“Yeah. I knew he liked me, I just couldn’t figure out why he was being such an arsehole about it, but now I know he had a fucked up childhood, so that explains a lot. It looks like we’ve got more in common than I thought.” Her lips twitch into a tight, self-satisfied smile and she reaches for my hand. “Shall we go and find Al?”

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

“I’m sorry, guys. I’ve made up my mind.” Al puffs on her cigarette, throws it on the ground, and then lights another. It’s the fourth one she’s had since dinner.

The sky is a black blanket, it’s spitting with rain and we’re sheltering under one of the mango trees in the orchard at the bottom of the garden. The house shines like a beacon in the distance – the kitchen is bright with the light of electric lamps, while the study and meditation room glow with the warmer, dimmer light of dozens of candles. The firepit on the patio crackles and sparks, illuminating Isaac and Johan. Their silhouettes are tipped together, as though deep in conversation. The garden is silent apart from the rushing of the river, the chirps of the cicadas and Al sucking on her cigarette.

We didn’t have to look far to find her. She was sitting in one of the massage huts with Johan, puffing on a joint. We heard her laughter as we walked along the bank of the river. It faded as she spotted us, and she barely said a word over dinner.

“But you can’t leave.” There’s a whiny tone to Leanne’s voice, whiny and desperate. She’s wrapped in a Nepalese yak’s wool blanket. Every time she waves her arms around to illustrate her point, the smell of damp dog drifts towards me. “We’ve only just got here.”

“If this has got anything to do with what I said earlier about Isis and what she said about your brother,” I say, “I’m sorry. What I said was thoughtless and tactless. I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear.”

Al waves away my apology with a flick of her hand. The burning tip of her cigarette dances through the air. “Don’t worry about it, Emma.”

“Seriously, I feel really—”

“Let’s not talk about it.” She fixes me with a look. “Okay?”

“It’s going to tip down later,” Daisy says, her gaze still fixed on the patio. “You heard what Johan said.”

Al leans back against the mango tree and sparks her lighter, lighting another cigarette. The flame illuminates the deep graze on her knuckles. She punched the wall in the girls’ dorm with a lot more force than I realised.

“Johan says a lot of things,” Al says.

“I thought you liked him.” Daisy sounds indignant.

“I do, he’s a decent bloke, but that doesn’t change anything. I’m still going.”