The Beach

'He isn't dead until he stops breathing.'

'OK…' I thought hard for a couple of seconds. 'So what if we stop him breathing. We could cover up his mouth. It would only take five minutes.'

'No.'

'You don't have to do it. I'll do it for you. You could hold his hand or something. It would be a nice way for him to go. It would be very tranquil and…'

'Fuck it, Richard!' Jed snapped, spinning his head round and looking at me for the first time. But as soon as he did so, his expression softened. I was biting my lip again. I didn't like Jed shouting at me.

'Look,' he said. 'Christo should be dead by tonight, so I should be able to come with you.'

'But…'

'Now why don't you go? I don't think Sal would like it if you were in here.'

'…No, but…'

'You'll check on me before you leave.'

I sighed. Jed turned back to Christo. I stuck around for a minute or so, then backed out of the tent.

Outside, I saw Keaty scurrying off towards the Khyber Pass with an armful of something soggy and unrecognizable in his arms. When he came back I asked him what he was doing.

'I took the dope out of the cooking pots,' he explained, drying his sticky chest with a T-shirt. He smelt of lemon grass and his hands were shaking.

'What?'

'I had to. It kept floating to the surface. Unhygienix would have seen it immediately. But it was in there for an hour so…'

'Your shorts,' I said.

'Shorts?'

'They're covered in stew. Go and change them.'

His eyes flicked down. 'Shit!'

'Just go and change them. It's no big deal.'

'Change them. Right.'

Before he'd returned, the rest of the camp began pouring into the clearing. Singing, laughing, arm in arm. Tet was about to kick off.

Potchentong

Take a green coconut, still up in the tree, and cut a small incision in its base. Under the incision, hang a flask to catch the dripping milk. Then leave it for a few hours. When you come back, you'll find that the milk has fermented and that if you drink it you'll get pissed. A neat trick. It tastes OK; a bit sugary, but OK. I was surprised I'd never seen it done before.

Thanks to the gardeners, we all had coconut-shell cups filled with the moonshine beer. 'Down in one!' Bugs was shouting. 'Down the hatch!' And people had fizzy juice running over their chins and chests. Francoise was eyeing Keaty, and Etienne was eyeing me, and we had more running over our chins than anyone else.

Bugs finished his cup first and kicked it into the jungle like it was a football. It must have fucking hurt, like kicking a lump of wood. But the idea caught on and just about everyone had a crack, and soon the clearing was filled up with people hopping around, clutching a foot, giggling like crazy. 'Hopping mad,' I said to Keaty, but he didn't get the joke.

'Sal keeps staring at me,' he whispered. 'She knows something. Should I kick the coconut? What if I break my foot? Would you leave me behi…' He interrupted himself by dropping the shell and punting it. His face screwed up with the pain and he let out a yell louder than all the others. 'Did it,' he gasped. 'Is she still looking?' I shook my head. She never had been looking anyway.

When Jean began to produce a second round of drinks, I manoeuvred myself around to where Francoise and Etienne were standing. I partly did it to get away from Keaty, whose jumpiness didn't seem helped by my presence. I think it reminded him of what was going on.

Francoise was putting in a great performance. If she was feeling the tension, I'd never have guessed it. Externally, she seemed to be in the party spirit one hundred per cent. When I walked up she gave me a flamboyant hug and a kiss on each cheek, and loudly said, 'This is all so wonderful!'

'I mentally congratulated her. She was even taking the performance through to slightly slurring her words, and not overdoing it either. Getting it exactly right.

'Can I have a kiss too?' said Jesse, nudging one of the carpenters.

'No,' Francoise replied with a dizzy smile. 'You are too ugly.'

Jesse clasped one hand to his heart and the other to his forehead. 'I'm too ugly! I'm too ugly for a kiss!'

'That's right,' said Cassie. 'You are.' She gave him her beer. 'Here. You'd better drown your sorrows.'

'I think I should!' Tipping his head back, he drained the liquid in one slurp and tossed the empty vessel behind him. 'But you still love me, don't you, Caz?'

'Not when you call me Caz, Jez.'

'Caz!' he howled. 'Caz! Jez! Caz!' Then he scooped her up in his arms and began staggering off towards the longhouse.

A couple of minutes later Etienne was called over to help carry the food to the eating area, and Francoise and I were left alone. She said something to me, but I didn't catch it because I was concentrating on something else. By the kitchen hut I'd seen Unhygienix tasting some of the stew with a puzzled frown.

'You are not listening to me,' Francoise said.

Unhygienix shrugged and began organizing the cooking-pot carriers.

'You never listen to me any more. Before, if I was talking to you, you would always listen. But now you have no time to even talk to me.'

'Yeah… Has Keaty told you not to eat the stew?'

'Richard!'

I frowned. 'What?'

'You are not listening to me!'

'…Oh. Well, I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind.'

'Not me.'

'Huh?'

'I am not on your mind.'

'Uh… Of course you are.'

'I am not.' She poked me in the ribs. 'I think you do not love me any more.'

I looked at her in astonishment.' …Are you serious?'

'Very serious,' she said petulantly

'But… I mean… Do we have to talk about this right now? I mean, of all times, does it have to be right now?'

'Yes. It must be now. Etienne is not here, and maybe soon I will never see you agai…'

'Francoise!' I hissed. 'Keep it down!'

'Maybe I should keep it down, but maybe I should not. In the dope field, when I would not be quiet, you pushed me to the ground and held me tightly.' She giggled. 'It was very exciting.'

With a quick look around, I linked my arm in her elbow and began propelling her away towards the edge of the clearing. Once we were out of sight of the others I turned her round, held her head between my hands, and looked carefully at her pupils. They were all over the place. 'Oh my God,' I said furiously. 'You're drunk.'

'Yes,' she admitted. 'I am. It was this potchentong.'

'Potchentong? What the fuck are you talking about?'

'Jean calls the drink potchentong. It is not the real potchentong, but…'

'How much have you had?'

'Three cups.'

'Three? When?'

'With the football. The game.'

'You idiot! '

'I had no choice! They were passing around the shell, and you had to drink it all. They were watching and clapping, so what could I do?'

'Christ! Did Etienne drink some too?'

'Yes. Three cups.'

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Or meant to. That shit never works. I stopped when I was on about four.

'Right,' I said. 'Come with me.'

'Where are we going?'

'Over here.'

Francoise gasped as I pulled her behind a tree.

'Open your mouth,' I instructed.

'Are you going to kiss me?'

The infuriating thing is I'm sure that if I had tried to kiss her, she'd have let me. She was that drunk. But I had to shake my head.

'No, Francoise,' I replied. 'Not exactly.'

She bit my fingers really fucking hard when I stuck them down her throat. And she struggled and squirmed like a snake. But I was holding her with a vice-grip around her neck, and once the fingers were in, there wasn't a lot she could do about it.