How to Find Your (First) Husband

by Rosie Blake

‘No, no Andrew,’ she said, patting me on the shoulder.

  It was then that a couple walked past the table, joining a small crowd of people who had gathered at the mouth of the stream that ran down the side of the bar. A little girl was pointing over the bank into the water and I watched her face light up with excitement, tugging on the hem of her mother’s skirt.

  ‘What’s all that about?’ I asked, burying the disappointment of another dud.

  ‘Every evening people come to see the monitor lizards swim there,’ she said, a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

  ‘Monitor lizards?’ I repeated, lifting up my feet auto­matically; I’d never been overly keen on reptiles.

  ‘Take a look, they don’t hurt,’ she said, smiling at me.

  Taking my beer I walked over to the edge of the group peering down into the stream, the water a muddy reflection of plants and trees. Then a sudden movement in the shallows and a smooth, slimy-looking head appeared with beady eyes and a stubby snout for a nose. Its stumpy legs paddled furiously in the water, its snake-like body one big muscle. Another head emerged and I could feel my mouth hang open at the unfamiliar sight. They were elegantly repulsive and I felt a small hint of alarm whenever one of their heads disappeared from view. The buzz of my mobile phone made me squeak and some of the onlookers spun round to look at me.

  ‘Sorry,’ I whispered, reaching to press ‘Answer’.

  ‘Mel,’ I whispered, backing away, ‘I have just seen the biggest f’ing lizard ever.’

  ‘Is that a euphemism?’

  ‘What? No, I have actually just seen a massive lizard. They’re huge, Mel, like dinosaurs.’

  ‘Nice,’ Mel said. ‘Will you take photos?’

  ‘Maybe, it was enormous.’

  Mel started giggling on the other end. ‘Wow, Iz, I haven’t heard you this enamoured in a while.’

  Sitting back down at my circular table, I grinned down the phone at her. ‘Maybe it’s my future. I could be Queen of the Lizards.’

  ‘Well we’re not there yet. Or are we? How’s the hunt going?’

  ‘Waste of time,’ I grunted.

  ‘Oh dear. Now look, I can’t be long because frankly phoning you makes working for a living a bit pointless but I wanted you to check your emails as I’m sending you some info about a new TV job over here. I think you’ll be perfect; honestly, it’s just the kind of thing you are looking for.’

  ‘Trying to get me home, eh?’ I said, feeling a lurch for Mel and her silly face.

  ‘Maybe. Right, I really do have to go, Dex has been acting we-i-rd recently and he has SUMMONED me to dinner. Shit, do you think he’s going to break up with me?’

  ‘Er, no, you two are completely brilliant together and he loves you.’

  ‘He does, doesn’t he, and who wouldn’t, I am great!’

  ‘And modest,’ I added.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, gotta go, love you, Lizard Girl.’

  There was a commotion as I was signing off and I turned to look at what was going on, fully expecting to see a lizard or some kind of reptile taking off, a crowd of people snapping in its wake. It was the waitress, though, making a determined line for my table.

  ‘Andrew,’ she said, streaking towards me, a vison in bright green. ‘He know Andrew,’ she said pulling over what I could only guess was her teenage son, the smattering of an early beard sprouting on his chin.

  I felt a little flicker in my stomach as the boy was pushed in front of me, his mother panting behind him. Was this it? Hope drove me to ask him in a careful voice, ‘Andrew Parker, you have met him?’

  The boy nodded quickly.‘I say, he and friend like Arsenal. They come here to watch game.’ He pointed over his shoulder to a television screwed into the corner of the wall behind him.

  ‘Really,’ I said, breaking into a smile, not yet ready to believe it. Had I found him? Was this it?

  ‘Where is he? Do you know?’

  Chapter 20

  Loading up my rucksack with just the essentials (bottle of water, towel, insect repellent, map, sun cream, binoculars, pressed powder, eyeliner, lip salve, bikini, photo of Internet Andrew Parker, lucky charm in shape of a troll doll on a key ring), I tied my hair back in a ponytail, did a last check of my appearance in the mirror and left the hut behind. I would be trekking across the centre of the island to the East Coast, through the forest and was supposed to follow the telegraph poles if I didn’t want to get lost/eaten by something wild and creepy. The journey would take me between two and a half and three hours. Andrew was staying on the other side of the island, the waitress – Nor – and her son Haziq had been certain of it. He had been over there for a week or so and had come in to watch some sport in their bar. Juara beach was my destination. It sounded ideal.

  It had seemed romantic, a trek across the island, me appearing like Model Student on a Geography Field Trip. Andrew impressed: tick. But by the entrance to the forest, a half mile up from the hotel resort, I was already sweating and had drunk half of my bottled water. The sun seemed to be an unrelenting ball of lava overhead and there was not a cloud around. From the incline I was standing on to my left I could see the stretch of tempting ocean reaching for miles, children playing in the shallows, others lying on towels on the beach. I could go back and arrange a 4x4 across the island, but I wasn’t sure how to find one and whether I’d have to wait another day. I dived into the forest before I could change my mind, focusing on the reason for doing this. Andrew.

  Ducking under stray branches and hearing the buzz of the jungle, I flinched as something shot out from a nearby bush. The light was speckled and everything had a greenish tinge to it. The air smelled of damp earth and throbbed with the hum of a thousand insects. The island guide did mention that Tioman was home to giant rhinoceros beetles (excellent!), but others had clearly walked this path; the trail was flattened and eleven kilometres wasn’t that far. I’d done a half marathon in LA the year before, so throw in a little incline, some pit stops to drink water and check the map and I could surely make it by lunch.

  The path wound higher, narrowing and twisting, and the backs of my calves were burning with the effort. My plimsolls weren’t the best at gripping things so it was hard-going on the sloped earth. Flat-leaved plants nibbled on by insects crowded along the edges of the path as tree roots snaked across the track leaving bumps and knots to trip over. I patted fruitlessly at my forehead for the twentieth time and kept my eyes focused on where I was going. Just up ahead, bold as you like, in the centre of the path was one small monkey, hunched over examining something in his little monkey paws.

  He looked up at me through miniature lashes, his round eyes curious as I approached him. Smiling, pathetically pleased for the company, I went to look in my bag for something to offer him. Lip salve wasn’t probably the thing. Rummaging deeper and making encouraging ‘cooing’ noises so he wouldn’t scuttle away, I paused, alert, as a hissing noise to my right grew louder. Spinning in the direction of the noise, I could feel my heart jumping in my chest. A nearby bush shook violently and three more monkeys bounded out of it. Then I heard the whoosh and disturbance of more foliage, and two more swung off low branches. That was a lot of monkeys. And they weren’t looking cute any more; they had their mouths open, teeth on full display and were hissing at me, shrieks coming from the backs of their throats so that I backed off, hands held high. They continued to spit, little round eyes cold and menacing. They were a family of Devil Monkeys. Even the original monkey had strutted across to stand behind his buddies and seemed to be smirking at me as if to say, ‘Ha, fool woman, I coaxed you in with my little paws and my coy little look from my cute tiny eyes and you FELL for it. I am a GENIUS monkey, moo ha ha.’

  How was I going to get round this British Bulldog line-up of monkeys? They were still hissing and one of them had circled around and seemed to be coming in from the rear like he was Commando-trained. Any moment I expected anoth
er to roll in, knife in his teeth, to seal my fate. There was only one thing for it; animals knew when humans were afraid, so I couldn’t act afraid. It was dog logic but I assumed it might work for monkeys, too, so I did what any self-respecting woman on her own would do; I straightened both my arms in the air, opened my mouth wide, screamed and ran forward shouting, ‘CHAAARGGGGGGEEE!’

  Monkeys scattered EVERYWHERE before me. I ran on, dipping and diving and keeping up the screaming just in case they were after me and might swing on tendrils to block me, then I realised I had screamed my way off the beaten path and the flattened foliage and I was in the middle of a buzzing forest, crawling with life, and was alone. I lowered my arms and then, someway off to my right, heard a splash.

  Do I walk towards the noise or away from the noise? What could be big enough to make a splash? Shark! No, no sea. I’m in jungle, Isobel, think. Crocodile? No, the guide did not have anything about them. They did have information about the monitor lizards. Giant ones. I could picture one now, a slithering, juddering long lizard frantically walking on four crooked legs splashing about in a bog of slime. I turned to search for the path in the opposite direction, but then another hiss not far from me got me screaming again and yelling, ‘Charge!’ Running away from the hissing, I stumbled past bushes and trees straight into a clearing, hands still high, mouth still open and then heard another cry, a deep shout of fear and a naked man standing on a rock holding his heart and panting.

  ‘What the fuck?’ he said, bent double.

  Breathing heavily, I lowered my arms, mouth still hanging open.

  Zeb turned towards me. ‘Iz, what ARE you doing? You basically just gave me a heart attack.’

  With absolutely no attempt to cover himself up, Zeb admonished me. I averted my eyes, feeling my whole body get hotter and hotter, like a light was shining straight on to me. ‘I, the monkey, I didn’t—’ I got a hold of myself as he slipped into the pool next to his rock.

  Losing sight of his buttocks helped give me a little more confidence. ‘What do you mean, what am I doing? What are you doing out here, splashing about?’

  ‘It’s called swimming, Iz, people do it as a leisure activity.’

  ‘Well I know what you were doing but obviously it was quite a shock to see, you know, what you were wearing to do it in.’ I rolled my shoulders, trying to keep my voice steady.

  Zeb raised an eyebrow. ‘If it hadn’t escaped your notice, I thought I was alone and having a lovely uninterrupted swim in my birthday suit. It’s hugely refreshing. You should try it.’

  I bristled. ‘Well I can’t, I am trekking,’ I said with my nose in the air.

  ‘Suit yourself, Edmund Hillary.’

  Clutching my side, I paused for breath. The whole monkey chase had worked me into more of a dripping mess. Slowing my breathing, I took in the scenery. It was the most incredible copse. Rocks burst out of the earth and disappeared up into the trees, a small waterfall tumbling through them to the pool below throwing up white froth as it smacked the surface. The pool itself was olive green, the ripples made by Zeb the only things disrupting the surface. It looked incredibly relaxing and I was well aware of the beads of sweat on my hairline, in between my clothes, trickling down my spine. The bottle of water had long gone and I gulped, tempted to whip off my T-shirt and dive in.

  But then I looked at Zeb’s face, peaceful as he paddled around the place, and I felt a shot of resentment fire through me. I looked at him with his ‘I am so at-one-with-the-island’ face and his ‘I’m so laid-back,-me,-I-don’t-need-clothes’ and knew I couldn’t. As enticing as it would be to place a toe into the cool, deep water, I couldn’t join him in there.

  ‘I need to get on,’ I said sniffily, like I was justifying things to myself.

  Zeb continued to breaststroke about the place, dipping his head back and then standing up to flick it back like he was some kind of merman in a porno.

  ‘Come on, Iz, I won’t look, you have to get in here, it’s just brilliant.’ He flicked water towards me and then roared with laughter.

  ‘Stop it, I have to get across the island,’ I said in a tight voice I didn’t recognise as my own. Why was I being like this? I needed to calm down; he didn’t mean anything by it and, anyway, I had just run screaming into his private pool party – what did I expect? Turning, I didn’t see the tangled roots of a nearby tree and found myself lurching forward to land in the soil, amongst the leaves, pebbles and debris.

  ‘Ow,’ I squealed.

  ‘You okay?’ Zeb called.

  The pain made me more abrupt than I’d meant. ‘I’m bloody fine thanks, bloody fine.’

  Feeling hot tears of humiliation sting the back of my eyes, I blinked once and went to get up, body aching. I could feel mud sticking to the side of my face and I was fairly certain I had twigs and leaves stuck in my hair. Zeb was looking at me with real concern on his face, clearly uncertain whether to risk emerging from the pool and over in my direction where he might have his head snapped off. Or worse.

  ‘Get in, you’ll feel so much better. I am turning away so you can get changed,’ he called.

  I brushed leaves and soil off my clothes, damp with sweat and suncream.

  ‘I don’t need t…’

  ‘If you do, I will even escort you to the other side of the island. I’ve worked out a way from here. Iz?’

  ‘Gah. Okay, okay, I give up, I’m coming, look away then,’ I said, waving one arm at him and dumping my bag on the floor.

  Hopping quickly into my bikini and leaving my clothes in a pile, I stepped gingerly into the water, gasping at the sudden change in temperature. My ankles stung as I kept walking over the flat ledge of rock and then stepped into the pool itself. Water flooded over my legs and quickly around my stomach which had already developed a tan, deeper against the white of the bikini. Plunging my head back, I felt instant relief as the sharp cold washed around me. Running my hands through my hair, I waded towards the middle of the pool. Standing up and flicking back my hair, the water up to my hips, I realised Zeb was still looking towards the rocks away from me.

  ‘You can turn around now,’ I said, feeling a little foolish.

  He did and there was a moment where I thought I could see something cross his face. A look I couldn’t place and then it was gone in a whisper as he smiled at me. ‘Told you.’

  ‘Yes, yes, well done,’ I said, swimming away from him towards the waterfall, remembering briefly that Zeb was completely naked and in the same pool as me. If the water hadn’t been so cold, I might have turned red.

  Clutching a couple of rocks and hauling myself up onto them, I closed my eyes as the water from the waterfall smacked over my head and shoulders. It was an incredible feeling; gentle thumping on my back as it struck me and soothed. Gasping in pleasure, I pictured myself in one of those exotic shampoo adverts and wondered whether there was a better experience in the world than this.

  Moving away from the waterfall, I flung my arms wide and looked up towards the canopy of trees. The sun was still above us, finding the cracks and gaps between the leaves and making the pool sparkle and shimmer in those spots. Zeb had looked across at me and was now choking back a laugh, half-turning away from me.

  I frowned. ‘What’s so funny?’

  Zeb had his back to me. ‘You might want to adjust your attire.’

  I looked down, feeling my eyebrows knit together, and then froze in horror as I was greeted with one rather large lone white breast.

  ‘Oh,’ I breathed, hauling my bikini top back from where it had slipped sideways.

  ‘I knew that waterfall was good for something,’ Zeb said, his back shaking, the muscles in his back rippling as he giggled to himself.

  ‘Ha, ha, very funny,’ I said, embarrassed.

  I stomped out of the pool and over to my clothes, wanting to get away from this clearing and Zeb’s mocking laughter.

 
‘Don’t worry, we all do things that make us feel like a bit of a tit sometim—’ He stopped mid-sentence and slapped a hand over his mouth, not before letting out a bark of laughter. ‘Sorry, slip of the tongue,’ he choked.

  Stepping into my shorts and pulling my vest top over my head, I fumbled to put my shoes back on.

  ‘Hey, don’t ignore me, Iz, I would get out and apologise properly but I’m naked and I’m not sure you would appreciate that.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said in a voice much higher than my own. ‘I’m glad I amuse you.’

  ‘Oh come on, Iz, I’m kidding, wait for me to come with you, we can walk tog—’

  ‘No, I need to get on,’ I said, tying my hair back in a tight ponytail and feeling droplets of water drip down my spine. Picking up my bag and avoiding his eyes completely, I left the way I had arrived, determined to find the nearest telegraph pole and the path to the beach.

  ‘Have it your own way. Up there, take a right on the path,’ he called.

  As I left the clearing and started walking again, I felt a pang of regret for snapping at him. I was pretty sure I should have seen the funny side and I’d behaved a little like a petulant child. But he had the ability to push my buttons no end. He would be swimming about down there, laughing at me again. He wouldn’t care. Delighted at finding the path, I turned right and headed towards Juara, cursing myself for thinking of Zeb’s bottom when I got bored.

  Chapter 21

  Emerging at the edge of the forest, I blinked and realised with an overwhelming sense of wonder that I had done it. I had trekked, navigated. I was an explorer. IN YOUR FACE, Gold D of E instructor, now who doesn’t have the mental fortitude for hard work? Ha! I could climb mountains, swim oceans… Mostly, though, I was in desperate need of food and water. I seemed to have burst out of the forest at one end of a large strip of beach that curved inland as if it were an enormous sandy smile. A floating man-made raft lay a hundred yards offshore and the sea was completely still, protected from the rocks and forest from the wind.