originally came from Brazil at a totally extravagant price. Or who had paid for it when he wanted to show her off at the hotel swimming pool after a successful flute-playing lesson. She wrapped a batik sarong around her lower half and followed him to the restaurant.
They sat looking over the beach, savouring their chilli prawns and Tiger beer. Sherry knew what Tim was thinking – that this simple place lay close to paradise. He went crazy for tropical beaches and coconut palms. It had taken Sherry a little longer to learn to love them. At first she had been put off by the untidiness of it all, the driftwood and debris that lay thick on remote beaches, the rivers and beaches that looked steamy and muddy brown instead of cool and clear. Even coconut palms themselves had shaggy and disreputable crowns and she had disliked their untidiness. Still, the combination of jungle and beach grew on her. Now she too loved coconut palms, along with the smells, and the intense colours. Europe could offer nothing like this.
They had gone to Pulau Kelapa in mid-week, a quiet time for the island resort. The beach lay empty. A few Europeans had come to the island to dive, or perhaps just to drink and lounge. A quiet old Chinese couple sat at the bar, fully dressed and looking a little out of place.
Sherry watched a small group of Malay men, sitting at one of the tables. They had beer glasses in front of them. Perhaps they felt they were in a ‘foreign’ environment here and could drink without criticism. Or perhaps they belonged to the rich and educated classes and drank anyway. In their centre, a slim Malay man with mixed features held court, smiling and leading the discussion. He looked important.
A chatter of girls’ voices, and two young Indonesian women came into the restaurant. The other guests stared as they tapped up to the men’s table. They were twins, and very beautiful. Wrapped tightly in traditional and matching batik sarongs and short kebayas, they swayed as they walked. The men made space for them and welcomed them into the conversation.
After they had eaten, Sherry returned to their balcony to read, but Tim felt restless. He scrounged an old windsurfing board and a canoe paddle, and went off to visit the reef. Laying her book face down on the table, Sherry sat back and watched as he paddled to board out to the reef. He sat up to fit his mask and snorkel, then lay with his face in the sea. He could drift for hours over the reef. Tim never seemed to tire of watching the fish and the coral, just below in all their glory.
He returned in time to call Sherry for volleyball. Every evening the resort staff set up a volleyball game on the sand under the coconut palms, yielding places to the guests if they had to, but enjoying the game themselves whenever they could. They also enjoyed socializing with foreigners, especially attractive, glamorous blondes like Sherry. They cared for her, gave her easy passes and clapped when she scored. She knew she should feel scornful, but they were only trying to be kind. Beautiful girls in sexy bikinis have an obligation to be gracious.
They slept a little and went late to dinner. It felt very pleasant to eat well, drink a little and chat with other lazy people, all with the moonlight bathing the sea just over the beach. Tim was fading fast and wanted to return to their hut; Sherry decided she would walk alone on the beach for a while before turning in.
Sherry strolled at the water’s edge. The moon gave light enough to glaze the white coral sand, and the water felt warm over her toes. Every now and then she would start a beach crab that made a dash for the sea and safety. She reached the far end of the beach and looked back. The blackness of the jungle behind the beach was solid below its palm fringe. The restaurant made a beacon of bright orange light flaring onto the sea, but either side of it the huts sat in darkness. Beyond the restaurant, where Tim waited in their hut, the
They sat looking over the beach, savouring their chilli prawns and Tiger beer. Sherry knew what Tim was thinking – that this simple place lay close to paradise. He went crazy for tropical beaches and coconut palms. It had taken Sherry a little longer to learn to love them. At first she had been put off by the untidiness of it all, the driftwood and debris that lay thick on remote beaches, the rivers and beaches that looked steamy and muddy brown instead of cool and clear. Even coconut palms themselves had shaggy and disreputable crowns and she had disliked their untidiness. Still, the combination of jungle and beach grew on her. Now she too loved coconut palms, along with the smells, and the intense colours. Europe could offer nothing like this.
They had gone to Pulau Kelapa in mid-week, a quiet time for the island resort. The beach lay empty. A few Europeans had come to the island to dive, or perhaps just to drink and lounge. A quiet old Chinese couple sat at the bar, fully dressed and looking a little out of place.
Sherry watched a small group of Malay men, sitting at one of the tables. They had beer glasses in front of them. Perhaps they felt they were in a ‘foreign’ environment here and could drink without criticism. Or perhaps they belonged to the rich and educated classes and drank anyway. In their centre, a slim Malay man with mixed features held court, smiling and leading the discussion. He looked important.
A chatter of girls’ voices, and two young Indonesian women came into the restaurant. The other guests stared as they tapped up to the men’s table. They were twins, and very beautiful. Wrapped tightly in traditional and matching batik sarongs and short kebayas, they swayed as they walked. The men made space for them and welcomed them into the conversation.
After they had eaten, Sherry returned to their balcony to read, but Tim felt restless. He scrounged an old windsurfing board and a canoe paddle, and went off to visit the reef. Laying her book face down on the table, Sherry sat back and watched as he paddled to board out to the reef. He sat up to fit his mask and snorkel, then lay with his face in the sea. He could drift for hours over the reef. Tim never seemed to tire of watching the fish and the coral, just below in all their glory.
He returned in time to call Sherry for volleyball. Every evening the resort staff set up a volleyball game on the sand under the coconut palms, yielding places to the guests if they had to, but enjoying the game themselves whenever they could. They also enjoyed socializing with foreigners, especially attractive, glamorous blondes like Sherry. They cared for her, gave her easy passes and clapped when she scored. She knew she should feel scornful, but they were only trying to be kind. Beautiful girls in sexy bikinis have an obligation to be gracious.
They slept a little and went late to dinner. It felt very pleasant to eat well, drink a little and chat with other lazy people, all with the moonlight bathing the sea just over the beach. Tim was fading fast and wanted to return to their hut; Sherry decided she would walk alone on the beach for a while before turning in.
Sherry strolled at the water’s edge. The moon gave light enough to glaze the white coral sand, and the water felt warm over her toes. Every now and then she would start a beach crab that made a dash for the sea and safety. She reached the far end of the beach and looked back. The blackness of the jungle behind the beach was solid below its palm fringe. The restaurant made a beacon of bright orange light flaring onto the sea, but either side of it the huts sat in darkness. Beyond the restaurant, where Tim waited in their hut, the
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