Page 27 of The Beach Holiday

THEN

My blood ran cold for a second, then I reminded myself that I was on an island with many other women and I could shout at any moment, and someone would come running.

I had nothing to fear. This was probably one of the children who had escaped the clutches of their mother at bedtime and was now trying to prank me.

‘Okay, come on out little one.’ I held my cool, the kava in my system giving me confidence.

‘I know you’re in there. Please come out.’

I heard a rustle then another twig snapping then a small bare foot appeared.

Next, a small torso and then a head. Of what appeared to be a small boy of about five or six.

I had only seen the one boy here before and the girl.

This child also had dark hair and piercing dark eyes to match.

Who was he and why hadn’t I seen him before now?

‘Hello,’ I spoke. ‘I’m Sadie. What’s your name?’

He just smiled inanely.

‘Are you lost?’ I asked.

The little boy looked at me, sniggered and then scuttled back into the bushes again.

I stood there looking at the empty spot where he had just been and wondered if I had imagined the whole thing.

The kava was well and truly doing its job; my veins tingled, and I felt small bursts of euphoria and so I laughed out loud at the absurdity of it.

How had I not yet seen this boy already?

He must have stayed hidden away; maybe he was more feral than the others.

He certainly seemed it the way he jumped into that bush like a gazelle.

I turned back to the path to the beach and kept walking until my feet were no longer on dusty earth, but pure white sand, and the sound of the waves were immediately lulling me into a meditative state.

I really didn’t need anything else but this.

I wondered how long I could be happy here for and live with so many unanswered questions.

I had my reservations – that was for sure.

There was happiness and contentedness here, but there was something else, lingering in between each sunrise and sunset.

I could align it to the general lack of interest over Clara’s injury for example, or the way Kali looked at me, and refused to hug me like all the women had, or maybe even the absence of men.

I had seen no hysteria over Clara’s injury, instead an acceptance for what it was.

Kali didn’t stand around the fire and tell her tale to the group, revelling in the drama and attention.

No one spoke of it or questioned it the next day and no one had mentioned it since.

It was only because I had asked that I was given an update.

Perhaps their emotions had numbed, but it felt too pragmatic to me.

Maybe it was one I would adopt over time and I wasn’t sure I wanted that.

There was a sense that they had all slid into a state of obscurity here and that they had, whether consciously or unconsciously, adopted a new set of life rules. Some might feel threatened by it, scared even. I wasn’t sure how I felt yet, but I was aware of it.

The next morning I took my usual route from the cabin to the front beach to listen to the sounds of the waves greeting me and I sat and absorbed the negative ions, to set me up for the day.

It was the last thing I had heard last night and the first thing I would hear this morning.

It was usually the two mothers I saw when I woke as they were already up with their youngsters.

No sign of the little boy from last night though. Had I imagined him?

I approached the first mother first. Her name was Star.

She told me that wasn’t the name her parents had given her at birth, but when she came to Totini she gave herself a new name and everyone had called her that for years.

It backed up my theory about them having their own set of rules here, and how anything was possible.

‘Morning,’ I said as I approached her.

‘How are you today?’ She smiled. I wasn’t sure what her accent was.

It sounded a mix of South African and Australian, and I guessed she was the sort of woman who had travelled a lot in her time.

She was still young-looking. A rash of freckles adorned her cheeks and nose, but I would have said she was older than me by seven or eight years.

‘I’m well, thank you. Hey, I was walking last night, and I stumbled across a young boy.’ I was sure I saw Star’s lips pursed suddenly and momentarily. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining him what with the tiredness and kava—’

‘You didn’t imagine him,’ Star said seriously. ‘He lives here, mainly in the forest areas. We leave food out for him to collect. He drinks from one of the rain barrels.’

‘But whose son is he?’ I pressed.

‘His name is Adi. His mother abandoned him.’

‘Adi. That’s so sad.’

Star nodded. ‘He won’t let any one of us near him. Hester and I, we’ve tried to mother him, make him one of our own, but he has problems, learning behaviours, social issues.’

‘Neurodivergent,’ I said recognising her descriptions.

Star shrugged. ‘Who knows. There’s no one here to diagnose him and he never lets any one of us near him for long enough. How was he when you saw him? I haven’t seen him for a few days.’

‘He was sweet. He stood in front of me and smiled. Then ran away.’

‘He smiled? Wow, that’s more than I’ve ever got out of him. He must have liked you.’

I felt a warm feeling wash over me, and then the same feeling I’d had when Avril had prepped the dinner with me and praised me for my culinary skills. Just like Ula, he was an outcast of sorts. Maybe I could be the one to help him? I would definitely be on the lookout for him again.

I carried on walking down to the front beach and looked at the risen sun and wondered what the day would bring.

Each one here seemed to offer something new, yet the framework was the same.

Get up, eat breakfast, do chores, eat lunch, rest, or play, prepare dinner, eat dinner, sometimes sing and dance, then bed.

It was a very basic existence when you broke it down to that.

I got back to camp just as breakfast was being served. A sweet coconut rice pudding with cinnamon and slices of papaya. I took a seat and began to eat as a few more women meandered into the main camp area.

I saw Avril rise from her hut. She saw me and made a beeline for me.

‘I wanted to see you before breakfast.’

I was holding my bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. I had taken one mouthful. She crouched down next to me, and I felt her arm brush against mine. She smelled sweaty from the night before. I could hear her breathing.

‘I wanted to let you know that Clara passed away in the night.’

My body suddenly felt weightless, and my arms went limp. The bowl and spoon almost slipped from my grip.

‘Dead?’ I said to clarify that passing away did mean the same thing here.

‘Yes, dead.’

I looked down at my lap at the breakfast that had been so enticing a few moments ago, which was now unappetising.

‘But. She got harpooned in the foot, I ... I don’t understand why she would die?’ My voice was shaky and high. I wanted to cry but no one seemed to show any emotion like that here. I already knew that a death was not something that would devastate anyone.

‘I know this is hard to digest this early in the morning. We didn’t think she would make the end of day yesterday, but I didn’t want to spoil your evening as you were in your element cooking.’

I glanced at Avril. There it was again, that nonchalant approach to something so serious.

‘No, Avril, you should have told me.’ I saw a flicker in Avril’s eyes as my firm voice seemed to penetrate.

‘A spear in her foot, how did she die from a spear in her foot?’ I said. My voice was beginning to get louder and I felt the stares of some of the other campmates. Did they know she had died?

‘I’m afraid Clara refused her antibiotics and became very ill very quickly.’

‘But you said she was fine and doing well.’ I knew I was crying now and I couldn’t stop my tears and nor should I, because Clara was my friend. I tried to take a few deep breaths.

‘I didn’t want to worry you. We all hoped she would pull through without the aid of medicine.’

I sat for a moment, trying to take it all in.

Suddenly an image of Clara and Avril outside my hut that first day here resurfaced.

She had been distraught. Avril had comforted her.

I thought about the moment I had walked in on her in the hut, where she had tried to conceal something and also her emotions, but it was clear she had been crying. Now she was dead.

My mind was reeling. Avril crouched next to me, patiently waiting for me to speak again or to answer another question.

But I remained quiet until she finally got up, touched my shoulder briefly and walked away.

As I sat, unable to find the words to say how I felt, I saw a cup of kava that had been left out from last night.

I picked it up and drank. Images of Adi, the little mute boy, and Ula, the faceless woman from the shack, were now fresh in my mind, where before they had been hiding in the shadows.

And now I could add the face of Clara, and I felt their silences echo my own.