‘Okay,’ I say. I up and leave. There are no goodbyes.
On the street, I’m confused.
How did that get so fucked up so quickly? I wander and get lost but recognize a road that leads to the beach.
Maria might still be around. I follow the road because I don’t want to go back to the guesthouse with this loneliness pounding at me.
The beach is full with people hanging out, drinking, chatting. I check but it’s hard to pinpoint her. Lots of white and Japanese women sit on towels with local men beside them. I look for the volleyball nets instead. They’re further down. I spot Maria on her blue sarong.
Zander sings and plays guitar. Jacob massages Bev’s back. He stops when he sees me.
Maria squeals. ‘Look who it is.’
She jumps up to hug me and invites me to sit with them.
Jacob says hi and I say hello. Bev says hello but in a stiff voice.
‘Hi, Bev.’
She nudges her head and looks at Jacob’s face. He’s looking at me. He scoots onto the sarong beside me.
Bev announces she’s going to the bar, and stands up from her hotel towel, brushing sand off her legs. ‘Jacob, help me bring the beers down.’
He looks at her and then me and back to her. She double taps her handbag in some sort of code way that he understands.
‘I will return to you, Natalie,’ he says in a low voice, and rises.
‘How was the date with Monsieur Silver Fox?’ Maria does a Pepé Le Pew accent.
‘I’m not sure,’ I say. I tell her what happened at the beginning with his being late and the food. ‘Then he invited me around the island with him in his rented car.’
‘Woohoo,’ she says and wiggles her shoulders.
‘No, it wasn’t like that. Or maybe it was.’
‘Tell me all the sordid details.’
I sigh. ‘He asked me to go with him for two weeks. I was tempted. But like, isn’t it a bit risky asking a stranger to join you on something like this? What kind of person is he? What kind of person would I be if I agreed?’
‘Would you go round the island with me?’ Maria asks.
‘Yeah,’ I say without hesitation. ‘Of course.’
‘Well, you don’t know me or what I’m capable of.’
‘I wasn’t sure if it was some sort of romantic offer, to put it delicately.’
‘You would be his kept woman, mais oui?’ Maria smirks and says, ‘I’d have fucking done it. No questions asked. He was rich?’
‘Aren’t we all rich over here?’
‘Not Bali rich, Europe rich?’
‘Maybe, by the looks of him. Though he’s an actor so it’s hard to tell. He was graceful and he paid for all the food.’
‘Are you going with him?’
‘No, I said I couldn’t.’
‘Why?’
‘I couldn’t. Like I told you already, I didn’t know what he’d expect from me for it.’
‘You’re fucking stupid to miss out on that one.’
I rub my eyebrow. ‘Am I?’
‘Most definitely. That wouldn’t be something I’d turn down. Especially if he’s cute.’
‘He’s handsome. Dashing, even,’ I say. ‘And he’s interested in me.’
Maria sucks in some air. ‘Fucking stupid.’
My toes and fingers curl. ‘Am I?’
She looks out towards the immense sea. ‘Nat, can I tell you the truth here? I am literally going to vomit if I have to look at Bev for the night. When they come back, let’s you and me, Zander and Jacob totter off to a different place. There’s a karaoke hut near the lifeguard tower that can be pretty funny.’
‘Aw, I dunno. I can’t sing well and wouldn’t it be nasty to leave Bev?’
‘Nasty?’ She laughs. ‘Bev is nasty. She’s all over Jacob and he’s not interested in her. He likes you.’
‘Jacob is married, I’m not going there.’
‘We’ll drink the beers, send her to the bar and skedaddle when she’s gone.’
‘Maria, that sounds like bullying.’
‘Bullying? Bev is a grown-ass old woman, how could it be bullying?’ She laughs again. ‘You’re such a teacher girl, Natalie.’
‘Look, this evening’s already been too much.’ I shake my head. ‘I really don’t get this place. And the lamb keeps repeating on me.’
‘Well, what are you going to do? Because I’m not hanging around that hag for much longer.’ She looks at her nails.
‘I’ll go back to the guesthouse. I have my new book. I’ll read or something.’
Maria fakes a yawn. ‘Come to the karaoke hut if you change your mind.’
‘I probably won’t. See you, Maria.’ I get up off the ground.
‘Hey, Natalie,’ Maria shouts after me. ‘Try to live a little.’
Back at the guesthouse, I read but can’t focus; instead I stare at the black patterns on the wall formed from damp, notice a tiny spotted gecko, motionless in the corner. I fold the page and put the book down.
I switch the bare bulb off and try to sleep but I keep mulling everything over in my mind. I do overthink things. Jean-Luc was right about that. Maybe there isn’t a problem in going with him? Maybe this is the opportunity of a lifetime?
‘I know how to live a little,’ I say eventually and decide what I’ll do.
I manage to drift off then.
In the morning, I put on my pedal pushers and a purple V-neck top. I still look like a tourist but maybe like I haven’t been trying too hard.
Will he be back again for brunch? Will the offer still stand? Maybe he’ll think I am too changeable, too silly for him. No, this is living. I will cast off old Natalie and be this brave, cool new person. One who goes on adventures with French actors, so breezy, so chic.
I head out, off the main street, retrace my steps back to the bookshop, and from there I get lost but eventually find the place. The light is bright but the heat isn’t too intense. I step into the restaurant and wonder what time he’ll be in. I hope I haven’t missed him. I take his seat in the corner and order a Coke. When I finish that, I slowly sip a green tea.
I’m inspecting the bamboo menu when someone comes into the courtyard and is greeted affectionately by the waitress. I hear his accent, the tone of his rich voice and I tremble a bit with excitement. I look up to the doorway, about to call and wave when I see his shirt is open, revealing his plump belly, his hairy breasts. He is turned around talking to someone who I can’t see from my table. Then he leans in and pulls the person into view by giving them a great hug. The local girl is petite with straight black hair that goes down to her ass. She wears a black vest and a short pink skirt which clings to her slight body. He kisses her on the head and cheek and then clamps her face with his hands as he kisses her mouth. I duck behind the menu. Jean-Luc and the local girl are guided to a table at the opposite side of the courtyard. They’re jovial and boisterous with the waitress; all are speaking Indonesian.
My heart pummels my chest. I drop the menu and get up, trying to leave the restaurant before I’m seen, but I can’t go out the way I came in without passing by them. Is there another way? I walk to the far end of the courtyard, take a tiny pathway between the side of the building and a roughly cemented wall, follow it, jumping over loose cables and a swampy sewage pit. I keep going until I get to a large steel bin at the end of the path. I sigh with frustration, realizing it’s a dead-end. Then I grow hot and feel trapped and hyperventilate. I can’t go back now because they’ll think I’m a thief too, having left without paying. There’s no way I can go back and get out without being obvious.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Maybe I could scale the bin and then the wall? My arms are weak as I try to hoist myself up; the bin stinks. My hand lands on top of some indeterminable brownish fatty material. I wipe the grease off my hand, and pray the bin will bear my weight as I stand on it. I grip the top of the wall. With much exertion, and swearing, I haul myself up onto it, grazing my elbows and the back of my arms.