فصل 03

Chapter three

Journey to Paradise

The morning sun played tricks in the sea. Gold shapes like fish spun beneath the surface. Sitting in the fisherman’s yellow and white motor boat on our way to the island, I reached down and put my hand in the water. The fish swam in and out of my fingers.

I looked back at Ko Samui. Strangely it seemed far behind us, but the island we were going to still appeared as distant as it had an hour ago. I didn’t move again until the water turned blue and I saw a coral bed beneath the boat. The fisherman turned off the engine.

‘Now you pay,’ he said, as we slid towards the shore of the island.

A few minutes later, I sat on the beach and watched the fisherman’s boat slowly disappear into the distance, on its way back to Ko Samui. A few metres away, Etienne was studying the map. He was trying to work out which of the several islands near us was our beach island, the one we had to swim to. He didn’t need my help, so I called to him that I was going to take a walk. I’d never been on a real desert island before - a deserted desert island - and I felt I ought to explore.

‘Don’t be long,’ Etienne said. ‘We should leave after lunch. We should not spend the night here.’

I started walking along the coast, looking for a place to turn inland. I eventually found some shady trees on the edge of a forest and sat down to smoke a cigarette.

Thinking about Thailand often makes me angry, and until I started writing this book I tried not to do it. I preferred it to stay hidden in the back of my mind. But I did think about Thailand sometimes, usually late at night. At those times I made an effort to remember sitting under those trees, smoking my cigarette. I chose this moment because it was the last time I could remember being me. Normal. Nothing much going through my head apart from how pretty the island was, and how quiet. It’s hard to explain. I’ve been relying on an idea that these things would become clear to me as I wrote them down. It doesn’t seem to be happening.

When I got back to the beach, I found Etienne making lunch.

I looked around. ‘Where’s Francoise?’ I asked.

‘She went to see how far it is to our island.’

When she came back, Francoise said our island was a kilometre away. To me, it just looked like a long swim.

‘Are you sure we can do this?’ I said, more to myself than anyone else.

‘We can,’ said Francoise.

‘We can try,’ Etienne corrected her.

We each took a few essential things from our backpacks and put them in strong plastic bags. The idea was that the bags would float on the water as we swam. They were strong enough to lean on, so we only had to swim with our legs. Then we hid our backpacks under some bushes.

At a quarter to four we were ready to leave. As we started to swim I heard Franoise say behind me, ‘Maybe more than one kilometre.’ Etienne said something in reply, but it was lost as a wave broke.

The swim passed in stages. The first was full of confidence, chatting and making jokes about sharks. Then, as our legs began to ache, we stopped talking. The jokes about sharks became fears, and I started to doubt that I had the strength to finish the swim. We were about halfway between the two islands. Not being able to finish the swim would mean dying. And then, strangely, things became easier. My legs seemed to kick automatically, allowing my mind to move beyond the pain. I was just thinking that I should try to pass my driving test if I got back to England, when I saw some wood on the beach ahead and realized we were nearly there.

When we reached the beach, we all fell exhausted on to the wet sand.

‘We’ve done enough,’ I said. ‘We’re staying here tonight.’

‘But our special beach may be close, no?’ said Etienne.

‘Shh.’

We set off immediately after breakfast. According to Mr Duck’s map, the beach we were looking for was on the other side of the island. At first we walked along the coast, but the sand soon turned to sharp rocks. We realized we would have to go inland and find our way through the jungle.

The first two or three hundred metres from the shore were the hardest. The spaces between the trees were covered with strange bushes with small leaves that sliced our legs like razors. But as we got further inland and the ground began to rise, there were fewer plants on the forest floor and we found animal tracks that we could follow.

After two hours of walking, we found ourselves at the bottom of a particularly steep slope. Etienne was the first to reach the top.

‘Hurry up!’ he called enthusiastically. ‘It is amazing.’

I climbed to the top next, leaving Francoise far behind. The slope led up to a shelf the size of a football pitch on the mountainside, so flat and neat that it seemed unnatural compared to the surrounding jungle. Etienne was ahead of me, standing in some bushy plants that looked familiar.

‘Cool!’ I said. ‘Dope!’

Etienne grinned. ‘Have you ever seen so much?’

‘Never…’ I pulled a few leaves from the nearest bush.

‘We should pick some, Richard. We can dry it in the sun and…’ Then he stopped. ‘Wait a moment, there is something funny here.’

‘What?’

‘Well, it is just so… These plants…’ His face turned white. ‘This is a field.’

I froze. ‘But it can’t be a field. I mean, these islands are…’

‘The plants are in rows.’ We stared at each other. ‘We are in deep trouble.’

Just then Francoise appeared, calling out to us.

‘Hey! I have seen some people further up the mountain. They are coming this way. Maybe they are from our beach, no?’

I ran towards her. ‘Shut up!’ I said, putting my hand over her mouth. ‘This is a dope field. Do you understand?’

Lying flat on the earth, looking through the leaves, we listened to the Thai voices getting closer and waited for people to appear. A man stepped into the field. He was young, maybe twenty. His chest was bare and we could see his strong muscles. He wore military trousers and held a gun in his hand. A second man appeared, also with a gun. They stopped and exchanged a few words. Then another man came out from the jungle and they set off again, down the slope we’d just climbed up.

Two or three minutes after their voices had faded away, Francoise suddenly burst into tears. Then Etienne started crying too. I watched the two of them blankly. The shock of discovering the fields and the tension while we’d been hiding had left me feeling empty.

Finally I managed to say, ‘OK. We’ve got to leave. They might come back soon and find us.’

‘Richard,’ said Etienne. ‘I do not want to die here. You must get us out.’

I must get them out? Me? I couldn’t believe my ears! But just by looking at him, I could tell he wasn’t going to take control of the situation. And neither was Francoise. She was staring at me with the same scared expression as Etienne.

So, having no choice, it was me who took the decision to go on.

I have almost no memory of the few hours after leaving the dope field. I think I was concentrating so hard on our immediate survival as we made our way down the other side of the mountain, that I can’t remember anything until we reached the waterfall.

It was the height of a four-storey building - the kind of height I hate to stand upright near, so I crawled to the cliff edge on my stomach. On either side of the waterfall the cliff continued, eventually curving around into the sea, then, unbroken, rejoining the land on the far side. It was as if a huge circle had been cut out of the island to form a lagoon in a wall of rock - just as Zeph had described. From where we sat we could see that the cliffs were no more than thirty metres thick, but a passing boat could never guess what lay behind them. The water in the lagoon was presumably supplied by underwater caves and channels. The waterfall dropped into a pool from which a quick-flowing stream ran into the trees. Getting down into the pool was the problem.

‘I think we’ve definitely found the right place,’ I said to Etienne and Francoise, as I crawled back from the cliff edge. ‘It’s where Mr Duck’s map says it is, and it fits Zeph’s description perfectly.’

‘Richard, there must be a way down, no?’ said Francoise. ‘If people go to the beach, there must be a way.’

‘If people go to the beach,’ I echoed. We hadn’t seen any sign that people were down there. The beach looked beautiful but completely deserted.

‘Maybe we can jump from the waterfall,’ said Etienne.

I thought for a moment. ‘Possibly,’ I replied. I crawled back to the cliff edge and looked down at the pool. I stood up cautiously. ‘OK,’ I whispered to myself.

‘Are you jumping?’ called Etienne nervously.

‘Just taking a better look,’ I called back.

‘So jump,’ I heard my voice say. I paused, wondering if I’d heard myself correctly, and then I did. I jumped.

Everything happened as things are supposed to happen while one falls. I had time to think. Stupid things flashed through my head, like how my cat slipped off the kitchen table once and landed on its head. Then I hit the pool. It was so deep I never even touched the bottom.

‘Ha!’ I shouted, not caring who might hear. ‘I’m alive!’

I looked up and saw Etienne and Francoises heads looking over the cliff.

‘You are OK?’ called Etienne.

‘I’m fine! I’m brilliant! Throw down the plastic bags!’

I sat on the grass and waited for Etienne and Francoise to jump. The man appeared just as I was lighting a cigarette. He walked out of the trees a few metres away from me. His skin was deeply sunburnt and he was wearing nothing except a pair of old blue shorts and a necklace made of sea shells. He had a full beard, which made it hard to tell his age, but I didn’t think he was much older than me.

‘Hey,’ he said with his head on one side. ‘You did the jump quickly for a newcomer.’ His accent was English. ‘It took me over an hour but I was alone so it was harder.’

Over the sound of the waterfall Etienne’s voice called to me, saying he was going to jump. He wouldn’t have been able to see the man. I didn’t bother to answer him.

When Etienne and Francoise had both jumped, we followed the man through the trees. We didn’t talk much as we walked. The only thing he would tell us was his name - Jed. He wouldn’t answer the rest of our questions. ‘Easier to talk at the camp,’ he explained. ‘We’ve got as many questions for you as you’ve got for us.’

At first glance, the camp was like I’d imagined it might be. There was a large, dusty clearing surrounded by trees, with some huts and a few tents. At the far end was a larger building, a longhouse, and beside it the stream from the waterfall reappeared.

I only noticed after looking at all this that there was something strange about the light. It was more like dusk than midday. I looked up, following the trunk of one of the huge trees. The lower branches had been cut away, but higher up the branches began to grow again, curving upwards over the clearing until they joined with the branches from the other side. They had formed a ceding of wood and leaves over the clearing.

‘We don’t want to be seen from the air,’ Jed explained. ‘Planes sometimes fly over. Not often but sometimes.’ He pointed upwards. ‘Originally the branches were tied together with ropes but now they just grow that way. Clever, huh?’

‘Amazing,’ I agreed. I was so busy looking up that I didn’t even notice that people had begun to come out of the longhouse and were walking across the clearing towards us. Three people to be exact. Two women and a man.

‘Sal, Cassie and Bugs,’ said one of the women in an American accent as they reached us. ‘I’m Sal but don’t try to remember our names.’ She smiled warmly. ‘You’ll only get confused when you meet the others, and you’ll learn them all eventually.’

I’m not likely to forget a name like Bugs, I thought to myself, managing not to laugh. I frowned and put a hand up to my forehead. Since jumping off the waterfall, my head had been feeling increasingly light. Now it had started to feel like it might float off my shoulders.

Francoise stepped up to the woman and said, ‘Francoise, Etienne and Richard.’

‘You’re French! Lovely! We’ve only got one other French person here.’

‘Richard is English,’ Francoise said, pointing at me, and I tried to nod politely.

‘Lovely!’ said the woman again, watching me curiously out of the corner of her eye. ‘Well, I know you’re all hungry so let’s get you some food.’ She turned to the man. ‘Bugs, can you make some soup? Then we can all have a long chat and get to know each other. Does that sound good?’

‘It sounds great, Sal,’ I said loudly. ‘You know, you’re quite right, I do feel hungry. We’ve only eaten…’

Jed ran to catch me as I fainted, but too late. As I fell backwards, the last thing I saw was a tiny bit of blue sky through the leafy ceiling. Then darkness rushed in.

Late morning, I guessed. Only from the heat. In the darkness of the longhouse and the steady light of the candle, there was nothing else to reveal the time.

The woman called Sal sat at the foot of my bed. She was wearing a yellow T-shirt, and her long hair was tied back from her face. Around her neck was a necklace of sea shells.

‘Finish it, Richard,’ she said, looking at the bowl of fish soup that I held in my hands.

I lifted the bowl to my mouth then put it down again.

‘I can’t, Sal.’

‘You must, Richard. You’ve had a bad fever.’

‘I’ve finished most of it. Look.’ I held up the bowl.

‘OK,’ she said, then folded her arms. ‘Richard, we need to talk.’

We were alone in the longhouse. Occasionally I heard people enter and leave, but I couldn’t see them. As I spoke Sal didn’t interrupt me, frown, smile or nod. She just sat on the floor and listened. Soon I found myself talking to her as if she were a tape recorder or a priest. I told her everything that had happened since I arrived in Bangkok. When I told her about finding Mr Duck’s body, she looked sad. The only thing I didn’t mention was that I’d given two other people directions to the island. I knew I should tell her about Zeph and Sammy, but I also thought she might be angry if she knew I’d spread the secret. Better to wait until I knew more about the camp and the other people who lived here.

At the end of my story she smiled. ‘Well, Richard, it sounds like you had quite an adventure getting here.’

I waited for her to continue but she didn’t.

‘Uh, now can I ask you some questions, Sal?’ I said quickly.

‘I have some things to do, Richard,’ she said, standing up.

‘Just a few questions.’

She sat down again. ‘OK. Five minutes.’

‘Well… first I’d just like to know something about this place. I mean, what is it?’

‘It’s a beach resort. A place to come for vacations.’

I frowned. ‘A beach resort?’ I felt so disappointed. I was a traveller, not a tourist.

‘What did you think this place was?’ asked Sal.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t think anything really. But I certainly didn’t think it was just a beach resort.’

Sal waved a hand in the air. ‘Well, OK, Richard. Of course this is more than a beach resort. We come here to relax by a beautiful beach but it isn’t a beach resort because we’re trying to get away from those sorts of places. Or we’re trying to make a place that won’t turn into one. See?’

‘No.’

‘You will see, Richard. It’s not complicated.’

‘How about the gunmen in the dope fields?’ I asked. ‘Are they anything to do with you?’

Sal shook her head. ‘I have a feeling the fields are owned by ex fishermen from Ko Samui but I could be wrong. They came to that half of the island a couple of years ago. We can’t go there now.’

‘But they know you’re here.’

‘Of course, but there isn’t much they can do. They can’t report us. If the marine park authorities came to look for us they’d find them too.’

‘One more question,’ I said, as she stood up to go. ‘The man in Bangkok. Mr Duck. You knew him?’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly, then began walking away, ‘he was a friend.’

‘But… OK, just one more question. Where’s the toilet?’

‘Outside, second hut along by the edge of the camp,’ she said, as she left the longhouse.

When I went outside, I counted nine tents in the clearing and five huts, not including the longhouse. The tents were only used for sleeping but the huts all seemed to have different uses. Apart from the toilet, there was a kitchen and a washing area. The other huts were used for storing things. One contained carpentry tools and another some boxes of tinned food.

As I wandered around the clearing, I found it strange that the camp was so deserted. Where was everybody? Where were my friends, Etienne and Francoise? I began to feel a little lonely and sorry for myself, so I decided to get out of the clearing and try to find them.

By good luck the path I chose led directly to the beach. I’d walked a few hundred metres when I noticed some people splashing around in the sea near one of the large rocks. At last I’d found someone. As I got nearer, I saw that there were six swimmers fishing with spears. They seemed to be catching a lot of fish. When they came out of the water onto the beach, none of the group noticed me. I had to stand there for a few moments, waiting for one of them to look up.

Etienne finally saw me. ‘Richard! You are better!’ He raced over to me. ‘Everybody, this is our friend who was ill.’

‘Hi, Richard,’ the swimmers said.

I was introduced to all of them. Moshe, a tall Israeli guy with a loud laugh. Two Yugoslav girls whose names I could never pronounce and certainly never spell. And then Gregorio, who I liked at once. He had a kind face and a soft Latin accent.

As we walked back along the beach, Etienne told me about what I’d missed while I’d had a fever. Then Gregorio came up to me.

‘You feel a bit strange with all these new people?’

‘Oh, uh… yeah. A bit.’

‘These first days are difficult, of course, but do not worry. You will find friends quickly, Richard.’

I smiled. The way he spoke made me feel a lot better.

When we got back to the camp, it was full of people. A fat guy was busy preparing fish outside the kitchen hut. Beside him a girl blew on a wood fire. Most of the people were just walking around the clearing, chatting. Gregorio was right. I did feel strange - a bit like a new boy in school. As I looked around, I wondered which of the faces would become my friends.