‘Should we help Wayan with lunch?’ I asked Ketut. ‘Or has she made it already?’

‘Oh man, I’m sorry. No food till tomorrow either.’

On the upside, Sal was there, too. And sex, like food, alcohol and drugs, was verboten, so Ryan wouldn’t be hiding her away in one of the bedrooms for the day.

Since Ryan and I are both prone to cabin fever, we sampled different locations around Wayan’s house, peeking out windows when we could get away with it. The day was sunny with a good breeze, and it seemed a waste not to be surfing.

‘What are we doing here?’ Ryan asked, as we lay on our backs in the bathroom. This room was part of the house so we were playing by the rules, but the lack of a roof allowed us to gaze up at the sky.

‘You heard what Ketut said. We’d have to stay indoors even if we were at our own place.’

‘I mean Bali. What are we doing in Bali?’

Ryan’s black periods never last long, and his moodiness doesn’t normally bother me too much. But since I had an empty stomach and nowhere to run, I had limited patience. ‘Try to enjoy life, Ryan. Give it a shot.’

He turned his head towards me. ‘That’s all we do, enjoy ourselves. Get stoned and surf, junk up paradise. It’s not ours, man, none of this.’

Again with the misery, the guilt. ‘We’re running a restaurant, and people love it. And we’re not junking up anything. We’re living, Ryan, and you’re turning what could be the most incredible life into a goddamn endless whinge.’

His discontent troubled me, not because I was concerned for his peace of mind – like I said, he can be a bit Eeyore – but because having Ryan here was part of my Bali experience. Without Ryan, there was no Sal. And while I wouldn’t say it out loud, I didn’t want to be here without her.

Wayan walked into the bathroom through the batik curtains that served as a door, regarding us with her usual irritation. She began tearing leaves from a large plant growing in a pot in the corner, to weave into one of her daily offerings boxes.

‘Too much talking,’ she said. ‘Time for thinking.’

‘Too much thinking in our quarter, Wayan. Anything different today?’ I sat up and pointed at the leaves.

‘Same but more.’

Wayan’s offerings consistently included cut fruit, uncooked rice, betel nuts, flowers and incense, all of which struck me as reasonable gifts, but on occasion she also included Camel cigarettes.

‘More cigarettes?’ I asked. Once she left the room I’d nick one.

‘Good for demons,’ she said. ‘Keeps them happy.’

‘Hear that, Ryan? Need to keep your demons happy. Fed and fagged.’

I shouldn’t have joked around with his dissatisfaction. He was more serious than I’d known. And I actually believe you need to pay attention to demons.

‘No, no.’ Petey is shouting at Abby as she holds him around the belly and pulls him off another child. The other boy has thrown himself on top of a yellow metal tip truck and is hugging it. Abby hauls Petey over to me and drops him on the bench by my side.