‘Yep. He got the GGF involved and closed it down. Just like that. And all the animals went into retirement at various sanctuaries all over the world to live out their lives happily. He recruited me to run the orphanage here. I’ve been here eight years now and I love it.’
Jenny flashes me another of her wonderful smiles and I see that she looks quite emotional.
Tears of joy? It’s no wonder she loves Ethan. He’s her real-life hero too.
We leave the main highway and drive through a small town before taking a long straight road heading out into the jungle. The Northern Borneo Orangutan Orphanage is well signposted from here as it’s a popular visitor centre. Jenny tells me that the aim of the orphanage is to nurture the orphans and to teach them all the skills they need to be rehabilitated back into the protected area of jungle where adult orangutans can now roam freely and safely.
‘Orangutans have the longest childhood dependency on the mother of any wild animal in the world.’ Jenny explains. ‘Typically, a baby will stay with its mother for up to ten years and in that time, will learn from her how to live in the rainforest and how to be independent.’
The afternoon is spent taking a VIP tour of the orphanage with Jenny.
She shows us the visitor centre first and we sit and watch a short, harrowing film, on the plight of orangutans in Borneo. I learn how their habitat has been destroyed by logging and by jungle clearance in favour of palm oil plantations and how they’re now in danger of extinction.
I’m left in tears over how many traumatised babies have been brought here, having been found clinging to their starved dead parents, or after being kept as pets by the loggers or plantation workers themselves. Then we’re shown a couple of new arrivals in the hospital quarantine facility. It’s heart-breaking. In a pen, are two tiny females, both apparently less than a year old, who had been found starving and alone and clinging to each other for support in the jungle.
They have wild patchy red hair and traumatised eyes and have been named Thelma and Louise.
‘When they first arrive here at the orphanage, malnourished and dehydrated, they are so distressed that it takes a long time to gain their trust,’ Jenny tells us.
It’s heart-achingly sad to see them both sitting there, like terrified children who want their mummy, unable to understand what’s happening to them. My maternal instinct to love and to care for these darling infants is in overdrive and I’m filled with admiration for the important work that Jenny and her team are doing here.
After spotting an ‘adoption plan’ offered to visitors as a way of raising important sponsorship and additional funding, I immediately ask if I can adopt Thelma and Louise.
It turns out, ‘adoption’ really means donating a small regular amount of money and I quickly fill in the paperwork. Jenny then takes us into the ‘jungle gym’ where we meet lots of other young ones who are all happily strengthening their limbs and learning to climb and swing from ropes.
Then we take a long walk through the jungle to a viewing area and feeding platform.
‘It’s here that we can observe our success stories…’ Jenny tells us proudly.
And it’s fabulous to sit and watch these fully-grown, happy and free orangutans, confidently swinging in from high in the ancient forest canopy to enjoy the twice daily offerings of fruit laid out for them. It’s heartwarming to know that one day, through the love and care and devotion of the staff and the volunteers here, poor Thelma and Louise will get the chance to recover and to thrive and to live safely in this sanctuary too.
When our tour comes to an end, Jenny drives us back into Sandakan.
We thank her and she gives me a hug. Any jealously I’d initially felt towards her has been been replaced by admiration and respect. ‘Lori, if you want to come and work for us anytime, then just give me a call and you’re in. No problem. We’d love to have you!’
I can hardly believe my good fortune.
At Sandakan, Ethan and I check into a small hotel near the harbour. He takes the lead at reception, while for a moment, I have to recover from the exhausting and energy-sapping heat and humidity outside by standing next to the cold blowing air-con unit inside the lobby.
By the time I join him, he’s taken two rooms for us.
I’m surprised but also relieved. I feel pleased that he hasn’t just assumed we would sleep together tonight. But part of me is also disappointed because throughout the day, I’ve been in heady anticipation over the ‘will we or won’t we sleep together tonight’ scenario – especially after hearing the zoo story from Jenny. If it’s even possible, I’m in even more lustful hero worship of Ethan now.
He hands me my key and we go up in the elevator to the second floor without speaking.
I’m now hoping our rooms might be next to each other and therefore interconnecting. I imagine him knocking gently on the door, before sweeping into my room upon my lustful invitation, to take me into his arms and make love to me passionately.
But to my dismay our rooms aren’t even close. They’re a length of hallway apart.
So, in a bit of a fluster, we go our separate ways to freshen up after arranging to meet up again in the lobby in one hour, so that we can go and watch the sunset together. Ethan says that this part of the world is famous for two things, and one of them is the most incredible sunsets – leaving me to ponder on what might be the other.
My room is clean and comfortable and has wi-fi. I immediately start up my laptop, so that I can view my photos from today and message them to my boys.
I send them a photo of me in the jungle, surrounded by tall grasses and ancient trees. I include one of Thelma and Louise, of course, informing them they now had two cute baby sisters. And also one of Jenny and I surrounded by lots of happy youngsters in the jungle-gym.
It’s then that I suddenly realise, to my dismay, that I don’t have any at all of Ethan.
Not that I want to send one of him and I together to my boys anyway.
With amusement, I recall how when I tried to include him in a photo, he whisked my camera off me to insist that he took a photo of me instead. I guess he must be a little camera shy.
Before I take a shower, I decide to do a little bit of research.
Ethan’s job intrigues me and I want to know more about the Goldman Global Foundation.
An internet search brings up their involvement in projects all over the world. Fiji. The Philippines. Indonesia. Asia. Bahamas. The Caribbean … just to name a few places.
I read that as well as land-based eco-projects, protecting illegally hunted animals and those in danger of extinction, the GGF also has a fully equipped ocean-going ship able to attend to any conservation crisis or controversial marine concern in any sea or ocean across the world.
There are reports of the ship and its crew shadowing Japanese whaling ships and successfully interfering with illegal slaughter and then deterring poachers in the Galapagos.
It seems to me that Mr Goldman is even more of a real-life hero than Ethan.
Yet, strangely, there are no photos of him in any of his news features.
He is described as an intensely private man and something of a nomadic recluse – yet respected and supported all over the world by green-politicians and eco-warriors and campaigning celebrities alike. The GGF website has a project location map where I find an article on an innovative artificial reef construction project being fully funded by GGF in the Sulu Sea off northern Malaysia. Knowing this is the same project that Ethan and I will be working on together makes me feel incredibly excited and proud.
I take a shower and wash my hair, rubbing some coconut oil through my tresses to control the humidity frizz, and then also use the same oil on my skin. My body is glowing like a nuclear reactor after the heat of the sun today. I slip into an off the shoulder dress with a pretty lace bodice that I bought in KL and realise that I’m tingling all over with fervent anticipation.
As I come out of the lift, I see Ethan waiting for me in the lobby.
My heart skips a beat when I see him smile at me. He looks so handsome and like he could be from a far more exotic place than Scotland, with his dark skin and casual but stylish tropical garb. Tonight, he’s wearing long trousers and a blue shirt with a flower pattern.
He looks me up and down in appreciation. ‘Lori, you look lovely!’
Then he links my arm through his and escorts me through the door.
‘I’ve been trying to guess the other thing that Sandakan is famous for other than its sunsets – is it orangutans?’ I ask him. ‘Otherwise I really haven’t a clue.’
‘No, actually, it’s your favourite food. Lobster and shrimp and clams!’ he tells me.
And I am both impressed and delighted that he’s remembered this from our ‘name your favourite food’ quizzes on Koh Phi Tao. We stroll along a boardwalk until we come to a restaurant at the end of a long narrow wooden jetty. Despite it being busy, we are seated at a small table for two with an uninterrupted view across the bay. The evening is mellow and the breeze warm and salty and garlic infused.
‘It’s a beautiful evening and it’s been a beautiful day,’ I tell him appreciatively.
‘And we are just in time for the grand finale.’
Indeed, the sun is just starting to go down as we’re given menus and asked what we’d like to drink. We order two beers and a seafood sharing platter.
And then it happens – the sky is suddenly alight with the deepest colours imaginable.
‘There are three unique elements that sets apart a sunset in Borneo from anywhere else in the world,’ Ethan explains to me knowledgably. ‘The warm air, the tropical humidity, and its proximity to the equator.’
Most people are getting up on their feet at this point, meals and drinks temporarily abandoned, so they can point their cameras at the bands of pink and the purple hues and deepening reds and oranges and streaks of violet light.
I take just one carefully focussed photo and then put my phone down so that I can simply sit and experience and appreciate this special show through my own eyes, albeit through my sunglasses, as somehow, the sun looks twice as big and twice as bright as I’ve ever seen it before. It shimmers, refracting orange and cinnamon rays across the sea towards us and through the tumbling clouds, turning into red and vermilion coloured streaks.
In the foreground, dark silhouettes of small boats against the fiery glow give the whole scene perspective. Then, when the sun finally dips below the horizon line, the whole sky and the sea light up together in a final explosion of light and a blazing inferno of colour.
It’s breath-taking. I can’t help but marvel at the incredible beauty of it.
‘That was truly the most amazing sunset I have ever seen,’ I tell Ethan.
Our food arrives and is enough to feed a small army but we show it no mercy.
‘Dessert or coffee?’ Our waiter suggests, on clearing away the debris once we’re done.
‘Oh, not for me,’ I protest.
Ethan regards me from across the table with a gleam of approval in his eyes.
And suddenly, I have an acute case of first date nerves, thinking he’s keen for the evening to be over and that my refusal of dessert might be taken as a signal to head back to the hotel.
‘But as the evening is still young…’ I stammer. ‘Shall we have a bottle of wine?’
I sit back in my seat and cross my legs, making a deliberate show of how comfortable and keen I am to linger awhile and enjoy the ambiance. Then, as the waiter produces the wine list, I focus on staying in the moment and relaxing while we linger over our wine and enjoy the pleasantly subdued evening temperature. Most of our conversation is about the orphanage and the importance of the work done there by Jenny and her team.
‘I can’t thank you enough for taking me there today,’ I say.
‘It was my pleasure. I heard that you impressed Jenny so much she offered you a job?’
‘Yes, she did. But I declined. I told her you’d promised to take me diving in a coral garden.’
He smiles. ‘Indeed. It’s still on your bucket list together with swimming with dolphins in the wild. I’m sure we can check that one off soon, too.’
I am doubly impressed. A man who actually listens and wants to make all my dreams come true. ‘So, tell me, what’s still left on your bucket list, Ethan? Is there anything special still to do?’
He studies me for a long moment over the top of his wine glass and his eyes shine with warmth in the soft light from the candle between us. My eyes are focussed on the beautiful curve of his mouth that I am now daydreaming about kissing.
‘Aye, something very special, but I’m a patient man. I’m waiting for the time to be right.’
I catch my breath and he raises his eyebrows in recognition of his point hitting home.
He is referring to what he’d said on our last night together on Koh Phi Tao.
Okay. I get it. You need more time.
And he had been showing me his patience and his respect by booking us two rooms.
He’s making it clear that he isn’t rushing me but also that I should be the one to make the first move. It’s ridiculous how nervous I feel. I haven’t slept with any man other than my (soon-to-be-ex) husband in about thirty years and I’d only had a couple of other boyfriends before I met Charles. But it’s crazy how much I want to be with Ethan tonight.
I have palpitations. My whole body aches. I long to be intimate with him.
Although, I’m also scared of being a disappointment to him and to myself.
What if I’m not very good at making love?
Ethan has been separated from Marielle for several years but he has women like Jenny (and I don’t blame her) who fawn all over him. With his good looks and his penchant for championing all the world’s problems, he’s a woman magnet. But then, with his nomadic lifestyle, he’s also someone who might love and leave. I immediately cast that one aside.
If I’m going to dwell on that old chestnut again, I may as well not be here.
We make our way back along the boardwalk to our hotel, holding hands, fingers entwined.
When we walk into the lobby and head towards the elevator, I take a deep breath.
‘So, do you still have a drop of Scotch in your bag for a nightcap?’ I venture.
He looks both surprised and delighted in equal measure.
‘Aye, I do. If you’re not too tired. Erm … for a nightcap, I mean.’
We go up to his room. He busies himself getting two tumblers from the bathroom while I stand waiting. The large double bed immediately becomes the elephant in the room. I don’t know where to sit because his guitar case is on the only chair. Seeing my predicament, he moves the guitar to make a point, but I sit on the bed anyway.
I slip off my sandals and make myself comfortable, while he goes outside to the hallway to get some ice from the ice machine. Then, with an ice cube and a generous shot of whisky in each of our glasses, Ethan sits down next to me on the bed.
I lean towards him and a moment later the shots are on the bedside table and I’m in his arms at long last. ‘Oh Ethan, wanting to kiss you tonight has been driving me crazy.’
‘Did I make a mistake in booking two rooms?’ he asks me, gently kissing and nuzzling my neck and nipping my earlobe and making me shiver and tingle with excitement as his hands and fingers trace a line down my back while unzipping my dress.
‘Yes. But I appreciated the sentiment,’ I gasp.
And as our lips meet and my dress slides to the floor, any doubts or anxieties I might have had are cast aside too.
Chapter 18
Reef Island
We leave the hotel late morning, after being the last people down for breakfast and coffee. Looking happy, tired and a little dishevelled, we haul our backpacks and head over to the pier to find a boat to take us to Reef Island. According to Ethan, we stand a good chance of getting a boat captain willing to take us over to the island at this time of the day, as the fishing boats are returning with their ca
tch and are now looking to make a quick buck transiting travellers and tourists to wherever they need to go.
Indeed, there are lots of boats of all sizes at the docking area and the strong smell of fish in the air. I offer to wait with our bags while he goes to negotiate. The heat today is incredible. I’m stood on a concrete slip next to the sea and I feel like I’m being steamed alive.
My dress is already stuck to my body in the torturous heat and humidity and I’m physically aching after last night’s lovemaking – every part of my body as well as my ardour feels like it’s alight as I watch Ethan with a lustful eye, admiring his every move and his athletic physique from my vantage point on the pier. Every little throb and ache and twinge reminds me of the places he’s kissed and pleasured.
I sigh deeply with happiness and give myself a little reality check, by averting my gaze down into the water lapping against the jetty, where a shoal of colourful fish move like a team of synchronised swimmers in the crystal clear water. I long to strip off my clothes and join them but I have the responsibility of guarding our bags and also Ethan’s precious guitar.
I try lifting his canvas bag but it’s too heavy.
I had joked about it being full of colourful shirts but he claims it’s full of his dive gear.
At last, I see him shaking hands with a fisherman and counting notes into a weathered hand.
I’m so excited about getting to the island. It sounds idyllic. I’m also excited about diving again and I’m particularly excited about diving with Ethan. To think that I’ll be on a tropical island with the man of my dreams over Christmas and New Year.
I’m convinced that life really can’t get much better than this.
Ethan waves and gives me the thumbs up sign and then he comes racing back over to help with the bags. He picks up his guitar, swings the impossibly heavy bag over one shoulder effortlessly and throws mine over his other one. I trot behind him in my melting flip flops.
‘He’ll take us over to the island for fifty dollars.’
‘Each?’ I ask, thinking it sounded like quite a bargain.
The Backpacking Housewife Page 21
