3
On Christmas Eve – which just happened to be a full moon to boot – I automatically did what Star and I used to do every year with our sisters, and looked up into the night sky to search for the bright, magical star that Pa always told us was the Star of Bethlehem. I’d once googled the star he’d pointed to and, with Ally’s help, discovered that it was in fact the North Star – Polaris. In Switzerland, it was high in the sky all year round, but tonight I couldn’t even find it. Then I remembered that Google also said it was harder to see the further south you went. I gazed heavenward and thought how sad it was that we weren’t kids any more, and that we could discover the truth by pressing a few keys on a computer.
But tonight, I decided, I would believe in magic. I fixed my gaze on the brightest star I could find and thought of Atlantis. Besides, even if Christmas wasn’t celebrated in Buddhist culture, Thailand still made an attempt for its international guests by hanging up tinsel and foil banners, which at least put everyone in a good mood.
Just before midnight, I wandered out of the noisy bar and walked down towards the rocks to get the best view of the full moon. And there, already standing in the shadows, was the mystery man – once again in the dark, and once again alone. I felt really irritated because I wanted this moment to be special and to have the space to myself, so I turned tail and walked away from him. Then, when I was far enough away, I looked up and spoke to my sister.
‘Merry Christmas, Star. Hope it’s a good one, and that you’re well and comfortable. I miss you,’ I whispered to the sky. I sent up a little wish to Pa, and then Ma too, who probably missed Pa just as much as any of us. After that, I sent up a kiss to all of my sisters – even Electra, who didn’t really deserve a kiss because she was so selfish and mean and spoilt . . . But it was Christmas, after all. I turned back, my legs feeling a bit wobbly beneath me, due to the extra beer that had been pressed into my hand at the bar earlier.
As I was passing the mystery man, I stumbled slightly and a pair of hands reached out to the top of my arms to steady me. ‘Thanks,’ I muttered. ‘There was an, er . . . rock in the sand.’
‘That’s okay.’
As his hands left my arms, I looked up at him. He’d obviously been in for a swim as his long black hair had been released from its ponytail and hung wet about his shoulders. He had what Star and I had nicknamed a chest beard – although it wasn’t a very impressive one – and the line of black hairs travelling from his navel to his shorts formed a shadow in the moonlight. His legs looked quite hairy too.
My eyes travelled back up to his face and I saw that his cheekbones stood out like saws above his dark beard, which made his lips seem very full and pink in comparison. When I actually dared to look him in the eyes, I saw that they were a really amazing blue.
I decided he reminded me of a werewolf. After all, tonight was a full moon. He was so skinny and tall that I felt like a plump pygmy next to him.
‘Merry Christmas,’ he mumbled.
‘Yeah, merry Christmas.’
‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’ he said. ‘You were the girl lying asleep that morning on the beach.’
‘Probably. I’m there a lot.’ I shrugged casually as his weird blue eyes swept over me.
‘Don’t you have a room?’
‘Yeah, but I like sleeping outside.’
‘All those stars, the vastness of the universe . . . it puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?’ He sighed heavily.
‘It does. Where are you staying?’
‘Nearby.’ The Werewolf waved his hand vaguely at the rock behind him. ‘You?’
‘There.’ I pointed back towards the Railay Beach Hotel. ‘Or at least, my rucksack is,’ I added. ‘Bye then.’ I turned towards the hotel, doing my best to try and walk in a straight line, which was hard enough on sand, but with two beers inside me, almost impossible. I could feel the Werewolf’s eyes upon me as I reached the veranda and allowed myself a quick backwards glance. He was still staring at me, so I grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and scurried upstairs to Jack’s room. After fumbling to unlock the door, I crept onto the balcony to try and spot him, but he’d disappeared into the shadows.
Perhaps he was waiting for me to go to sleep, and then numb my senses by sticking two enormous fangs into my neck so I wouldn’t scream as he sucked my blood dry . . .
CeCe, that’s vampires, not werewolves, I told myself with a giggle, then hiccuped and drank a bottle of water straight down, irritated with myself and my pathetic body for not being able to cope with two small beers. I staggered to the bed, feeling my head spin when I closed my eyes, and eventually passed out into oblivion.
* * *
Christmas Day was painfully similar to last year here with Star. The tables on the veranda had all been pushed together, and a parody of a roast lunch had been laid out, as if it was possible to recreate the essence of Christmas in thirty-four-degree heat.
After lunch, feeling bloated from the stodgy European food, I took a swim to work the feeling off. It was almost three o’clock, around the time that England would be waking up. Star was probably spending it in Kent with her new family. I emerged from the sea and shook the water droplets off me like a dog. There were lots of couples lying lazily together on the beach, sleeping off their lunches. It was the first Christmas in twenty-seven years that Star and I had spent apart. Well, if the mystery man was a werewolf, then I was a lone wolf now, and I just had to get used to it.
Later on that evening, I was sitting on the corner of the veranda, listening to music through my iPod. It was of the crashing, banging variety, which always cheered me up when I was feeling low. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned round to see Jack standing beside me.
‘Hi there,’ I said, taking my earphones out.
‘Hi. Can I buy you a beer?’
‘No thanks. Had enough last night.’ I rolled my eyes at him, knowing he’d been far too drunk to notice what I’d had.
‘Sure. Look, Cee, the thing is that, well . . .’ He pulled up a chair and sat next to me. ‘Nam and I have . . . fallen out. Can’t remember what I did wrong, but she kicked me out of bed at four this morning. She didn’t even turn up today to help with the Christmas lunch, so I don’t think I’ll get a warm welcome back tonight. You know what women are like.’
Yeah, I am one, remember? I felt like saying, but didn’t.
‘So, the problem is, I’ve got nowhere to kip. D’you mind sharing the bed with me?’
Yes, I do mind! I thought immediately. ‘Really, Jack, as long as I can leave my rucksack in your room, I’m happy to sleep on the beach,’ I assured him.
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’
‘Sorry, Cee, I’m completely knackered after all the preparations for Christmas and the extra work over the last few days.’
‘It’s fine. I’ll just go and get what I need and leave you to it.’
‘I’m sure we’ll be able to find you somewhere tomorrow,’ he called to me as I walked away, feeling the beach was a much better option than sleeping in the same room as a snoring man I hardly knew. Now that would give me nightmares.
I collected my makeshift bedding, then stuffed the rest of my possessions into my rucksack. Tomorrow, I really needed to find myself a place to stay until I left for Australia in two weeks’ time.
On the beach, I made my bed under a bush and, on a whim, I dug my mobile out of my shorts and dialled Atlantis.
‘Hello?’ The phone was picked up after a couple of rings. ‘Hi, Ma, it’s CeCe. I just wanted to wish you and Claudia a happy Christmas.’
‘CeCe! I am so happy to hear from you! Star said you’d gone away. Where are you?’
Ma always spoke to us sisters in French and I had to adjust my brain before I could answer her. ‘Oh, you know me, Ma, on a beach, doing my thing.’
‘Yes. I didn’t think you’d last long in London.’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘You’re a free spirit, chérie. You have wanderlust.’
‘Yes, I do.’ At that moment, I loved Ma just about as much as I’d ever loved her. She never judged or criticised, just supported her girls.
I heard the sound of a deep male cough in the background and my ears pricked up.
‘Who’s there with you?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘Just Claudia and Christian,’ said Ma.
In other words, the Atlantis staff.
‘Right. You know, Ma, it was really weird, but when I got to the airport in London three weeks ago, I’m sure I saw Pa. He was walking back the other way and I tried to run and catch him, but he’d gone. I know this sounds stupid, but, like, I was sure it was him.’
‘Oh chérie,’ I heard Ma sigh deeply down the line. ‘You are not the first of your sisters to say something like this to me. Both Ally and Star told me that they were convinced they had heard or seen him . . . and perhaps you all did. But not in reality. Or at least, not reality as we know it.’
‘You think we’re all seeing and hearing the ghost of Pa?’ I chuckled.
‘I think we wish to believe we are still seeing him, so perhaps our imaginations conjure him up. I see him all the time here,’ Ma said, suddenly sounding very sad. ‘And this is such a difficult time of year for us all. You are well, CeCe?’
‘You know me, Ma, never had a day’s illness in my life.’
‘And happy?’
‘I’m fine. You?’
‘I’m missing your father, of course, and all you girls. Claudia sends her love.’
‘Same to her. Okay, Ma, it’s late here, I’m getting my head down now.’
‘Keep in touch, won’t you, CeCe?’
‘Yeah, course I will. Night.’
‘Goodnight, chérie. And joyeux Noel.’’
I tucked my mobile back into my shorts, then put my arms around my knees and rested my head on them, thinking how hard this Christmas must be for her. Us girls could move on to a future – or at least, we could try. We had more life ahead of us than we’d already lived, but Ma had given hers to us girls and Pa. I wondered then if she’d actually loved my father in a ‘romantic’ way, and decided she must have done to stay on for all those years and make our family her family. And now we had all left her.
I then wondered if my real mum had ever missed me or thought of me, and why she’d given me to Pa. Maybe she’d dumped me in an orphanage somewhere, and he’d collected me from there because he’d felt sorry for me. I was sure I’d been a very ugly baby.
All the answers lay in Australia, another twelve hours’ journey from here. It was beyond weird that it was one country in the world I’d refused point-blank to visit, even though Star had quite fancied going. Pathetic that my spider nightmare was the reason, but there it was.
Well, I thought as I settled myself down on the sand, Pa had called me ‘strong’ and an ‘adventurer’. I knew I’d need every ounce of those qualities to get me onto that plane in two weeks’ time.
* * *
Again, I was woken by tickling across my face. I brushed the sand away and sat up to see the Werewolf walking to the sea. Wondering briefly how many maidens he’d eaten in the past few hours, I watched his long legs make short work of the sand.
He sat down at the water’s edge in the same position as last time, with me directly behind him. We both looked up, waiting for the show to begin, like we were in a cinema. A cinema of the universe . . . I liked that phrase, and felt proud of myself for thinking of it. Maybe Star could use it in her novel one day.
The show was spectacular, made even more epic by the fact that there were a few clouds around today, softening the rising sun as it seeped like a golden yolk into the whipped egg whites around it.
‘Hi,’ the Werewolf said to me as he was walking back.
‘Hi.’
‘Good one this morning, wasn’t it?’ he offered.
‘Yeah, great.’
‘Don’t think you’ll be sleeping out here tonight, mind you. We’re in for a storm.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed.
‘Well, see ya around.’ He gave me a wave and wandered off.
Back up on the terrace a few minutes later, I saw Jack was setting up breakfast. Nam normally did this, but she still hadn’t been seen since Christmas Eve.
‘Morning,’ I said.
‘Morning.’ He gave me a guilty look before he said, ‘Sleep well?’
‘Not bad, Jack.’ I beckoned him towards me and pointed to the retreating figure on the beach. ‘Do you know him?’
‘No, but I’ve seen him a coupla times on the beach late at night. Keeps himself to himself. Why?’
‘Just wondered. How long has he been here?’
‘I’d reckon at least a few weeks.’
‘Right. Is it okay if I go up and take a shower in your room?’
‘Sure. See ya later.’
Having showered, I sat on the floor in Jack’s room and sorted through my rucksack. I divided clean and dirty clothes – the dirty pile being the vast majority – and decided I’d drop them off at the laundry on my way to find a room. Then if the worst came to the worst and I ended up outside in a storm tonight, at least I’d have some clean, dry clothes for tomorrow.
Even though there was no such thing as Boxing Day in this part of the world, everyone wandered along the narrow alleyway of shacks that passed for shops, looking as they did in Europe: like they’d over-drunk, over-eaten and were fed up because they’d opened all their presents and the excitement had passed. Even the normally smiley laundry lady looked grim as she separated the darks from the whites and shook out my underwear for all to see.
‘Ready tomorrow.’ She handed me the ticket and I trudged out. Hearing a vague rumble of thunder in the distance, I began my hunt for a room.
I walked back onto the hotel veranda later, hot and sweaty and not having found anywhere that could offer me a room until tomorrow lunchtime. I sat drinking a coconut water and ruminating on whether I should move on – go to Ko Phi Phi perhaps, but there was no guarantee that I’d find anything there either. Well, one night out in the rain wouldn’t kill me, and if it got really bad, I could always shelter under one of the restaurant verandas.
‘Found a room yet?’ Jack asked hopefully as he passed me, carrying a tray of beer to the neighbouring table.
‘Yeah,’ I lied, not wanting to put him in a difficult position. ‘I’ll go upstairs and collect my rucksack after lunch.’
‘Don’t fancy giving me a hand behind the bar for a while, do you?’ he asked. ‘What with Nam going AWOL and the hotel full, I haven’t been able to get along to the rock. Abi’s just called to say they’ve got a queue as long as a python down there. And about as angry.’
‘I don’t mind, though I wouldn’t trust me carrying trays,’ I joked.
‘Any port in a storm, Cee. It’ll only be a couple of hours, I swear. Free beer and whatever you want to eat is on the house tonight. Come on, I’ll show you the ropes.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, and stood up to go with him behind the bar.
Four hours later, there was no sign of Jack and I’d had enough. The bar was heaving and there was a rush on juices – presumably sparked by people using vitamin C or Bloody Marys as a hangover cure. None of the drinks were as simple as just pinging the cap off a beer, and I’d ended up splattered with mango juice when the blender had exploded all over me because I hadn’t screwed the top on properly. The previous high spirits of the customers had disappeared overnight with the wrapping paper, and I was fed up with being shouted at for being slow. On top of that, I could hear the rumble of thunder getting closer, which meant that later, probably when me and my rucksack had to make camp on the beach, the heavens would open.
Jack arrived back eventually, full of apologies for being away for so long. He looked around the now almost empty veranda.
‘At least you haven’t been too busy. It was heaving down at the rock.’
Yeah, right . . . I didn’t say anything as I finished my noodles, then went upstairs to collect my rucksack.
‘Thanks, Cee. I’ll see ya around,’ he said as I arrived back downstairs, paid the bill for my room and trudged off.
I walked along the beach as a couple of lightning flashes appeared almost directly above me. I reckoned I had about five minutes before the downpour, so I upped my speed and turned right along an alleyway to a bar I knew, then saw that most of the shack-shops had closed up early because of the impending storm. The bar was also pulling down its shutters as I approached.
‘Great,’ I muttered as the owner gave me a curt nod, and I carried on. ‘This is totally crazy and ridiculous, CeCe,’ I groaned. ‘Just go back to Jack and tell him you’ll share his bed . . .’
Yet my legs propelled me forwards until I arrived at the beach on the other side of the peninsula. It was called Phra Nang and, aesthetically, it was even more beautiful than Railay. Because of this, it was a huge tourist spot for day-trippers, so I usually avoided it. Also, because the luxury Rayavadee Hotel backed onto it, there were scary security guards placed along its perimeter. Star and I had gone down there one night after the last long-tail boat had chugged off, and lain on our backs looking up at the stars. Five minutes later, a torch had been shone on our faces and we’d been told to leave. I tried to argue that all beaches in Thailand were public and the hotel security guards had no right to kick us off, but Star had shushed me as they’d manhandled us towards the path that led back to the plebs’ side of the peninsula.
That sort of thing burned in my soul, because the earth and its beauty had been created by nature to be enjoyed for free by everyone, not reserved for the rich.
As a streak of blue and purple lightning lit up the sky, I realised this wasn’t the moment to have a philosophical discussion with myself. Looking along the beach, I had a brainwave. The Cave of the Princess was at the far end of it, so I began to leg it across the sand. Two-thirds of the way along, huge drops of water began to fall on me. It felt like being pelted with small pieces of gravel.
I arrived at the entrance to the cave, staggered inside and threw my rucksack down. I looked up and remembered that for some reason there were actually two versions of the princess, both tiny doll-sized figures who nestled within small wooden temples, half hidden behind hundreds of assorted colourful garlands. On their altar, there were tea lights burning, which illuminated the inside of the cave with a comforting yellow glow.
I smiled to myself, recalling the first time that Star and I had visited the cave. Thinking it would be like any other Thai place of worship, we’d both expected a gold statue and the ubiquitous garland offerings. Instead, we’d been confronted by hundreds of phalluses of different shapes and sizes. I surveyed them now, poking upwards from the sandy floor of the cave like erotic stalagmites, and perched on the rocks all around. Red, green, blue, brown . . . small ones, big ones . . . Apparently, this particular deity was a goddess of fertility. And from the size of the instruments that crowded the cave – some of which towered above my own head – I wasn’t surprised.
However, tonight the Cave of the Princess was offering me sanctuary and I was out of the rain that was now streaming down like a curtain at the mouth of the cave. I stood up and walked through the selection of tributes, then knelt at the altar to say thank you. After that, I tucked myself into the side of the cave’s entrance and watched the storm.
The sky lit up in spectacular flashes as lightning raged over the sea and the jagged limestone pillars. The rain shone silver in the moonlight as it pounded onto the beach in sheets, as if God was crying buckets from up above.
Eventually, feeling wrung out by the spectacle and the sheer energy the universe possessed, I staggered upright. Moving me and my rucksack deeper into the cave, I laid out my bed for the night and fell asleep behind an enormous scarlet phallus.