The Happiness Show (21 page)

‘One beer and two screaming queens,' said Tom, putting his hat on.

‘Yes, and some chips.' Lizzie wrapped her towel around herself.

‘Sorry, Lizzie, remember you are speaking to an Englishman here. Do you mean chips or crisps?'

‘Either,' said Lizzie. ‘I'm starving.'

Lizzie lay on the sun lounge next to Keith and picked up a copy of
Marie Claire
from the table between them.

‘Where's Jim?'

‘Upstairs, reading. He's not feeling the best.'

‘What's wrong with him?'

‘I think he's really run-down, to tell you the truth. It's been pretty full-on at our place this year. He's recuperating.'

‘He needs a good swim. That'll sort him out.'

‘Nah, Jim doesn't swim. He was dunked badly by his brothers when he was about four and hasn't put his head back under since.'

‘Truly?' asked Keith, genuinely surprised. ‘He seems like such a can-do bloke.'

‘Can do everything else, can't do water. It must be lovely to see Becky and the kids again?'

‘I s'pose,' shrugged Keith with as little enthusiasm as he could muster.

‘Hey, what's the deal?'

‘I love 'em and all that but I'm not sure the kid thing is really my thing.' The baby on his knee gurgled and cooed as if on cue.

‘Hey, it takes a little getting used to but trust me, it does get easier. REUBEN! Don't come down the slide head-first. Maybe you're not a baby person. A lot of people aren't baby people. When they can talk and stuff, they're a lot more fun. I came across some research for the show about women and kids. The women all said that their children gave them the greatest joy and happiness in their lives. So the researchers followed them for a few weeks and guess what gave them the most anger, sadness and stress?'

‘Their husbands?'

‘No, their kids,' said Lizzie, lighting one of his cigarettes.

Tom returned carrying drinks and an enormous plate of nachos. ‘Here we are, refreshments have arrived. And a little bit of lemon in the gin and tonics so we don't get scurvy, or rickets, or whatever it was they got.'

‘Right you are. Bottoms up.'

‘I see you're smoking, Lizzie,' said Tom.

‘I see you're being a judgmental bastard, Tom,' said Lizzie playfully, before realising how familiar she sounded. ‘When I'm on holidays, I do as I please.'

‘Oh, I'm off to the lav. I think I've got a touch of Bali belly,' said Keith urgently, racing off.

Tom stretched out on the sun lounge Keith had vacated and took a mouthful of his drink. Then he reached over, took the cigarette from Lizzie's hand and had a drag. And then he gave it back. And then she had a drag. The two of them lay side by side, quietly looking out at their children playing. It was so quiet, but so much noise was passing between them.

 

The three couples met up again for dinner and it was no less magical than the first time. Becky and Felicity told stories about their boarding-school days and Becky did a hilarious impersonation of their old headmistress, Mrs Hoare, who spoke with a set of three speech impediments. ‘Wite, giwls! Now fink back to the beginning of the shemester.'

The conversation drifted through a multitude of topics, from natural therapies to dodgy financial advisers to climate change to marriage.

‘But it's true, the psychologists say most of us will have three main relationships in our lives. The first one is the dreamy, full-on, passionate, romantic one. The one you have in your twenties for travelling, fun and sex. The second one is in your thirties for marriage, commitment and children. And the last one is a soul mate,' Lizzie was saying.

‘So by the time you find your soul mate, all you can do is sit around drinking cups of tea all day?' said Keith drunkenly. Then he remembered himself and put his arm around Becky. ‘Well, I can let myself go now, because I've found her already.' Becky glowed. She wasn't buying any of it, but she was rather sloshed.

‘But why can't one person be all three things, like our parents were for each other?' asked Felicity.

‘What do you mean? They hated each other's guts,' said Becky.

‘No they didn't. They just bickered a lot. They were both very strong-willed.'

‘How do you explain the fact that they never went anywhere together?'

‘They liked to do different things.'

‘Yes. She liked to stay home and do craft and he liked to go to the pub and shag his secretary.'

The table went instantly quiet. It was an ‘Is that the time? I must be off' moment, until Keith leapt into damage-control mode.

‘Well, at least he just played up on her and didn't beat the shit out of her like my father used to do.'

‘My father was more a fan of psychological torture. Leaves fewer visible marks. I admit I'm a fan myself,' added Jim, putting his arm around Lizzie. ‘Isn't that right, sweetheart?'

‘Yes, thank you for not hitting me in front of our new friends. Well, my parents have just ignored each other for the last thirty years. If one of them played up on the other, at least I'd know they were alive.'

Everyone looked at Tom. ‘Well, I think I win this round. My mum's dead.'

There was relieved laughter all round.

 

Back in their room later that night, Lizzie and Jim got the kids ready for bed.

‘That was a bit of a bombshell about Becky and Felicity's parents,' said Jim, putting Scarlet into her pyjamas.

‘Yeah, it was kind of weird. I couldn't work out whether Felicity honestly didn't know or was just in denial.' Lizzie was brushing Reuben's teeth. ‘Now toilet and bed, thanks, darling. What do you think of them?'

‘Who?'

‘Becky and Felicity.'

‘Really nice for posh girls. Very down to earth. Keith's a funny old geezer. That was a great story about him smuggling speed into Israel. But that Tom … I like him but there's something sort of … I don't know … shifty about him.'

‘Shifty? Seriously?'

‘He always seems a little secretive. Never looks you in the eye.'

‘I think he's just very, you know, English. Cards close to his chest and all that.'

‘Maybe. Do you want to watch a movie?' Jim winked. ‘You know, one of the adult ones they have on cable?'

‘Ah, actually, I was going to have a night swim. Maybe when I get back. Listen, we must check out the town tomorrow.'

‘Yeah, good idea. And we need to buy some beer. Who's reading a story to the kids?' That was Jim's way of saying he didn't want to do something.

‘I'll do it. No worries.'

Lizzie lay on the bed between the two worn-out campers and told them a story from the land of sparkle, glitter and light about Reuben and Scarlet and their rocket-ship trip to the stars. When she emerged from their bedroom, Jim was asleep. Lizzie took off his shorts and thongs and pulled the covers over him. She put her bathers on and walked down to the beach, following a narrow path lined with tea lights.

It was dark and the sky was full of stars. It was still very warm but everyone downstairs was in their going-out-for-dinner clothes. Lizzie peeled off her T-shirt and stood in front of the water, stretching her arms high into the sky and breathing it all in. She was happy. Really happy. Her kids were asleep, her husband loved her, she was in Asia with Tom and she still felt young. She walked into water as warm as tea and as black as pitch and she dived under and stayed there for a long, long time.

 

‘I've done my teeth and I've taken my pills,' said Celia as she came over and kissed each of her parents.

‘Okay, darling, then time for bed.'

‘Goodnight, darling.' Tom kissed her. ‘Are you having a good time?'

‘It's the best place in the world.' Celia turned away and then looked back. ‘Mum? Can we go to Australia one day?'

‘Sure, darling.'

‘And can we stay with Scarlet and Reuben?'

‘Sure.'

‘I'm going to have a bath,' said Felicity once Celia had skipped off to bed. ‘I'm annoyed with Becky for badmouthing Mum and Dad like that.'

‘Don't be,' said Tom. ‘What's the issue? All couples have their problems and all families have their secrets.'

‘No they don't. Your family doesn't have any secrets.'

‘Yes they do.'

‘What are they?'

‘Well, they're obviously very well-kept secrets because I don't even know them. Actually, that's not true. My mother's mother was really her grandmother. Her real mother was her oldest sister.'

‘Is that true?'

‘Yes, apparently. But I can't see what difference it makes.'

‘I suppose so. So what are our problems?'

‘How do you mean?'

‘Well, you said all couples have their problems. What are ours?'

Oh, shit, thought Tom. Put a foot wrong and we could be here for hours. ‘Well, I obviously work too hard and neglect you, I don't spend enough time with Celia, I disappear up my own arsehole sometimes and I'm basically a garden variety twat. But I'm here. And I'm trying.'

Felicity smiled and disappeared into the bathroom. Tom heard the bathwater start and thought that he'd done rather well.

The last few days had been hard. All he could think about was Lizzie. He'd read somewhere that taking heroin felt like going from the coldest room in the coldest house in the coldest country to the warmest room in the warmest house in the warmest country, just like that. That was how Lizzie made him feel. He'd had a hard-on or semi hard-on since she arrived and his balls now had a constant dull ache. She made him feel funnier, younger and better-looking. She lit something inside of him.

He stood out on the balcony and watched the people strolling below. He looked out to the shore and saw a lone figure take off her T-shirt and reach up to the sky. And then he realised it was Lizzie.

He knocked on the bathroom door. ‘Flick, I'm just going downstairs. To try out the camera.'

‘Sure. Don't forget to take a key.'

But Tom had already gone.

 

After a good ten minutes Lizzie had had enough swimming and was suddenly very tired. She found her towel, wrapped it around herself and realised she was shivering. She felt exposed out on the beach; wet and alone, she stuffed her feet into her jewelled sandals, pulled her shirt over her head and began to walk swiftly up the beach. Her eye was caught by a couple kissing on the sun lounges, almost obscured by a hedge. They were rolling around and the girl looked very young. Then Lizzie realised that the girl was Helena, the Danish nanny. And, a moment later, that the guy was Keith.

Stunned, unable to speak, Lizzie froze.

Then a voice called out, ‘Lizzie,' and when she looked up, it was Tom. At the sound of his voice Helena looked up and gasped.

‘Oh, fuck,' said Keith.

Helena ran off in fright and Keith stood up unsteadily. He was very, very drunk.

‘I know how this looks and I can explain.'

Tom looked at Lizzie. ‘Just like they say in the movies.'

‘I know, I know. I love my wife. She's beautiful. It's just …' And then Keith burst into tears.

‘Oh, shit,' said Tom.

‘I think I'd better leave him to you.' Lizzie was suddenly freezing. ‘Good luck.'

‘Lizzie?' whispered Tom as she turned away.

‘Yes, Tom?'

‘I saw you from the balcony.'

‘Really?' Keith's sobs got louder. ‘I'd better go. He's all yours.'

 

‘Mate, do you know what the really stupid thing is?' Keith slurped at a cup of tea at the bar. ‘You know what the really fucking stupid thing is?'

‘That she's young enough to be your nanny?' offered Tom.

‘No, mate, the really stupid thing is that I think I'm in love with Lizzie.'

Tom almost spat his own tea across the room. ‘Since when?'

‘Since I met her, I think. I love Becky. I do. I want to stay with her forever. With Helena it's just my stupid cock. But with Lizzie … Well, my cock has an opinion about that too. But what would I know? I'm fucking around on one of the greatest women in the world. I'm turning into my fucking father. That's what eats me the most.'

Tom took a deep breath and stirred his drink. ‘So, does Lizzie know?'

‘God, no. She has no idea. And I'm not going to tell her. I'm hoping going home will get her out of my system. I'm weak, Tom. I'm sorry. I don't want to fuck everything up for the sake of a shag. I've never actually shagged Helena, technically. And that's something I'm quite proud of. I wanted to. But I stopped myself.'

The words washed over Tom. His brain was whirling with Lizzie. He didn't like the idea of Keith fancying her. At all. Lizzie was his sweet spot, not Keith's. Tom felt a little as though he owned her.

‘So, how long has it been going on?'

‘With Helena? Look, to tell you the truth I worked with her in Denmark and it all started there, during the IVF stuff. Becky was totally off her head on hormones and I felt like a right loser with retarded spaff and I was flying back and forth just to jerk off into a jar. Helena was just so … I don't know. Uncomplicated. It was an escape, I think. Then Becky spent a weekend with me in Denmark and she met Helena, who told her that she used to nanny for a set of twins. So Becky told her that if we ever had twins, we'd get her over to work for us. The rest is history. I took the job in Australia to get away from her. Helena, I mean. I was hoping she'd find herself a nice English boy who would shag her senseless. Fat lot of good that did. But I'm glad you and Lizzie found us. Gave me a fright, but it won't happen again. You're not going to tell Becky, are you?'

‘No, Keith. It's your life, mate. Run it however you want. Now I suggest you go upstairs and shag your wife.'

‘Good idea, mate. I thought the other night, If you can't be happy with this, mate, you'll never be happy.' Keith signed the bill and they got into the lift. ‘You're level four, aren't you?'

‘Yes. Four.'

‘So, Tom, why didn't anything happen between you and Lizzie on the Trans-Siberian?'

‘I don't know. I think she was keen on someone else. See you tomorrow, Keith.'

Keith held the lift door open. ‘Thanks, mate. I give you my word it won't happen again.'

As Tom lay next to Felicity that night, Keith's words kept repeating in his head. ‘If you can't be happy with this, you'll never be happy.'

 

Lizzie, Jim and the kids caught the bemo into town and spent the morning in Sanur looking at shrines, checking out shops, stocking up on cheap beer and eating banana pancakes. It was lovely to be in the hustle and bustle: stray dogs sleeping on the side of the road, offerings to the gods on every stoop, Muslim girls on the backs of bikes ridden by boys in sarongs, all punctuated by the shouts from the stalls of ‘Hello! What's your name? Where you from? I do you best price!'

Reuben bought a kite in the shape of a ship, Scarlet snaffled herself a tiny dollhouse, and Jim found what was probably the only secondhand book shop in Sanur and picked up a Tom Clancy, a Michael Crichton and a Matthew Reilly. He also had a haircut and a shave. Lizzie bought a couple of silk tops for herself and some baby clothes for Jules. As a sign of hope. She missed Jules and wondered what she would make of it all.

By 12.30 they were hungry and thirsty so they sat down at a local warung and ordered nasi goreng, gado gado, spring rolls and fried chicken. Scarlet cracked it because they didn't have chocolate milk and Reuben had to go to the toilet just as the food arrived, but apart from those minor hiccups their first local meal went off without a hitch.

Lizzie had been quiet all morning, thinking about Keith and Helena. It was almost a case of, ‘And here's one we prepared earlier' – as though the universe had sent her and Tom a preview. But the truth was, Lizzie's feelings for Tom were getting stronger. All she had to do was think of him and her heart leapt and her face flushed. She thought back to her last Scrabble night with Jules, a couple of days before they'd left for Bali.

‘So, Lizzie, I suppose you're wondering why I invited you here this evening.'

‘No, not really. MUESLI. Twenty-seven and eighteen … that'll be forty-five, thanks.'

‘I'm worried about this Tom thing.'

‘Oh, Jules, just – don't. I'm an adult.'

‘Can you let me do something? As a friend?'

‘Does it involve nudity?'

‘Only in your mind. Let's walk through this. Okay. You arrive in Bali, he is totally bonkers for you and you for him. So Jim takes the kids off to some elephant sanctuary for the day and Tom ends up being bumped off his flight back so he's in Bali sans family for a couple of days.'

‘Sounds a bit far-fetched.'

‘I never said it was realistic. Just close your eyes and go with it. So you two end up next to the pool, reading side by side as the Balinese boys fan you and mop your brows.'

‘And I am hand-fed tropical fruit.'

‘And you are hand-fed tropical fruit. So you two have a few drinks, then a few more, and then you say that you are going upstairs for a nap. Tom says he feels like a lie-down too. He walks you to your room and asks if he can check it out. He stands on the balcony and your hands brush. He tells you he still loves you and he pulls you inside and—'

‘I find myself on the end of his cock.'

‘Eventually. After quite a lot of kissing, rubbing, et cetera, et cetera. So you fuck. And it's amazing. And you are lying on the bed, staring into each other's eyes, and he farts. You're in the wet spot. Then he makes some really dopey remark that makes you cringe. And then just as he stands up and tells you he has to have a shit, in walks Jim with the kids.'

‘Why are they back so early?'

‘I don't know. The elephants died. So you return to Australia. Jim leaves you. You're on your own. Tom's back home with some lovely memories and his wife none the wiser while you're a single mum, all for the sake of a shag. Wouldn't you rather have settled for a wank and the quiet life?'

‘Jules,' said Lizzie, filling their glasses with wine, ‘I like the way you think. Seriously. You are coming from a place of love and logic and I'm grateful for it. But we are dealing with unbridled lust here. Nothing logical, nothing tameable. When you're hot you're hot and you'll do whatever it takes. Think about that second before you come. You will do anything to resolve the situation.'

‘That might be true, Lizzie. But just think about whether the bang is worth the buck.'

‘I will, Jules. Now if I'm not mistaken, haven't you just pulled another triple-word score out of your arse?'

‘Yes indeedy. STILETTO. One hundred and thirty-four. I win.'

 

Lizzie, Jim and the kids finished lunch and wandered back to the bemo stop. As they waited, Lizzie realised that they were standing in front of a movie theatre. She was momentarily surprised, and then surprised that she was surprised. Of course they had cinemas. Everywhere in the world has cinemas. There were Indonesian and English movies advertised and she saw that
Lost in Translation
was screening on Friday night.

‘Look, Jim.
I never saw it when it came out. I might come down on Friday.'

‘Great idea. I might come with you if we can get a babysitter. Bill Murray is the funniest sad clown in the world.'

At the Shangri-La, the four of them fell in a pile and slept until dinner time. Then they got up, had a swim, ate pizza next to the pool and went back upstairs to bed. They hadn't seen any of the barmy army, as Jim had dubbed them, all day. Tom and Felicity had taken Celia to see Balinese dancing, while Keith and Becky were lying low with the twins. It was actually rather peaceful.

 

The days seemed to melt together into one long afternoon of eating, swimming, chatting and flirting. At one stage Lizzie even thought Felicity and Jim were flirting with each other.

‘So, Jim,' said Felicity, playing with her hair. ‘Almost a week in Bali and you haven't been in the pool once.'

‘How observant of you. I see you've been wearing the same hat for a week, too, and I've been polite enough not to say anything. If you want me to take my clothes off, all you have to do is ask.' Lizzie had forgotten how charming Jim could be when he felt like it. ‘No, I don't swim. I'm far too cool. But I do drink. Anyone for a Chardonnay?'

‘Sounds lovely,' said Flick.

‘How many glasses? Can I see by a show of hands?' said Jim, going into schoolteacher mode. ‘Four. I'll be back in a sec.'

Jim went to the bar and Felicity leaned in conspiratorially. ‘So what's the deal with Jim and water?'

‘Bad experience when he was young. Held under by his brothers. Won't immerse himself.'

‘Oh, I see. Very interesting. Sorry – I'm such a nosy parker.'

‘Oh, don't worry,' said Lizzie. ‘Me too.'

‘He's a lovely man, your Jim. Wonderful with the kids.'

‘Yes, I know … But if it's any consolation, he has a very small penis.'

Felicity looked at her in horror and then roared with laughter.

‘Oh, Lizzie, you're outrageous!' When they finally calmed down, Felicity looked at Lizzie and raised one eyebrow. ‘So – seriously?'

‘No. Hung like a horse, I'm afraid.'

 

The holiday was unfolding in ways Lizzie couldn't have imagined. The sexual tension between her and Tom made everything glitter. They were both more patient with their kids, more charming with their partners and more conscious of themselves. All the usual rules were suspended: the kids ate junk food and stayed up late, the parents started drinking earlier, and each day they woke to the same flawless blue sky. On the very first morning, Lizzie had asked the pool attendant how the weather would be. He'd smiled, but his eyes had laughed at her. ‘Hot, sunny,' he said. ‘Hot, sunny every day.'

Since that night by the pool, they'd barely seen Helena, and Keith had been transformed into the most diligent and co-operative partner. ‘The more you put in, the more you get out,' he said as he strapped the two babies into their stroller and took them upstairs for a sleep one afternoon. ‘I may even have a little kip myself.'

Tom woke first every morning, grabbed an early breakfast in the deserted restaurant, then went down to the beach to take photographs of the kite flyers. Bright-eyed and buzzing with coffee, his Leica over his shoulder, he'd pass the others on his way out as they trooped in blearily. He couldn't wait to get back to the flying patches of colour and the beautiful boys who launched these magical wind catchers. He tried to capture the joy of it all – the unalloyed delight of these kids with their kites. If a kite got tangled or damaged, half a dozen of them would gather around and sort out the problem together. And when the kite took flight again, they'd all cheer.

Tom loved the weight of the camera in his hands and the gentle clack of the shutter. He decided to sell all his other cameras when he got back to London. This was the only one he ever wanted to use.

When he got back home, he decided, he would print up his best shots and hang them in his office to remind him of this feeling: the incredible peace and satisfaction that he had found here on the beach. This was what he needed. This was what he had been missing. He hadn't had a chest pain since he'd arrived. No indigestion. Nothing. The chatter in his head had subsided and he felt a clarity he hadn't known in years.

Maybe it had been the diet of HobNobs all along. But he couldn't help but wonder if it was Lizzie who was propelling him. The holiday was helping, but he couldn't avoid the thought that Lizzie was it. Lizzie was what made him feel himself.

 

As the adults lay in the sun one afternoon, Felicity broke the silence. ‘I tell you, I feel so relaxed. When I first arrived I didn't know what time it was. Now I don't even know what day it is.'

‘It's Friday afternoon and it's almost 3.30,' said Tom.

‘And we leave on Monday. Is that right?' Felicity took off her sundress and lowered herself into the pool.

‘Yes, after lunch. Lizzie, when do you Antipodeans head back down under?'

‘Sunday. What did you say it was today? Friday?'

‘Yes.'

‘I almost forgot. I was going to go to the movies tonight.
Lost in Translation
is on in town.'

‘Really?' asked Tom.

‘Yes. We saw a sign the other day. It starts at 7.30.'

‘I saw that. Brilliant movie,' said Felicity.

‘Is that the one set in Tokyo?' asked Becky.

‘Yes, Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson.'

‘I'd love to go with you,' sighed Becky. ‘I haven't seen a movie since the twins were born. But it's Helena's night off.'

‘Get Keith to look after them,' chipped in Felicity.

‘I suppose I could,' said Becky, putting on some lip balm. ‘But he'd whinge about it all day tomorrow.'

‘I wonder if we could get a babysitter, Flick,' said Tom. ‘I'd love to go.'

‘I've already seen it. You go with Lizzie.'

‘Are you sure?' He knew she'd never see a movie twice but he had to make the gesture. ‘We could ask that carer from the kids' club, the one who braided Celia's hair.'

‘No, you go. You both lived in Japan. Did you know each other there?'