The Happiness Show (22 page)

Tom and Lizzie were both reminded of the same thing. The moment with their backpacks at the baggage carousel. They looked at each other.

‘No,' said Lizzie. ‘We didn't.'

‘I can look after your kids if Jim would like to go too,' Felicity offered.

Tom's heart sank and so did Lizzie's.

‘That's kind of you, Felicity. I'll ask Jim.' Lizzie waded into the pool.

‘Where is Jim?' asked Tom.

‘Upstairs, sleeping. He ended up watching some movie on cable until 3.30 this morning.'

Lizzie fooled around with the kids for a while. She toyed with the thought of her and Tom, together. Alone. It was just too perfect. She tried to push the possibility out of her mind before she got too attached to it. She reminded herself that Jim had said he was keen to go.

When it got to five o'clock, the parents started to round up the inflatable toys and the whinging kids. The boys Reuben had been hanging out with had left that morning, so he had taken arsehole pills and spent the afternoon annoying the girls.

‘But MUUUUUUUUUUM! I don't want to go back upstairs. This is so unfair,' he protested.

‘No, it's not. Get your crocodile and pull your finger out, mate, quick sticks. And if you don't do what you're told when you're told, someone will be going to bed early. Now
move
.'

As Lizzie gathered her bits and pieces – book, snacks, water bottle, sunglasses, sunscreen and fractious children – Tom approached her.

‘So, this film is on at 7.30. Should we take a cab?'

‘Yeah, I reckon. The bemo goes there but a cab will be far more
benli
,' said Lizzie, dredging up the Japanese word for ‘convenient.'

‘So I'll meet you in the lobby at seven?'

‘Sounds great.'

Tom gave Lizzie a huge, elated smile. She felt woozy. She looked around and saw Felicity and Celia in the distance, dropping their towels into the large laundry hamper near the pool attendant. Lizzie looked back at him with a trembling grin, took a deep breath and bit her lip.

‘This'll be fun. I'll see you at seven.'

‘I'll have to ask Jim, you know.'

‘I know, I know. Seven.' And Tom grabbed his hat and walked away.

 

After physically removing a tired and cranky Reuben from the pool, Lizzie managed to get them all upstairs. Jim was in the toilet.

‘Hello!' said Lizzie.

‘No need to sound so fucking cheery. Don't come too close. Touch of tropical tummy.' The smell hit Lizzie and she recoiled when she reached the bathroom. ‘Oh dear. So I take it you're not up for the movie tonight?'

‘Oh, I forgot about that. No way. I'm not going anywhere. Not without a commode, anyway.'

‘Is it okay if I go? Felicity has already offered to look after the kids.'

‘Sure, you go,' said Jim, grunting. ‘I'll be fine with the kids but I'll call her if I get stuck.'

Reuben and Scarlet were ensconced in front of the television. They looked brown and gorgeous and tired, just the way Lizzie liked them.

‘Room service for dinner, Jim? What do you think?'

‘Great idea. I'll just have toast and tea. Thanks. Can you bring me my book?'

When she got to the door of the bathroom, she was hit by the smell again. Jim saw her face. ‘Just chuck it from there, mate. I don't want your hair to fall out with the fumes.'

She called room service, ordered dinner for the kids and toast for Jim and then stood on the balcony, watching the sun go down. She picked up Jim's tobacco pouch and rolled herself a smoke. She lit up and felt everything churn inside her.

As she put the Tally Ho papers back into the Log Cabin packet she saw a name and a number written on the back. AMBER 98635222.

‘Who's Amber?' Lizzie yelled from the balcony.

‘What?' Jim yelled back.

‘I said, WHO'S AMBER? You've written her name on the back of the Tally Hos.'

‘Oh, Amber?' Jim came out of the bathroom, belching and pulling up his shorts. ‘She's one of the mums from school. I was going to get her the name of that guy who writes the stuff on single parenting.'

‘Amber,' Lizzie said, rolling the name around her mouth. ‘Sounds like a porn star.'

The doorbell rang. Room service. With the kids fed and entranced by some weird Indonesian cartoon, Lizzie set about getting herself ready. She hopped into the shower and Jim sat back down on the toilet. ‘Sorry, Lizzie. Nature calls. Jesus, it feels like my intestines will be coming out next.'

‘You never know, you might find the remote control.'

Jim's smell wafted into the shower and Lizzie was repelled.

‘Will you be okay on your own?' he called.

‘On my own? Oh, no. Tom's coming too. Felicity has already seen it.'

‘Oh, okay. Make sure you leave Felicity's room number, just in case I do need help. I don't even know her surname.'

‘It's Shorebrook. I think they're on the fourth floor. I'll find out.'

Lizzie cleaned up the kids' dinner mess and piled it all outside the door for room service to collect. It was five to seven. ‘Jim, the kids are in their pyjamas but Scarlet hasn't brushed her teeth. Are you okay for me to go?' she asked, halfway out the door.

‘I'm fine. Feeling a bit better, actually. Must have been the toast. Might go out and have a durry.'

‘Okay. I'm off, then. Good night, kids.'

Scarlet and Reuben ignored her and she closed the door behind her. She could hear her own footsteps as she walked along the corridor to the lift. She felt young and beautiful and she ached for Tom.

The lift opened and it occurred to her that Tom might be inside. He wasn't. Instead there was a family. A miserable-looking family – Dutch or German, she guessed. Lizzie prided herself on being good at guessing where people were from before they even opened their mouths. They looked healthy, strong, brown and serious.

‘It's four tew erly two teke a borth. Whay wore yew teking a borth at dunner tarme?' the husband said. South African. What's a borth? Lizzie wondered. She worked it out as the lift doors opened and she stepped out into the lobby.

Tom was standing in the middle of the room and her heart skipped a beat. He looked gorgeous. Like the travelling Tom she'd fallen in love with but better dressed. He turned to her, almost as if he could smell her or recognise her footsteps. She strode towards him, beaming. He looked quite serious, she thought.

‘Jim couldn't come. Bali belly.'

Tom opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Keith appeared, grinning like an idiot.

‘Hello, darling. Mind if I tag along?'

 

Lizzie tried as hard as she could to disguise her massive disappointment. ‘No. Um, fine.' She looked to Tom.

‘I bumped into Keith in the lift. He was on his way to the bar.' Tom looked how she felt.

‘And I thought I'd make it a ménage à trois,' said Keith, ‘So, taxi, anyone?'

One of the island's blue cabs pulled up and Keith opened the back door for Lizzie before climbing in next to her. ‘You be alpha male and sit in the front, Tom. You know where we're going.'

‘Actually, I have no idea. Lizzie knows.'

Lizzie leant forward. ‘The movie cinema on Jalan Watunu, near the market.'

The driver nodded and they were off. Tom and Lizzie sat in grim silence, but Keith seemed not to notice.

‘The missus gave me a night off. I've been doing the right thing, what with Helena unwell and all.'

‘Has she been ill?' asked Tom.

‘Yes, touch of Bali belly. I had it earlier in the week. You two haven't had it yet?'

‘No,' said Lizzie.
But then neither of us has pashed you
, she would have said normally. But she was too disappointed. ‘Jim's on the tail-end of it.'

‘We've manage to dodge it so far. Celia was a little off-colour when we arrived. But I suppose I shouldn't speak too soon. We still have a couple of days to go.'

‘It was rather tame, I must say,' said Keith, winding down the window. ‘Mind if I smoke, chief? Marvellous.' He lit up a clove cigarette. ‘I spent six months in India with the shits. I tell you, not much fun. But I looked very pale, thin and interesting when I got back to Old Blighty. Never had so many shags in my life.'

Tom and Keith managed some chit-chat about their mother-in-law while Lizzie gazed out the window.

She knew it was wrong. She knew she was being greedy. She had enough luck and happiness for ten lifetimes. If she'd heard about someone like her, she'd have hated them. She had it all, fucking all, and still it wasn't enough. She knew it was selfish and she did feel guilty but she couldn't help it. She needed a fix.

 

The air-conditioned cinema was an oasis after the dusty humidity of the street. As they sat down – Keith, then Lizzie, then Tom, despite Keith's best efforts to wrangle the middle seat – Tom's hand brushed Lizzie's. This might be the closest they'd get, she thought, and she was determined to make the most of it.

As the trailers began, Keith gasbagged on. ‘You know they shot the shagging scene but they left it out in the end?'

‘Hey, shut the fuck up,' hissed Lizzie. ‘I'm really looking forward to this. Don't ruin it.'

‘Ooooohhhh, someone's cranky.' Keith sat back in his seat and shovelled peanuts into his mouth.

‘Too right I'm cranky. I didn't come here to have the story spoilt.'

‘It's a great movie. You'll love it. Especially if you've been to Tokyo.'

‘Have you seen it?' asked Tom.

‘Yes. Twice. I love it.'

Lizzie was fuming. Keith was crashing their date to see a movie he'd seen not once but twice already?

As the opening credits rolled, Keith leaned over. ‘I've stayed in that hotel,' he pointed. Lizzie snapped.

‘Keith, no offence, but I hate people talking during movies. So I'd really appreciate it if you could keep your comments to yourself and we'll have a chat about it afterwards.'

Keith looked through the dark for support for Tom but Tom just stared at the screen. So Keith did what he was told and sat the fuck back and shut the fuck up for the rest of the film.

It didn't take long for Tom to press his leg against Lizzie's. And it wasn't much later that they had their hands under the armrests, resting near each other. And then Tom was rubbing her hand gently with his. Finally Lizzie grabbed his hand and they held on tight. She could feel his breath on her neck and she so badly wanted to turn around and kiss him. Tom had a massive hard-on and he put his hat over it. Lizzie saw. And she was flattered.

Tom hadn't felt such raw lust since he was sixteen. He wanted to put his hand up her skirt and feel her mouth on his. He wanted to cuddle her, talk to her, play with her hair. The two of them. By themselves. Unrestricted.

Neither of them paid much attention to the movie. But as Tokyo appeared on screen, Japan came rushing back to both of them. Tom remembered the Caster Mild cigarettes, the typhoons, the udon noodles, schoolgirls laughing coyly behind their hands. Lizzie concluded that she was exactly halfway in between the two main characters – the worn out, disillusioned, long-married hack and the wide-eyed, idealistic newlywed.

And then the movie finished. And it wasn't clear whether the boy got the girl or whether we even wanted him to. The lights came back on and Tom and Lizzie felt as exposed as if they were naked.

‘So?' said Keith, stretching. ‘What did you think?'

‘Best movie I've seen in ages.' Tom pressed his thigh against Lizzie's and then stood up.

‘Anyone fancy a drink?'

‘Great idea,' said Tom. ‘Anyone bring a Lonely Planet?'

‘We don't need a guide.' Lizzie peeled her skirt off the plastic seat. ‘There's a night market not far away. I'm sure we can get a drink there.'

 

As they walked out of the cinema, a man mimed turning a steering wheel. ‘Transport?' he called. ‘You want transport?'

‘Yes, yes,' said Lizzie. ‘We want to go to the night market.'

‘Sure. No problem. My car is this way. Where are you from?'

‘I'm from Australia but the men are from England.'

‘Ah. Please, my name is Made. This is my car.' Made opened the back door and Lizzie gestured for Tom and Keith to get in. She sat in the front.

‘So,' Made said as he pulled away from the kerb. ‘Where are you staying?'

‘The Shangri-La,' piped up Keith before Lizzie had a chance to name a cheaper hostel.

‘Oh, very expensive. How much is one Bintang there?'

‘I don't know,' shrugged Lizzie. ‘I've been buying cheap beer from the supermarket.'

‘Very smart,' said Made.

‘Fifteen thousand,' jumped in Keith, unhelpfully. ‘One Bintang is fifteen thousand rupiah.'

Made laughed. ‘So much! And here we are.'

The car stopped and Lizzie turned to face Tom and Keith. ‘You guys hop out. I'll pay Made.' They did as they were told.

‘Forty thousand, thank you, madam.'

‘Okay,' said Lizzie rustling around in her bag. ‘Listen, Made, I'll pay you a hundred thousand if you wait for me for fifteen minutes.'

‘Certainly, madam. I stay here.'

‘No, Made, you go for a drive and come back. Here, to this spot. And I'll meet you.'

‘Sure.'

Lizzie got out of the car. She joined the lads and the three of them wandered though the market. This was the kind of thing Asia did best: stall after stall of grilled fish on sticks, strange fragrant fruit, cigarettes, cheap Indian jewellery, fake designer bags, postcards and trinkets. They browsed for a while, ostensibly looking for a bar, but Lizzie had other plans.

When Keith stopped to play with some model motorcycles, Lizzie pulled Tom aside and whispered in his ear.

‘Let's ditch Keith,' she urged. ‘I've paid Made to wait for us. We can escape to somewhere quieter.'

‘Well done, you gorgeous thing. You go first. I'll meet you there.'

Lizzie slipped away through the crowd and found her way back to Made's car. He was waiting just as he'd promised.

‘I'm here. I'm just waiting for my friend.'

‘Okay, madam. I wait in the car.'

Lizzie paced anxiously, searching the crowd for Tom but terrified of being seen by Keith.

‘I think these will look smashing in the boys' room,' Keith was saying to Tom back at the stall, as the shopkeeper handed him two miniature Harley Davidsons, the twins' names etched onto the tanks. ‘Okay, now to alcohol. Where's Lizzie?'

‘She went on ahead. You stay here – I'll go and grab her.'

In a show of uncharacteristic obedience, Keith did what he was told. He struck up a conversation with two pretty girls running a clothes stall. The last thing Tom heard him say was ‘How much for these T-shirts that say “Fuck the Terrorists”?'

Tom walked as fast as he could back towards the entrance. He passed a giant pig on a spit and wondered for a second if he was lost; he didn't remember any pig. But then he saw a dreadlocked stallholder and knew he was on the right track. He quickened his pace but as he passed the man's jewellery stall, something caught his eye. He stopped. He asked how much it was. And he bought it.

It had only been five minutes but Lizzie was starting to wonder whether Tom was coming. She scanned the market for his checked shirt. ‘Please, please, please, Tom. Please come,' she whispered under her breath.

And then she saw him. He was searching for her. Their eyes met and he broke into a huge smile and a quick jog. Lizzie opened the car door and they hurried into the back seat. ‘Go,' Lizzie told Made, ducking down so as not to be seen.

They caught their breath and then took each other's hand and squeezed.

‘Where?' said Made, turning in the direction of the Shangri-La.

‘What?' said Lizzie, looking back over her shoulder. ‘I'm sorry, Made, what did you say?'

‘Where do you want to go?'

‘Oh! Um, just drive around.'

‘Somewhere quiet,' added Tom.

There was a pause. Then Tom had an idea. ‘How long does it take to drive to Kuta?'

‘About half an hour.'

Tom and Lizzie looked at each other and knew.

‘Great. Take us there,' said Tom.

‘No worries,' said Made. ‘No worries.'

Lizzie and Tom sat for a second and then they turned to each other and exhaled. Tom wrapped his arms around her and they hugged. It was such a release to be alone and entwined. All that tension, all that holding on. All that pretending.

They held each other for what seemed forever, breathing each other in. Then Tom broke free and laughed. ‘You're a genius.'

‘Do you think he'll crack it?' Lizzie touched her palm to Tom's face.

‘Bad luck. This was our only chance.' He buried his face in her neck and Lizzie tingled all over.

Made glanced in the rear-view mirror and then put up the privacy screen. Lizzie and Tom thought they were the only people in the world ever to have felt like this, but Made had seen it all before.

Tom gazed at Lizzie and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he cupped her face in his hands and he kissed her.

It was urgent, it was animal and it was unstoppable. Their mouths were so hot, it was like their first kiss all over again. Lizzie was exploding inside. She opened her eyes to make sure it wasn't a dream – and it wasn't. They were alone and together, kissing in the back of a car somewhere between Sanur and Kuta. A little pine-tree-shaped deodoriser swung from the air-conditioning knob. She wanted to remember every detail. She wanted to record it and replay it every day for the rest of her life.

It was bliss. It was glorious. Nothing else mattered and she prayed it would never end. I'd pay whatever it cost for this, she thought. Whatever it cost.

She could feel Tom's stubble and taste his delicious mouth. He tasted milky and salty. They kissed slowly, they kissed fast. They kissed softly, they kissed hard. Tom gently bit her lip and she edged her hand up his thigh. She ran her fingers through his hair and he followed the curves of her body with his hands. It was as if they were dancing.

They whizzed through the night in their own little bubble. Catching up on lost time, consuming each other. The build-up between them was so intense, it felt as though they could kiss forever and never be sated.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to and they didn't want to. There were no words that could convey what their bodies could. Lost in translation, thought Tom. This is lost in translation.

Lizzie wasn't thinking about her kids, about Jim, about anything. This was involuntary. It was not negotiable. It was something she had to do.

Tom felt so happy. So alive. He felt as if he were home.

They spun through the night and there seemed to be no past and no present. Just them. Just now. Just Tom and Lizzie.

Finally Made stopped the car. He got out and closed the door. Tom and Lizzie looked out the windows; it was brightly lit and they were blinking. Then they realised they were at a petrol station.

They looked at each other, all tousled and wild, and Tom kissed Lizzie gently on the mouth.

‘Lizzie, I …'

‘I know, Tom. Me too.'

‘No, Lizzie,' he said, fishing around for something in his pocket. ‘I bought you something.'

He handed her a thick silver ring with an elephant on it.

Lizzie gasped. ‘When did you buy this?'

‘Just then. When I ditched Keith. I bought it for you because elephants never forget.'

‘Oh, Tom,' said Lizzie as tears welled in her eyes. ‘I love it.' She slid it onto her finger. It was a little loose. ‘I'll wear it every day.' And for the millionth time, she kissed him.

‘You don't have to. I just wanted to give you something. Right before we left London I found that little music box you gave me. The one that played “How Much Is That Doggy in the Window.” And I realised I've never given you anything.'

‘That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me,' said Lizzie, looking down at the ring on her finger.

‘It looks lovely on you.'

Made got back into the car and started the engine. Tom put his arm around Lizzie and they snuggled together, staring out the window. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and occasionally she would turn to him and kiss his neck, his mouth or his fingers, trying to memorise every sweet moment for the years ahead. They arrived in Kuta and drove along Jalan Legian, which looked like Sanur on steroids. A thrum of shops and people, even at one o'clock in the morning. Laughing groups of Aussies clutching bags full of shopping. Lizzie and Tom were on a different planet, somewhere deeper and richer than either of them had been before. It felt so good that neither of them could think of it as wrong. But it wasn't right, either.

‘Excuse me, okay, we are in Kuta now. Where to?' asked Made apologetically, rolling down the screen. They were crawling along by the kerb.

Lizzie looked at Tom and wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking.

‘Well?' Tom asked.

‘It's up to you,' said Lizzie. ‘I've done my bit. I organised the car.'

Tom looked out the window and thought hard. He saw a sign flashing. ROOM VACANT. ‘Just here, thanks.'

Made stopped the car and Tom got out. He stood on the pavement, staring at the flashing sign. Next door there was a karaoke bar and someone was screaming into the microphone: ‘I still call Australia …
HOME!
'

Tom stood, paralysed. Lizzie had climbed out of the car and was standing next to him. Neither of them was sure how they wanted this movie to end.

On the Bali air, a new song floated out of the karaoke bar.

 

I will come for you at night-time

I will raise you from your sleep

I will kiss you in four places

As I go running along your street …

And we may never meet again

So shed your skin and let's get started

And you will throw your arms around me

Yeah, you will throw your arms around me …

So if you disappear out of view

You know I will never say goodbye

And though I try to forget it

You will make me call your name

And I'll shout it to the blue summer sky …

And you will throw your arms around me

 

Lizzie took Tom's hand.

Tom wrapped his arms around Lizzie.

And they danced.

Tom brushed a lock of Lizzie's hair away from her face, looked deep into her eyes and kissed her.

‘You're lovely, Lizzie.'

‘And you, Tom Shorebrook, are a prince.'

Made was parked on the other side of the street. He beeped his horn and made a steering gesture.

Tom looked up at the sky, exhaled, gulped, took Lizzie's hand and led her back to the car. ‘Home, please. Back to Sanur. The Shangri-La. Take the long way.'

Lizzie and Tom kissed all the way back. Long, deep kisses, mapping each other with their hands, their lips, their eyes. The closer they got, the more urgently they kissed. Just before they reached the Shangri-La, Lizzie began to cry.

‘Drop me just here, thanks, Made,' said Tom.

Made pulled over and kept the car running. ‘You want I take your girlfriend back to the hotel?'

Tom smiled at Lizzie. ‘Yes, take my girlfriend back to the hotel. I'm going to walk the rest of the way.' He pulled out his wallet.

‘Will that cover it?'

‘Certainly. Thank you, sir.' Lizzie felt suddenly tacky.

Tom looked at Lizzie, took her hand and kissed it. ‘I miss you.'

‘I miss you too, Tom. So much sometimes.'

‘This isn't over, Lizzie. We'll finish it some day.'

‘I know.'

Tom leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. Then he moved in closer and whispered in her ear. ‘I love you, Lizzie. Always have and always will.' And before she had a chance to say anything, he had closed the door and walked away.

Made dropped Lizzie off at the brightly lit reception. She got out of the car with a strange mix of calm, sorrow, guilt and relief, straightened herself up and waited for the lift. Checking out her tousled reflection in a windowpane, she wondered if Jim would know.

It was almost 3 a.m. When the lift doors opened at the third floor, real life hit her with a thud. Back in their room, all the lights were on. Jim was sitting on the toilet and Reuben was in the bath. Lizzie was confused.

‘What's going on?' asked Lizzie.

‘Reuben's got the bug now.'

‘Oh, no. Are you okay, darling?' she said as she crouched down next to the tub.

‘I've got a really sore tummy and stinky poo.'

‘You'll be okay.' Lizzie rubbed his back.

‘How was the movie?'

‘Fantastic. Yeah, really great. That Bill Murray.'

‘You're late.'

‘We got waylaid. You weren't worried, were you?'

‘I never worry about you, Lizzie. Nice ring. Where's it from?'

‘Oh.' Lizzie had forgotten. The ring was on the hand that was rubbing Reuben's back. Looking at it now, she smiled. ‘I bought it. We went to the night market after the movies and I bought this ring. We lost Keith. I hope he makes it home okay.'

‘He'd survive anything, that guy. He's a cat.'

‘A cat?'

‘Nine lives.'

Jim went to bed in the next room with Scarlet and Reuben hopped into the double bed with Lizzie. She could close her eyes and still feel Tom, smell him and taste him. She wasn't sure if it was the happiest night of her life or the saddest.