Page 6 of The Beach Holiday

THEN

The second small, simple boat hurtled across the waves towards a tiny spec of an island in the distance.

We had been aboard for thirty minutes and there was another thirty to go from what I could gather from the snippets of English I had heard the driver and his skipper speaking.

We were the only four aboard, and I had my mobile phone pressed tightly in my bra against my chest, as I had felt the unease with which these strangers helped us onto the boat.

With the language barrier came stalled social skills, and so grew the intensity of their stares.

I prayed this was their attempt to interact and not the prelude to a long and grizzly murder.

I tried to catch Avril’s eye a few times, but she was leaning on the edge of the boat staring at the horizon again.

Mesmerised. She seemed far more relaxed than I felt but maybe I should step up to the post and be the confident travelling buddy she probably needed me to be.

Especially once we hit the ground again.

I focused on the spec of land up ahead and I began to feel a flutter of relief that we would indeed have our feet on solid ground again very soon.

To distract me from how fast the boat was travelling, I thought again about Avril and how I knew very little about her, yet I did sense that she was seeking a deeper connection with something or someone.

That was her mission, which was the journey she was on. And now I was on that journey with her.

I wanted to do something different, to prove to myself that I was worth something more. More than a handful of poorly constructed insults spat at me in anger.

The island was becoming bigger and bigger as we descended upon it, and I grappled with swaying emotions of dread and excitement as I looked at the lush greenery, rustic beach, and sparkling white sand.

Eventually, the boat powered down almost to the shore, and the driver and skipper began saying something to us in Fijian whilst pointing their hands at us and then at the shore.

Avril was up and alert, looking at me.

‘Paddling to the shore again from here; they will carry our luggage.’ She began to throw one leg over the edge of the boat and then the other until she was submerged up to her thighs.

‘You got all that information from a few hand signals?’ I said, surprised yet impressed.

I followed suit and felt the warmth of the South Pacific Ocean lap at my legs.

I ran my hands through the water and looked up at the perfect blue sky.

If I thought the last island was perfect, I truly now had arrived in paradise.

I took a moment to absorb the intensity of what was happening and how far I was from the mainland.

From real civilisation. There were no huts on this island.

No children swimming in the shallows and only a couple of men mooring a fishing boat.

Once we were ashore, I stood and looked around and then at Avril, who was standing with her hands on her hips, surveying the island.

I turned back to the boat and watched as the men waved at us, then turned the boat around and sped away.

I looked at Avril, who had begun pacing the island.

She looked nervous now. If there was one thing that would disperse my nerves, it was seeing someone else on edge and knowing that I could calm them by appearing relaxed – even though right then, I felt anything but relaxed.

I approached her and touched her arm. She stopped pacing and smiled at me.

‘Hey,’ she said merrily although I could see the tension in her eyes.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Sure. Tired though. How about you?’

‘Same.’ I looked around again at our surroundings, the island where we would be staying for the foreseeable, and wondered what we were to do next. I had presumed someone would be here to greet us and for a few panicked seconds, fear overcame me. What if no one came? What if we were stranded here?

But before that thought had time to embed itself, I heard a whistle and two women appeared and were walking along the beach towards us. Avril and I stood patiently and waited for them to reach us.

One had dreads that reached her lower back and she wore a long strappy white dress and had bare feet. The other was wearing a dirty grey-looking vest and khaki shorts, a tanned muscly upper body and short brown hair. Both had naturally brown skin.

‘Hey, Mamasita!’ they both said in what sounded like Spanish accents, slightly out of sync with one another.

Avril walked to them and the three of them fell towards one another, their arms tightly bound in a circle, their heads pressed against one another, as though they had just become one.

I could hear low mutterings; I presumed the women were exchanging their greetings.

It was an unusual sight, not the way I had seen women embrace back home, arms flung around one another haphazardly, sometimes dragging one another off their feet, squeals of joy.

This was something else. Refined. Restrained, yet somehow so intimate.

I watched, not wanting to intrude as the moment drew out.

‘Hey,’ I said, stepping forward, ‘I’m Sadie.’ The circle unfurled.

The short-haired woman beamed. ‘I’m Mary; this is Kali.’ She pointed to the dreaded-haired woman.

I threw out my hand in expectation of a handshake.

Mary looked at it, and a strange expression clouded her smile.

She looked at Avril for a split second, then she approached me, took my head in her hands, and pressed it against hers.

Her forehead was damp with sweat. She let go, then Kali moved forward and repeated what Mary had done.

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say so I stayed still and tried to smile but it felt like an inane grin.

She turned to Avril. ‘And how are you? How was your journey? You must be exhausted, both of you?’

I let out a long sigh. ‘We are, completely, aren’t we?’ I looked at Avril, but she had locked her eyes on Kali and didn’t seem to have heard me. The two women seemed to be exchanging words with only their eyes. They sensed I was watching them and Avril looked at me.

‘You must be hungry? I have a fresh platter of papaya and mangoes waiting for us,’ Kali said.

‘Sounds delicious. I’ve been fantasising about a cold glass of beer and a fan.’ Kali and Avril exchanged another glance and I felt silly for saying that.

‘Okay, well the heli is waiting around the corner. Shall we get going?’

I choked out a laugh. ‘The what?’

I looked at Avril for confirmation that I hadn’t just misheard what Mary had said. Heli. She said the heli was waiting.

‘As in the helicopter?’ I asked.

Avril looked at me and shrugged her shoulders as though this were an everyday occurrence.

Mary turned and began walking followed by Kali, and then finally Avril turned with a wink. I trotted to catch up with them.

‘So this isn’t Totini?’ I said to Avril.

‘No this is Kenco Island. I’m sorry for any confusion.’ Avril turned and smiled at me but she was marching with such ferocity I was struggling to keep up. I noted suddenly how strong her calves looked in her rolled-up harems as the muscles flexed with every step. I grabbed her arm.

‘Hey,’ I said. She stopped and swung around and stared at me. ‘What’s going on, Avril? You told me it was one boat ride. We’ve done two and now we’re going on a helicopter? Do I have to pay?’ I thought about the few measly Fijian dollars in my backpack and the small figure in my bank account.

She said nothing but looked at my hand on her arm. I let it fall away.

‘Just one more ride. This is the last. I promise.’

‘So one more ride?’ I asked, now feeling despondent.

‘Yes, one more.’

I then thought back to what Avril had said that afternoon in the bar in Nadi. She had said it was a boat ride away. I was sure of it. I couldn’t help but wonder why she would have not fully explained how far away the island was.

‘And once we’re there, you can relax, have something to drink, get settled in your accommodation.’

I liked the sound of the accommodation. But I was unsure of getting inside a helicopter with three women I barely knew and moving out into the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I had no idea what to expect but surely there would be little in the way of communication and certainly no Wi-Fi.

All I knew was that I was going to be grateful when I did arrive and that I would make sure that I was showing gratitude.

Avril was, so far, a bit of an enigma. But I had taken the chance.

I had put my trust in her. I just needed to have faith.

Because I was getting further and further away from anywhere I could call home or civilisation as I knew it.