This Way to Paradise

by Cathy Hopkins

  As we unloaded our cases from the boot, a very suntanned lady in a turquoise sarong and T-shirt came out with glasses of cold juice for us.

  ‘Pomegranate,’ she said, handing them to us. ‘Welcome. Kate, good to see you again.’

  ‘Mf,’ Kate replied. ‘Not my idea, I can tell you.’

  ‘And this is my niece, India Jane,’ said Aunt Sarah.

  ‘Welcome to Cloud Nine, India Jane,’ she said.‘I’m Charlotte Donahue. Call me Lottie, most people do.’

  Donahue? Wow. She must be Joe’s mum, I thought as she ushered us up the steps. She wasn’t what I imagined at all. She was stick thin with a mass of frizzy, greying curly hair and twinkly blue eyes. Since Kate had told me that Joe had a reputation as a bad boy, I don’t know why but somehow I’d imagined his mum to be strict and straight-looking, like an accountant who works in the city or something, someone to rebel against, anyway, but Lottie looked like she could be fun.

  Behind a desk in the reception area was a beautiful smiling Indian girl with a silver stud through her right eyebrow and a ring through her bottom lip.

  ‘Girls, this is Anisha,’ said Lottie as the girl nodded at us.

  She then looked back in the direction of the car. ‘No Joe?’ she asked.

  ‘Went into town,’ Aunt Sarah replied.

  Lottie made a resigned face, then picked up a large envelope from the reception desk and handed it to me.‘Here, India Jane. Take one of these. It’s the welcome package that we give to all of our guests. It tells you what’s happening when and where and a map of the centre. If you like, I’ll show you round then take you to your room. You’ll be sharing with Kate.’

  ‘Oh Mu-um,’ groaned Kate. ‘Can’t I at least have my own room?’

  Aunt Sarah shook her head. ‘All the singles were booked out ages ago, sweetheart. You know how popular they are. Anyhow, you’ll be fine in with India Jane.’

  Kate narrowed her eyes and tightened her mouth. Any minute now, smoke’s going to come out of her ears, I thought. I felt hurt by her reaction to sharing with me.

  Aunt Sarah gave her friend a weary look, then turned back to Kate. ‘OK Kate, that’s enough of the attitude. In fact, I think that you and I need to have that small word now,’ she said and indicated that Kate should follow her. ‘Lottie, can I hand India Jane over to you?’

  Lottie nodded.‘Course you can. We’ll take good care of her.’

  Kate rolled her eyes at me, but did as she was told and stomped after her mother into a room that looked like an office to the left of the reception.

  ‘Just you and me then,’ said Lottie as her phone rang. ‘Excuse me a mo.’

  She took her call, then came back to me. ‘Sorry, bit of an emergency in the kitchen. I’ll have to show you around later. There’s always something happening somewhere! Er . . .’ She called to the girl behind the desk.‘Anisha, could you show India Jane her room? She’s in Cloud Fifteen.’

  ‘Hey, India Jane. Cool name. Welcome,’ said Anisha, stepping out from behind the reception. ‘Follow me.’

  I picked up my bag and let her lead the way. She was barefoot, dressed in loose white trousers and a sleeveless T-shirt and her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, but there was something about her that was effortlessly stylish and elegant. I felt overdressed next to her in my red sneakers, pink T-shirt, red shirt and purple nail polish.

  The compound was busy as we walked along the path that led to the sleeping quarters. We passed several huts where I could see various groups doing different classes: some doing t’ai chi on a grass verge, others painting, others dancing.

  ‘How many people are there?’ I asked.

  ‘About sixty,’ Anisha replied. ‘There are twenty bungalows for accommodation, some for four sharing, some for two and a couple have single rooms in them.’

  It didn’t feel like there were so many rooms as we made our way along. The design of the place meant that the huts where people slept were away from the rest of the complex and were spaced at intervals down the slope, each with its own bougainvillea-covered veranda looking out over the coast and between them were the pine trees providing shade. No wonder people come here, I thought as I spotted a middle-aged man dozing in a hammock strung between two trunks. It has a really peaceful vibe.

  ‘Early morning and late afternoon is activity time,’ said Anisha, leading me past an open area between huts where a small group were practising yoga. ‘If you look in your brochure, it tells you what’s on when. Have you any idea what you’d like to do?’

  ‘Not really. Maybe some art classes.’

  ‘There are loads of those,’ said Anisha. ‘Morning and afternoon.’

  When we reached a bungalow at the bottom of the slope, Anisha unlocked the blue door and let me in.

  ‘I have to go back now,’ she said with a smile. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’

  I put my bag down and looked around. It was a light, airy room with white walls, a high open-beamed roof and a parquet floor. It smelled clean, of polish, herbs and lemons. At one end were two single beds with sky blue covers and next to them were two bedside cabinets. To the left was a pine wardrobe, a shelf with a couple of paperbacks on it and a mirror above it. On the right was a wicker sofa with a bamboo and glass coffee table in front and on that a vase with a sprig of green in it. I picked up the vase and sniffed. Rosemary. I knew the scent from Mum’s bath gel concoctions. Nice but a bit impersonal, I thought as I opened a door to the back which led to a small bathroom with a loo, shower and sink. But then it is a sort of hotel, I can’t expect it to look like Aunt Sarah’s home back in London.

  Next, I checked out the front of the bungalow where there was a narrow veranda with two wicker chairs on it. I sat down and looked out at the view. It was lovely. Sea and sky as far as the eye could see and it looked as if there was a bay behind some trees at the bottom of the slope.

  Up until that moment, I hadn’t given any thought to what it was going to be like once we got to the centre. I had been too busy objecting and then travelling, getting here. Suddenly, it felt anticlimactic. Like everything had been in motion and had suddenly stopped. The place was so quiet, peaceful, but I felt odd – like if I was still moving amidst the stillness. I was restless. Twitchy. I wished there was a TV or something I could flick on – some sound to fill the silence. A computer I could e-mail on. Some way I could have contact with the outside world. What was I supposed to do with myself now that I had arrived? Go and join in with the people back on the grass straining to get their legs up behind their necks. Not today, I thought. Although I can do it. Mum and Dad have practised yoga since forever and so Dylan and I did too. The ‘Salute to the sun’ was part of our daily ritual and, until I got to Ireland, I thought everyone sat in the lotus position when they sat on the floor. The way I could get myself into the strangest positions was one of the things that used to make Erin laugh.

  I went inside and pulled my phone out of my bag to try and text Erin. No joy. The battery needed charging. Stupid me, I meant to do it before we’d left. So. What to do? I asked myself. I decided to put my phone on recharge, then began to put away the things I had brought for the trip.

  Just as I’d finished, Kate burst in. Phew, I thought as she dumped her bag on the end of one of the beds. Company. She may not have liked the idea of sharing a room, but I was secretly pleased that I wasn’t going to be alone. Maybe she’s got some idea of what we can do, I thought as I lolled on my bed and watched her empty the contents of her suitcase on to hers, change her T-shirt, comb her hair back and don her shades.

  Then she got up.

  ‘See yus later,’ she said and she picked up her straw bag and headed for the door.

  ‘Later? Why? Where are you going? Can I come?’ I asked. ‘And are you going to leave all your stuff on the bed?’

  Kate’s expression registered irritation. ‘India. We might be cousins. We might have to share a room, but we’re not joined at the hip. OK?’

  I felt as if someo
ne had poured cold water over me and Kate must have seen my face fall because she let out a slow breath.

  ‘Look,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I just need some space for a while. OK? Like, this is not my ideal summer and I need to readjust my head. Maybe you can come next time, OK?’

  And then her phone went. She didn’t even wait for my reaction. She was on her mobile and out the door.

  Not my ideal summer either, I thought after she’d gone. Not that anyone has asked what is. I flicked through the two novels on the shelf, then put them back. One was a murder story and the other was a caring sharing self-help book. I wasn’t in the mood for caring sharing, nor was I in the mood for reading.

  I decided to go and have a wander around the site, so I donned my shades and set off back up towards the reception area where most of the classes seemed to be based.

  There were the classes that I’d seen earlier, but all sorts of other stuff was going on too. There was a hut where a couple of people were learning massage, another where they seemed to be learning how to make jewellery, another where a group of five were singing or doing some sort of voice work (actually they sounded like they were being strangled). I passed a drumming class, a fencing group, a writing group and another hut where I think people were doing some kind of healing or therapy as a few people were crying on mats and others hugging them. In an adjacent hut, a couple of people were doing mad hippie dancing to some kind of droning groaning sound. Not for me, I thought as I moved quickly on. I passed a kitchen area which was busy with a group of people chopping and cutting vegetables. One of them waved but I darted out of her eye line in case I got roped in. Not that I minded helping out in the kitchen but didn’t want to just yet. There were a couple of open huts on a terrace area where it looked like people could get drinks and snacks and there were a few people at a long table in the middle, talking and laughing. They seemed so at home, like they knew each other and they belonged there. There was no sign of Kate, Lottie or Aunt Sarah. Or Joe.

  I got a bottle of water from the bar area and made my way back down the slope to our bungalow. I let myself back into our room, lay on my bed and stared at the skylight in the sloped roof. There was the beginning of a cobweb up in the righthand corner.

  It felt so quiet.

  Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. A fly buzzed at the window.

  It was so quiet that you could almost hear the silence, but I guess that was the point. That was what people paid to come here for, but to me, after the hussle and bustle of London, it felt . . . boring.

  How on earth am I going to get through four whole weeks here? I asked myself. I was in a place full of people, sixty of them, according to Anisha. It’s not like I’m alone, I told myself. So why do I feel so lonely?

  No one cares about me, I thought as I wondered what Mum and the boys were doing back in London. Tears pricked my eyes. I felt cross with Kate. She’d made me feel like I was a hanger-on. A clingy hanger-on. This is all new to me and I didn’t exactly ask to come here either. She could have been more sensitive.

  I took my phone off the recharger and texted Erin.

  WethR is luvly. rly rly rly rly wsh U wre hre.

  Chapter 8

  Exploring

  ‘Sorry about yesterday,’ said Kate the next morning. ‘Let’s go and get some brekkie and I’ll show you what to avoid.’

  ‘It’s OK. I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to.’

  Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah. I’m in the doghouse. Understandable. I am a cow. Hmm. A cow in the doghouse? Hmm.’ She got down on her knees and put her palms together.‘I, Kate, do beg your forgiveness. Please let me make it up to you today or my soul shall be tossed into a cesspool of pig poo and I shall be tormented forever.’

  I couldn’t stay mad at her for long, so I smiled back at her. ‘Thou art forgiven, oh cow girl in the doghouse in pig poo. But really, Kate, if you want to go off on your own then do. I’m cool,’ I said. Although I wanted to hang out with her, no way did I want to follow her round if I wasn’t wanted.

  Kate got up off the floor and sat back on her bed. ‘I know you’re cool. It’s just . . . I dunno, I get mad with my mum sometimes and have to get away and get my head together. It’s, like, one day she’s all concerned mother and where have I been and who with and what doing? And then she’s so busy with all her businesses, she hardly notices that I exist.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I said.‘She sounds like my dad lately. In fact, I think he only liked me when I was little and cute and used to follow him around everywhere. Now I’ve grown up, I’m not sure he even likes me any more.’

  Kate nodded. ‘Yeah. Like, sometimes I just wish Mum’d be consistent so that I knew what to expect. Do you get me? Anyway. Boring me stuff. Yada yada yada yawn. So. OK, plan is, humour Mommie dearest and then get the hell out of this loserville as fast as possible. I mean, have you seen some of the saddos and what they get up to?’ She went into a great mimic of some of the people doing the strange singing I’d witnessed yesterday. ‘I mean, get a life. Someone tried to give me a hug yesterday in the snack bar. Like, ee-ew, I thought. Do I know you? Do I, like, want to hug you? A lot of touchie-feelie spewie stuff goes on here and, quite honestly, it makes me want to hurl.’

  I had to laugh. ‘Aw and I was going to ask you for a hug too. Come on, Kate, you have learn to share and care.’

  ‘Back off, lezzer,’ said Kate with a grin. ‘Only people I hug are fit boys and even they have to earn it. So, how do you fancy grabbing a bite of brekkie, then we head down to town and the beach? I’ve OK’d it with Mum. She thinks you ought to get a feel of where you are and see some of the surrounding locations.’

  ‘Really? Great. Cool,’ I said. I felt relieved that I’d have someone to hang out with and go to the food area with, after last night’s supper. Aunt Sarah had collected me, early evening, to go to eat with her and a bunch of people on the main long table. They all clearly knew each other well and, although I tried to join in, I couldn’t help feeling like the odd person out. Like I was standing outside myself, watching myself, wondering where or how I could fit in. A tall thin guy with dark hair in a pony tail was serving food and seemed to notice my discomfort. He looked about Kate’s age and gave me a friendly smile and introduced himself as Liam Payne. He asked if I wanted to join him and his group on their table after supper. I shook my head and hoped that I didn’t appear unfriendly. It was just that the group he pointed out, like everyone else there, seemed overly cheerful and at home. I wasn’t in the right mood for meeting a whole crowd of new people just yet. I looked around for Joe and spotted him on a table with his mum and he gave me a brief smile but no indication that he was going to come over to me or would like me to go over to him and why should he? I asked myself. He probably thought I was OK with Aunt Sarah and her lot. Plus, I still felt a little embarrassed about the mega snog fantasy I’d had about him on the plane. I decided to be really cool with him for the rest of the stay and, after dinner, went straight back to my room and had an early night. I fell asleep in an instant and was only vaguely aware of Kate coming in at some time past midnight.

  At breakfast, after we’d got our food from the buffet (muesli for me, croissants and raspberry jam for Kate), we found a table in the corner of the terrace from where we could see all the ‘inmates’ as Kate called them. The sun was beaming down and there was a gentle breeze and it did feel good to be there. Kate began a running commentary about who everyone was and why they were there. It was totally made up, at least I think it was.

  ‘Over there are the lesbian librarians from Clipping Horton: Mavis and Maureen,’ said Kate, giving a wave to two elderly women in matching lilac kaftans.‘Sisters. They only came out as gay in their fifties to the amazement of their husbands, seventeen children, forty grandchildren and twenty cats. The cats were the most shocked of all. I don’t know if you know this or not, but some cats can be quite narrow minded about sexuality . . .’

  ‘I know,’ I said with a heavy sigh. ‘It�
��s very hard being a gay cat, in fact a lot of them choose not to tell at all. Our big black cat Boris, in Ireland, was gay and had to have cat counselling before he came out.’

  Kate gave me a big smile. ‘Good for Boris,’ she said. ‘And good for you. You’re quite clearly as barmy as I am! Anyway, M and M come to the island each year to make erotic sculptures of fertility goddesses to sell in the café of their local library when they go back. Next to them, is oh . . . Liam Payne.’ She did a mock shudder. ‘He gives me the creeps.’

  She was looking at the boy who had been friendly last night when he was serving supper. I had intended to go and talk to him today and explain why I didn’t take up his offer to join his group. ‘Why?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘Um . . . too touchy feely. He was here the first time I came. He’s into the whole spiritual trip, but . . . I don’t know, there’s just something that I don’t like about him. He’s so intense, like he doesn’t just hug, like, you know, a friendly hug – you hug, you let go. He hugs like it’s some healing emotionallycharged moment that’s loaded with meaning. Like he holds on too long until I want to push him off with great force.’

  I laughed and glanced back at Liam. He looked OK to me and he was the only person last night who had seemed to have picked up on the fact that I felt left out. He was talking to Anisha and another girl dressed in white with a long plait down her back and a white dot in-between her eyebrows. He saw me looking and smiled. I smiled back but decided not to go and talk to him, at least not while Kate was looking on. I was about to ask more about Liam, but she launched back into her commentary and I didn’t want to interrupt when she was so clearly on a roll.

  ‘Now . . . the bald man with the paunch, in the long shorts and socks and sandals, in the far corner? Hhmm, what an attractive look. Not. Now he used to be a playboy porn star until, one morning, he had a vision. Not unlike that what-hisname St Paul on the road to Damascus. Well, our chap, he saw the light on the North Circular, just behind the World of Leather, and hasn’t been the same since. Actually, the light he saw was the lasers from Wembley stadium, but no one liked to tell him and shatter his fantasy. Anyhow, he’s here to get in touch with his inner nerd, which so far he’s doing rather well at. And see that lady over there in the sarong and tank top with the big belly? Her story is that she was bored in her office job one day and, in her coffee break, she discovered that she could make amazing patterns with her fat tummy. She developed her skill into a kind of flab origami. Now she teaches classes in it. It’s all the latest rage in certain parts of California. The group of ladies on the back table? What a bunch they are! Alcoholics. Drug addicts. Nicotine addicts. They are here to deal with their various addictions and are doing a workshop called ‘Kick Your Crutch in Skiathos.’