Emily smiled back. Marianne’s words started to register at last.
“Hey, we’ve all been there at some point.” Marianne broke the silence. A sudden darkness seemed to take hold of her face, her confident smile fading and the sparkle in her eye dying.
Emily racked her brain for something to say. Should she ask? They were sharing, after all.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She kept her voice soft and inviting.
Marianne locked her gaze on Emily, eyes boring deep and face unflinching. Emily swallowed hard and concluded she might be in over her head a bit. This was a sombreness she had yet to encounter in her life. A dull sadness hung in the air and swept away any of the elation Emily had been feeling.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” What was she thinking? That because they’d had a short moment of bonding over the fact that they were both gay was going to make this stranger open up to her?
“It’s not your fault.” Marianne’s voice was unrecognisable, coming from a low, desperate place. One where words failed. “I just… can’t…” Marianne pushed her chair away from the table. “By no means do I want to trivialise the moment we shared tonight by storming off. I’m genuinely happy for you, but I need to go upstairs now.”
She walked to the edge of the yard and closed the gate, her movements sparse and precise. When she walked past the table where Emily sat she remained silent. Only when she’d reached the door to the house, she turned around.
“Just let the door fall into the lock and twist it around twice when you go inside. Goodnight.”
The tremble in her voice was unmistakable. And so was the pain etched in the lines of her face.
MARIANNE
Marianne could kick herself for her cold reaction. The girl had just admitted something life-changing to herself—and to Marianne. Something Marianne could relate to like no other, no less, and this was how she responded? Slinking off like a thief in the night as if it could ever undo the past? As if it made a difference?
Any sliver of joy, any indication that she might enjoy herself a bit too much, and the guilt set in. Like the storm clouds in rainy season, drenching a perfectly good day in a million tears. And all there was to show for them afterwards were a few puddles that dried up in a matter of hours.
But she was guilty. And instead of doing time in a prison cell, she spent it in paradise. In perpetual exile, because no one could punish her better than she could herself. When people arrived here, on her little patch of land on Samui, they only saw the palm trees, the glittering ocean and white-headed waves, but they didn’t see—couldn’t see—what wasn’t there. The missing person. Nothing could be more punishment for Marianne than spending her days here, in this place that people dream of, without Ingrid.
She peeled off her clothes and slipped into bed. It would have to be a night of medicated sleep. She hadn’t had one of those for a while, had somehow managed to keep the demons at bay—some days it was easier than others, but more so of late. She grabbed a strip of pills from the nightstand—always close by—and swallowed one dry. Sleep came within minutes.
“Toast?” Marianne grinned broadly—overcompensating for last night’s insensitivity, no doubt. And yes, she’d had a one-way heart-to-heart with Emily, but that didn’t make her qualified to predict her sense of humour, especially before breakfast. Even though it was almost ten. Gosh, the girl slept late. Marianne had been up for hours, skulking around the house, hushing herself when she made too much noise.
“Do I get my own toaster now?” Emily still looked a bit groggy, a pinch of moon dust had gathered in the corner of her right eye, but she was awake enough for a quip. Clearly, she hadn’t showered yet. Marianne would have heard—but even if she hadn’t—the crumpled look of Emily’s clothes and the riot that was her hair gave that away.
Suddenly, without notice and from the far recesses of her brain, Marianne envisioned herself waking up to the very sight before her eyes, to a warm body next to hers.
She blinked twice rapidly and shook off the thought. Where on earth did that come from?
“I’ll call HQ and see what I can do.” Marianne found herself rummaging around the kitchen, looking for things she didn’t need. “Coffee or tea?”
“Strong coffee, please.” Emily rubbed her temples ostentatiously. “After you went to bed, I helped myself to some more beer from the fridge. I hope that’s all right. I lined up the bottles so you could count them and charge me.”
Marianne had indeed found three empty Singha bottles in the kitchen this morning. She’d cleared them without giving them any further thought. “Nonsense. This is an all-inclusive lesbian resort, you know.”
“But—” Marianne could see Emily struggling to get past her utter Britishness and say something about money. “I want to pay. It’s only fair.”
“Why don’t you sit down outside and I’ll bring your breakfast out in a second.”
“As you wish,” Emily shrugged and headed towards the patio, which was drenched in sunlight. Marianne watched her for a second and saw her stretch like a cat, her long arms leaning over the back of the chair, seemingly reaching towards her. For some reason, Marianne felt inclined to meet them and take Emily’s hands in hers.
“I’ll leave you in peace,” Marianne, suddenly feeling defensive, said, when she brought Emily her coffee and toast with little jam and butter cups.
“Please stay, if you don’t have anything else to do.” Emily’s eyes were bright and blue, catching the sunlight. “I, huh, like talking to you.”
“I’ll be right back.” Marianne giggled inwardly as she sauntered to the kitchen to fetch herself a mug of coffee. When she dragged a chair back from the table at which Emily sat munching toast a few minutes later, it couldn’t have felt more right. She wanted to stretch out her body as well, the way cats do after a satisfying nap. Instead, she faced Emily with a straight back. Some things can never be unlearned no matter how far you remove yourself from the place you were taught.
“Thank you for last night,” Emily said in between bites, almost casually. There was something different about her today, a lighter air, as if a weight had been lifted. Although Marianne had no objective way of measuring this, since she’d only just met her and only had half a day to go on. But she could well imagine how Emily was feeling. “You’ve no idea how much I needed to say those words.”
“I’m glad I was witness to them.” Marianne did in no way underestimate the power of the moment for Emily.
“Do you mind me asking what it was like for you?” Emily seemed much bolder today, like someone who had for the first time truly realised the splendour of the life she had to live.
But Marianne had no intention of sharing. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. It was not part of the deal she’d made with herself five years ago. It was not part of the punishment. She wasn’t here for sharing, nor for revelling in past, very fleeting, but profoundly impacting moments of happiness. She was here for penance and penance only.
“Maybe later.” She found herself unable to close the door on Emily and the conversation completely though. That was a first.
EMILY
“I’m sorry if I was too forward last night. I’m usually not, but what with my big revelation and all. I didn’t quite feel like myself.” Marianne wore a faded black Velvet Underground t-shirt today. She must have a vast collection. Emily firmly believed her host didn’t dress like that back in Britain. That it was as much a defence mechanism and escape from whatever had happened as her exile here. She wouldn’t press Marianne for more information, of course—that would obviously never work—but she could gently probe.
“Or maybe you did.” Marianne looked at her over the rim of her cup. She really was an expert at fending off questions. “What’s on your agenda today?”
“Some time by the pool, on the beach and with my nose in a book.” She smiled at the prospect. “Busy times. Love it.”
“Excellent choices.” Marianne put her cup down. “And j
ust so you know, there are a few good restaurants along the beach and I can arrange for transportation if you want to go into town.”
“Thanks. I may venture a few steps to the left or the right, but most part of the day will be spent on my backside in this truly lovely spot.”
“If you do decide to venture out, the squid three doors down is to die for.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far…” Emily grinned stupidly at Marianne. “What does your day look like?” She couldn’t remember ever having asked any other of the hotel owners or staff where she’d stayed at. Then again, she’d never come out to any of them on her first night there, either.
“A couple of guests are arriving at noon.”
Emily noticed the spark of disappointment taking root in her stomach at hearing this news. As if she somehow regretted that she wouldn’t have Marianne, and her lovely house, all to herself anymore. How selfish.
“So I’ll be here throughout the day.” Marianne winked and it caught Emily so off guard she nearly choked on her last piece of toast. “In case you need me.”
“That’s good to know,” she managed. And it really was good to know.
Emily lounged by the pool the rest of the morning. In any other place, she would have plugged in her headphones and escaped the intruding sounds of her surroundings, but here she took comfort in hearing Marianne scurrying about, talking to the woman who came in to help her and showing the new guests around.
“Dao’s making club sandwiches for the new arrivals,” Marianne’s voice, out of nowhere, beamed behind Emily a bit past noon. “Want one?” Emily had been ignoring the rumbling sounds of her stomach, eager to stay as motionless as possible in the heat.
“I think I’ll go try that squid you mentioned earlier.” Emily watched Marianne ponder her response.
“Excellent idea.”
Emily didn’t reply, as if waiting for Marianne to continue… or perhaps offer to join. Another pang of disappointment rushed through her at Marianne’s matter-of-factness.
“You may want to put on some more sunscreen when you walk along the beach. Enjoy and see you later.” She turned on her heels and focused her attention on the other guests. An older couple with, if Emily had heard correctly, a rather thick Scottish accent.
Feeling somehow stood up—although she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why—Emily had no other choice but to gather her affairs and find the beachside seafood restaurant on her own.
Restaurant was a big word for the shack-like structure that displayed its freshly caught wares in a kayak filled with ice under the shade of a palm tree right on the beach. The food was succulent though, and the view breathtaking. Emily stuffed herself with squid grilled with pepper and garlic, so simple but so heavenly, spicy Thai soup and a huge plate of morning glory.
She’d been eating most of her meals alone for weeks on end, but now, all of a sudden, it grated. Some people’s company was so much superior to other’s. She made her way back to The Red Lodge, which was not, as the name would suggest, painted red on the outside. In fact, the colour red was quite absent for an establishment boasting it in its name. She’d have to ask Marianne about that. Maybe she would even reply.
To her disappointment, she didn’t immediately spot Marianne upon her return. There was no sign of the Scottish couple either and the Lodge seemed suddenly too deserted. Maybe Emily had reached her threshold of being alone. Last night, her trip had reached its conclusion when she’d finally said the words to someone. Words so obvious, but somehow so difficult to utter. Until she met Marianne.
She dumped her bag on a patio chair, extracted the sunscreen and applied a fresh coat before tip-toeing through the hot sand to the shore line. After a refreshing dive into the lazy waves, she turned her back to the horizon and squinted in the direction of the seemingly empty Lodge. The water was indigo, the sand pearly white. What a place to come out of the closet. But, of course, she knew it was only the beginning. The real work still lay ahead. Braving the disappointment in her mother’s gaze. She could perfectly predict Jasper’s flabbergasted reaction as she was sure he didn’t have a clue. And was her father ready to employ a lesbian solicitor at his firm?
Emily dipped her head back under water—not too long as not to miss Marianne’s return to the Lodge—and revelled in the fact that she had a few more days of peace and quiet before returning to real life.
MARIANNE
Despite promising Emily she’d be around all day, Marianne found herself fleeing the Lodge—her self-created safe haven. For some reason, it didn’t feel so safe anymore. Marianne had faced numerous probing questions before and had always shrugged them off elegantly, with a quip and a chuckle, quickly and efficiently. Her usual modus operandi didn’t seem to work with Emily. The most disconcerting aspect of it was that it wasn’t because of Emily’s gentle insistence—nothing she hadn’t dealt with before—but because of that melting feeling beneath her stomach.
“Another one please, Sam.” She tapped a finger against the sweaty neck of her beer bottle.
“You’re killing them off fast today.” He looked at his worn watch ostentatiously. “Bit early, even for a die-hard lesbian like yourself.”
Not in the mood for banter, Marianne didn’t take the bait. She shot her friend a crooked smile and he knew her well enough to leave it alone. Sometimes, when the silence inside her head became too deafening, Marianne did visit Sam’s bar for a bout of meaningless conversation. When she hadn’t had guests in a while and even the Lodge, with its sprawling view, felt too isolated. Today, though, her mind was not quiet but busy trying to figure out why Emily’s presence had such an instant effect on her.
Sam planted another beer in front of her and, with a wink, retreated to the other side of the bar. A group of three backpackers sat by the open window, but Marianne easily blocked out the noise they made.
She brought the bottle to her mouth, letting the cold liquid cool her off from the inside.
Marianne definitely recognised herself in Emily. The posh background. The doubts. The relief of telling someone. The crushing social expectations. In the end, it all hadn’t really mattered. It had all worked itself out, until that day…
She saw a version of herself in Emily she hadn’t been acquainted with for so long. That eager look in her blue eyes, speaking of a life not free of challenges but wide open with possibility. Sentiments unimaginable to Marianne now. Seeing such desire for life burn in Emily’s eyes made her look back, though. It made her remember a time she didn’t allow herself, out of sheer self-preservation, to revisit.
It also made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years. A crack in her guard she’d worked so hard to keep up—she’d deemed absolutely necessary for her own survival. Emily’s innocence and unassuming way of asking questions almost made her want to answer them.
Maybe it was time. Maybe the wall had been up long enough for the most broken pieces of her to heal behind it.
Not before she had another beer, though. She signalled Sam, who was busy washing glasses at the sink.
“Either you tell me what’s going on,” Sam said as he deposited a glass of ice water in front of her, “or I ban you from my bar. And I damn well know this is your favourite place on the island.” The grin that came with his statement was disarming, his thick Australian accent charming as always.
Marianne shoved the water aside. “Give me another beer and I may well tell you all my best kept secrets.”
“I’m not asking for your secrets, darling.” Sam leaned onto the counter of the bar with his elbows. “But it’s not like you to come here in the middle of the afternoon and get hammered.”
“There’s this girl,” Marianne blurted out. She shook her head before continuing, feeling as if she’d already said too much. Emily was just a girl passing through, like so many others. There was no reason why she should be any different.
“Ah.” Sam’s knuckle briefly touched her wrist. “About time.”
Marianne knew he meant well, but his
response was enough to snap her out of it. She’d left the Lodge after watching Emily trail off to the fish restaurant and had skipped lunch altogether. Her head was spinning from too much beer, her guard was slipping and she needed to be alone. Sleep it off. Make it go away. Again.
“I’d better go.” She reached for the pocket of her jeans shorts. “What’s the score?”
“Pay me later.” Sam grabbed her by the arm. “And give me your car keys, please. I’ll call Aran and have him take you home.”
Marianne had never told Sam about what had driven her to seek solitary refuge in Thailand and he had no way of knowing that his words would rouse such emotion from her. Marianne fought hard against the tears. Unable to fend them off on her own, she reached for the glass of water and swallowed a few icy gulps. They left her cold inside, just the way she liked it.
She waited for Aran in silence, a fatigue creeping through her flesh. She just wanted to sleep. And forget. Maybe even pretend Emily wasn’t here so she didn’t have to experience these feelings. What were they anyway? Hormones?
After Aran dropped her off, she went straight up the stairs, avoiding any possible contact with Emily or the other guests. She drew the curtains shut and pretended it was long after night fall. She fell onto her bed, fully clothed, screwed her eyes shut and tried to convince herself everything could stay the same until she fell asleep. She woke up just before ten p.m.
EMILY
Emily spent the rest of the afternoon alone, wondering where Marianne had gone. After nibbling on a pomelo salad while engaged in reluctant conversation with the Scots—she’d much rather be talking to Marianne over dinner—she fetched her Kindle and retreated to the beach with a beer.
Her eyes kept drifting away from the illuminated screen, off into the black horizon in front of her, while her thoughts always came back to Marianne. Why was she so secretive? Although Emily was quite certain Marianne would just call it discreet. What had brought her here? If Emily really wanted to, she could find out. Few people leave Holland Park behind for Koh Samui, and her father would quite possibly know about it. But this would require sending him an e-mail and establishing contact with home a few days too soon. She needed the time between now and going home to sort some things out in her head.
Summer's End Page 3