Chapters (46)
‘Maybe not, but it’s blooming confusing,’ I admit. ‘But I know with absolute certainty that I really don’t want to break up my marriage for a man who doesn’t own a hairbrush and thinks it’s acceptable to wear sandals and socks. I don’t want to break it up for anyone. I just … want to feel alive again.’
‘We are all individuals!’ says Mike. ‘We just have to remember who we actually are! I’m not just a widower, you’re not just a mum. You’re not just a …’
‘Super cool human with amazing fashion sense and a banging body?’ completes Zaza, leaning over to him with a massive grin on her face.
‘Exactly, you’re not just that,’ I laugh. ‘I don’t know if this makes any sense at all. Walking just makes you think, and sometimes it’s about the things you anticipate thinking about and other times it’s total curveballs.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Zaza nods, her face becoming more serious. ‘Before coming here I certainly had a murky attitude towards the future. Now I want to pick up bridal magazines and smooch Liam’s face off when we land back home.’
‘You do?’ I ask, surprised and happy for her all at once.
‘Yeah. I really do!’ she sings. ‘I can’t wait to speak to him when we get sodding signal.’
‘So, Pia’s left behind three humans who were all feeling a little lost,’ concludes Mike. ‘She nudged us to go on an adventure together so we can feel less lost … and in some ways we have done that, but we’ve also found that being lost is OK?’
‘I dunno …’ I admit. ‘I hope to feel a little more unlost before we leave.’
‘What can we do to help?’ squeezes Zaza.
‘We’re here for whatever you need,’ adds Mike.
‘Guys, I didn’t want to interrupt …’ Scott calls, doing just that.
‘Morning,’ Zaza calls out.
‘You sound happy.’
‘Yep!’
‘How are you feeling, Vicky?’
‘Much better,’ I say, smiling with relief.
‘She’s got nothing left in her, that’s why.’
‘Oi!’ I say, my elbow finding her ribs, realizing that even though I tell Barnaby and Chloe off for their poo jokes they’ll never stop being funny.
Scott laughs. ‘There’s warm water for you all to wash in out here and some coca tea,’ he calls. ‘Breakfast won’t be long.’
‘Thank you!’
‘I guess we’d better get cracking then,’ I say. ‘Thanks, guys,’ I say, aware that the things that have been holding me inside what has felt like an isolating, lonely prison, suddenly seem much more bearable now I’ve spoken about them.
