This Way to Paradise

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This Way to Paradise Page 14

by Cathy Hopkins


  ‘Oh! Yes. No. Not really. Nothing to see yet,’ I blustered as I knelt up.

  He sat down at a desk nearby.‘So how’s it going?’

  ‘Good. Yeah. It’s funny, now that it’s almost time to go home, I like it here. I’ve met some great people.’

  Joe nodded. ‘Um, yeah. You mean like Liam? You spend a lot of time with him.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘You seem pretty close.’

  ‘We are, but . . . he’s not my boyfriend or anything. Not like Kate with Tom.’

  ‘Yeah. I saw them in town. They looked well loved up.’

  ‘I think she likes him a lot. But it’s different with Liam and me. I just like talking to him. He has an interesting take on the world.’

  ‘Yeah, but . . . well, you don’t have to listen or believe everything he has to say, you know.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve seen him in action. I think he fancies himself as another Sensei, like Mr New Age wise guy, but he’s not even in Sensei’s league. I reckon it’s all to pull girls.’

  ‘No way! That’s so cynical.’

  ‘Well, he can be very persuasive.’

  I suddenly got the feeling that Joe had been talking to Kate and that she had put him up to this. I felt a flash of annoyance. Did people think I was a total fool? First Mum and the boys trying to warn me off, then Kate, and now Joe as well.

  ‘I can handle myself,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah. Course you can. Just you seem to spend an awful lot of time with him.’

  ‘He’s a mate.’

  Joe looked at me quizzically. ‘A mate? OK. Fine. Later, then.’

  ‘Later,’ I said. We both got up at the same time and almost knocked our heads. I didn’t laugh it off like I would normally have done, though. I wanted him to know I was annoyed with him and everyone else for butting into my business like I didn’t know what I was doing.

  This way to paradise, I thought as I walked down the slope to my bungalow and remembered Sensei’s words. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

  Chapter 16

  Cross Examination

  ‘Have you phoned your mum, India?’ asked Aunt Sarah. ‘She’s been calling every day, but says your mobile has been off.’

  There were four more days to go before returning to London and I’d popped into her office just after breakfast to see if she wanted anything doing. I found her busy as usual behind her desk.

  ‘I e-mailed,’ I said. I didn’t say when. It was actually days ago and I hadn’t even been in to check if she or dad had replied.

  Aunt Sarah looked at me with concern in her eyes. ‘Are you all right, India?’ she asked. ‘You look a tad pale.’

  I nodded. ‘Yes. Absolutely great. I’ve never been better.’ Actually, I was feeling tired but I didn’t tell her that. All the early mornings up at dawn to meditate, plus the broken nights’ sleep when Kate came back in late, were taking their toll, but I was determined to make a go of the new routine and it didn’t seem to bother any of the others. I wanted to overcome my weakness.

  Aunt Sarah looked awkward for a moment. ‘Do you want to . . . do you want to talk about anything?’

  ‘Like what?’ I asked.

  ‘Anything’s that’s bothering you. I am here for you,’ she said, then laughed lightly,‘even if I don’t always appear to be.’

  ‘Nothing’s bothering me. Not any more. Honest.’

  ‘So something was bothering you?’

  ‘Yes . . . No.’

  ‘Can I say something personal, India?’

  ‘Yes. Course.’

  ‘OK. I might have got totally the wrong end of the stick but . . . well . . . you seem to be kind of earnest about things lately. Not your usual self.’

  ‘Earnest? Maybe. I have found something that means a lot to me.’

  ‘Oh yes. The meditation group.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve even been thinking about going to India and checking out about living in an ashram.’

  ‘An ashram? No, India. Not you. An ashram is for a particular type of person, for renunciates —’

  ‘What’s a renunciate?’

  ‘Someone who practises self-denial – not someone like you, India. I’ve known you since you were a little girl – you love life too much to cut yourself off from it.’

  ‘Maybe I’ve changed. People do.’

  Aunt Sarah didn’t look convinced. ‘Have you talked to your mum or dad about this?’

  I shook my head.‘Not yet. Anyway I’m only thinking about it and I’ll be sixteen next —’

  Aunt Sarah still looked shocked. ‘An ashram?’ she repeated. ‘But why?’

  ‘I feel like the people in the meditation group really accept me and I might want to look into that way of life a bit more.’

  ‘They accept you? Did you feel like you weren’t accepted?’

  ‘Yeah. No.’ Aunt Sarah’s cross-examination was making me feel uncomfortable to the point that I couldn’t articulate. ‘Well, I was sent here against my will, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Ah, so that’s it. You’re still angry about that.’

  ‘Angry! Me. No way.’ Blimey, I thought. Another person who doesn’t get me. Kate thought I was boring and now Aunt Sarah thinks that I’m angry! Angry. Huh! I was, but now I’m indifferent. I have so left all that negative stuff behind and am going the other way, towards peace. At least, I think I am . . . ‘Who would I be angry with? This place is paradise. You’ve been great.’

  Aunt Sarah looked concerned. ‘Have I? I feel like I might have neglected you after what you just said, and I know Kate spends most of her time with Tom.’

  Ah, so that’s why she’s reacting so strongly to the idea of an ashram, I thought. She feels responsible for me and doesn’t want Mum blaming her if I run away. ‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘I’ve made loads of new friends. As I said, I feel at home here now. Really. I’m not angry with you at all.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that you are angry with anyone here,’ said Aunt Sarah. ‘Oh, darn it. Now I’ve upset you. Look, forget I said anything, OK? Just me sticking my nose into something that’s not my business.’

  After we parted, I felt unsettled by our conversation so I went to find Liam, who was now my total confidant. He was sitting on the veranda outside his bungalow, sipping a mint tea, and he invited me to join him.

  ‘My whole life has turned upside down in the time I’ve spent here,’ I said, taking the chair beside him.‘I had so many plans for my return to London. Good bits – like do the shops, explore the area. Not so good bits – like new school, the trauma of making new friends, being the new girl. But now I feel I’ve changed so much and I’m not sure how anything is going to be any more, not even going home.’

  Liam nodded and poured me a tea. ‘You don’t have to worry about not knowing people – there are loads of Sensei’s followers in London in your area. They’ll look after you. We’re your new family now.’

  I reached over and squeezed Liam’s hand. ‘Thanks. I don’t know what I would have done without you these last few weeks.’

  Liam smiled.‘My pleasure. Look, I’ve got to go. Things to do, but you can stay here if you like. No hurry.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. After he’d gone, as I sipped on the mint tea, I felt an overwhelming sadness come over me. Although part of me felt good doing the meditation, another part felt empty. Lonely. I so wanted to be like Sensei, like Liam, like the other followers who looked so serene and glowing – not as Aunt Sarah had described me, earnest and angry. Angry! I clearly still had a long way to go on the path.

  I stayed on Liam’s veranda a while, did a little meditation and then went and did my chores up at the centre. After that I took some lunch and spent the rest of the day on the beach. I swam a little. Dozed a while. Walked along the beach and back. Then sat on my mat and looked out at the sea and sky. The earlier feeling of melancholy hadn’t gone away. I tried to cheer myself up with thoughts about travelling to India next year, living in the ashram for a while. I did
n’t have to stay there for ever, did I? So it would be new. Unfamiliar. It would be both of those, but it would be my choice. My decision. I had to do it. Find out if there was anything there for me.

  As the afternoon wore on, guests from the centre began to drift back up the slope to their rooms. I stayed where I was. I wasn’t in the mood for company.

  After the beach had emptied, I got out the stuffed pitta bread that I had left over from my lunch and was about to take a bite when, to my right, I was aware that someone was coming along the beach in my direction. Probably one of the guests has forgotten a towel or something, I thought, glancing over in their direction.

  But something about the way the person walked, the posture looked familiar. OhmiGOD!

  ‘DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!’ It was my dad! I leaped to my feet.

  ‘DAAAAAAAAAAAD!’

  It really was him. My dad. Larger than life, like he always was. On the beach in Skiathos. Coming along the sand. My dad. He saw me and began to run and, when he got to me, he clasped me into a big bear hug and held me tight.

  And then the tears started. Wave after wave. I didn’t know where they were coming from but I couldn’t stop them. Dad just held me and stroked my hair. It felt so good to have him there. To feel his familiar arms around me. To inhale his familiar Dad smell (a mix of cedarwood, lime and clean fleece). To feel how safe he made me feel.

  After a while, the tears subsided and Dad let me go and held me at arms’ length while he took a long look at me.

  ‘So, how’s my baby girl then, hey?’

  ‘I . . . I’m good,’ I said and then I laughed and looked down at the sand, because I’d just spent the last few minutes crying my head off as if I was anything but good.

  Dad indicated that we should sit down, which we did. He put his arm around me and for a moment neither of us said anything. We both looked out to sea and then we talked. And talked. Although it was mainly me doing the talking. I told him about everything – how unacknowledged I’d felt, how angry about being sent away from London. How lonely I’d been and how I’d discovered Sensei and wanted to go and travel in India.

  Dad looked thoughtful while he listened and he didn’t interrupt or try to defend himself. ‘So, why didn’t you let me know all of this?’ he asked after it had all come pouring out.

  ‘I did. I swear I did, when we were in London. You didn’t listen. You didn’t seem interested any more. All I’ve wanted for ages is to stay in one place. Be a normal family with friends and a home, but no one seemed to care what I wanted. No one even asked me.’

  ‘You say you want a home, but then you say you want to travel to India?’

  ‘Only because . . . I . . . I need to belong some place and I thought maybe . . . I didn’t belong with my family any more, that they didn’t care about me. I . . . I thought that maybe . . . you didn’t like me any more.’

  Dad looked completely taken aback. For once my noisy opinionated dad was quiet. He looked so sad and then he took one of my hands in his.‘You must do what you have to and find your own path, but you must also know that you are more precious to me than my own life. My one and only Cinnamon Girl. I thought you knew that.’

  Tears rose swiftly to the surface once more as I shook my head and he hugged me into his shoulder again.‘It didn’t feel that way when you sent me here. I really thought you didn’t care.’

  ‘Oh, I care,’ he said,‘and much of what you say is true. I was thinking of myself. I was. My job. How I would support my family. But I was thinking of you too. I thought, my girl’s growing up. She’s a teenager. Almost a woman. I need to butt out a bit. Let her go and not crowd her so much. I need to give her space to breathe and find herself.’

  I sat back and looked at him.’ Space?’

  Dad nodded. ‘I think I read the wrong teen manual. I got it all wrong. Maybe too much space, hey?’

  The idea of my dad trying to do the right thing had never occurred to me and, as it did, the anger I’d felt towards him began to melt away. He was only human, trying to find his way like the rest of us. He wasn’t perfect. He got it wrong sometimes, but he cared. He did. And that’s what mattered.

  Dad leaned over and pulled me in closer, so that my head was resting on his shoulder again. ‘My only girl. I should have known better. India, I’m sorry. In future, we must always talk. Not leave it too late. Always talk.’

  Before us, the dusk was beginning its nightly display with a blaze of colour lighting up the horizon.

  ‘Another sunset,’ said Dad.

  ‘Our favourite time of day,’ I said.

  We sat and watched as we had before, so many times, in so many countries.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ said Dad as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon.

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ I said. ‘And I’ve only just realised how much.’

  Chapter 17

  Homeward Bound

  ‘Flight B413 will be leaving shortly from Gate 3,’ came the message over the tannoy.

  ‘Here we go again,’ said Kate, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and together we made our way towards our gate.

  I couldn’t wait.

  Dad had stayed on in Greece for two days. Spending time with him made me realise that the last week, since Mum had gone back to London, hadn’t been a barrel of laughs for him either. Dad loves to travel, but with his family, and he’d been away from most of us and thrust into a new situation too. I wasn’t the only one. Once we’d talked everything out and there was nothing more to say, I had a great time showing him the island. Aunt Sarah had let us have the car and we did the town, the beaches, the shops, the cafés, and at last I got to eat in the little restaurant that I’d spied on my first day on the island. The one with the stunning views over the bay where I’d imagined I’d be with Joe. So it wasn’t with him. It didn’t matter. Dad was great company and we had a fabulous time together. And then the day before yesterday, he had to go back on the tour, as the man standing in for him had to go on to another job.

  I didn’t mind when he said goodbye, because we were OK with each other again and because I knew that I was going to be homeward bound soon and he’d back with us all in October. I was really looking forward to being in London again and I hoped that Mum and the boys would be there at the airport to meet me. It would be so fab to see them all.

  Robin and Tom had returned a few days earlier, so Kate was in semi-mourning, but Joe was on the same flight as us.

  ‘No yogurts this time,’ I said as he joined us on the way out to the plane.

  ‘And how are the head lice?’ he asked with a grin.

  ‘Nicely cleared up, thank you. Not that there ever were any.’

  ‘I knew that,’ he said. ‘It was fun winding you up, though.’

  I gave him a playful punch.

  Once on the plane, Kate took the aisle seat, put on her iPod, closed her eyes and was asleep by the time the plane burst through the clouds after take-off. As fate or luck would have it, I was in the middle and Joe at the window.

  ‘Think I’ve got that feeling of déjà vu,’ I said.

  ‘Do you want to swap?’ he asked, indicating his seat.

  I shook my head and glanced at Kate. ‘Wouldn’t want to do anything to disturb the sleeping beauty. She needs to recover from her holiday.’

  Joe laughed. ‘And what about you? Do you need to recover from it?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ I replied as Joe took a look at the in-flight entertainment brochure to see what movies were on. ‘I’m glad to be going back, though. Four weeks was enough. What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’

  It was the first time we’d spoken since the awkward scene in the art room earlier in the week and, this time, neither of us could get up and walk out. I decided to take advantage and to ask him everything that I’d wanted to know.

  ‘Hhmm,Joe Donahue? Where can I start? OK. So have you always been such a loner?’

  Joe laughed.‘Loner? Me? No. Why would you think that?’


  ‘You kept to yourself a lot of the time up at Cloud Nine.’

  Joe looked thoughtful. ‘I guess.’

  ‘Kate told me you’re a party animal back in London. So what happened?’

  ‘ Was a party animal.’

  ‘So, you’re not any more?’

  Joe shrugged and looked out of the window. ‘Not sure.’

  ‘Sorry. I . . . er . . . if you don’t want to talk . . .’

  Joe turned back.‘No. It’s OK, India. No. Kate was right. I was the party animal. You name it, I did it. Drink. Drugs. Girls. Trouble was, there was a price to pay. My grades. My relationship with Mum and Dad, not to mention my relationship with some of the girls.’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ I interrupted as I remembered what Kate had said about him being a heartbreaker.

  ‘And to be honest, it was getting to a point where I wasn’t enjoying myself any more, you know? You indulge in anything too much, it loses its appeal. Like at Christmas, too much chocolate and sweet stuff . . .’

  ‘Noooooo. You can never have too much chocolate,’ I said with a laugh. ‘But I get what you mean. Like, yeah, you can get to a point where you feel, if you see another mince pie, you’ll hurl.’

  ‘Yeah. Too much of everything, and everyone over-indulges, thinking it will make them happy, but it doesn’t. Your man Sensei said something one day that made a lot of sense to me. He said, if you seek happiness too intently through the pleasures of life, then you lose the meaning. But on the other hand, if you seek happiness through the meaning of life too intently, you lose the pleasure. You have to find a balance.’

  ‘I like that,’ I said. ‘Like, moderation.’

  ‘Yeah. He said some good things. I liked him. It was just some of his followers I wasn’t so sure about.’

  ‘Somehow, I get the feeling that you’re talking about Liam.’

  Joe smiled. ‘Yeah. I’ve heard his routine – all that stuff about the darkness in you resisting when you don’t want to go along with something he said. That’s so manipulative.’

  ‘The greater the light, the greater the darkness around it – that’s what he told me.’

 

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