by H. Y. Hanna
The car picked up speed, the wind grabbing her hair and streaming it out behind her. The sky had brightened up into a fresh, cornflower blue now, framed by a pattern of cirrus clouds. Leah tossed her head and shut her eyes, enjoying the bite of the cool wind on her face.
“Do you want me to put the top up?” asked Toran.
“No, I like it,” said Leah, sliding down further in the seat and leaning her head back on the leather headrest. She gasped with exhilaration as the car surged suddenly forwards with even greater speed. She opened her eyes, about to ask how safe it was to drive so fast through the dense city streets of Singapore, when she realised that they were on a relatively empty, straight road. “Where are we?”
“We’re on the Changi Coastal Road, circumventing the airport,” said Toran. “There’s a shorter, more direct route to the ferry terminal, but this is more scenic.”
Leah slowly sat up. She looked around. To the right of the road, she caught the vivid flash of blue-green water between the thick grove of trees along the verge. A lone fisherman showed briefly in the gap between two tree trunks, carefully reeling in his rod at the water’s edge. Then the road curved slightly and the trees thinned out to a few solitary palms, with the wide expanse of water opening up behind them. Johor Straits—the narrow channel of water which separated Singapore from neighbouring Malaysia and joined the South China Sea. And in the distance, she could see the long, flat shapes of land masses on the horizon.
“Is that Malaysia?” she asked Toran.
“No, those are the islands in between,” he said, expertly spinning the steering wheel as the road curved suddenly inland, taking them away from the view of the sea.
A minute later, they turned off the coastal road and drove down Changi Village Road towards a large carpark. Leah saw a small stone building perched at the water’s edge at the other end of the carpark with the words “CHANGI POINT FERRY TERMINAL” inscribed on a wooden plaque in front of the entrance. She swallowed, suddenly feeling butterflies in her stomach for the first time. Until this point, she hadn’t really thought too much about what she was doing. It had seemed more like an imaginary trip you might discuss with friends—but now as she saw the queue of people waiting beside the boats moored along the jetty, the reality of what she was doing hit her. Unconsciously, she clenched her hands in her lap.
“You can still change your mind,” Toran said quietly.
“And what about Angela?” asked Leah.
Toran said nothing. He slid the car into a space in front of the ferry terminal and cut the engine. Leah took a deep breath and got out, slinging her holdall onto her shoulder. She walked into the terminal building and went down the steps at the back to the jetty. A group of people—several holding bicycles—were waiting beside one of the boats. Leah did a quick head count. Eleven. And now she made twelve.
“Looks like I won’t have much of a wait,” she said to Toran as he joined her. He had taken off his shades and his green eyes were dark and serious.
“Leah, listen… I did some research on satellite imagery yesterday. There’s an old, abandoned jetty on the south side of the retreat island,” said Toran. “It’s in the middle of some mangrove swamps. I’m going to bring a boat out, the day after tomorrow, and I’ll make sure that I’m at that jetty by sundown. If you don’t return before then, come and meet me there. You should be able to find it easily enough.”
“Isn’t that against the rules of the retreat?” said Leah. “Outsiders—especially men—aren’t allowed on the island”.
“I don’t give a damn about the rules of the retreat,” Toran said. “I want to know that you’re safe.”
“Toran, I’m not planning to do an Angela and just disappear! I promise you, we’ll be able to keep in touch—I’ll text you as soon as I’m in and we’ll stay in contact. Anyway, I’m hoping to be coming home the day after tomorrow.”
“One thing I learnt from being a war correspondent and reporting from the front line is that the best-laid plans often go wrong,” said Toran grimly. “You need to have a contingency.”
Leah sighed. “Okay. But I’m sure you’re overreacting. What if I can’t come to meet you because I’m in the middle of a tantric yoga class or something?”
“I’ll make sure that you get an equally good workout with me,” said Toran, with a glimmer of a smile in his green eyes.
Leah was glad to see him lighten up a bit. She stood on tiptoes and pecked him on the lips. “I just might hold you to that,” she said with a teasing smile. She turned to go, but Toran reached out and yanked her back to him, his arms sliding around her. His mouth came down on hers in a kiss that was hard and urgent, yet tender as well. Leah felt her heart kick into a racing gallop as she gave in to the demand of his mouth and her body moulded itself to the solid warmth of his. She wanted the kiss to never end.
Finally she pulled back, vaguely aware of sounds of disapproval from the queue near them. Public displays of affection were generally frowned upon in conservative Asia and “indecent” behaviour could actually get you jailed or fined under Singapore law. She put her hands on Toran’s chest and pushed him gently away from her.
“You’re going to get me arrested before I even get to the island,” she said with a laugh.
“Maybe that’s the only way to keep you safe,” said Toran. But he released her and Leah hurried to join the line of people starting to board the boat. If she didn’t go now, the look in Toran’s eyes would weaken her resolve. She handed the ferryman her ticket money and stepped into the boat.
“Leah!”
She paused and looked back.
Toran came to the end of the jetty, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the sky. “Be careful.”
CHAPTER 14
Pulau Ubin was one of the last spots in Singapore which had not been swallowed up in the rush for urban development. As its name—which meant “Granite Island” in Malay—suggested, it was once a centre for granite quarrying, but now the abandoned quarries were slowly becoming overgrown with vegetation and filled with water. Most visitors now were tourists and locals who came here to experience a slice of the “old way of life” no longer found in the hustle and bustle of metropolitan Singapore. There were hardly any motorised vehicles on the island, even fewer roads, transport was mostly by bicycle, and you shared the dirt tracks with wild pigs, stray dogs, and giant monitor lizards. It was also one of the last places where you could see the old-style kampongs—traditional villages of wooden houses on stilts—that once covered mainland Singapore.
The ride across the water to Pulau Ubin was barely ten minutes and Leah soon found herself standing on the island’s wooden jetty, watching the other passengers hurry off to hire bicycles from the stalls nearby or wheel their own bikes onto the tracks leading out from the village. The sun was strong in the sky now and already the cool of morning was disappearing in a wave of humid heat that brought beads of sweat to her forehead. Something hummed, high-pitched, near her ear and Leah slapped at her neck. Too late. Damn. She had heard that the mosquitoes could be voracious on the island and, belatedly, Leah remembered that she hadn’t brought any insect repellent.
Scratching at her neck, Leah walked over to a stall and bought herself a fresh drinking coconut. She sucked the cool, sweet juice up the straw and felt slightly better. She was just wondering which of the wooden bumboats moored by the jetty to approach when she heard a voice behind her.
“Miss Fisher?”
Leah turned. She almost didn’t recognise the blonde woman standing in front of her. Then the woman smiled, showing dazzling white teeth.
“Crystal,” Leah said, trying to hide her surprise. Gone was the bright pink lip gloss and corporate pencil-skirt outfit. Instead, Crystal was wearing some kind of loose cotton sarong kebaya—a traditional South East Asian blouse-dress with a sarong underskirt—a bit similar to the uniform worn by the Singapore Airlines flight stewardesses. Her face was bare of make-up, which made her look a lot younger, although her eyes were as e
mpty as ever.
“Congratulations on being accepted to Sanctum Bona Dea. I’m sure you’ll love being part of our community.” Crystal’s lips stretched even wider. “Are you on your way to the retreat?”
“Yes,” said Leah. “I was just wondering how to hire a boat to take me there.”
“What a lucky coincidence! I’m just heading out there myself. Come with me.”
She led Leah over to one of the bumboats, said something to the captain, and climbed on board. Leah saw the captain’s face close as soon as he heard the words “Sanctum Bona Dea” and now, as he propelled the boat out into the water, she noticed that he kept glancing over at them with something that was almost like fear in his eyes.
I’m letting Toran’s paranoia get to me, thought Leah. She turned away and watched as they glided away from Pulau Ubin, towards a smaller island about five kilometres away. The bumboat pulled in alongside a small wooden jetty and the captain barely gave them enough time to climb out before he’d turned the boat around and was speeding back to Pulau Ubin.
“What was wrong with him?” asked Leah.
“What do you mean?” asked Crystal.
Leah opened her mouth, looked at Crystal’s blank, white smile, and shut it again. “Nothing,” she said, shouldering her holdall and following the blonde woman from the jetty.
This island was like a miniature copy of Pulau Ubin. Instead of a whole village by the waterside jetty, there was just one wooden hut on stilts with a sign attached to its side. Leah saw the words “WELCOME TO SANCTUM BONA DEA” crudely carved onto the sign, together with a line drawing of a naked woman with long hair caught up in a Roman style.
A path led past the hut into the forest. Unlike the dirt tracks on Pulau Ubin, though, this one had stones carefully laid in a row, along its edge, so that the overall effect was rather pretty. Leah walked a few steps behind Crystal, peering into the undergrowth around her. The path was surrounded by rows of rubber trees, several with metal spigots driven into their trunks to tap them for latex, and Leah’s shoes crunched over the empty shells of fallen rubber seeds. Something moved in the branches above and she craned her neck to see a long, furry tail disappearing around a tree trunk. A macaque monkey—one of the natives of these islands. Another rustle in the bushes to her right made her turn sharply, only to see a hairy brown-grey hump moving purposefully beside a rock. A wild pig, rooting for food.
“You’ll see a lot of those on the islands,” said Crystal, glancing back. “If you have food on you, they can smell it and they can get pretty cheeky!”
It was cooler here under the foliage, out of the direct sun, and Leah was grateful, although the mosquitoes seemed just as vicious. She slapped futilely at her bare arm and cursed herself again for forgetting the insect repellent.
The path curved around a clump of palm trees and widened suddenly into a clearing. On the far side of the clearing was a tall double gate, with high wooden fencing extending outwards on either side, disappearing into the forest. A fenced compound.
The gate had the same sign as the hut, with a slightly larger picture of the Roman goddess next to the retreat name, and the wood was polished to a rich shine. Together with the ornate carvings on the pillars on either side of the gate and the bright fuchsia blossoms of a large bougainvillea vine covering half the fence, it would have looked almost like the entrance to a posh resort hotel—if it weren’t for the barbed wire that ran, spikes glittering, along the top of the fence.
“That seems a bit extreme,” Leah said to Crystal, nodding to the wire.
“Well, we are a group of women in a remote location. We have to make sure that we can protect ourselves and that intruders can’t just get into the retreat easily.”
Nor can anyone get out, thought Leah. Then she berated herself. She really was letting Toran’s worries get to her. Straightening her shoulders, she followed Crystal as the blonde woman pulled a bell beside the gate. A rectangular gap slid open in the gate at eye level. Leah realised that there was a postern—a smaller door—cut into the gate, with a rectangular peephole window. A pair of eyes peered at them from the inside, then slowly the door swung open.
Leah followed Crystal inside, stepping over the raised bottom ledge of the doorway and hearing the door shut with a final thud behind her. She found herself in a lush tropical garden, filled with gorgeous fan palms, cool green ferns, spiky-leaved bromeliads, and a riot of colour from orchids and other exotic blooms. Somewhere nearby, she could hear the musical tinkle of a water fountain and, as she inhaled, she caught the sweet, delicate scent of jasmine.
“Oh!” said Leah, a delighted smile coming to her face. Somehow, with Toran’s dire warnings about cults buzzing in her head, this peaceful, tropical garden of paradise was not what she had expected at all.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Crystal looked back at Leah, smiling. She was already halfway up the path leading through the garden, following the other woman who had opened the door for them. “Our members find the gardens very soothing.”
Leah hurried to keep up. The path through the gardens led to a central courtyard, surrounded by various dwellings. Several women were strolling around. They all wore a similar sarong kebaya to Crystal’s, in a pale shade of lavender. Leah’s heartbeat quickened for a moment when she saw a slim girl with long, black hair, then sank in disappointment when the girl turned around and she realised that it wasn’t Angela. This girl was much younger, her face round and sweet, although her eyes were downcast. She hurried past Leah without looking at her. Leah wondered if she was very shy.
In fact, shyness seemed to be something that was affecting all the members of the retreat. Leah frowned, realising that none of them would meet her eyes. She was just about to go up to two women standing by a coconut palm and strike up conversation, maybe try to ask about Angela, when Crystal grabbed her arm.
“I’ll show you where your bed is,” the blonde woman said with her crocodile smile.
“Oh—I thought I’d say hello to a few people, get to know the other members…” Leah tried to pull her elbow out of the other woman’s grasp, but Crystal’s grip tightened.
“You’ll have plenty of time for that.” Crystal’s smile didn’t falter. “It’s best to get settled in first.”
Leah acquiesced. “Okay.” There was no rush anyway, she decided. The retreat didn’t look that big. She was sure she would find Angela relatively easily. “Does the fence go all the way around the compound?” she asked as she followed Crystal across the courtyard.
“No, the back of the compound faces the water so the fence only goes out to the water’s edge on both sides. It forms a sort of semi-circle around the compound, with the waterfront along the flat side.”
Leah wondered if Toran’s abandoned jetty was in the section that was within the semi-circle or outside. And if it was outside, how easily could she leave the compound to meet him?
As if reading her mind, Crystal said, “Members are not advised to leave the compound by themselves. It can be dangerous out in the forest, especially at night. Only about a year ago, a man was found dead on Pulau Ubin by a group of crab catchers. They think that he may have been a visitor from the mainland—some nature lover who wandered into the forest and got lost, maybe slipped and fell or got bitten by a snake. They found his body rotting in a pond.” She came closer to Leah, her eyes dilating. “When they found him, a monitor lizard was eating his corpse.”
Leah shivered and looked away. She didn’t like to admit it, but the woman was creeping her out. She cleared her throat and forced a laugh. “Well, I’m more of a beach person than a forest hiker anyway.”
“There isn’t really a proper beach here,” said Crystal. “There are mangrove swamps all along the water’s edge. But you’d want to be careful going into the water. It can get very deep, especially with the mangroves growing in clumps, and the root formations are very slippery. Plus there are snakes.” She smiled. “The marbled sea snake is very common in these waters. And the shore pit viper
, in particular, loves the mangroves. Very aggressive, very venomous snake. But beautiful to look at… sort of dark grey with almost purple scales… I love snakes, don’t you?”
“Er… no… not really,” said Leah, staring at the other woman.
“Oh, what a shame. There are nearly twenty species native to these islands. You’ll probably see quite a few if you leave the compound. Of course…” She laughed. “If you do meet any of them, they might just be the last thing you see. Snakes can be very unpredictable and, unless you’re an experienced local, you wouldn’t know how to avoid them.” She paused. “So I would think very carefully, Miss Fisher, before you leave the compound without an escort.”
Leah said nothing, but she couldn’t help thinking, as she followed Crystal towards one of the bigger dwellings, that the blonde woman’s last words sounded like a threat.
CHAPTER 15
“Here we are…” Crystal led Leah up some steps and into one of the long, rectangular huts.
Inside, past a bamboo bead curtain, was a single large room with a row of beds. Each bed had a mosquito net hanging above it, the white veils of fabric looped up on either side. Two large ceiling fans wafted cool air through the room. It wasn’t quite as good as air-conditioning, but the dwelling itself seemed to be a lot cooler than expected. Perhaps it was the kampong design of being raised up on stilts, so that air could circulate underneath. A few women were sitting or standing around the beds, talking in low voices. They looked up as Crystal and Leah entered, and their faces wiped of all expression. Lowering their heads, they quickly shuffled out.
“…and this is where you will sleep.” Crystal showed Leah an empty bed halfway down the room.
