp.

The other woman looked at me and smiled.

‘I’ve not started preparing anything yet, so it’s all yours,’ she said sweetly, and I felt her calm energy more so than her friend.

The kitchen was a place where many liked to make their mark, and I imagined by now, there were certain women who thrived there.

I couldn’t help but feel as though I had just stood very heavily on their toes, but Avril was keen to let me have a go at cooking, I supposed, as a way to keep my mind off Clara, and I was keen to accept anything that would occupy me and deter my thoughts from the horror of what I had seen.

‘Another chef is exactly what we need here,’ Avril said quietly once both women were out of earshot. ‘It’s not that they aren’t good, it’s just nice to have a fresh input sometimes.’ Her gaze followed where they had walked, then she turned to me and touched my cheek.

‘You are a breath of fresh air, Sadie.’ Avril’s voice was low and husky. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ She kept her hand there.

‘I’m glad I’m here too,’ I said, but as I said it I couldn’t ignore the doubts that had begun growing within me.

Had it started when Avril had lied to me about how long it would take to get here?

Since then I had tried not to let my mind create a monster out of the other things that had cast a shadow over this otherwise beautiful experience.

Yes, Clara had been hurt, but she would recover, and I was in a wonderful place full of beautiful women with so much to give.

Without ever knowing it truly, this was the place I had always meant to end up in.

And because it was never somewhere I had properly envisioned, it was going to take a while for me to fully realise it, to feel it and to relish it.

I had come from a society where everything happened instantly.

Food arrived in minutes; information was at the touch of a button.

Here things were slower. The culture was unfamiliar and I couldn’t have been more back to basics if I tried, and yet there was this part of my brain still pulling me back to the UK, reminding me of the alternative.

‘I think it would be good for me actually,’ I said as Avril dropped her hand away and began tidying up the area around her feet, gathering discarded bits of wood and leaves. It was amazing to see what a difference it made to the small cooking area.

‘There we go, a chef’s kitchen should always be tidy. At least at the beginning.’ She laughed.

‘I want to be where my skills are the strongest whilst I improve at other areas,’ I said. I wanted to add ‘such as fishing’ but I couldn’t bring myself to mention the word as each time I thought of it my stomach started to tie itself in knots.

Avril kept staring as though I was the most fascinating thing she had seen.

‘So, what’s on the menu tonight?’ I asked.

Avril released me from her gaze and looked around her. ‘Eggplant, tomatoes, rice, and pineapple and mango by the looks of it.’

The one thing I would do when I was at home when I was feeling out of sorts, was cook.

I loved nothing more than being in my own kitchen, running my fingertips along the rows of herbs and spices, heading to the market, and picking out fresh vegetables.

There was such a calming feeling that came with this and so maybe if it didn’t mean that I would step on the mothers’ toes, I might be the one to take over the cooking duties from time to time.

I felt it would help me transition from my life back home to here on Totini Island.

Because even on the mainland, I had a daily purpose, a job, places to visit and friends to see.

Here, I didn’t want the monotony to catch me out; to capture me and convince me this was not for me.

I prepared the eggplants and tomatoes on a large wooden board next to the campfire.

I had diced the eggplant and fried it with some herbs.

The tomatoes were sliced ready and I had parboiled long beans.

Once my mise en place was set up, I looked at it with pride, feeling a sense of accomplishment that I had created something, even though it was merely a few pieces of chopped veg.

Something I would have previously done with my eyes shut felt trickier using unfamiliar tools and crouching and leaning on a tree stump.

Avril returned with a slab of meat wrapped in brown paper. I unwrapped it like it was a Christmas present. I looked at the dark red colour, sniffed it.

‘Veal!’ I exclaimed. ‘Did you slaughter this here?’

I thought of the few cows I had seen who roamed freely around the island, mainly sticking to the shades of the trees where they had cylinders of water topped up regularly. I wondered which one was unfortunate enough to have lost a calf recently.

‘We try to eat only meat that has been reared and slaughtered on Totini Island. It’s better that way.’

I picked up the knife again. Avril took hold of my wrist.

‘Here, let me. You’ve worked so hard slicing all the vegetables.’ Avril had such a tender look in her eye and the soft way her hand had embraced my wrist made me instantly let go. I watched as she sat down cross-legged and began to slowly chop the meat into small dice shapes.

‘Is this okay, Chef?’ she murmured without looking at me.

‘Perfect,’ I said quietly. It was exactly how I would have prepared it myself to match the shape of the aubergines, with the vibrancy of the tomatoes, and the addition of the green beans would be a feast for the eyes.

Once she had finished, she stood up, and then she wiped her hands across her bare legs, leaving streaks of blood behind.

I was reminded of Ula’s hut and the bloody handprints all over it, and then I knew it was real blood. But was it an animal’s or her own?

Suddenly the blood, the meat, cutting and preparing in the sun, all felt so primal, the most basic and important form of who these women were, of what they were doing.

‘I’m looking forward to dining with you this evening, Sadie,’ she said before she walked away.

About half an hour later, everyone began to take their places around the campfire and so I tried to look cool and in control.

I had started frying the meat into the eggplant, which was now simmering away in the juices.

The tomatoes, which were marinated in garlic and salt, and the long beans would go in last.

There were murmurings of appreciation as senses were titillated. Avril arrived and seated herself next to me.

‘It smells amazing; you’re such a gourmet.

’ She scoffed the last part in a funny upper-class lady voice, and I leaned into her, appreciating her, thankful she was here, spending time with me.

Suddenly, all the worries I’d had about Avril not being honest with me evaporated, along with my doubts and questions.

It all felt like nonsense when we were all together like this, just existing with the most simple things: a fire, food and each other.