by kendra Smith
‘Well, I’m forty-one, never been on a motorbike until today…’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘Not a lot to tell.’ She looked at him and then took a sip of beer.
‘I think there’s a lot more to tell.’ He smiled at her and wiped his mouth with the napkin.
Maddie pushed some of her escaping hair off her forehead.
‘What will you write on your food blog?’ She changed the subject and sat back in her chair as he explained how ‘Bali on a Plate’ had started and how much he enjoyed writing it. As he talked, Maddie found herself studying his mouth, noticing the way he had a bit of a lopsided grin, wondering what his lips would taste like.
*
On the drive back to Kuta Beach, she was once again sitting with her legs astride Johnny, her arms around his waist, inhaling his maleness and trying to ignore how strong his back felt as she attempted not to squish her boobs into his spine. She’d tried to lean back a little, but as he bounced over potholes, she’d clung nearer for dear life. ‘Hold on!’ he’d yelled at her as they approached a junction, his arm thrown back, clutching her thigh with his strong grasp. She looked down at his hand encasing her thigh, the way her flesh around his fingertips was paler underneath. She tried to remember the last time a man had held her like that.
Johnny started to slow down. A policeman was on the side of the road, standing next to his motorbike and waving them down.
As they drove slowly past him to pull in, Johnny muttered to her under his breath, ‘Don’t say a word.’
The policeman was wearing dark trousers and a khaki jacket, with big pockets and brass buttons, and a large belt round his middle. He looked more like he was in the army than the police. He had a loose hi-vis jacket over him as well. He wandered over to them and pointed at the bike. ‘You have international drive licence?’
Johnny took his helmet off and shook his head. ‘I have an Australian one.’
‘Then you get fine. Fine of two million rupiah.’
‘Hey, no way,’ Johnny said. He shook his head again and got off the bike. He towered above the policeman. Then the policeman said something in Indonesian.
‘No!’ Johnny blinked a few times and looked at Maddie. ‘He’s saying that because we don’t have a licence we need to pay, but I’m not buying it. I’ve checked a few times and you can drive on your Aussie licence here—’ But before he could finish, another policeman on a motorcycle pulled in.
‘Oh shit, I’m outnumbered now.’ Johnny’s eyes darted back and forth.
She tugged on his T-shirt. ‘Let’s just give him the money! I can get some out. What’s two million rupiah?”
‘About two hundred Aussie dollars. No way, Maddie, this is a scam. I need to call their bluff.’
The other policeman parked his bike, said something loud in Indonesian to the first guy. There was a heated debate.
‘What are they saying?’ she whispered to Johnny.
‘Hold on,’ he said and went over to them and started speaking in Indonesian.
Suddenly Johnny yelled, ‘No!’ She looked around abruptly to see Johnny had pulled his wallet out of his pocket and was showing them his licence.
‘Fuck’s sake!’ she heard Johnny say as the first policeman was waving his arms around and gesturing to her on the bike, pointing his thumb toward her.
After a bit more shouting, the second policeman was holding his hands up in a signal that Johnny was to be quiet. He did as he was told, scowling. Then the second policeman said something to him and he strode back to his bike. Johnny stood on the dirty roadside and scuffed his boots on the ground, sending up a plume of dust.
‘Jesus Christ, they’re going to arrest us! Can you believe it!’
Maddie’s heart started thumping. She had never been arrested in her life! Her eyes widened. ‘Did you explain to the second policeman about your licence?’
‘It won’t make a difference. The first guy was trying to rip us off and then when the other guy came along, he knew he’d lose face if he was seen to be accepting a bribe from us, because you can drive with an Aussie licence, so he said he’d seen us snogging on the north part of the island – which is taboo around here. It’s covered by Sharia law. Basically if you’re not married you can’t touch each other. We have to go to the station. They’ve really stitched us up.’ Johnny ran his hand over his dark blond hair and looked at her.
‘But he’s lying! We were never there – and we didn’t kiss!’
Johnny tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s our word against his – against a corrupt policeman, but still, they’re going to believe him, not us. Christ, I can’t lose my visa. I need to stay and work here…’ And with that he hopped on his bike, revved up the engine noisily and they followed the policeman along the road.
This wasn’t quite the day out she’d imagined.
15
It was making no sense to Maddie and it was taking ages. They had been in the police station for over four hours now, filling in a statement then sitting on two green plastic chairs in a back room. It had one window, high up on the wall, with metal bars across it. Dust and cobwebs clung to the bars as a spider scuttled along the ledge and there was a faint smell of insect repellent in the air. Maddie felt like she was in jail already. Johnny had done all the talking, sometimes in English, sometimes chattering effortlessly in Indonesian.
He was pacing the floor now, after texting Adity and Ed to tell them where they were. Maddie stared at a rubber plant in a pot by the corner. Its leaves were torn and brown. Someone should water that. It was unbearably hot. The only slight relief was a ceiling fan that went round agonisingly slowly, offering a very gentle breeze over her by-now sweaty face. Moisture clung behind her knees and dribbled down her forehead.
What would they do? What was the maximum punishment for snogging, for heaven’s sake? Not that they had been snogging. Honestly, if she could just speak to someone in plain English. Her thoughts were interrupted. ‘You know they could put us in jail for this?’ Johnny sat down beside her, his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands.
‘I’m sure they’ll realise it’s all a big mistake.’
‘Maddie, this isn’t the British police we’re dealing with.’
She felt very afraid and very alone. Her mind instinctively thought of Tim. She suddenly wanted all the security he offered, but just then, a little voice whispered in her ear. No, you don’t, Maddie, you’ll be just fine. You’ve got this.
They sat like this for a while longer. Maddie was twisting a strand of hair round her index finger when something dawned on her. She grabbed her phone from her bag and swiped hurriedly.
‘How far is it from Ubud to the north of the island?’
Johnny shrugged. ‘About two hours on a good day, maybe longer.’
‘So the policeman said he saw us there at what time?’
He looked up at her. ‘He said he saw us there at midday – it’s on the statement.’
‘Right.’ And with that she showed Johnny her phone, and the photo of them both outside Ginger in Ubud, with its name clearly displayed, and a time on the photo: twelve midday.
‘This proves we were in Ubud at twelve o’clock, and if it takes two hours to get to the north of the island – especially on a motorbike, then there is no way we could have been there.’
Johnny sat upright and snatched the phone from her and swiped it. ‘Genius, Maddie!’ He punched the air.
Her heard did a little flip. Yes, she had to admit, it was.
The door of the room was yanked opened and in walked Ed with Adity.
‘Ed, man! Good to see you!’ Johnny stood up and gave Ed a hug.
‘Hey, you guys, what’s going on? Mum? I’ve just talked to the policeman on duty at the front desk. They said you’ve been “detained” for, um—’ he shot Maddie a look ‘—a private activity in a public place where it’s against Sharia law.’ Ed was pink in the face.
‘Mate, it’s a load of baloney – a scam. Your mum has jus
t found a solution.’ And with that, Johnny explained it all to Ed. He looked over at Adity, who’d been listening intently. She touched Ed’s elbow, said something in Indonesian to him and left the room.
‘Adity’s going to have a word,’ Ed said, then sat down with a thump on the chair.
*
By 8 p.m. a group of them were at the bar. As Adity explained to them, some of the police ‘tried to make a bit of extra pocket money’ – apparently corruption was rife – but in this case they knew they couldn’t push it, so dropped the ‘charges’ and Maddie and Johnny were free to go.
‘Cheers, Maddie!’ Johnny said, lifting a cold beer to his lips. ‘You saved the day!’
Maddie relaxed back into the soft lining of the bar seat. ‘I was terrified!’ She laughed.
They’d been there about an hour, when Johnny turned to her. ‘We’re all going surfing day after tomorrow. Going to come? I run the surf school, remember, so don’t worry, I’ll look after you properly this time!’
Surfing? She hadn’t done it for years. She couldn’t.
‘Actually, I think I’ll come.’ It was out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying.
‘Hey, Mrs B. That’s awesome!’ Adity looked up from her phone.
Yes, awesome. She wanted some of that. She took a huge slug of beer, glanced at herself in the mirror behind the bar and almost didn’t recognise the woman with the flushed cheeks and tousled hair grinning back at her.
16
‘Mum!’ Ed waved to her from a small gathering at the beach. He folded his arms as she got near. ‘You sure about this?’
‘Ed, I was body surfing before you were—’
‘Don’t say it – born – I know! Johnny’ll show you the ropes.’ Ed smiled and started to walk away.
‘Oh, and Ed?’
He turned and looked at her.
‘Be careful, remember what the doctors said!’
Ed grinned and nodded, then ran towards the surf with his mates whooping in the background. She watched them going ahead, yelling and splashing each other. It was quite cloudy, with a heavy weight of humidity in the air. The sea looked murky today and the waves were certainly powerful as they crashed noisily onto the shore. It was two days after the police incident. Ed was markedly better after two good nights’ sleep and the doctors had agreed to ‘normal’ activities resuming, but he was to be careful at the beach – no surfing for a week, he could just paddleboard.
‘Ready?’ Johnny stood next to her in board shorts and a bright red rash vest. His shaggy hair was tied up in a ponytail.
‘Not really, but let’s give it a try!’
‘That’s the spirit!’
‘I used to do this, you know?’
They started to make their way to the shore. ‘Yeah? Where?’
‘North Cornwall, when I was at uni, me and, um, my friend – he was a natural – we spent a long time body surfing. Bloody freezing though.’
‘I’ll bet.’ And with that he gave her a wink. Looking at him standing in front of her, holding the surfboard, a moment from her past caught her unawares, and she stopped dead. Suddenly she was back at their little bay in Devon with Greg and he was grinning at her, the saltwater making his hair stick up like a silly hedgehog as she reached out to touch it, the noise of the waves crashing behind them, his eyes intent on her, glinting in the evening sun as she twisted a strand between her fingers.
Only it wasn’t. She was with Johnny – and she was a million miles from where her heart had been broken back home.
‘Maddie? C’mon!’ Johnny was halfway to the water.
Maddie half ran, half walked to catch up, laughing and feeling – what? Joy. Yes, it gave her a jolt to realise it.
Johnny stared to wade in slowly. ‘Make sure you’ve tied your wristband on, so you don’t lose your board. We’re just going out a little way, to take in some smaller waves. I’m sure it will all come back to you.’
She ploughed straight into the warm water, clutching her board. Johnny was in front of her. It was like wading into a bath, with the soft sand under her feet. As the waves crashed around her on the shore, she took the plunge and hopped on top of her board and started to paddle out to near where the waves broke. She could taste the salt in her mouth and feel the heat from the overhead sun on her back, even through the haze. Johnny was further in, sitting on his huge surfboard and beckoning her to join him.
She was on top of her board, being buffeted by the waves and clinging on, sea spray splashing her face. She realised, this is it! I do feel awesome. She paddled out further, next to Johnny.
‘Right, I’ll stay here and watch you. First you’ve got to look behind you and check out the incoming waves. When you see them break, paddle forward on your board, and with any luck, you’ll be carried by the wave and off you go – remember?’
‘Let’s hope so!’
‘C’mon, there’s a good one coming!’ shouted Johnny. Wave after wave whooshed past, and even though she madly paddled to catch them, she wasn’t quick enough. After a while, her arms ached with the effort and she was clinging to her board, having a break. Johnny paddled up to her.
‘You’ll do it!’
‘I don’t know,’ she shouted, then spat out a mouthful of water. ‘This is exhausting!’
‘Have another go!’
She shook her head and was just about to paddle back to shore, when she caught sight of another wave and decided to give it one last go. As it roared up behind her, she glanced back, nodded at Johnny, gripped her body board with both hands at the front, and pointed for the shore, kicking her legs furiously to keep up with the wave. For a moment, it looked as if she had done it and she was riding the wave, but then her board flipped and slipped out from beneath her, toppling her over. She was thrown under the wave, round and round, caught up in the turmoil of the sea. She took in a lungful of water and started to choke, didn’t know which way was up. White foam was everywhere; her shins met with the seabed, rough sandpaper grazing her legs. She could see the sunlight above. She could hear a muffled roar of the wave. She couldn’t breathe. Then two strong arms were hauling her up.
‘Whoa! You OK? You’ve been spectacularly dumped!’ She emerged from the water, half standing, half kneeling, hair matted to her forehead, spluttering for air.
‘Oh Jesus!’ she managed after a while, glad of the firm sand underfoot.
‘You all right?’ he asked. She nodded. She wasn’t going to be defeated that easily.
‘I’m ready to go again,’ she said with a bravado she didn’t really feel, wiping some hair off her forehead.
‘Attagirl.’ He grinned as he released her arm with a gentle squeeze.
Once more, they paddled out to where the waves started to gather force. She lay on her board, breathing deeply, getting herself orientated again, flicking wet tendrils of her hair out of her eyes.
After a few waves had passed them by, Johnny signalled to another set coming in. She chose her wave, started to paddle, kicked her legs furiously to get on top of it and then she felt buoyed – she’d done it. She was riding the wave! She clung on to the board as its tip zoomed in front of her, propelled by the wave as she skimmed the surface of the ocean, white water rushing at the edges, like a pro. She sped on and on, the board slicing through the ocean, white water on either side of her as she burst out laughing. As the wave lost its power beneath her, she skidded towards the shallow waters of the shore, grinning.
She stood up and looked for Johnny. He was further out to sea, waving crazily at her with both arms, astride his surfboard, clapping and whooping at her. She smiled and started to paddle on her board, back out to do the whole thrilling thing over again. It was such a tonic. Being in Bali was giving her a glimpse of the girl she used to be.
17
Olive
They were on a bus. An outing. When was the last time she’d gone on an outing? Well, the last Maybank View outing, obviously, her brain scolded her. She let out a giggle at the ridiculousness of he
r own thought.
‘All right, Olive?’
It was Kind Clare.
‘I’m fine, pet. Now, where are we going today? To the beach?’
‘We’ve already been through this Olive.’ Clare smiled, putting her hand on Olive’s arm. ‘I’m just doing the roll call to see if everyone who should be here is here. Shout out if you’re here!’
‘And what if you’re not here?’ Olive asked. Clare was looking at her strangely now. She might just be reviewing the ‘Kind’ bit she put on the beginning of her name in her head.
‘Olive, you’re here all right, don’t you worry.’ And then Clare was shouting out lots of other jumbled-up names. Olive couldn’t make out some of them. Lots of names were coming out of Clare’s mouth, only Olive didn’t recognise them.
Where were they going? It was quite fun, really, not knowing where the bloody hell you were off to this time. That part of the disease was a hoot. She caught Claire’s arm as she walked along the tiny passageway of the minibus. ‘Clare, where are we going? I haven’t got my towel.’
Clare sat down beside Olive and patted her knee. Olive pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, wondering as she did so what colour they were. She was determined to remember. Blue or black? She looked at Clare. She had a kind face, soft, apple-round cheeks and a short fringe, which made her look younger than she actually was. Mid-forties? wondered Olive. ‘We’re off to the Ash Art Centre – look, here’s a brochure,’ she said handing her a glossy full-colour brochure showing grey-haired pensioners positioned behind easels.
‘You don’t get carsick, do you?’
‘No. But I might get minibus-sick.’ Olive thought it was a perfectly straightforward thing to say, but both Beryl and George burst out laughing behind her.
She turned around sharply. ‘What are you laughing at? What’s funny?’ She caught Beryl and George exchanging raised looks at each other.
