Chapter 35 #2
I thanked my new friend, picked up my things and followed the path along the edge of the beach.
I passed a dive and surf school where a charming young man tried to sell me a course of lessons.
So charming, in fact, that I almost signed up.
I laughed at my own behaviour as I continued on my way.
I blamed Jono for my sexual renaissance; I never used to be all fluttery in the presence of an attractive man.
Far, far too young for me, I scolded myself, but I definitely had a type: the similarity to Jackson was irrefutable.
A couple of minutes later I walked through a set of gates and was greeted by a giant sculpture of a sea turtle. Tourists milled around while children climbed on the turtle’s back to have their pictures taken.
‘Wow!’ I took my sunglasses off for a better look around.
Behind the entrance was a low, whitewashed building with open sides, a proper concrete floor and tiled pools for the turtles.
It was very smart; a million miles away from the ramshackle place I’d volunteered at.
A young woman in staff uniform greeted me. ‘Welcome to the turtle conservation and education centre!’ She ushered me to a kiosk. ‘Please buy your ticket and enjoy your visit.’
I paid my entry fee and wandered around, looking at the pools of sea turtles and reading the information boards.
The only activity on offer when I was last here was to collect the eggs from the beach and release them back into the ocean safely.
Now they did dive trips, they’d constructed underwater feeding areas out in the wild, and they ran an emergency rescue service for injured turtles.
The new hatchery was a sophisticated construction: a solid concrete base enclosed with mesh fencing to protect the unhatched eggs from inquisitive fingers.
The piles of sand covering the eggs were the same as last time, and there were still flags poking out of the sand with details of the eggs buried below.
I smiled to myself, recalling the lanky volunteer who’d arrived late to our induction and proceeded to smash the perimeter of the wooden sandpit – and Utt, ordering us all out, angry with us for laughing.
I was still smiling when one of the guides approached me.
‘We will be releasing new hatchlings this evening, if you want to help?’ he said. ‘All we ask is a donation to our centre.’
‘I would love to,’ I replied. ‘But I’ll be back in my hotel in Ubud by tonight.’
‘Ah, that is sad. It is a wonderful experience to see the little turtles go into the waves for the first time.’
‘It is,’ I agreed. ‘I did it when I came here twenty-four years ago.’
‘Oh wow.’ The guide’s eyes widened. ‘I was not even born then.’
‘I was very young,’ I said, touchily. ‘The turtle conservation project was tiny then. And it was further along the beach.’
‘You were volunteer?’ he said, looking interested. ‘At the first turtle project?’
‘I was.’ I sighed happily. ‘Best summer of my life.’
‘My grandfather was here all those years ago too. He was the boss of the volunteers.’
My breath caught. ‘Your grandfather isn’t called Utt is he, by any chance?’
‘Yes!’ he nodded excitedly. ‘That is him. I am also Utt, named after him. You knew my grandfather!’
My jaw dropped. ‘I did! That’s incredible! Is he still alive?’
The young man threw his head back and laughed. One of his colleagues shouted across to find out what was going on and young Utt answered back in Indonesian. Other staff came to join us and they laughed too.
‘What is it? What’s so funny?’
‘Oh yes,’ he said finally. ‘He is very alive. He still works at the centre.’
At once, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. I gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Utt – he’s still here?’
‘Of course,’ said his grandson. ‘This is his home. Why would he leave?’
‘Please can you take me to him? I’d love to say hello, if he remembers me after all these years.’
He looked sceptical. ‘There were lots of volunteers and he didn’t like them very much.’
‘It’s definitely the right Utt. But I’d like to say hi anyway, my name is—’
‘Miss Margaret,’ said a gruff voice from behind. ‘Welcome back to Bali.’
I spun around with a gasp. And there was Utt, standing right behind me, a big smile on his face, with a small sleeping baby in the crook of his arm. He’d hardly changed at all; a few more silver hairs maybe and less teeth. But still recognisable as the man I’d known all those years ago.
‘Utt!’ I exclaimed, taking his hand. ‘It’s Maggie, short for Magnolia rather than Margaret, but I’m delighted that you remember me. I can’t believe it! It’s so good to see you.’
‘Magnolia? Ah, I see.’ Utt shook his head. ‘Of course I remember you. How could I forget two love birds like you and Mr Jackson.’
He called over to one of the other members of staff, who came and took the baby from him.
‘We were love birds, weren’t we?’ My heart lurched at the men-tion of Jackson. Utt was the only other person I knew in the world who’d met him too. I wanted to stay in this moment and talk about him, reminisce about my month-long love affair with him.
‘Always volunteering for the night shift so you could be alone in the dark together. Utt knew what you were doing.’ He wagged a finger.
I felt myself blushing. ‘Oh stop … Don’t embarrass me in front of your grandson.’
‘No, no. Love is good, it’s good.’ Utt put a hand on his grandson’s shoulder. ‘I always knew this lady would come back to see us. She was so pale and serious when she arrived in Bali, but when she was here, she blossomed like a lotus flower, full of life and love.’
I felt my eyes sting with tears, amazed that he had noticed that about me. ‘I’m only sorry that it took me so long to come back.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said softly. ‘The universe only shows you the right path when you are ready to follow it.’
His wise words touch my heart. ‘Thank you.’
He bowed his head. ‘You are welcome. I told Jackson the same thing when he returned.’
‘You’ve seen him again since that summer?’ I froze, every nerve in my body suddenly alert. ‘He’s been back too?’
I was taken aback. Jackson was an American. Bali had been simply one stop of his summer of travelling.
‘Oh yes, Miss Maggie.’ His eyes looked deep into mine. ‘For him Bali is home.’
Home.
Less than an hour ago when I’d inhaled the smell of the incense, I’d felt the same. There was something about this place that got under your skin. Of course Jackson would have come back. He had always said he belonged by the water. He’d loved it here even more than me.
Waves of regret washed over me. If only, if only … Maybe if I’d brought Bronte here, as she’d asked me to, our visit might have coincided with his and he’d have met his wonderful daughter. Deep down, I knew how unlikely that would be, but things like this did happen. You read about it all the time.
‘Was he … was he well and happy when you saw him?’ I swallowed, my mouth suddenly bone dry.
Did Utt know where Jackson lived now? Did I want to find him?
It would mean telling him that he’d had the most beautiful daughter, who’d made me proud every single day – but that now she was gone.
What if he was married, settled, happy? What would this new knowledge do to him? Maybe it would make his life worse.
Seeing him again might make my life worse too, and that scared me. Right now I held the memories of our time together in a perfect golden light. Maybe my imagination had run wilder and wilder over the years and there hadn’t really been anything special after all in what we’d had. Maybe.
I’d never been able to forget the time we’d spent together because Bronte had been the result of it.
But he might have completely forgotten the girl he had a holiday romance with many moons ago.
The prospect of dimming the happy memory I had of him felt too risky, and I’d given up being risky a long time ago.
‘He has lived a full life,’ Utt replied, ‘and a full life brings with it many chapters, some happy, some not so happy.’
I nodded. ‘I can sympathise with that.’
‘Are you with family, friends, husband?’ he asked.
‘I never married,’ I told him. ‘I’m here alone, I’ve been travelling since the beginning of the year.’
‘No husband?’ Utt looked surprised.
‘Never been tempted,’ I said with a shrug. ‘But my life has been good on the whole.’
He had his hand on my shoulder and gently led me towards the exit. ‘I am glad. How long are you in Bali?’
‘I’m not sure. But I’m not ready to leave yet.’
‘Then come back again, Magnolia.’ He gave a bow to say goodbye.
I hesitated, wanting to press him for more information about Jackson, but Utt seemed keen for me to leave.
‘I will,’ I said, touching his arm gently. ‘Goodbye.’
There was a taxi parked outside. Ayu was leaning up against it and we waved at each other. I didn’t know how he’d found me but my legs were shaky and I was glad he had.
‘What’s up, Utt!’ Ayu shouted.
The two men exchanged greetings in Indonesian while I got into the car.
‘Don’t tell me,’ I laughed, doing up my seat belt. ‘Utt is your cousin, right?’
‘No, no, no,’ Ayu cried. ‘Utt is too old. He is my mother’s cousin.’
Silly me , I thought, hiding my smile.
‘But I have good news, about my cousin, Miss Maggie. The one with the phone shop. He has a beautiful phone for you, and he will be waiting for you at your hotel.’
‘That is good news, Ayu. Thank you. Can you drive me back there now, please?’
I leaned my head back against the head rest and closed my eyes.
I was exhausted. My past and my present had collided in the most extraordinary way today.
I mulled over what Utt had said about the universe only showing you the right path when you were ready to follow it.
I’d waited a long time to revisit this beautiful country and I had a feeling that I was ready for the universe to show me what it had in store for me next.