They had gone to Pulau Kelapa in mid-week, a quiet time for the island resort. The beach lay empty. A few Europeans had come to the island to dive, or perhaps just to drink and lounge. A quiet old Chinese couple sat at the bar, fully dressed and looking a little out of place.
Sherry watched a small group of Malay men, sitting at one of the tables. They had beer glasses in front of them. Perhaps they felt they were in a ‘foreign’ environment here and could drink without criticism. Or perhaps they belonged to the rich and educated classes and drank anyway. In their centre, a slim Malay man with mixed features held court, smiling and leading the discussion. He looked important.
A chatter of girls’ voices, and two young Indonesian women came into the restaurant. The other guests stared as they tapped up to the men’s table. They were twins, and very beautiful. Wrapped tightly in traditional and matching batik sarongs and short kebayas, they swayed as they walked. The men made space for them and welcomed them into the conversation.
After they had eaten, Sherry returned to their balcony to read, but Tim felt restless. He scrounged an old windsurfing board and a canoe paddle, and went off to visit the reef. Laying her book face down on the table, Sherry sat back and watched as he paddled to board out to the reef. He sat up to fit his mask and snorkel, then lay with his face in the sea. He could drift for hours over the reef. Tim never seemed to tire of watching the fish and the coral, just below in all their glory.
He returned in time to call Sherry for volleyball. Every evening the resort staff set up a volleyball game on the sand under the coconut palms, yielding places to the guests if they had to, but enjoying the game themselves whenever they could. They also enjoyed socializing with foreigners, especially attractive, glamorous blondes like Sherry. They cared for her, gave her easy passes and clapped when she scored. She knew she should feel scornful, but they were only trying to be kind. Beautiful girls in sexy bikinis have an obligation to be gracious.
They slept a little and went late to dinner. It felt very pleasant to eat well, drink a little and chat with other lazy people, all with the moonlight bathing the sea just over the beach. Tim was fading fast and wanted to return to their hut; Sherry decided she would walk alone on the beach for a while before turning in.
Sherry strolled at the water’s edge. The moon gave light enough to glaze the white coral sand, and the water felt warm over her toes. Every now and then she would start a beach crab that made a dash for the sea and safety. She reached the far end of the beach and looked back. The blackness of the jungle behind the beach was solid below its palm fringe. The restaurant made a beacon of bright orange light flaring onto the sea, but either side of it the huts sat in darkness. Beyond the restaurant, where Tim waited in their hut, the coconut palms came down to the water and the beach turned away from her out of sight. She made her way slowly back.
When she reached the coconut palms near the water’s edge, she left the beach to walk behind them and heard a strange noise. An animal crying perhaps? It was coming from the sea beyond the palms. She crept quietly through the darkness.
She could just make out the beach and, as she moved nearer, a group of people at the water’s edge. The noise, a rhythmic moaning, came from them. She stopped still and let her eyes adjust. Men, in swimming trunks she supposed, although the water was too deep to be sure. Then one of them moved and the moonlight picked out a girl, one of the Indonesian girls from the restaurant, with her hair wet and slicked back. She moved again and the moon shone on her naked breasts. She was looking down, at the water, into the cluster of men. From where the moaning came.
A shock hit Sherry. The moaning came from a woman. The men were doing something to a woman, presumably the other twin. Something good, because these were moans of pleasure. Her stomach dropped. She tried to peer through the darkness and make out exactly what was happening. The moaning accelerated and the water around the group became broken. They spoke in low voices, sharing the occasion.
Watching secretly was exciting and Sherry felt guilty. She moved closer to the nearest palm but did not take her eyes from the group. She thought they held the girl just afloat and someone stood between her legs. She could imagine the man thrusting into the floating girl while his friends supported her and enjoyed her excitement, and in a moment another would take his turn. And another, and perhaps her sister would be pulled down to assist. A figure moved to obscure her view and the noise sounded stifled. The moaning came now from a woman with her mouth full. How exciting, how lucky the girl was. Sherry felt her own excitement rising.
Suddenly she decided to go home. She would hurry back to their hut and make Tim do the same to her. She would show him what she had learnt. She would surprise him and make him a present of her body.
Their bedroom light was off. Tim lay naked on his bed, asleep, his body all soft light and shadows from the moon. Under his tousled hair, he looked sweet. She felt her excitement ebb out of her, and she lay down to sleep on her own bed.
Chapter 7
Tim left the hut early next morning and dragged the old windsurfer down to the water. The sun had just crested the rocky spine of the island and gilded the heads of the coconut palms along the beach. The sea lay glassy and inviting, glinting clear gold and blue. Another day in paradise. He pushed the board out and paddled to the reef.
It was busy down there. Perhaps the fish had stayed up late, before the sun drove most of them under cover. They darted or dawdled, dabs of unlikely colours over the pastels of the coral garden. No wind pushed him along this morning so without lifting his head he lazily paddled with his hands and the garden drifted slowly beneath him. In the corner of his vision a small black-tipped reef shark arrowed purposefully past, its military sleekness hinting at danger.
An opalescent cuttlefish caught his eye, hanging in the water just out of reach. Amazement held him as he watched the opal lustre ripple over the creature’s fat body. It did not move. It just hung in space and flexed its colours. He quietly slid off the board. He reached down with a foot to prod it but as his toe approached, the animal flashed into action. A cloud of sepia filled the space where it had been, and it disappeared, leaving only the impression of flurried movement. He had not seen how it had performed its vanishing trick or where it had gone. It had been there, and then it was not. He clambered back on to his board feeling privileged to have seen it, and drifted on.
A shout and a threshing in the water broke his peace, and he looked up quickly. A few meters away, someone was in trouble. He could see a black head struggling in white water. He rolled off the board and swam into the turmoil. With his face under the water he could the man’s legs kicking frantically. He came up to the man and made a grab for his hair. A flailing arm struck him and knocked his mask down around his neck. He used the man’s weight to push himself down to safety underwater. Hands gripped his neck and shoulder and he pushed himself down further until they released him. Shooting back to the surface, he grabbed a big breath and seized a reaching arm. Kicking hard, he pulled the man in the direction of the board. At last some sanity penetrated the panic and the man allowed himself to be pulled. It was only seconds to the board.
The rescued man threw himself in one movement onto the board. “Shark!” he spluttered. “There was a shark.”
Tim hurried to replace his mask and dipped below the board. Looking around, the reef no longer seemed kind and friendly. The shadows at his vision’s limit looked frightening. He could feel his heart beating. As he looked around, he slowly became aware that nothing had changed. The fish were still going about their business. Directly below him a large green parrot fish browsed unconcernedly. Flat silver fish played in the sun over a sand patch, fluttering in a swirl like dry leaves caught by the wind. He surfaced again.
The man on the board looked tense and frightened. “It was there,” he insisted.
Tim pushed his snorkel aside. “What did it look like?”
“Grey, with black bits on its tail. Be careful!”
“How big was it?”
“Big. Like me, or more. I thought it would attack. I lost my mask.”
He smiled inwardly. A black-tip had probably surprised the man, and his mask had magnified the fish. “Well, it’s gone now. Let’s go and look for your mask.” He pulled the board over to where the man had been struggling. His yellow mask and snorkel lay three metres down and it took only a moment to retrieve them.
“Here, put this back on and watch. I’ll push us in. It’s time for breakfast anyway.” Together they watched with the sun on their backs as the board left the coral and crossed white sand to the beach. He smiled at the man. “That must have been quite a fright. You’re still shaking.”
“My God yes! It was horrible, but you weren’t worried.”
“Well, I expect it was just a black-tip, and a lot smaller than you thought. Do you snorkel much?”
“No, I never did it much and then I went to England for school when I was eight. Too cold there.”
Tim was surprised. The man was clearly Malay and, wearing only loose black shorts, he looked just like any other beach user or fisherman, but if he had attended school in England, he must come from a wealthy background.
“Ah. I thought your English sounded very clear.”
The man drew himself up and smiled. “I’m sorry, let me introduce myself. Alistair,” and he held out his hand.
“Tim. Come on, take the paddle and let’s go for breakfast.”
In the restaurant Alistair ordered bacon, eggs and fried rice. Surprised at the bacon, Tim joined him.
Alistair sipped at his coffee. “Oh, that’s good. I love breakfast after a swim.”
“I love breakfast in a place like this.” The sun come up fully now and gentle ripples sparkled beyond the beach.
Their food came and they ate in silence. The Indonesian twins tapped across the restaurant floor towards them. “Selemat pagi!” they called and went to sit at a neighbouring table. Two Malay men joined them, and Tim started to recognise Alistair as the man at the centre of the group in the restaurant the day before.
“Do you know those girls?” he asked.
“They work for me. Nice, aren’t they?”
“Beautiful! I like Indonesian girls. I work out of Balikpapan.”
“You have a beautiful blonde wife and you are looking at little brown Indonesian girls?” Alistair teased him.
“Well, they’re different. They’re so, I don’t know, enthusiastic, I suppose, and good to look at.”
“I’ll have to introduce you. When your wife’s not looking, of course. I call them Faith and Hope. They’re only twins so there’s no Charity.”
Again, Tim was surprised. “Are you Christian?”
“Oh no. Staunchly Muslim, but my mother was Scottish and I went to a Christian school. That’s why I’m Alistair. My mother called me Alistair but my father would call me Ali, and everyone could be happy.”
“But you’re eating bacon.”
“Yes, I’m terrible, aren’t I? You know, there’s something about bacon in the fresh air. When you’re camping, or like this. At school it was bacon or nothing, so I got to like it. Remind me to tell you the joke about the imam and the priest sometime. Look, here’s your wife.”
When Sherry arrived for breakfast, she had a serious shock. Tim was sitting at a small table overlooking the beach, tucking into a large breakfast. He wore only his swimming shorts, like his companion. Tim looked large and pink. The other man was slim, smooth and brown with black hair and deep black eyes, and a smile that leapt back into her memory. They talked happily, like old friends, as if Tim had met the man before Sherry. Before she had knelt at his feet in an expensive Singapore hotel and played his magic flute with Ranji looking over his shoulder.
She walked towards them. The man gave no sign of recognition. Perhaps he did not know her in her old tee shirt and faded sarong.
“Come and meet Alistair, Sherry. Have breakfast with us.”
The man stood up to shake her hand. “My name is Alistair, and you are Sherry? What a pretty name.” Uncomfortably, she sat with them and ordered orange juice and toast.
“Tim has just rescued me from the jaws of death, Sherry.”
“What?” she said in surprise.
“Yes. I was snorkelling and met an enormous shark with rows and rows of teeth. He fought it off with his paddle and rescued me.”
Sherry looked at Tim with questions all over her face. He shrugged. “Well, you know, you have to do these things sometimes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true,” protested Alistair. “Well, perhaps the shark wasn’t so
very
big, but it was very frightening. Quite terrifying enough for me.”
“Tim?”
“They can be frightening. Sometimes they look bigger than they really are.”
“You told me it was safe here!”
Alistair laughed at her. “Of course it’s safe. It was just me being stupid. It was a baby shark, and it surprised me, and then Tim rescued me. So tonight, I want you to join me for dinner, so I can say thank you.”
In the shade of her verandah, Sherry thought about Alistair. In the restaurant he had been polite, friendly, and showed no sign of recognizing her. I wonder who he really is, she asked herself. Ranji had said he was a prince, a real prince. Son of the Sultan of somewhere. Sherry remembered feeling impressed and excited as they stood in the hotel corridor knocking on his door. She had expected someone grand and formal, or at least fat and pompous. Instead a lightly built man of around thirty had opened the door, dressed in running shorts and tee shirt. He smiled as he shook their hands politely and ushered them in.
“Welcome, Ranji, welcome, and your friend, of course. Come in,” He knew Ranji well, that much was clear. “How are you? And your father?”
“I am quite as well as I was this morning when we met, and my father has not changed either, although he was sad when you left him. You made him suffer with your bargaining.”