Chapter 6
SIX
I keep my eye on the land in the hope that I’ll catch sight of Sendilen bringing the others to the yacht, but we’re already moving away from the shore. Does this mean that they’re not coming? Will it just be me, a warring couple, a reclusive rock star and his seen-it-all drummer?
I wonder whether I’m being kidnapped without even realising it.
This seems like a good moment to tell myself not to get worked up unnecessarily.
And for once, I listen. I spend five minutes wondering whether I will look an idiot if I put on a bikini and sarong, before spending a few more worrying that I will look a total idiot if I don’t.
I plump for the former and head off to explore.
It turns out that the ship was fairly busy when we arrived, but it’s truly dead now.
I feel like I’ve been called here to haunt it.
I keep hoping that I’ll bump into Shabeer, or Sasha will emerge from her suite, but I don’t even see the girl with the wine again.
I sit beside the jacuzzi and wave up at the captain to remind myself that I’m not totally alone in the world.
The quiet of this immense vessel, as we glide across the Indian Ocean, is oddly unnerving. Even the warm breeze sends a chill through me, and I may be the first person in history to have goosebumps in twenty-eight-degree heat.
After a while, I go back to the main lounge and try to work out how to turn on the TV wall.
I’ve honestly seen smaller screens in sports stadiums. It kind of surprises me that the channel that comes on is for kids.
Fred Flintstone’s head is the size of a fridge, but I don’t care. I just can’t stand the silence anymore.
The sound of canned laughter and things breaking provides exactly what I need. Perhaps if people did this to calm themselves down in horror films and indie dramas filled with existential dread, those stories would turn out a lot better for everyone involved.
The Flintstones’ pet dinosaur bites his master’s hand, which makes Fred jump into the air and sort of hang there for a few seconds as his toes wiggle in pain.
I know how he feels, suspended like that, but then I click the button about fifty times until I find a music channel, and Ade is there with me at last. His face fills the screen, and he looks me dead in the eyes with all the soulful understanding he ever had when we were friends.
It’s only when I hear the repeated thwack of a helicopter blade growing slowly louder that I pull away from the comforting glow of the billion-pixel screen.
Tom and Sasha hear it too and get there before me, but I reach the back of the ship just in time to see the small black aircraft coming in to land.
Just like Fred in the cartoon, it hovers in the air over its landing point for a few seconds and then drops straight down.
I can see Sendilen sitting beside the pilot in the cockpit, so I guess his duties extend to more than just driving, but I won’t be able to ask him because he stays on board.
The rotors keep spinning, and the doors at the side of the helicopter open.
A bag flies out before I see anyone, then Jake jumps down, making sure to protect his head as he does so.
I’ve been trying not to think too much about my ex-boyfriend, but there’s no longer any way to avoid it.
He hasn’t changed. He still wears a black leather jacket, just like when we dated.
Still has that shifting glance, as though he wants to check that no one’s watching him, and he’s still kind of adorable.
I feel a sting inside me as he looks back at the helicopter and helps the other guests down.
I try to ignore what might have caused it.
I know who I’m expecting next, but she’s not there. Of the seven of us who used to live together, only six of us are here, and Dawn isn’t one of them. She was our unifying force – the popular, positive heart of the group – and it feels instantly wrong to be here without her.
In her place are our ex-flatmate Clara (who I’ve felt guilty about not getting in touch with for approximately the last eleven years) and a shy, chubby-cheeked guy I barely remember.
I think he was a drama student with Sasha, and his name was…
Adam, maybe? I have no idea why he’s here instead of Dawn.
“Jake, you old tosser!” Tom says, because this is the kind of thing that Tom says. He rushes past me, shoulder-barging his wife out of the way as he goes.
“All right, Tom.” Jake is understated and in control even as the man-child darts towards him.
Tom is not. He picks up his old flatmate and spins him around like they’re lovers reunited after a war. Even this doesn’t faze Jake. He looks askance as he waits to be put back down. His failure to enjoy this spectacle does not sit well with Tom, who immediately moves off to the next newcomer.
“Clara, it’s great to see you.” Something about the way he talks is off.
I don’t know if it’s the drink that is coursing through him or something more, but he’s enthusiastic to an artificial degree.
He rushes off to the final member of the group, who looks serious as he untangles the strap on his bag.
“And Alan!”
“It’s Ryan,” he corrects him. “My name’s Ryan.”
“That’s right, Ryan.” Tom acts as if the guy had misheard and then stands there looking uncertain as to what more he can possibly say. “You’re here too.”
This uncomfortable scene is interrupted by the sound of the helicopter taking off again. Sendilen offers a wave through the window. I bet he’s glad to get away from us. He must be used to spoilt individuals in his line of work, but Tom is something else.
When the noise dies down, there’s a sense of uncertainty in the group. There are pieces missing, and we don’t know how to act without them. Ade and Dawn would have made this feel okay, but there’s no one here to tell us what comes next.
To break the stalemate, I run over to Clara and smother her in a hug.
“It’s nice to be here.” She’s so shy that she blushes, but I think she’s pleased to see me.
“All right, Bridge?” Jake has waited his turn, and we stand in front of one another, unsure whether to hug or shake hands or kiss each other’s cheeks.
“Hello, old friend.” There are more awkward responses I could have fashioned, but not many.
He grins back at me all the same. His brown eyes are lighter than I remember, with flecks of orange and hazel. Up close with him for the first time in forever, I’m surprised by just how much the reunion affects me. My body’s become stiff, and I instantly regret being so standoffish.
After waiting so long, it’s a relief when I hear a noise on the deck above us, and there’s the man we’ve come to see.
“Look at you all,” Ade shouts down, and his frighteningly handsome face is only enhanced by his whitened smile.
Just as suddenly as he popped up there, he points over his shoulder and disappears from view.
It occurs to me that this scene has been stage-managed.
Ade was only standing on that balcony for effect – the helicopter was only deployed for effect.
His cabin is on this level, and I doubt he had any reason to go upstairs except for the impression it would make.
He was saying, Now that everyone’s here, I will honour you with my presence.
Sasha is chatting to Ryan. She’s the only one of us who knew him particularly well, though now that I think about it, I can remember him leading a pack of unshakable groupies that Ade’s band picked up before they were famous.
“Of course, I was always very lucky when I was acting because of my unplaceable ethnic identity,” Sasha explains, pointing to her naturally tanned colouring on the off-chance we hadn’t noticed it.
“I could play everything from Arabic to Italian, and I was told that casting directors adored such flexibility.”
“Good for you,” Ryan mumbles, and it’s clear that he feels even more out of place here than the rest of us.
“I’d forgotten that.” Tom wears a pensive look, and I can tell from his tone that he’s about to say something irritating. “You were the token non-white person in a bunch of things, even though you’re actually white.”
Sasha has no time for a withering look or even a tut, as our host now appears.
Ade glides around the corner, and I imagine that, in his head, he’s walking out to a crowd of thousands.
He somehow looks cooler than I’ve ever seen him.
His dreadlocks are short and dyed in a scale from blonde to bronze.
They’re swept forward on top and shaved close at the sides.
The artificially light colour makes his blemishless skin all the blacker.
“Look at you all,” he says again, and I get the feeling he took a long time planning his opening line and wants to make the most of it. “You’re beautiful.”
It would be easy to roll my eyes and call him a flatterer, but he speaks with such sincerity that a wave of gratitude sweeps over us, and we all smile back because the man who was once voted GQ magazine’s man of the year just said that we are beautiful.
Tom is suddenly on his best behaviour. “Mate, it is so kind of you to invite us here.” He extends his hand formally before Ade takes it in both of his.
“This is amazing.” Sasha looks around the ship as she awaits his attention.
The rest of us are more restrained, but I can see that even cool-as-Pepsi Jake is anticipating his moment. This is our reunion. It’s all we’ve been thinking about for the ten days since the letters arrived. It’s all we’ve been thinking about for the last ten years.
“It is my pleasure.” Ade is grinning so much that his sparkling teeth are still on display. Has he had work done on them? I’m pretty sure they were never that white or straight before. “It’s just so incredible to see you all. I can’t believe you came.”
“Get over here, you.” Sounding like a grandma, I pull him in for a hug.
The last time I saw Ade, he was an about-to-be.
Now he’s a genuine rock star. I don’t know if it’s a filter that I apply when looking at famous people, but there’s a magic about him that you don’t often encounter.
His eyes are brighter than anyone else’s.
His skin is smoother. He’s almost unbearably perfect.
It’s not just the way he looks. His cologne is as fresh as the ocean, and his muscles feel impossibly firm as he hugs me back.
It reminds me that there was always something just a little bit dangerous about him.
It wasn’t as if he was cruel, but it was impossible to say what he was thinking.
I never quite knew what was going on behind the mask.
“Thank you, Bridget,” he whispers in my ear. “Thank you for coming.”
For years after our last meeting, I felt nothing but anger towards the great Adesina Okojie, but seeing him now makes me feel like I’m home again after a lifetime spent away.
We pull apart and, even though he’s standing right in front of me, I miss him more than I ever have before.
I can already tell that, when this trip is over, his absence will be intolerable.
Jake’s still cagey. He’s barely said anything since he arrived, and when his turn comes to shower our guru with attention, he doesn’t quite deliver.
“It’s good to be here,” he says in his typically rough, ironic tone, as though he’s embarrassed to express even this limited emotion.
I notice that he doesn’t say, It’s great to see you. In fact, he can’t bring himself to look at the man who has paid for all this, and Ade might have seen it too if it weren’t for the fact that he keeps looking over at Ryan, who stands back from the action, out of the circle a step or two.
“Hi Ade,” the outsider says, and the two exchange a nod and a brief handshake.
I have no idea why this is happening. Ade knows the guy well enough to invite him to sail off into the sunset with us but is acting like they’ve never met before.
“Are you going to tell us what we’re doing here now?” Tom’s directness almost makes me like him. I’m sure it won’t last.
Ade is holding Clara by the shoulder and looking at her like she’s the prize at the end of a quiz show.
When he comes back to us, he tries to distract Tom by pointing to Phoebe, who has returned with a bottle and a tray of wine glasses.
His knowing gesture makes me wonder whether Ade’s done his research on what each of us is up to these days:
Tom is a drunk.
Jake has been frozen in time since the last day of our final term.
I have no life…
You get the idea.
“We’re going to get reacquainted,” he announces, still grinning, still apparently overwhelmed at seeing everyone again, “and it’s going to be incredible.”