Chapter 36
Bali
I ran my fingers through my hair, still damp from my shower. As promised, Ayu’s cousin had been here when we arrived. I was now in possession of a second-hand iPhone and Ayu had left with a hefty tip for being such a wonderful driver. As soon as both men had gone, I’d headed to my room.
Today had been a lot to deal with. It felt as if a cyclone had whirled through my life and turned everything upside down.
The conversation with my boss about the ‘restructuring’ would have been enough on its own to unsettle me, but the trip down memory lane and meeting Utt had ignited a restlessness in me that I didn’t know what to do with.
Being on our beach, swimming in the ocean where I’d first met Jackson and then learning from Utt that he’d been back to Bali not once, but multiple times – all this had propelled Jackson from being buried deep in my past to here in the present. My head was full of if-onlys and what-nexts.
Could Utt contact Jackson for me, and if so, did I want him to? I needed to organise my thoughts properly. If only I hadn’t lost Bronte’s book, I’d probably be journaling in it now. So my next job was to go into town and buy a new notebook. Ten minutes later, I left my room and headed out.
My new phone was in my bag, but I hadn’t yet set it up properly. I could make calls, I could surf the internet, but after logging into Facebook I’d stopped.
There was something liberating about being disconnected for a while.
I needed to stop scrolling and checking emails; and I did not want to be available should Anna decide to call me again.
I wanted to find some stillness, look inwards, and figure out what the hell I was going to do with the next year or two of my life.
The street my hotel was on was crammed with interesting places, from crystal and reiki healing to massage parlours and sound bath classes. Any of these would give me respite from my inner turmoil, but the time had come to face up to some things and stop escaping from them.
Because that was what I’d been doing ever since Bronte died. I’d thought that I was protecting myself by carrying on as if my world hadn’t shattered. In fact, I had done the opposite. I’d put myself, my heart, my life on ice, refusing to acknowledge that I faced a future without her in it.
I picked up a little notebook from a gift shop, found a table inside a highly Instagrammable café and ordered a fruit smoothie.
The café was full of lush greenery and had a spiral wooden staircase suspended by what looked like jungle vines.
The words Open up to the magic of life were written on the floor in marigold flowers.
The vibe was relaxed and peaceful and I couldn’t have picked a more zen location to pin down my whirling thoughts.
‘Terima kasih,’ I said to the waitress delivering my drink, hoping I’d got the translation for thank you right.
‘You’re welcome.’
As she walked away, I picked up my pen and turned to the first page in my new notebook.
I put the date in the right-hand margin, as I had at school, and after a hesitation wrote a heading: What do I want?
Where to start? I sipped my smoothie.
Don’t overthink, Maggie, write …
to love my life to love other people to be loved
I stared at what I had written. Goose pimples tickled my arms and tears pricked at my eyes as the message I’d written to myself stared back at me. I’d been starved of love, I knew I had; but in return I hadn’t given love to others either and I needed to change that.
I thought of Tiff. Now there was a woman who loved her life. She’d walked away from the things that didn’t make her happy and replaced them with things that did. That was oversimplifying, of course, and her new life had come with a price.
But you’ve already paid your price , said a small voice.
I put down my pen, blinked away my tears before they had a chance to fall, and let out a long breath.
‘Oh honey, that’s a big sigh,’ said a chirpy voice.
I swivelled round to see a woman with bright inquisitive eyes looking at me.
‘Sorry,’ I replied, feeling embarrassed at being caught at such a melancholy moment. ‘I didn’t mean to be so loud. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘Not at all.’ She held her hands up, sending many bangles jingling down her arms. She nodded to my open notebook. ‘You’re journaling, which is very sensible if you’re feeling a bit muddled. I’ll leave you in peace.’
‘Thank you.’ I returned her smile. ‘I think better when I have a pen in my hand.’
‘Although, I have to say, I am a very good listener. So …’
She left her sentence hanging and I bit back a smile. She had no intention of leaving me in peace at all.
‘I’m not really someone to unburden themselves to a stranger,’ I replied. ‘But thanks for the offer.’
She got up from her own table and joined me at mine, her bird-printed kaftan wafting as she moved.
‘I’m Lisa,’ she said, offering me her hand. ‘And you are?’
‘Maggie.’ I put my hand in hers and instead of shaking it, she squeezed it softly before turning it over and studying my palm.
‘Hmm,’ she said thoughtfully.
‘What is it?’ I retracted my hand.
‘Not entirely sure.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m still learning. Anyway, now we’re not strangers anymore, so I’m all ears.’
I puffed out my cheeks. ‘Where to begin?’
She glanced at the words on my page. ‘Maggie, honey, if you don’t mind me stating the obvious, whatever the question, it looks as if love is the answer.’
I closed the book, feeling self-conscious.
‘Whoops, sorry. I didn’t mean to look.’ She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. ‘Actually that’s not true. I’m incredibly nosy.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘I left the UK to go travelling, thinking it would solve all my problems. But all that’s happened is that the problems tagged along for the ride and now I’ve lost my map and I’m at a crossroads and don’t know which way to turn for the best. I could do the easy thing and go home, but if I did, I’d probably regret it later.
On top of that I think my job is being phased out and I’m being shunted sideways instead of upwards. ’
Lisa blinked. ‘You are in a pickle.’
‘That’s not all.’ I hesitated. ‘I’ve said a terrible thing to my mum.’ Despite our turbulent history, tears sprang to my eyes.
‘Oh, my love. Okay.’ Lisa sat up taller. ‘I know what you need.’
‘Is it alcohol? Because if so I agree.’ I glanced at my phone to see the time; a drink would go down nicely.
She gave a tinkly laugh. ‘No! My body is a temple. At least until I finish work.’
‘You work in Bali?’
She gave me a smug smile. ‘I do! Aren’t I lucky? I’m a freelance journalist officially, with one or two sidelines. It’s my dream job.’
‘Good for you,’ I said, meaning it. ‘I thought my dream promotion would be waiting for me when I got back to the UK, but it seems like fate has other plans, or at least my boss does.’
‘What’s for you won’t pass you by; I’m a firm believer in that.’ She wagged a finger.
‘So if it’s not alcohol, what is it I need?’
Lisa’s eyes sparkled. ‘I’ll do you a tarot card reading.’
‘Um.’ I gave her a look of surprise. ‘Thank you for the offer. I need practical thought processes, not psychic powers. No offence.’
‘Oh, none taken. It’s not for everyone. And I fully agree. The cards can’t predict the future, but they can help you to pay attention to what you already know.’
‘Sorry.’ I shook my head. ‘But it’s not my thing.’
Lisa pouted. ‘Drat. But could I do you a reading anyway? I’m still learning, and I need the practice.’ She saw me hesitate. ‘Go on. If you don’t believe in what the cards tell you then you can ignore them. I’d be very grateful, and I won’t charge.’
‘In that case, how could I refuse?’ I couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Yes! My first customer.’ She got to her feet and signalled to the waitress that we were ready to leave. ‘Come on, let’s go back to my apartment and see if we can’t get you over this crossroads.’
We paid our bills and I followed her out of the café. I seriously doubted my future would be solved on the turn of a card, but at this point what did I have to lose?