This Way to Paradise (14 page)

‘No way. I don't want to see Robin again — '

‘He feels bad about what happened, you know,' Kate interrupted. ‘He told Tom. I think it was the booze and, you know Robin, he's not a bad guy underneath —'

‘I don't care. I still don't want to see him. I don't think we could go back to being friends.'

Kate shrugged. ‘Maybe not, but cut him some slack, like, he said you were putting out signals —'

‘I
so
was not! How could he even say that? And how could
you believe him? You knew I didn't fancy him.'

For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence in the room and we both turned away from each other. I felt mad with Kate for taking Robin's side.

‘And, anyway, you shouldn't be seeing those guys,' I said.‘I bet your mum wouldn't like it, if she knew you still were.'

‘Well, actually, for your information, Tom wrote a note to Mum apologising and saying it wouldn't happen again, so there.'

‘Really?'

Kate nodded. ‘Yeah and you know how desperate Mum is to get in with his mum and dad. Mum said I could see him as long as I don't stay out too late. I would have filled you in, if you hadn't had your head stuck in the clouds for the last few days.'

This struck me as quite funny. ‘Well, we are on Cloud Nine,' I said.

Kate didn't laugh. ‘I've got to hang out with someone and you're not exactly available any more. Come out with us.'

‘I don't want to. I don't want to see Robin. I've got nothing to say to him. And, anyway, your mum might have chilled out, but my mum's still cross with me and, don't forget, it was me who got the full force from Aunt Sarah after that night on the beach. She'd calmed down a bit when you finally crawled out of bed.'

‘Like you're going to let me forget! Oh, don't let's be cross with each other, Indie J, please. And, believe it or not, I am concerned about you – that you're having a good holiday here.
I mean, I appreciate that, yes, we do have to do something to kill the time, but why not paint or learn to dance? Get in touch with your inner wombat or something. Anything but join the holier than thou brigade.'

‘I won't. I haven't. And they're not holier than thou. They talk a lot of sense. As I said, I'm just checking it all out.'

It was four days since I'd first seen the meditation instructor down on the beach. His name was Sensei – which means teacher – and he'd flown in the night before the first meeting down on the beach. I'd seen the posters advertising his arrival around the centre but hadn't taken much notice of them because I wasn't interested at the time. Now that I was, Liam told me all about him. Since that first encounter, I'd been every day to listen to him talk and, the more I'd heard, the more I liked what he had to say. He was about the same age as my father, but about as opposite to my dad as you could ever meet. He radiated serenity whereas Dad exuded chaos. I'd sneaked a peak into Sensei's room one day – Liam had shown me, and it was amazing. Even his room had an aura of peace. A few simple things. The lingering scent of sandalwood joss stick. Dad was like Kate, leaving a trail of stuff wherever he went as a clear demonstration that he had passed through.

‘OK, so you're checking it out. What have you discovered then?' Kate insisted.

‘Oh . . . it's hard to describe . . .' I started, though I wished I'd kept my mouth shut about it to her. While it made sense when
I was with Liam or listening to Sensei, I couldn't articulate what I felt to her. All I knew was that I'd found something I wanted to learn how to do. And people I wanted to be like. Through meditation, I was going to become the new me. Serene me. At peace with the world.

Erin was also dubious about my ‘initiation' when I got through to her during her break on my mobile an hour later. It was almost time for the session and I was feeling excited but also a tad anxious, which is why I wanted to speak to her rather than text. Liam kept telling me that the first proper meditation could be like a rebirth for some people; for others it was like having their third eye opened. What was going to happen? Would I see a vision or something? I didn't know, but I had to share what I was feeling with someone.

‘Will you have to wear a sari?' Erin asked after I'd filled her in on the latest.

‘No. At least I don't think so.' I didn't tell her that I was dressed in white.

‘Are there any fit boys in the group?'

‘Boys? Er . . . not really. No one I fancy, anyhow. It's
so
not about that.'

‘Go back to the er, not really. I know you, India Jane. There's something you're not telling me. Who is the er, not really?'

I laughed. I could never hide anything from Erin. Not even when we were in different countries. ‘Oh, you know. He's not
really my type, but OK, yes, there is a guy in the group, Liam, who is halfway decent. I don't fancy him, although he's OKlooking . . . but he's growing on me.'

‘Growing? Hmm. He sounds like a kind of fungus. Details,' Erin demanded. ‘Describe.'

‘Tall. He's seventeen. Thin. Not conventionally good-looking but he's got an interesting face. He's got something about him. Charisma. I could imagine him being some kind of leader or director when he's older. Er . . . what else? He's got a long nose, um, interesting eyes . . .'

‘Interesting eyes? What? Like he's got three of them? Is that because of that third eye thing you were on about yesterday?'

‘No, dozo. He has two. They're brown, smallish but sharp, like a bird's eyes, taking everything in, you know? And when he looks at me, it's like he really looks. Like he's looking right into me.'

‘Yuk. Like into your lungs, your liver and kidneys?'

‘Eriiiin.'

‘Sorry, just messing. How do you feel when he looks at you?'

‘Normal. Why?'

‘The eye magnet thing. Do you get the eye magnet thing?'

‘What's the eye magnet thing?' Erin was always coming up with strange terms for checking if attraction to a boy was real or not. This was a new one on me.

‘It's when a boy looks at you and you lock eyes for a moment more than is normally necessary – as if your eyes are magnets
and you can't tear yourself away from looking at each other. It's usually accompanied by a stomach lurch.'

‘Sounds like some kind of nasty physical disease.'

‘It is,' said Erin. ‘It's called love. So. Liam's lips?'

‘Yes. He has lips.'

‘India.
Describe them. I have to have a picture. You know that.'

‘OK. Just lips. I haven't really noticed.'

‘Hah! Then he can't be growing on you in a fancying kind of way. If he was, you'd be able to describe his mouth exactly. Shoes?'

I laughed. Erin always said you can tell a lot about a boy by his shoes. ‘Sandals.'

‘Bin him. Don't get involved. We don't do boys in sandals, India. You know that.'

‘Forget what he looks like, Erin, or what he wears. I don't care about that. It's like he gets me, you know? I can really talk to him and he understands what I'm going through and he was the only person who was friendly when I arrived.'

‘Does he have a girlfriend?'

‘Don't think he's bothered about relationships, although he does hang out with a girl called Rosie. She's in the group and is nice too.'

‘Hhm. Is he gay?'

‘Don't think so.'

‘And he's halfway decent you say? Not sure I like the sound
of him, India. For one thing, I thought we didn't do halfway. We don't do sandals and we don't do compromise. Remember? We are going to hold out for princes and suffer no frogs along the way. Talking of princes, what about Prince Cutenick himself? Joe?'

‘Disaster. He spends all his time either in the art room or at the bar he works at down in town or off on mystery trips. I'm keeping out of his way for the rest of the holiday.'

‘Oh really? Why?'

‘He's . . . I don't know. He seems to bring out the worst in me. I act like a twit when he's around and talk rubbish.'

‘Ah. Sounds like love to me. Let me know if the eye magnet thing happens with him.'

‘It won't. I'm totally off boys for the rest of the holiday. It's weird because, since I met Sensei and Liam, I am totally cool about Joe. Really. Like what he thinks of me doesn't matter any more. All I want is to learn this meditation and find peace of mind. Liam says he thinks that it may be what's been missing from my life so far.'

‘So far? What does he know? India, we're only fifteen. There are loads of things we have to try still, loads of things that are missing.'

‘I know but . . . oh, I can't explain, Erin. Sometimes when I'm listening to Sensei, I feel so . . . oh, I can't put it into words, like I've been waiting all my life to get here and hear his message.'

‘Woah, India . . .'

‘I've been waiting all week to learn how to meditate and this afternoon I'm going to learn.'

‘Om Shanti
and och aye the noo. Remember when we tried meditation?'

‘Yeah. But we didn't do it properly,' I said.‘I've been listening about it for days now and you have to put some commitment in.'

‘Listening? Sure they're not brainwashing you?'

‘No. Course not. This guy, he's, like, so inspiring.'

‘Who is he exactly again?'

‘Sensei. He's from India. He's about forty. He's been teaching meditation for years. He travels the world doing it.'

‘So is he Hindu or Buddhist?'

‘He's not any religion, although Liam says that the word
sensei
is Buddhist and he teaches a Buddhist meditation. But he's not about getting people to join a religion or take on any lifestyle. He simply wants to show people a way to find inner peace.'

Erin was quiet for a while. ‘Hey, India Jane,' she said finally. ‘Be careful, hey. I've heard of people getting involved in cults and stuff.'

‘No way, Erin. This isn't a cult. And I'm not stupid.'

‘Maybe not, but you sound . . . well, you sound kind of intense. Not like you.'

‘Nah. You're imagining it. It's me. Still me. Mad. Mixed up.'

‘Good. That's OK, then. Keep me informed, OK? Don't sell your soul . . .'

‘Not unless they offer a good price.'

‘In that case, they can have mine too.' Erin laughed. ‘That's more like it. Don't lose your sense of humour. And don't give up on this Joe guy. I like the look of him from that pic you sent. And he has a nice mouth.'

‘I am so totally over him, Erin. Really.'

‘If you say so. As I said, keep me updated and, if you snog him, I want details. And report back to me after the ceremony or session or whatever. I need to know that you haven't decided to join a nunnery.'

‘I will. But enough about me. What about you?'

‘What about me?'

‘How are you?'

‘Ah. At last! I thought you'd
never
ask. And since you are asking, it's a fine day here in Dublin and last night I was captured by Martians who ate my brain.'

‘So no change there, then.'

‘No, but thanks for asking. Nice to feel you're taking an interest.'

‘Nah. Just faking it to be polite.'

‘No change there, then.'

‘Nah,' I said. ‘Seriously though, I was a bit worried that I'd been a bit me me me lately.'

‘Nah. OK, a bit. But you don't do it all the time, so it's OK.
Besides, what are friends for, if not to listen through sickness and through health, through richer and through poorer?'

‘That's marriage. The Martians have eaten your brain.'

‘Told you. No. I'm fine, honest. Not a lot happening here.'

I love Erin.

We couldn't talk much longer as she was on a break and had to go but, once again, I so wished she was with me. What was happening to me felt major and I liked to share all the big things in my life with her.

The sense of anticipation I'd been feeling grew as I made my way into the place that had been allotted as the meditation room. Like all the bungalows used for the different classes at the centre, it was a simple white room with parquet flooring. Liam and Rosie were already there when I arrived and were lighting the usual sandalwood joss stick, opening windows to let a breeze blow through and placing mats and cushions out on the floor.

‘Sit down,' said Liam, indicating a cushion.‘The others are on their way. How are you feeling?'

I pulled a face as if to say, not sure.

‘Big day for you huh?' he asked.

I nodded.

‘When the student is ready, the Master appears,' said Liam.‘It's no accident that you're here on this island at this time. It is your destiny.'

Wow,
I thought.
Big words.
But there was a part of me that felt that it was fated. Meant to be. Destiny had brought me here to find peace of mind.

Rosie gave me her wide smile. ‘You're so lucky,' she said. ‘Some souls have to wait lifetimes to meet their Master.'

I could hear Erin's voice in my head.
Like, woah. I've only come to learn some meditation techniques, not meet my Master.

The other people for the session began to arrive and, like me, they were dressed in white. There was Marjorie Stott, a gentle old lady from Bristol. I liked her. We'd had a chat at breakfast one morning. Her husband had died two years previously and coming to Cloud Nine was her first real trip without him. She was missing him terribly. Brian McClary was another. He was a student from Dingle Bay in Ireland. The trip to Cloud Nine was part of his gap year. I wasn't so keen on him. He wore socks with his sandals, had lily-white hairy legs and wore shorts that were
way
too short. Like, had he never heard of Bermudas? I tried to tell myself not to be shallow, that looks weren't everything and that I should look for the person within, but even so, his long pimply legs were not a pretty sight. And lastly there was Clare Taylor. She had just finished her first year as an infant school teacher and said she needed to find peace of mind to help her cope with the kids. She had wild ‘I've stuck my finger in the electric socket' brown hair, a round jolly face and was always smiling.