by Lucy Lord
‘I am sorry, Juho. But I can never forget about Ben.’
‘Then you will have to forget about me.’ Juho got angrily to his feet, his hurt pride making him say things he didn’t really mean.
‘Wh … where are you going?’
‘To the Full Moon Party. I want to have some fun. And I want to get laid.’
Natalia gazed at his departing body as he marched slightly unsteadily down the beach, and the tears started to trickle down her face again. Was she being ridiculous? If she could never have Ben, could she really never have any other man again? And what was she going to do about Georgiou? She could hardly spend the rest of her life hiding on this beach, beautiful though it was, giving vast sums of money to a thug who had once, briefly, been her pimp.
Her head swirling with vodka, Thai whiskey, unanswered questions and churning emotions, she rose unsteadily to her feet. Maybe a dip in the sea would make her feel better.
So she waded into the still-warm water, her long legs making light work of the shallows. As soon as it was deep enough, she started to swim out towards the full, shining moon.
As Ben stepped off the Thai longboat onto Bottle Beach, he realized why Poppy had recommended it to Natalia, and why Natalia had chosen it as her hideaway. Even in the moonlight he could see that it was utterly stunning, and incredibly peaceful. Now that most people had left the beach for the Full Moon Party, it was quieter than ever.
He did hope Natalia hadn’t gone to the party. He couldn’t imagine it was her scene really, but if she had, he’d just wait here for her to return in the morning. He’d travelled far enough to wait another night, and it wouldn’t be easy to find her among the glow-stick-wielding, face-painted travellers raving in the sea at Haad Rin.
Most of the bars (nothing more than coconut shacks, really) he passed were empty, but at one of them he encountered two very young girls, both wearing denim shorts and bikini tops, drinking bottles of Singha beer on high wicker stools.
‘Hey,’ he said to one of them, a chocolate-box, pretty freckly, curly haired brunette. ‘Great location, huh?’
‘Oh, God, yes, we can’t believe how lucky we are,’ she said, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. However effective Ben’s stoner disguise, and however off-putting the matted dreads and ginger stubble, he was still an extraordinarily good-looking man. He noticed her friend give her a not-too-subtle nudge, and sighed internally, realizing what was to come. In the old days he’d have relished turning up on a beach like this, finding a couple of little cuties, and letting the evening take its inevitable course. Now, though, finding Natalia was the only thing on his mind.
Means to an end, though. He sat down on one of the tall, wicker bar stools and said,
‘What does a man have to do to get a beer around here?’ There was nobody behind the bar; the barman had probably headed to the Full Moon Party, like everybody else.
‘S’OK, I can get you one,’ said the brunette, walking behind the bar. ‘They all know me here.’ She was trying to make herself look cool.
‘Thanks, babe. You’re here for the season, right?’
It was the ultimate backpacker compliment, and he knew it. Being called a ‘tourist’ was the ultimate insult.
‘Oh, yeah,’ she said, in her pretty little posh English voice. ‘I didn’t want to come here like some sort of, you know, tourist …’ Bingo. ‘I wanted to see the real Thailand.’
Resisting the temptation to ask her what she was actually doing to see the ‘real’ Thailand, Ben instead stuck out his hand and introduced himself.
‘Brad.’
‘Fliss,’ the girl simpered.
‘Brad? Actually, you do look a bit like Brad Pitt,’ said Fliss’s plainer, plumper friend, and Ben cursed himself for not having come up with a better pseudonym. ‘I’m Bex, by the way …’ She also held her hand out, shyly, and Ben shook it, limply.
‘So you two not goin’ to the party?’
‘We’ll head off in a bit,’ said Fliss, trying to sound cool again. ‘No hurry – it goes on all night.’
‘Yeah, so I heard. Maybe I’ll head over later myself.’
‘You could come with us?’ said Bex.
‘Maybe,’ Ben drawled.
‘So, what do you do, Brad?’ She hastily changed the subject – had she sounded too keen?
‘Oh, come on, Bex, that’s such a lame question,’ said Fliss. ‘What do you do? That is so, like, capitalist? Brad is a global citizen, just like us. Aren’t you, Brad? We don’t have to do anything! So much better to just be.’ She giggled as she handed him his beer over the wooden bar.
‘Hey, man, you think I never do anything?’ Fliss was really starting to wind him up, and Ben’s imagination went into overdrive, putting him right back into character. ‘I made, like, a million dollars writing gaming software …’
‘Wow,’ said Bex, gazing at him with undisguised admiration. He ignored her and, still in character, turned on Fliss.
‘Have you ever earned any dollars, or does your daddy just give it ya?’ He felt a bit mean as Fliss’s pretty blue eyes instantly brimmed with tears. Nobody had ever spoken to her like that, let alone taken Bex’s side over hers.
‘Well, actually,’ said Bex. ‘I worked in a pub all summer to save up enough money to come here. Fliss did get it all from her dad.’ She looked over at her friend and giggled nastily. Now Ben didn’t know which of them he disliked more.
‘Yeah, well, your dad paid for your flight, and all your rent while you were “working” in that scummy pub …’ She made air quotes and both girls glared at one another. ‘It hardly paid for your trip, did it, Bexy?’
Ben thought of Natalia’s bleak upbringing, and all he imagined she’d had to do to survive.
‘Hey, before I forget.’ He directed this at Bex. ‘A friend of a friend is staying on this beach at the moment. I’ve never met her before, but I thought I’d look her up. Her name is …’ He took a swig of his beer, and paused, as though he were trying to remember. ‘Natasha? No, that’s not right. Jeez, man, too much weed …’
Bex giggled as he fumbled in his rucksack and found the scrap of paper on which he’d written the name in pencil.
‘Yeah, Natalia …’
‘Natalia?’ squealed Fliss. ‘What, is she your mum’s friend, or something?’
‘No, just someone from back home.’ Ben struggled to keep his temper. ‘D’ya think she’s gone to the party tonight?’
‘Oh, no, she never does. Acts like it’s beneath her.’
Yes!
‘So, d’ya know where she might be now?’
‘Well, she was getting pissed with her lover boy all day. Not very dignified for someone her age.’ Fliss’s voice was spiteful; she’d quite fancied Juho, but after Natalia had turned up, he’d paid her no attention whatsoever.
‘Lover boy?’ Now it really was difficult to keep his tone nonchalant.
‘Yeah, Juho. He’s weird too. They do all this yoga stuff together. He’s staying in that hut over there.’
And she pointed over at the second nearest hut to the bar, which had a yoga mat on its deck, and several wind chimes hanging from a branch, tinkling in the breeze, above it.
God, what a dick, thought Ben.
‘Oh, look, talk of the devil, there he is!’
He was tall, lean and with good muscle definition, Ben noticed. He was trying to stride, but staggering slightly, in their direction, from the far end of the beach. He looked just as his hut had implied he might, all Zen-yoga-bollocks, with a shaved head, bare chest and Thai fisherman’s thin cotton trousers dangling above his bare feet and ankles. As he got closer, Ben was glad to see that his rival wasn’t anything like as good looking as he was.
What a cunt.
‘Hey,’ he shouted. ‘Are you the dude who knows a chick called Natalia?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Juho replied angrily.
Ben finally lost his temper, jumping off the bar stool and running over to Juho in the sand. ‘Becaus
e I’ve travelled over eight thousand fucking miles to find her!’ he exploded in his own voice, losing the stoner façade completely. He couldn’t see any reason to carry on keeping up pretences now. ‘Just tell me where the fuck she is, you bloody hippy retard!’
Juho looked at him in silence for about half a minute, taking him in. He recognized the face now – Ben’s first sitcom, People Like Us, had been quite a hit, even back in Helsinki. Ben Jones. Underneath the disguise, the man was disgustingly handsome.
‘Well, well, you came for her after all,’ he said slowly. ‘I underestimated you.’ His anger was fading now, leaving him deflated. ‘I left her right at the far end of the beach, behind those rocks. She will be glad to see you.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ben, holding out his hand to shake Juho’s.
‘You’re a lucky man. She told me she loved me like a brother.’
‘Jesus. You poor bastard.’ Ben looked Juho sincerely in the eye, shook his hand again, and started running down the beach, leaving Fliss and Bex gazing after him, bemusement written all over their pretty little faces.
Natalia was swimming out to sea, further and further, feeling calmer as she propelled her body through the smooth, still water, gazing up at the moon, feeling it drawing her towards it.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice how far she’d swum from the shore, until the sea ceased to be still, and currents were raging madly around her body. She had swum beyond the smooth safety of the bay, and now found herself adrift in the deep, dark ocean.
Shit, I’d better start heading back, she thought. But as she turned and aimed for the shore, she found that she couldn’t. However strong a swimmer she was, the ocean’s currents were stronger, pulling her back, and worse, in the direction of the jagged rocks to her left.
I shall not panic. I escaped Kiev. I escaped my old life. I will not let myself be beaten by the sea.
And she continued to battle against the most dangerous element of them all.
As Ben arrived, panting, at the place Juho had told him about, he looked around in despair. There was no sign of Natalia. But where could she have gone? He’d have seen her if she’d walked back, and she couldn’t go any further than the end of the beach. Unless …
He looked out to sea, and there, glinting in the moonlight, was a pale blonde head, tiny from this distance, but he would recognize that head anywhere. It was Natalia, and it looked as if she was in trouble.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Ben tore off all his clothes as quickly as he could – the combat shorts, with all their pockets, could significantly hinder his progress, and he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Naked, he ran into the still, warm water, and started swimming, his powerful front crawl driving him in Natalia’s direction. As he got closer, he was appalled to see how close to the rocks she was. Good God, what had she been thinking?
She was in serious danger now, he saw, her face contorted in fear as she desperately tried to swim against the powerful currents. He watched in horror as her head hit a glistening black boulder, and she started to sink, slowly, underwater. She was still a good ten feet away from him.
Taking an enormous breath, he swam down towards her, the salt water stinging his open eyes. Her blonde hair was floating upwards, streaked with blood from the gash on her head. Summoning every reserve of strength he had, his lungs bursting, he grabbed her under her arms and pulled her to the surface of the water, gasping for air as he hit it.
It was very hard work, swimming against the current with Natalia in his arms, but Ben had been working out a lot recently for his part in Beyond the Sea, and was now extremely strong.
At long last they reached the shore, and Ben carried Natalia out of the water, tears streaming down his already wet face, and tenderly laid her out on the sand. He smoothed her wet hair away from her face and checked out the cut on her head. It was no more than a surface wound, he saw, with relief, but that time under the water could have done some serious damage. She was certainly not conscious, and her lips were turning slightly blue.
‘Nat? Nat, my darling, please, please speak to me, please don’t die. Oh, my love, please live for me, please, my darling. We can live wherever you want, we can do whatever you want; I don’t give a fuck about anything except for you.’
Sobbing, and praying to every God he had ever heard of, he bent his head to hers and gave her the kiss of life.
Nothing.
‘I’ll give up my job, if you want, and we can live in complete obscurity on an island somewhere, if that’s what you want. Just please live, my darling. Oh, God, please let her live, please just let her live …’
Despairing, he tried the kiss of life again.
Nothing.
And then, just as Ben thought he might have to take his own life if she didn’t wake up, Natalia started coughing and spluttering, until, wonderfully, she leant over and vomited a huge deluge of water onto the sand.
Ben sat back on his heels and, weeping with relief, looked up at the star-studded sky.
‘Thank you, God, or Ganesh, or Allah, or whoever the fuck you are! Whatever the fuck you are, thank you, thank you, thank you …’
‘Ben? Is that really you?’ Natalia’s voice was hoarse, but she was smiling weakly up at him from the silvery sand. ‘Have I died and gone to heaven?’
Ben gave a hiccup of laughter through his tears and bent over to kiss her pale forehead, too choked to speak for a moment or two.
Natalia’s voice rose.
‘Ben? Are you naked? My God, I really must have died and gone to heaven.’
She sat up slowly, and, laughing and crying, they hugged and kissed and hugged and kissed, on and on and on, neither of them quite believing that the other was alive, and real.
Eventually, reluctantly, Natalia pulled away. She had so many questions rattling around her drunk, exhausted, very nearly drowned mind.
‘How did you find me?’
He put a gentle finger to her lips. ‘Shhh, shhh, I’ll tell you everything later, once you’ve had a hot shower and something to eat, and I’ve got some bloody clothes on.’
Natalia laughed and coughed up some more water. ‘No need to put your clothes on for me, sweetie.’
‘Maybe not, but I’m fucking freezing.’
Natalia laughed again, then started to shiver violently herself, remembering how terrified she had felt in the sea, how certain she had been that she was going to die. Ben put his arms tightly around her, stroking her hair with one strong hand. ‘Shhh, shhh, shhh, it’s OK, Nat, it’s OK, you’re safe now.’
‘Thank you.’ The words emerged almost as a whisper.
‘There is nothing to thank me for,’ said Ben simply. ‘If you had died, my life wouldn’t have been worth living. In the meantime, though, please promise me one thing?’
‘Anything.’ Natalia pulled back so she could look him straight in the eye.
‘Promise me that you’ll never run away from me again.’
‘Oh, that is easiest promise I have ever made. I promise you, Mr Movie Star. I promise.’
And she started to kiss him again.
Chapter 22
‘We’re not in Kansas any more, Toto,’ said Poppy, as Lars drove the hired Cadillac across the state line into Texas.
‘Thank fuck for that,’ said Bella, and Poppy and Lars both laughed. They had left their motel in one of Kansas City’s grottier suburbs at around nine o’clock that morning and had been driving for just over nine hours, only stopping for a fairly disgusting lunch of fatty sausages and other cold meats, unadorned by any form of vegetable matter. The miserable grey sky had spat on them all day, and the landscape had been unremittingly dull: miles and miles (and miles) of flat, flat terrain. At one stage they had driven for three hours without seeing a single tree.
‘Bloody hell, Lars, you were right about the Midwest,’ Bella had said. ‘Why would anybody in their right mind choose to drive this way, when you’ve got the lakes and Rockies in the north, and New Or
leans and all that romantic Charleston and Mississippi stuff in the south?’ Her grasp of US geography was fairly hazy, but she’d been looking things up on her iPhone to kill the unutterable tedium that was driving through Kansas.
‘You mean all that romantic Charleston and Mississippi lynching stuff?’ said Poppy. ‘It looks to me as if old Jack K was desperate to get back to NY and pretty much drew a straight line across the States …’
The day they’d left New York, they had stopped for lunch at a diner on the outskirts of Washington, DC. Over cheeseburgers and fries, Lars had grilled Poppy comprehensively about Damian’s route.
‘You say Kerouac, huh?’
‘Yup. As I said, he has deeply adolescent arrested development.’
‘So let’s see …’ He looked at the list that Poppy had written out in her curly turquoise handwriting. ‘New York City, Washington, DC, Pittsburgh, Columbus, Indianapolis, St Louis, Kansas City, Dalhart, Albuquerque, Prescott, Los Angeles …’ He looked up at Poppy.
‘Poppy, you are aware that this is the way Kerouac came back from LA?’
‘What?’ Bella looked from Lars to Poppy, not understanding. ‘What’s going on, Pops?’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know. The route he took to LA involved Chicago, Des Moines, Denver, Salt Lake City etc., but I just know that Damian was much more interested in the whole Midwest thing. I just know that that’s the way he’s gone …’
‘Oh, come on, Pops, this could be a complete wild-goose chase.’ Bella was starting to get angry now. ‘You told me you knew. It sounds to me like it could be one of two routes (even if he is doing the Kerouac thing, which is sounding increasingly tenuous, I must say), and it’s more likely to be the one we’re not taking. For fuck’s sake …’
‘Don’t for fuck’s sake me. He’s my husband, I know him.’ Poppy stuck stubbornly to her guns.
‘Ladies, ladies,’ said Lars, with a twinkle in his humorous blue eyes. ‘There is no need for this. I told you that you needed me on this trip, and this is why. May I see your phone, Poppy?’