‘Oh, no one,’ I said.
‘Kate and India Jane,’ said Kate.
I punched her lightly on the arm as we left. ‘I don’t want him to think I’m following him around,’ I whispered, then I noticed that the waitress was staring at us through the window. ‘She’s trying to work out who we are.’
Kate glanced back. ‘Yeah. Knowing Joe, there’s probably a stream of girls in there asking for him.’
‘Really?’
Kate laughed.‘No. Only you. You lurve him.’
‘I do not. I told you —’
‘India! You can trust me. I won’t blow your cover.’
Later that night, I spotted Joe back up at the centre at the buffet bar where people were queuing for supper.
He glanced around and noticed me standing behind him, so I took a deep breath and launched into the speech that I had prepared in my head. It was something that the art teacher at my last school had said and everyone had thought he was a really cool guy. Joe was bound to be well impressed and, in my mind, we would spend hours walking barefoot on the sand under the stars discussing life and art.
‘I know many say that it’s chocolate box art, but personally I like the Pre-Raphaelites, particularly Rossetti and Burne-Jones. I think that there’s far too much snobbery when it comes to art. Too much intellectualism and one ought to go with one’s gut.’
Joe looked at me as if I was talking gobbledegook. ‘Er . . . pardon?’
I repeated my brilliant speech. ‘I know many say that it’s chocolate box art but personally I like the Pre-Raphaelites, particularly Rossetti and Burne-Jones. I think there’s far too much snobbery when it comes to art. Too much intellectualism and one ought to go with one’s gut.’
Joe burst out laughing. Then he made his face look very solemn.‘Wow. Yeah. Yes. Absolutely right. India Jane. Snobbery. Intellectualism. Quite correct. Now. Er . . . Thing is . . . whether to have the roasted veg or lentil bake? Hhmmm? Ought to go with my gut, you say?’ He helped himself to the lentil bake. ‘Right. See you then.’ And off he went to sit on a table with his mother.
So much for my fantasy about walking along the sand – much better if I bury myself in it, I thought. I took some rice and beans and made a promise to myself to keep out of his way and keep my mouth shut for the rest of the holiday.
My vow proved to be easy to stick to, since most nights he took off on his own after supper and, although I was intrigued to know where he went, no way was I going to ask him. Part of me was disappointed by his lack of interest, but I wasn’t going to put myself forward for any kind of rejection. I might act like an idiot in front of him, but I wasn’t that stupid.
At least I still had Kate, Robin and Tom to hang out with and, in the second week, we went to a different beach each day and I began to feel less like a stranger on the island. Kate and Tom would take off on their own sometimes leaving Robin and I alone, but that was OK. We just swam, read and sunbathed, and I think he was glad that I was there so that he wasn’t a gooseberry when Kate and Tom were around and acting all loved up. Although I think he still fancied me a bit, he didn’t pursue it and I made sure that I didn’t give him any signals that I was interested. We kept our chat general – about school and future plans mainly – and I avoided talking about relationship stuff, not that I had that many to talk about, anyway. He had just finished his A-levels and was planning a gap year to travel, so he liked hearing about all the places I’d lived – particularly India, although I was too young to remember a whole lot about being there.
At the end of the second week, Tom’s parents went off on a boat trip so the boys took us to see where they were staying. They met us off the bus late morning as usual and then drove us up to the northern tip of the island. I liked it there – it was less built up than the south of the island.
‘Wow!’ said Kate when Tom stopped the jeep on a slope halfway up a hill and we got out and looked around us.
The views of the coast stretching out down below were awesome – the best I’d seen so far. Tom led the way and we walked down some steps from the parking area towards the house. It felt really private. It was surrounded by olive, pine and fruit trees so that, even if there were neighbours to the left or right, you wouldn’t be aware of them. The villa looked like so many on the island with white walls and red-tiled roof but, when we stepped inside, it felt like someone’s home, which was nice after the impersonal feel of the bungalows at the centre.
‘You going to show us round then?’ asked Kate.
Tom immediately went into estate agent mode and gave us a tour. ‘Downstairs we ’ave an open-plan sitting room,’ he drawled in a rubbish Greek accent, ‘At the back is ze kitchen and utility room. At the front, we ’ave a terrace area, then steps down to an infinity pool with the most stunning view of the Aegean in the distance.’
‘Crap accent,’ said Kate.
‘Zank you,’ said Tom with a grin.
‘Hey, I love these paintings,’ I said, noticing some seascapes on the walls in the living room.
‘Oh, my gran did those,’ said Tom. ‘She lived here in her retirement.’
‘They’re really good,’ Kate agreed. ‘What’s upstairs?’
Tom flashed her a grin, then led us up some stairs, reverting to his terrible accent, which seemed to have changed from bad Greek to a cross between Russian and Welsh.
‘Ve ’ave a double bedroom with a balcony at the front,’ he said as he showed us around. I noticed that he raised an eyebrow at Kate when he showed us in there and she raised an eyebrow back. ‘We ’ave ze twin-bedded rooms, a bath and shower room at the back.’
Kate slapped him playfully. ‘Don’t ever think of acting,’ she said.‘Somehow I don’t think it would be the job for you.’
After the tour, we went outside and chilled out around the pool. After a dip, Kate and Tom disappeared inside, leaving Robin and me alone on the sunloungers. He raised an eyebrow and grinned at me. I raised an eyebrow back to let him know that I knew what they were up to.
For a while we read magazines, sunbathed, then swam again and, as I got out of the pool, I noticed Robin watching me. Like really watching me with an intense expression on his face. It made me feel uncomfortable and, although I was wearing my turquoise bikini, I felt like I was naked. As soon as I got to my lounger, I pulled my blue sarong out of my bag and draped it round me. Robin continued watching as I reapplied my sun lotion, then looked away as if he was bored, but I felt something in the air that hadn’t been there before.
It didn’t last long as, minutes later, he disappeared into the villa and came back with a tray loaded down with a carafe of wine, fruit juice, mineral water, pitta bread, hummus, taramasalata, olives and feta cheese.
‘Wow. A feast,’ I said as he placed the tray on the table by the pool.
‘Thought the lady might be hungry,’ he replied and made a plate up for me and poured me a glass of wine.
He brought both over and sat on the end of my lounger. I was about to take the plate from him but he shook his head.
‘Let me feed you,’ he said.
I didn’t know what to do. What to say. I didn’t want to look like a school kid so tried to appear casual about it. Like I was used to boys feeding me. He put some cheese on the fork, then slowly pushed it into my mouth. I felt myself blush red. I knew he was looking straight into my eyes, but I couldn’t meet his gaze and hoped that I didn’t look cross-eyed as I tried to focus on the fork. Robin leaned back to the tray, picked up the glass of wine and held it up to my lips.
‘Er . . . no . . . thanks. I’ll just stick to juice,’ I stuttered.
‘Try a sip,’ he said in a husky voice. ‘It’s a very good Pinot Grigio. Tom’s dad has it flown in especially. You’ll like it.’
I felt trapped. I really didn’t want to drink wine but I didn’t want to appear ungrateful or immature. ‘Er . . . I . . .’ I began.
Robin took the wine away and took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. I keep forgetting. You’re younger than Ka
te, aren’t you?’
‘I’m fifteen,’ I said.
Robin got up, went back to the tray, poured me a glass of juice and handed it to me.‘Here. Juice for the little lady.’
He poured himself a beer and slumped back down on to his lounger. I felt confused and couldn’t gauge his mood. Had I upset him? Had he been about to try something then changed his mind? Or had I been imagining it? I thought it was understood that we were just friends.
I drank my juice and felt like I was about nine years old. So uncomfortable. I wished that I could leave and go back to the centre. Anywhere but where I was. I ate half of the lunch that Robin had given me, then lay back, closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep.
Tom and Kate appeared mid-afternoon and for once, Kate looked coy, holdingTom’s hand as they came out on to the terrace.
‘You two look like you’ve been up to no good,’ said Robin in a strict ‘parent’ type voice.
For a moment, they both looked sheepish, then Kate said, ‘Actually, I was very good, wouldn’t you say, Tom?’
Tom laughed and nodded. Robin laughed with him. I attempted to laugh too, but a voice in my head kept telling me that I was fake. Out of my depth. I didn’t belong.
Chapter 10
Beach Party
In the early evening, to my relief, we headed back for town where I thought Kate and I would catch the shuttle bus back up to Cloud Nine as we usually did. However, a few moments after we had parked the jeep, a tall girl with long black curly hair came out of one of the local cafés, waved at the boys and made a beeline for us.
‘Hey Tom,’ she said with a quick appreciative glance in his direction. ‘Can you give me a lift to the party?’
Kate took Tom’s hand, as if to let her know that they were together, but the girl didn’t look bothered. She merely smiled at Kate.
‘What party?’ Robin asked.
‘Out at Troulos beach. Bring your friends,’ said the girl. ‘It’s going to be an all-nighter.’
‘OK. Cool. Sure,’ said Robin. He looked at Tom and Kate for assent. Both of them nodded enthusiastically. I wasn’t even consulted.
The girl was introduced as Andrea and, after Robin and Tom had bought beers and vodka, and Kate, cigarettes, we were back in the jeep headed for the party.
‘Don’t we need to check it’s OK with Aunt Sarah?’ I asked. ‘She’ll be wondering where we are.’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘She probably won’t even miss us. And she’s got my mobile number, don’t forget. Anyway, I reckon we’ve earned a night off for good behaviour.’
I supposed I must have looked anxious because Kate leaned over and said. ‘Don’t be a killjoy, India. I mean, it’s not exactly like we’ll be missing anything except a group hug-in and lentil bake back at the loonie farm. If it makes you happy, I’ll give her a call later. I promise. OK?’
‘OK.’ I made an attempt to smile back at her and as we drove along I tried to talk myself out of the strange mood that had descended on me since Robin had tried to feed me. I felt all wrong. Like I had on the first night up at the centre. Like I was wearing the wrong body.
The word had spread and there were already about fifty partygoers at Troulos beach by the time we got there. More seemed to be arriving by the minute and making their way across the small meadow that led to the beach and ocean. A stage area had been set up on the left-hand side away from the taverna on the right. By the stage was a makeshift bar selling beer and Coke and next to that was a wide barbecue where two sun-grizzled middle-aged men in shorts and red bandannas were cooking fish. A few metres from the sea, someone had built a fire and a bunch of musicians were seated around it – some strumming guitars, others playing congas. A few girls in bikini tops and sarongs were messing about, half dancing to the music and half limbo-ing, while a bunch of teenage boys sat and ogled them.
‘It all looks very organised,’ I said to Kate as we looked around. ‘Look, there are even portaloos over there behind the stage.’
She nodded. ‘Yeah. It feels more rock festival than beach party. I guess it’s a regular thing out here and why not, hey? They’ve certainly got the locations.’
We found ourselves a patch of sand a short distance from the stage and Robin got out our supplies. He was about to offer me some vodka but pulled back.‘Oops, forgot. Miss Goodytwoshoes.’
I took the bottle from him. Maybe it’s what I need tonight to loosen up, I thought, taking a swig. ‘Thanks.’
Robin looked pleased. ‘Good girl,’ he said.
Kate sat snuggled into Tom as the music got going and Robin acted as waiter for the evening, bringing us fish kebabs, peppers and rice from the food stall and keeping us supplied with drinks from our bags. He was so attentive and sweet that I felt bad having given him the brush off earlier. It must be hard for boys having to make the first move, especially when you have a really goodlooking mate like Tom who gets first look in with girls, I thought, as I watched the sky become a riot of colour – orange, red and purple – turning to translucent turquoise and navy as the sun went down.
‘My dad loves sunsets,’ I said at one point when Robin and Tom went off to get more beers.
‘Me too,’ said Kate as she lay back on her elbows.
‘This is his favourite time of day.“God’s masterpiece work of art,” he’d say. Every morning, every evening different.’
‘Are you missing him? Them?’ Kate asked.
‘Nah. Not really,’ I replied. For a moment, though, I did feel an ache of homesickness. Dad and I’d watched so many sunsets together all over the world. ‘Same old sun wherever you are,’ he’d say. I wondered how the sky looked where he was this evening and if he would even get to see any of it or if he was already at work, playing the piano in front of an audience. And I wondered if he ever thought of me.
As the evening went on, everyone seemed in a mellow mood and the feeling of discomfort that I’d had earlier melted away in the glow of the fire and the vodka that Robin kept passing my way.
When the light had gone completely and the sky was velvet black, Tom and Kate took off down the beach as did a number of lovey-dovey couples. Others around the fire seemed to be eyeing each other up, dancing, swaying to the music. I kept an eye out for Joe in the hope that he might be there but there was no sign. There was one cute boy, though, with surfer-blond hair who checked me out at one point when I got up to go to the portaloo, but I didn’t hold eye contact with him. I’d had enough of confusing signals for one day.
When Robin went to sit nearer the fire and watch the dancing girls, I got up, walked a short distance down the beach and then went to sit closer to the sea. I was feeling light-headed from the vodka and thought, I mustn’t wander too far – it does look pitch black further along the beach. I lay down on the cool damp sand and looked up at the sky. I felt all my senses come into sharp focus as I lay there. The smell of the salty air, the aroma of barbecued fish and wood wafting along from the fire, the pungent scent of seaweed, sweat and suntan lotion. As I stared up in the sky, more and more stars began to appear. Like silver dots popping into the black. Pop. Pop. Pop. More and more appeared. Behind me were the sounds of the party, the congas, voices, but where I was felt quieter, with only the gentle lapping of the sea at the water’s edge.
I must have drifted off because I awoke with a jerk. I sat up, unsure how long I had been there but I felt cold. I rubbed my arms and was about to get up when I became aware that someone was nearby, coming towards me, but, as the light from the fire was behind them, I could only see a looming shadow. My heart thumped in my chest – I realised that I was probably a little too far away from the party if there was trouble.
‘Hey, India, that you?’ asked a familiar voice.
‘Phew,’ I said when I realised that it was Robin. ‘You scared me.’
He sat down with a heavy thump on to the sand just behind me. ‘Wu hooooo,’ he said then laughed. ‘What you doing out here on your own?’
‘Oh nothing – just looking at the
sea and the sky.’
Robin snuggled up so that he was right behind me. Then he put his legs around me so that I was seated between his thighs. He pulled me back to lean on his chest. He felt warm and smelled strongly of alcohol and garlic.
‘Looking at the sea and the sky and the stars,’ he said in a dreamy voice. ‘You’re a funny girl, aren’t you, my little India Jane?’
And then he started kissing the side of my neck and nibbling my ear. I froze. I so didn’t want it to be happening.
‘No. Robin, I . . .’ I tried to move away but it was difficult as he had me firmly between his legs. He manoeuvred himself around to my left, pulled me back further and began to kiss me properly. It was horrible. Too wet. Too full on. As he kissed me and I tried to get away, his breathing grew heavier and he moved his hands up and began to caress my breasts.
I tried to push his hands off. ‘Robin, no. I don’t want. . .’
‘Oh come on, India, you know I’m into you,’ he groaned. Then he pushed me over so that I was on my back and he was lying on top of me.
‘Robin, NO!’ I cried.
My protest was muffled by the bulk of his body pressing down on me. As I struggled, the sounds all around seemed to grow louder. Behind us, the party blasted on full swing; in front, the waves crashed up on to the beach. The crackle of the fire, the beat of the congas, the strumming guitars, the sound of chatter and laughter. What am I going to do? I asked myself as I tried once again to push Robin off and not to panic.
‘Where are you?’ asked Aunt Sarah in a clipped voice at the other end of the phone.‘Is Kate with you?’
‘Yes, she’s here. We’re at Troulos beach.’
‘And Tom and what’s his friend’s name?’
‘Robin. Yes. They’re here too.’
‘Put Kate on.’
‘I . . .’
I didn’t know what to do. Kate was slumped by the fire, asleep and had been for over half an hour.‘She’s . . . she’s asleep.’
This Way to Paradise Page 8