‘I’m the opposite of Annie, actually,’ she began. ‘I’ve taken too much time out. Four years of hiding is way too long.’ She looked down at the carefully manicured grass. ‘Bali has been a kind of purgatory for me, a place to just exist. But then being in the animal sanctuary—where we were actually fighting for survival—I realised I didn’t want to die.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Holding Tito at the sanctuary—being with a child again—it felt like something just thawed inside of me. I have to go back to Australia and reconnect with my husband and my family. I have to learn to be with people again. A bit like the odyssey you set for me, Pak Tony, but for much longer.’
She closed her eyes, imagining seeing Richard again. ‘It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be very, very complicated.’ She opened her eyes once more. ‘But at least I know, after everything we’ve been through, I can cope. I can sit with my fear without feeling like I might not survive it. Of course I will; I can survive anything now. That’s quite a gift, and I have Fearless to thank for it.’
Pak Tony smiled. ‘Those insights are a gift to us all, Cara. Our individual shifts have been very different, haven’t they? For some, they’ve been internal. For others, the change is explicit, affecting what we do and how we move through the world.’
‘That’s me,’ said Remy. ‘There have been many obvious changes. Like asking the woman I love not to marry me at the top of the Eiffel Tower.’
Janelle grinned. ‘After climbing the stairs, no less.’
Remy gazed ardently at her. ‘And then taking her back there again, a month later, with an engagement ring in my pocket.’
The group spontaneously cheered.
Remy smiled. ‘Fearless taught me to care more. Meeting all of you, I saw more passion than in a whole restaurant of Michelin chefs. Annie and her dogs, Henry and his birds … and I will never forget Janelle’s passion talk.’
‘Who could?’ crowed Henry. ‘It went viral. There are millions of men worldwide who envy you, Remy.’
‘I know.’ The Frenchman reached for Janelle’s hand, rather protectively. ‘She did that because she cared so much. Without any real consideration of the possible consequences.’
Janelle looked self-conscious. ‘And we’ll get to those in a moment, believe me.’
‘But being here in Bali showed me my own indifference,’ Remy continued, ‘to how my actions—or failure to act—have repercussions. I’ve been too comfortable in my little insular world, earning my money and deciding how to spend it.’
‘That’s too harsh,’ objected Janelle. ‘You care about a lot of things, Remy.’
‘Pfft!’ It was the Frenchman’s turn to look self-conscious now. ‘So, I have just started a new job. My parents are not pleased, but I can live with that. I realised something at the tooth-filing ceremony: as an adult, I can choose to care less about my family’s opinion and more about the big issues.’ He grinned. ‘I am working in an impact investing firm. I have finally found a social project, Pak Tony, as you challenged me on Fearless.’
‘In La Défense tower?’ Henry jibed.
‘No, thank God. On the third floor of a very old building.’ Remy pulled a face at Henry. ‘We invest in companies that offer more than a financial return; they contribute to a sustainable world.’ He looked animated. ‘We do policy work, too—on climate change, renewable energy, water trading …’
‘So our blueblooded Frenchman has turned green?’ asked Henry. ‘That is a big change.’
‘And you are sounding like my father, Henry,’ Remy laughed heartily. ‘But if Janelle and I ever have children, at least I can show them that their father tried to improve the world. I’m not wearing a hairshirt and ashes—I’m still very much in financial markets—but it’s something more meaningful, at least. It matters.’
‘Good for you, Remy,’ said Annie. ‘If you can make the world a better place and get paid for it, that’s a lot more sensible than what I tried to do at BAF.’ She turned to Janelle. ‘Are you a lady of leisure in Paris, then?’
‘Hardly.’ Janelle smiled ruefully. ‘I can certainly relate to what Henry said about coincidental things being part of a greater plan.’
‘Oooh, do tell,’ said Annie.
‘Well, I’m sure everyone can remember how angry I was with Remy for posting my passion talk to YouTube,’ Janelle began. ‘I totally overreacted to an honest mistake. But then we got caught up in the siege and I forgot all about it.’ She looked at Remy, blushing a little. ‘Afterwards, when I flew back to Australia, I realised the clip had really gone viral.’
She paused to take a deep breath. ‘Millions of young women got behind it. Taylor Swift even tweeted about it! Suddenly people started contacting me with offers for interviews, even a book deal. Someone asked me to do a Touchable shampoo commercial. I mean, my hair is mousy. Can you imagine it?’ She laughed. ‘I kept saying no. But then I realised I could actually do something constructive with all the attention.’
She looked nervously around the group. ‘So, I’ve set up the Bella Foundation in Australia to support eating disorder services around the world. I’m going to donate my appearance fees into that. Last week I signed my first product endorsement deal with GoGirlz. They want to use a real woman, rather than an airbrushed model, in their web commercials.’
Even Cara had heard of GoGirlz, a hugely popular global skincare range for young women.
‘I don’t know how long it will last,’ Janelle continued, ‘but it beats consumer research. In fact, it’s going to pay for me to retrain as a counsellor. That was the only part of my market research job I actually enjoyed—getting inside the heads of my interviewees. Once I’ve retrained, who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to help others to face their fears. Maybe you’ll employ me at Fearless one day, Pak Tony?’
The facilitator clapped his hands, grinning.
‘Wow,’ said Henry. ‘That’s huge, Janelle! Congratulations.’
‘I’m flying to London after our honeymoon for my first photo shoot with GoGirlz. If Lorenzo was here …’ Janelle’s smile wavered as she looked at Lavinia, ‘he could have given me some tips.’
Lavinia smiled. ‘You will be bellissima.’
‘You’re going to be famous!’ squealed Annie.
Janelle lowered her eyes. ‘It’s a cause close to my heart. GoGirlz is sending a positive message to young women about real beauty.’ She looked up again. ‘My niece is going to come to London with me for the photo shoot. Arabella told me it’s given her a reason to get stronger. And that means more to me than anything else.’
She smiled wryly at Pak Tony. ‘Remember how you told me to try something new every day? Well, I’ve just gone and got myself a completely new life.’
‘Hurrah!’ said Henry, raising his glass. ‘To Janelle, a natural beauty!’
The group cheered again, and Janelle laughed. But her face quickly grew serious again. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘let’s toast Lorenzo. When I was furious about the YouTube clip, he was the one telling me to calm down. He saw its potential. In fact, Lorenzo is why all of us are here together now.’
They all raised their glasses again. No one spoke for a moment.
Pak Tony turned to Lavinia. ‘Would you like to say something, Lavinia? Janelle’s right. We are here due to Lorenzo’s bravery.’
‘Yes …’ Lavinia looked around unsteadily. ‘Firstly, I would like to say thank you for the emails about Lorenzo. I am sorry I haven’t replied to all of them. I couldn’t read them after a while, it made my heart too sick.’
Cara frowned, privately wondering why Lavinia’s heart hadn’t seemed too sick for media interviews.
‘That is understandable,’ said Pak Tony. ‘Of everyone here, you lost the most in the siege.’
Lavinia sighed. ‘Yes, but sometimes even now it doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to wake up and find Lorenzo next to me. Or I’ll smell his shirts in our wardrobe and, for a moment, it’s like he’s right there. But, of course, he
isn’t.’
Cara winced, understanding. She’d moved overseas to avoid the many small reminders of Astrid.
‘Maybe these things are happening in my mind because I wasn’t there when Lorenzo actually … died,’ said Lavinia. ‘All of you shared Lorenzo’s last week on earth and—’ she looked directly at Remy now—‘you were the last to see him alive.’
Remy nodded slowly.
‘Can you tell me about it?’ Lavinia asked softly.
Remy told her everything. From the moment he’d woken to find Lorenzo sitting next to him in the café with a bold escape plan, to the final moments before Lorenzo’s death, when he’d ignored Remy’s pleas to abandon the remaining hostages.
‘Unlike Lorenzo, some of us were not heroes,’ said Remy, his eyes watery. ‘I helped with the other hostages, but I failed to stay to the end, I was too afraid. But Lorenzo did not falter. It was as if his whole life had led him to that moment. He was like a god, and the rest of us were mortals.’ He wiped his eyes with the cuff of his shirt. ‘You should be very proud.’
Lavinia stared at Remy. ‘That doesn’t even sound like Lorenzo,’ she murmured. ‘He was mostly quiet and reserved. He must have surprised himself, I think.’ She smiled faintly. ‘He did that a lot, actually. Expecting the worst of himself, then doing much better than he’d imagined.’
Her smile faded. ‘He felt that way about fatherhood, too. I think he didn’t want a baby because he was afraid he wouldn’t be a good father. Probably because his own father had failed him.’ Her lower lip trembled. ‘That was why we came to Bali, to help him with those subconscious fears. But now …’ She covered her face with her hands.
Annie moved closer to Lavinia and put an arm around her. ‘But now we know he would have made a great father. He was strong and courageous when it counted. He saved all of us—and dozens of people he didn’t know. You can carry that with you always, Lavinia.’
Not when she learns the truth, Cara thought, stricken. She’d read the translation only once, but the final sentence remained etched in her mind: I cannot defend my models—or our future children—from myself.
‘Thank you, Annie,’ Lavinia whispered, leaning into the American. ‘That is very important to me, because …’ she cupped a hand under the curve of her belly, ‘Lorenzo and I are having a baby anyway. I was already pregnant when Lorenzo joined Fearless, but we didn’t know. It was still too early. You can tell now, yes?’
Cara’s mouth dropped open. The flowing clothes, the weight gain; it suddenly made sense.
‘Oh, bless you.’ Annie pulled Lavinia into another hug.
The Italian brushed tears from her eyes. ‘That is why I’ve done so many media interviews, when all I really felt like doing was curling up and dying myself. I want to keep Lorenzo’s legacy alive for his daughter.’
Cara felt ashamed of her own uncharitable assumptions. ‘You’re having a girl?’ she said with a wistful smile. ‘You’re so lucky.’
‘Do you think so?’ Lavinia looked uneasy. ‘I will be a single mother.’
‘I know so. A baby changes everything.’
Lavinia looked sightly reassured. ‘Was there something you wanted to share earlier, Cara? About Lorenzo?’
Cara held the last of the champagne in her mouth, fighting the urge to spit it out. Her hand rested on her bag, containing the letter from Lorenzo.
But now she was privy to new information: the presence of an unborn child. What good could come of sharing with Lavinia these ugly revelations from beyond the grave? Which was more important—compassion or truth? A long time ago, Cara had sworn a journalistic oath of truth at all costs. But then Astrid had arrived and her world had been turned upside down.
Cara swallowed the champagne. A baby changes everything.
‘Lavinia,’ she said, ‘Lorenzo was one of the kindest men I’ve ever met.’ She briefly closed her eyes, remembering his compassion at the water cleansing ceremony. ‘The day before we went to the animal sanctuary, he shared something with me. He told me that you would be the best mother in the world.’
‘Did he?’
Cara saw the delight in the other woman’s eyes, the exquisite relief. ‘Those were his exact words, and I wanted you to know.’ That much was true, at least.
The Italian woman smiled through her tears and whispered, ‘Grazie.’
Pak Tony reached for Lavinia’s hand. ‘We are all touched by your story, Lavinia,’ he said. ‘And thrilled that a new life, testament to the love you shared with Lorenzo, is growing inside of you. Even after death, everyone and everything is connected.’
Often without knowing it, Cara thought. Her decision to withhold the letter had just changed Lavinia’s life, and that of her unborn child, and neither would ever be the wiser.
Pak Tony turned to the wider group. ‘Listening to your reflections this morning, I am proud and humbled to know you all. So before we disperse for the real celebrations of this weekend, I’d like you to stand with me once more.’
They clambered back to their feet. Cara and Annie stood on either side of Lavinia, their arms around her waist. Henry stood with one arm around Pak Ketut and the other around Remy, who held Janelle’s hand in his. All of them connected by human touch.
‘Let’s make a simple toast.’ Pak Tony raised his glass and smiled. ‘To fears and failures, faced or embraced. And to strangers we have grown to trust and love. To fearless friends!’
As the group echoed his words, Cara’s heart surged with gratitude. For her time in Bali, and the space it had offered her to sit quietly with her grief. For her place in this group, and the uncommon friendships born of quiet reflection and violent chaos. And for the chance to gently probe her own pain, moving towards something more buoyant and hopeful than she’d ever imagined possible.
Cara lifted her face, relishing the sun’s warmth upon her skin, listening to the ocean’s ebb and flow, inhaling the aroma of damp frangipanis and tasting the invisible salt crust upon her lips.
Amid all this beauty of Bali, she sensed something else. Poignant and comforting, calling her beyond the sea.
Her own homecoming.
Acknowledgements
As always, I’m indebted to the Allen & Unwin team for their expert care during the novel-birthing process. Thanks to Jane Palfreyman, Christa Munns, Clara Finlay, Wenona Byrne, Andy Palmer, Louise Cornegé, Charlotte Bachali, Alissa Dinallo, and to all the unsung heroes of publishing and bookselling of whom authors are largely ignorant.
I am grateful to the many people in my life who are willing to read my early, rambling drafts. For their commitment of time and critical feedback, huge thanks are due to Jan Lingard (several times over), Connie Diakos, Sarah Bramwell, Jodie Thomson, Sarah Barrett, Gaile Pearce, Kim Healey, Michelle Taylor, Natasha Brain, Melissa Attia, Danny Russell, Deborah Carlyon, Tegan Molony and Ewa Wojkowska.
For their assistance with specific cultural, linguistic, technical and other matters, I am grateful to Louise McLeod Tabouis, Erica Pontalti, Pierre-Luigi Balducci, Rachel Glitz, Colin Healey, Virginia Lloyd, Andrew Edwards, Sarah Alderson, Jenny Lalor, Anna Seassau, Iluh Sudianing, Jennifer Fleming, Luisa Brimble, Don Norris, Rhonda Carpenter, Rachael McLennan, and Sasha and Nathan White.
I’m lucky to have the love and companionship of long-suffering family and friends, especially Stuart Higgins, Lesley Collins, Amanda Collins, John Attia, Tim Haydon, Debra Reed, Amanda Thomas and Judith and Des Huxley.
For their continued cheering from the grandstand of life, thank you to the Jack family, the Jones family, the Bale and Campbell families, Veronica Abolins, Ellen Fanning, Peter Dredge, Peter Kerr, John and Libby Fairfax, Kate and Nathan Fabian, Genevieve Freeman, Suzanne Kent and Bertoes, and Those Who Must Not Be Named.
Special thanks to all my friends in Bali, especially the Pelangi School community, for walking alongside us during our precious years in paradise.
And for their constant inspiration, relentless questioning and daily death-defying acts of fearlessness, all my love
and gratitude go to not-so-little Oliver, Skye and Luke. I want to write the world for you.
Fearless Page 32
