The Backpacking Housewife Page 9

  It reads: Thanks to Jules Perry and Jack Perry and the patrons of Driftwood Bar.

  And I realise that Jack and Jules have the same name.

  This information hits me like a brick and takes my breath away. I feel sick.

  I realise I’ve been flirting with him all day, giving him all kinds of signals that I was interested in him, thinking it was just a bit of innocent fun.

  And he had responded by coming onto me – when he was married!

  I suddenly feel like you do after a great night out of fun and dancing and drinking when the crazy alcohol-fuelled rush of excitement is over, and the nausea has set in and you think you might throw up. Jack the merman-sea-gypsy was taken. What a goddamn tragedy.

  I finish my drinks quickly. I’m drowning my sorrow in the best goddamn vodka martinis I’ve ever tasted. I really want to flee without drinking them but knock them back, knowing I have nothing other than a bottle of water back in my beach hut and I need the alcohol hit to deal with what’s just been revealed to me. The bar is suddenly incredibly busy and everyone is ordering food and drinks, keeping Jules busy mixing cocktails and Jack in the kitchen.

  I leave my tab on the bar and walk back down the beach feeling completely stupid.

  What on earth had I been thinking?

  Gazing into his eyes like a silly teenager. Flirting with him like a bitch on heat.

  Why didn’t I even think to question if he was married?

  Is this some kind of reverse karma in play?

  And what kind of woman does that make me?

  No. I would never ever want to steal another woman’s husband!

  Poor Jules. With a husband like Jack – so good-looking and flirtatious with other women – she’s probably seen it all a thousand times before. To think, when he’d laid his hands on me, he’d said it was the perk of his job. Bloody men!

  Two-timing no-good heartbreaking bastards!

  Jack and his two for one on the goddamn side.

  I return to my beach hut feeling foolish and jaded and angry all over again.

  The following morning, I wake completely soaked with sweat and wrapped up in my bedsheet. I’ve had the most horrible and scary nightmare about being deep down in the sea. So deep I could look up and just about see the rippling surface and hazy sunlight far above me. In the dream, I was diving with Jack, but he was pulling me down into the unfathomable black depths below, trying to drown me. I was trying to scream but no sound would come out of my mouth – only air bubbles. In desperation, I tried to claw at him with my fingers to loosen his grip, but he had lots of hands and lots of arms, each with tentacles like those of a giant octopus. My clawing was in vain and I floundered in the water, spinning and sinking deeper and deeper, with nothing left in my air tank.

  Gasping and choking for breath as I wake, it takes me a while to calm myself down and shake off my fears. I make myself a cup of strong coffee and gulp it down before taking a shower and heading down to the Dive Shack on shaky legs. I arrive a little earlier than planned but I need to speak to Carly. I want to tell her that I’ve changed my mind about having one-to-one tuition with Jack. That I now want to be part of her group for the camaraderie and support.

  Carly is absolutely fine about it. She introduces me to the others starting the Open Water course and sets us all up in the classroom to watch dive training videos and do quizzes called knowledge reviews. Most of the study at this stage is about dive safety and water depths and what effects water pressure and breathing compressed air has on the body.

  I feel daunted by all the study and struggle with the science behind it all.

  I know the standards are incredibly high in preparation for a tough online exam.

  Some of the others have their own laptops but as I don’t, I’m given one to use.

  There’s a lot more to learn than I ever imagined and there’s an unspoken pressure to progress at the same level and timeframe as the others, who are so much younger and who seem so much smarter than me. Only after passing the theory exam can we go onto pool training and only after that can we put everything we’ve learned into practice in the open sea.

  Carly says that most Open Water trainees complete the course in three to four days.

  I realise that I need to stay on Koh Lanta for a day longer than I’d originally planned.

  But that’s okay. Being a qualified scuba diver is a big tick off my bucket list.

  After a whole day in front of a computer screen, I drag myself back to my hut carrying a pile of manuals and homework. To reach my hut, I have to walk past Driftwood Bar.

  To my surprise, I see Jules waving to me as soon as she spots me coming up the beach.

  She looks a little agitated. I cringe but there’s no avoiding her.

  ‘Hey, Lori! What happened today? Jack said he was expecting to start a dive course with you this morning, but you’d gone and joined Carly’s group instead?’

  I look at her incredulously. Okay, I’d flirted with her husband and he’d flirted with me but that was as far as it had gone. What I do in my own time is really none of her goddamn business.

  ‘It’s no big deal. I just decided I’d be better off learning with a group, that’s all.’

  ‘So you weren’t unhappy with Jack?’ she demands to know.

  I can hardly comprehend the question. ‘Unhappy with him? What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s just, well, my brother was worried you might think he behaved unprofessionally towards you. Jack prides himself on being an absolute professional. He’s a really good dive instructor and—’

  ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘That Jack was worried he might have been inappropriate towards you yesterday. I know he really likes you, Lori, but he told me he thinks he may have overstepped some boundaries.’

  ‘I meant about what you said about him being your brother?’ I clarify.

  ‘Yes. That’s right. He’s my big brother – but you knew that, right?’

  ‘No. I thought you were his wife?’

  Jules’s hand flies to her mouth. ‘Oh my gosh. What on earth gave you that idea?’

  ‘Look, Jules. Tell Jack I’ll pop down for a drink later and we can talk about this, okay?’

  Jules nods. ‘I’ll tell him. He’ll be back soon. He’s had to take Hey Joe to the vets, or he’d have been here himself. He’s been waiting all day to talk to you, Lori.’

  ‘Oh no, what happened to Hey Joe?’

  ‘He slashed his paw on some coral washed up on the beach. That stuff is razor sharp.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll come over later. But I have to study first.’

  My mind is whirring. Jack and Jules are brother and sister?

  I take a shower and change into clean shorts and a vest and sit on my bed. I have so much work to do but I also know that I must take an hour out to see Jack. I have to explain why I changed my mind. He’s obviously upset at me joining Carly’s group without telling him. Although, I still think it was a good decision. The course is tough and Jack is a distraction.

  Everyone in Carly’s group is so supportive and we encourage each other. I know that when it gets to the Open Water training, it will be even more important to have that kind of camaraderie, and my lusting after Jack would not be conducive to me passing this course.

  Feeling exhausted, I close my eyes for a moment.

  What feels like seconds later, I’m woken by a tapping sound.

  My eyes spring open to find it’s pitch black in my room.

  I flick on the bedside light to see my dive manuals scattered all over the bed sheet.

  My first thought is that I’ve managed to miss happy hour and talking with Jack.

  Then there is that tapping sound again. It’s someone at the door.

  ‘Who’s there?’ I yell, feeling a little confused and disorientated.

  ‘Lori. It’s Jack.’

  I open the door to a cacophony of tree frogs and crickets and geckos, and to the sight of Jack standing on my porch looking anxious. �
�How’s Hey Joe?’

  ‘He’s okay. A few stitches but he’s revelling in all the attention it’s got him.’

  ‘Look … I want to apolo—’ we both say in unison.

  ‘Come in,’ I say, keen to shut out the noise and humidity and marauding mosquitoes.

  Jack follows me inside and closes the door. I’m left standing in the middle of the room under the ceiling fan with my arms crossed defensively. This feels really awkward and a little surreal.

  ‘I wanna apologise, Lori. I’m sure I’ve offended you. I came onto you yesterday and I shouldn’t have because it was unprofessional. I mean, it’s also kinda against the rules, too. So, when you changed your mind about me training you, I felt really bad. I felt terrible, actually.’

  ‘Jack, I changed my mind because I thought that you and Jules were husband and wife. I was a terrible flirt with you yesterday. Although, it’s not really like me to do that kind of thing and when I thought you had betrayed her by flirting back with me, I was horrified.’

  He rolls his beautiful eyes in confusion. ‘Oh Lori … she’s my sister. We own the bar together and I guess I sorta just assumed you knew. I’m sorry. I never thought to explain.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m glad I joined Carly’s class. They are a such a supportive group. I feel like I fit in and if I work really hard and focus then I know I can get my qualification. I can’t focus around you, Jack. I think we both realise that now.’

  He takes a step towards me, smiling softly and reaching out to take my hand.

  My breath quickens as he makes contact and pulls me towards him.

  ‘It’s a good decision. You’ll do well, Lori. You’re a natural in the water.’

  He leans in to kiss me and a moment later his warm soft and beautiful lips are on mine.

  I can feel my legs weakening and my whole body melts against his as both his arms come around me. His body is pressed against mine and his tongue slides inside my parted lips to flick against my tongue. My insides tremble. My erratic heart beat pounds in my chest and in my ears. I lean into him to increase the delicious pressure of our togetherness and I breathlessly kiss him back. Then, as his hands move up my body, moulding to my breasts, and his thumbs find my stiffened nipples through my vest, I gasp and arch my back.

  I throw my head back and moan with pleasure as we twirl together in a locked embrace across the room and towards the bed. The dive manuals hit the floor as we hit the mattress together. He kisses me even harder, bruising my mouth, nipping at my lower lip, grinding his hips into mine.

  Oh, he tastes so good – I’m getting a minty mix of mouthwash and vodka martini.

  He smells of sandalwood and citrus cologne.

  And, oh my goodness, his body is so hard and hot and wonderfully heavy on mine.

  I wrap my arms around him and pull myself towards him wantonly, lifting my hips against his, desperately wanting the fire ignited deep within me sated by him. He drives the fabulously hard and impressive bulge in his shorts against me at the same time as his tongue delves into my throat to show me how deeply he wants to take me.

  My mind is swimming and I’m lost and dizzy and senseless with lust.

  It’s only when his fingers turned their attention to the waist band of my shorts that I suddenly come out of my passion-fuelled state and start to question my sanity. In that same moment, I clamp my hands over his to stop him going any further.

  ‘No. Stop. I’m sorry Jack. This is as far as it goes. This is madness!’

  ‘Yeah, complete madness,’ he agrees, not really listening, as his fingers fight mine for possession of my panties.

  ‘Jack, I really like you. I do. But in three days I’m leaving here, and I’m probably never coming back, which means that I’ll never see you again.’

  ‘I understand, Lori…’ he says, his breath rasping and hot on my neck. ‘That’s exactly why we should value this short but precious time together.’

  ‘No. I don’t think you do understand, Jack. I’m sorry but I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do casual sex. I really don’t know how to be so free and easy.’

  He whispers into my ear. ‘Relax, babe, and let me show you…’

  And to me, that line sounds so crass and so sleazy, that my unbridled passion for him fizzles out like a wet squib. Jack might be the most good-looking and sexiest goddamn man alive, but I don’t want to relax and I don’t want to be shown how to be casual and easy by anyone.

  I’d rather be lonely than have meaningless sex.

  Don’t get me wrong. After all this time, I’m more than happy to have my libido back and to feel young and sexy and wanted again, but I’m certainly not just giving it all away to the first man who wants to love me and leave me.

  So, I ask Jack to leave without making a scene, and he does.

  After that night, I never see Jack again. For the next three days, I walk along the road rather than the beach to get to the Dive Shack, so I can avoid walking past Driftwood Bar. I go on to pass my theory exam with flying colours. Then, I spend two long and difficult days in the pool practising all my dive skills repeatedly and another day in the sea, proving I had all the skills to be a competent and responsible Open Water diver.

  Until finally and deservedly, I complete and pass my course and achieve my certificate.

  When I leave Koh Lanta, on the early morning long-tail boat for the next paradise island on my list and along this coastline, I’m not only a qualified diver, but also a wiser woman.

  I might still be in search of true happiness and purpose in my life, but I now know that no matter how pretty the package, those things are not going to be found in a man like Jack Perry.

  Chapter 7

  Koh Ngai

  Getting up so early over the past few mornings, staying up so late at night studying and working through the intense days of training to get my Open Water certificate, has really taken its toll on me. I’m physically and emotionally exhausted from my time on Koh Lanta.

  Consequentially, I intend to spend the next two days on a tiny and very beautiful little island called Koh Ngai, relaxing in a hammock with a book or lying stretched out on the beach deepening my tan before moving on to the other islands for the excellent scuba diving there.

  I’m pleased to report that my suntan is really coming along at last. I remember being so envious of Summer’s golden tan and, although I’m nowhere near as deeply tanned as she is yet, I’m making great progress. I know it’s not good for you to be tanned. Exposure to the sun dries out and ages your skin, but I can’t help but feel better when I’m sun kissed. The locals must think the Westerners lying stretched out on the beaches or by the pool in the full sun are completely crazy. I suppose we are because the sun is so intense here. It’s hard to gauge over-exposure and I do see people with badly-burned faces or with great red welts and white patches where yesterday’s swimsuit had covered the skin that today’s does not.

  Pale skin can burn in just minutes here, even with copious quantities of high factor sunscreen. I was in despair over my arms and legs turning into a horrible mottled mess. I even had a heat rash that, together with my mosquito bites, made it look like I had chicken-pox for a while. However, with the help of nightly slathering of coconut oil (a tip from Summer to soothe sunburnt and fly bitten-skin) and with the protection of a high factor sunscreen and a cover-up and a hat over the past week, my body is now the satisfying colour of a light gravy rather than a boiled lobster.

  Koh Ngai, my next destination, is not too far from Koh Lanta, so today I’m travelling by long-tail boat. I buy my ticket from a hut on the beach and wade into the water with my rucksack, with several other travellers who are heading the same way. For once, I’m actually looking forward to this boat ride. Going out on a dive boat and doing my dive training in the sea has given me a much greater confidence. In so many ways, being on Koh Lanta has been a positive and confidence-boosting experience for me and I’m grateful for lessons learned.

  It’s another perfect day. The sky is blue an
d cloudless. The wind is light and the temperature is scorching. We head out to sea and the scenery all around is breathtaking. We pass close to and in between some of the most spectacular limestone rock formations along this part of the seaboard. Some of them are massive rounded mounds in the sea, that have been worn completely smooth by the monsoon winds and rains, so they look like giant cupcakes topped with rich green icing. Others are incredibly imposing and rise up like tall chimney stacks. Many might have started out this way but over countless years have been worn away at the base by the strong tides and now look like top heavy ice cream cones with verdant sprinkles. My favourites are the ones that look like tribal heads complete with happy smiling faces and protruding noses and ears, with dreadlocks of hanging vines. Or perhaps the ones that look like animals or birds – I kid you not. You only need to look at Koh Kai (also known as Chicken Island) to know why it was so named.

  Our boat driver, who is a skinny old barefoot man with the crinkled skin of an old brown snake, is standing at the helm with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He’s steering the long-tail prop with one bent leg while balancing on his standing leg. He yells to us and points a bony finger to a tiny and derelict long-deserted stick hut that is balanced precariously on a rock on one of these barren and uninhabited outcrops that we are passing by.

  ‘Look. It’s your hotel!’ he shouts, gleefully cracking himself up over his joke.

  After less than an hour, we reach the beach on Koh Ngai and everyone grabs their backpacks and scrambles overboard into the shallow warm and clear turquoise water, eager to get their toes in the sand and to secure some accommodation on the island.

  The photos in my guidebook do no justice to Koh Ngai. The place is idyllic.

  I see the interior is a steep dense jungle all the way down to the beaches. I’m told there’s sketchy wi-fi here, but no villages, no towns, no convenience stores, no ATMs, no roads or motorised vehicles. It’s a quiet island and there aren’t any wild parties.