‘Goodnight, chérie. And joyeux Noel.’’
I tucked my mobile back into my shorts, then put my arms around my knees and rested my head on them, thinking how hard this Christmas must be for her. Us girls could move on to a future – or at least, we could try. We had more life ahead of us than we’d already lived, but Ma had given hers to us girls and Pa. I wondered then if she’d actually loved my father in a ‘romantic’ way, and decided she must have done to stay on for all those years and make our family her family. And now we had all left her.
I then wondered if my real mum had ever missed me or thought of me, and why she’d given me to Pa. Maybe she’d dumped me in an orphanage somewhere, and he’d collected me from there because he’d felt sorry for me. I was sure I’d been a very ugly baby.
All the answers lay in Australia, another twelve hours’ journey from here. It was beyond weird that it was one country in the world I’d refused point-blank to visit, even though Star had quite fancied going. Pathetic that my spider nightmare was the reason, but there it was.
Well, I thought as I settled myself down on the sand, Pa had called me ‘strong’ and an ‘adventurer’. I knew I’d need every ounce of those qualities to get me onto that plane in two weeks’ time.
*
Again, I was woken by tickling across my face. I brushed the sand away and sat up to see the Werewolf walking to the sea. Wondering briefly how many maidens he’d eaten in the past few hours, I watched his long legs make short work of the sand.
He sat down at the water’s edge in the same position as last time, with me directly behind him. We both looked up, waiting for the show to begin, like we were in a cinema. A cinema of the universe . . . I liked that phrase, and felt proud of myself for thinking of it. Maybe Star could use it in her novel one day.
The show was spectacular, made even more epic by the fact that there were a few clouds around today, softening the rising sun as it seeped like a golden yolk into the whipped egg whites around it.
‘Hi,’ the Werewolf said to me as he was walking back.
‘Hi.’
‘Good one this morning, wasn’t it?’ he offered.
‘Yeah, great.’
‘Don’t think you’ll be sleeping out here tonight, mind you. We’re in for a storm.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed.
‘Well, see ya around.’ He gave me a wave and wandered off.
Back up on the terrace a few minutes later, I saw Jack was setting up breakfast. Nam normally did this, but she still hadn’t been seen since Christmas Eve.
‘Morning,’ I said.
‘Morning.’ He gave me a guilty look before he said, ‘Sleep well?’
‘Not bad, Jack.’ I beckoned him towards me and pointed to the retreating figure on the beach. ‘Do you know him?’
‘No, but I’ve seen him a coupla times on the beach late at night. Keeps himself to himself. Why?’
‘Just wondered. How long has he been here?’
‘I’d reckon at least a few weeks.’
‘Right. Is it okay if I go up and take a shower in your room?’
‘Sure. See ya later.’
Having showered, I sat on the floor in Jack’s room and sorted through my rucksack. I divided clean and dirty clothes – the dirty pile being the vast majority – and decided I’d drop them off at the laundry on my way to find a room. Then if the worst came to the worst and I ended up outside in a storm tonight, at least I’d have some clean, dry clothes for tomorrow.
Even though there was no such thing as Boxing Day in this part of the world, everyone wandered along the narrow alleyway of shacks that passed for shops, looking as they did in Europe: like they’d over-drunk, over-eaten and were fed up because they’d opened all their presents and the excitement had passed. Even the normally smiley laundry lady looked grim as she separated the darks from the whites and shook out my underwear for all to see.
‘Ready tomorrow.’ She handed me the ticket and I trudged out. Hearing a vague rumble of thunder in the distance, I began my hunt for a room.
I walked back onto the hotel veranda later, hot and sweaty and not having found anywhere that could offer me a room until tomorrow lunchtime. I sat drinking a coconut water and ruminating on whether I should move on – go to Ko Phi Phi perhaps, but there was no guarantee that I’d find anything there either. Well, one night out in the rain wouldn’t kill me, and if it got really bad, I could always shelter under one of the restaurant verandas.
‘Found a room yet?’ Jack asked hopefully as he passed me, carrying a tray of beer to the neighbouring table.
‘Yeah,’ I lied, not wanting to put him in a difficult position. ‘I’ll go upstairs and collect my rucksack after lunch.’
‘Don’t fancy giving me a hand behind the bar for a while, do you?’ he asked. ‘What with Nam going AWOL and the hotel full, I haven’t been able to get along to the rock. Abi’s just called to say they’ve got a queue as long as a python down there. And about as angry.’
‘I don’t mind, though I wouldn’t trust me carrying trays,’ I joked.
‘Any port in a storm, Cee. It’ll only be a couple of hours, I swear. Free beer and whatever you want to eat is on the house tonight. Come on, I’ll show you the ropes.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, and stood up to go with him behind the bar.
Four hours later, there was no sign of Jack and I’d had enough. The bar was heaving and there was a rush on juices – presumably sparked by people using vitamin C or Bloody Marys as a hangover cure. None of the drinks were as simple as just pinging the cap off a beer, and I’d ended up splattered with mango juice when the blender had exploded all over me because I hadn’t screwed the top on properly. The previous high spirits of the customers had disappeared overnight with the wrapping paper, and I was fed up with being shouted at for being slow. On top of that, I could hear the rumble of thunder getting closer, which meant that later, probably when me and my rucksack had to make camp on the beach, the heavens would open.
Jack arrived back eventually, full of apologies for being away for so long. He looked around the now almost empty veranda.
‘At least you haven’t been too busy. It was heaving down at the rock.’
Yeah, right . . . I didn’t say anything as I finished my noodles, then went upstairs to collect my rucksack.
‘Thanks, Cee. I’ll see ya around,’ he said as I arrived back downstairs, paid the bill for my room and trudged off.
I walked along the beach as a couple of lightning flashes appeared almost directly above me. I reckoned I had about five minutes before the downpour, so I upped my speed and turned right along an alleyway to a bar I knew, then saw that most of the shack-shops had closed up early because of the impending storm. The bar was also pulling down its shutters as I approached.