I laughed. ‘It’s that fruit there.’
‘It’s a durian, isn’t it?’ he said, making a disgusted face.
‘You like fruit, don’t you? Try it,’ I urged with a cheeky grin.
‘No thanks.’
‘Chicken shit,’ I taunted.
He crossed his arms. ‘Have you tried it?’
‘No she hasn’t,’ Rosli piped up. He was sucking the flesh off the fruit and grinning from ear to ear at the same time.
I shot Rosli an ugly glance.
‘Right,’ Ivan said in a voice slower than a bread wagon with biscuit wheels.
I squirmed uncomfortably.
‘I’ll have it if you have it too,’ he challenged with a devilish look.
I took a deep breath. Oh shit. I pretended to be unconcerned. ‘Sure.’
He bent down to pick up one of the fruit halves and held it up to me. Immediately, the pungent smell of something in the late stages of rotting mixed with smelly socks filled my nostrils making me want to gag. I tried hard not to jerk back. ‘Well, we have to do it together,’ I said.
‘All right, but you have to swallow.’
‘Ha, ha,’ I said.
He took one piece and I took another. I held my nose with the fingers of my left hand and prepared to put it into my mouth.
‘At the count of three,’ he said.
‘I’m ready.’
Rosli was happily chewing and watching us curiously.
‘One, two, three …’
I stuffed it into my mouth and my eyes bulged. It was like eating rotten mushroom. Slimy and disintegrating on my tongue. Horrible. Just horrible. Both of us looked at each and then both of us spat it out at the exact same time.
Rosli was rolling on the sand with laughter as we raced to the water’s edge and rinsed out our mouths with saltwater.
‘Oh my God! That was vile,’ I cried as we both erupted into laughter. While he laughed I looked at him. The sun had already browned him. His eyes were full of warmth and he looked so relaxed and happy. If only he could always be like that.
That evening we went to watch a nest of turtle eggs hatching. If at all possible I never missed one of those. I had seen twenty-five so far, and every single time I saw those tiny little turtles scramble out of their nest and start running out to sea, I felt as if I had received a blessing. The other volunteers had also turned up. It was the culmination of all their work, seeing those babies hatch, and watching their mad dash to the sea.
Rosli gently caught a baby turtle and put it into Ivan’s cupped palms. I saw him look in wonder at the little thing squirming in his hands for all it was worth.
I knew exactly how he felt. The first time I held one in my palm I almost cried because I knew it would probably not make it to adulthood, but I prayed it would anyway. That it would come back to Penyu Island and carry on the cycle of its evolution. I felt such a great love and sense of responsibility for it. Its little legs were hard and covered in sand and they thrashed on my palm. It kept craning its little neck towards the sea as if it could hear it or smell it.
Ivan looked up at me, his face and eyes shining.
‘He’s gorgeous,’ isn’t he?’ I said.
‘Gorgeous,’ he repeated.
Very gently, Ivan held his palm close to the sand and the little creature raced out.
‘Good luck little fellow,’ I called out watching them race towards the sea. To my surprise Ivan took my hand.
‘So you liked him,’ he said softly.
‘I’m more fond of him than I am of you,’ I replied.
His eyes sparkled with laughter. ‘You’re in so much trouble,’ he warned.
‘You best know that we’re going to have matching caskets,’ I promised.
He bent his head to my ear and whispered, ‘I’d love to put you into one of those pregnancy stirrups, your cunt open, wet and ready for me. I’d shove my tongue into you and lick you for hours.’
‘Trust you to think that pregnancy stirrups could be even remotely sexy.’
‘Even mud is sexy if you’re in the equation.’
‘I think I prefer Jell-O,’ I said.
He laughed and his face softened. ‘I’m proud of you, Tawny Greystoke,’ he said suddenly and squeezed my hand.
I was so surprised by his remark that I looked up at him, grinning stupidly. At that moment I was the happiest woman alive.
It was beautiful on the beach. The moon was full, the air was filled with the soothing sound of the waves, the wind in the leaves, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh as Ivan pumped into me. Oh and of course, my own moans and whimpers of pleasure. I drew my knees back as far as I could to open myself up more for him and then experimentally squeezed him tight. He began to move harder, faster, more urgently.