Destination India (19 page)

Strangely, sharing a room with a man I barely knew didn’t feel that odd. I guess because the only way I could feel in danger at being in such close proximity with him was death by awkward silence. I brushed my teeth and got into bed, which was actually a lot comfier than it looked, and turned out the small night light.

‘Louise … Mnnnnnmm.’

‘What, Chris?’ I whispered before realising that he was sleep talking. Great. Next he’d be snoring.

‘Business. OK, I’ll write it. OK.’

Sounds like someone needed to lay off the cheese before bed. I popped in a pair of ear plugs and promptly fell asleep.

Delectation (n.) Delight; enjoyment

‘Happy Holi!!’

Nihal and Ameera were running down the beach clutching carrier bags under their arms and laughing together. After the last few days everyone had needed to catch up on some proper undisturbed sleep so we had had a lazy morning doing absolutely nothing. Most of the group had assembled in the restaurant, enjoying a late brunch, playing cards and lying on the multi-coloured hammocks reading.

‘Guys! Happy Holi!’ Ameera gushed, laughing at Nihal dancing around the table before sitting down to join us. ‘Today is the festival of colours and of love, so you need to change into white clothes. We picked up a few T-shirts that you can wear if you didn’t bring anything and then let the celebrations begin!’

‘This is Holi paint.’ Nihal held up sandwich bags filled with bright electric-coloured reds, blues, oranges, neon yellows and acid pink powders.

‘Powder?’ Bex asked. ‘Thought this was a paint festival? You’re not going to decorate your walls with that.’

‘Ah ha! We mix these powders with water to create a paste which is then splattered and thrown over everyone!’ Ameera was giddy with excitement and passed out bags to everyone.

Soon it was a carnival of colour. The streets filled with people who looked like they’d been gunged on Nickelodeon. Small, giggling, skinny boys raced around with water pistols aiming at anyone and anything that stood in their path, including street dogs that barked and chased the spurts of brightly coloured water streaking the hot ground.

‘Water bombs!!’ Bex cried, dashing around and chucking what looked more like condoms filled with colour than small balloons.

A noisy but melodic banging of drums grew louder as a street procession of men and boys proudly chanted a lively song whilst marching through the small village. Their eyelashes were covered in a fine dusting of green paint, their hair was matted to their heads under the dye and their arms were splodged with Monet-style coloured blotches.

‘As the full moon approaches, spring arrives and the air is filled with possibility. It is a time to heal broken relationships and forget and forgive the past,’ Nihal explained as seriously as he could, even though he looked like he had emerged from a chemical explosion under the riot of dust, chalk and colours. ‘This is why we were very keen to be here in time to celebrate Holi with you guys. Perfect for the Lonely Hearts Travel Club as you can move into the new phase feeling lighter, happier and ready to find love again! There is power in the powder.’

I felt so carefree, forgetting that I was meant to be this professional businesswoman undercover as a backpacker as I dabbed, smeared and threw handfuls of the soft powdery paint over anyone and everyone. These Hindus were onto something with this festival. Out with the old and in with the new; it was like a good spring clean but, you know, messier and a load more fun. The whole village was in high spirits acting like big kids for the day; no one was exempt, even the huddle of grandmas who sat with their swollen
feet on wooden stools were soon raising their varicose-veined arms in the air and getting covered in colour as they chuckled.

Once all our paint had been used up we traipsed back to the huts, taking selfies of how ridiculous we looked.

‘Oi, Chris, take our photo! Smile, Louise!’ Bex shouted as Chris nodded and brandished his prized camera towards us. I scrunched my messy face into a big smile and put my thumbs up. ‘Right now let’s get a group shot.’ She placed her chubby arm over Nihal’s shoulders, pulled the big clan of us into the mix and made Chris pass his phone to a kind stranger wandering past to take the photo. ‘Say Happy Holi!’

‘Happy Holi!’ we all cheered.

A few hours later, as the sun had said goodnight and the bright full moon watched over us, we commanded yellow and green three-wheeled auto rickshaws to get us out of the village and into the hills. We were on our way to Leopard Valley, a big Holi party in the jungle that was set to carry on all night long. I’d skilfully avoided sharing a taxi with Chris, who had somehow managed to stay impeccably clean compared to the rest of us who were still in our paint-splattered clothes. Instead Ollie called me over to ride with him to the party. The smiling driver was pleased to have business and not in the least bit bothered that we would be smearing his seats with paint.

‘You don’t want to sit with Liz?’ I asked, ducking my head to get into the back of the tuk-tuk and sinking onto springy, ripped leather seats.

Ollie got in, his knees almost touching his chin. ‘So, you’ve worked out that I like her then?’ He looked bashfully at the string of beads dangling from the rear-view mirror that began clicking as we careered forward.

‘Ollie.’ I turned to face him. ‘Everyone knows you like Liz. Well, everyone apart from Liz, and maybe Bex,’ I added.

He placed his head in his hands. ‘Right, well … But you don’t think Liz knows?’

I shook my head. ‘I think Liz has been too caught up worrying that the tour group might turn on her because of that secret she shared yesterday.’

‘I still can’t believe that!’ Ollie blurted out in shock. ‘Obviously I don’t condone cheating but I would never in a million years have said that she would be the one to do … that.’

‘Yeah well, they do say it’s always the quiet ones.’ I smiled and grabbed hold of the seat in front as we practically zoomed around a tight bend on one wheel. ‘But if you don’t have a problem with that, with, erm, her needs …’ I trailed off feeling quite uncomfortable discussing Liz and Ollie’s potential sex life. It suddenly felt very hot in the tuk-tuk.

Ollie looked as embarrassed as I was as he gazed out of his dusty window, seemingly transfixed by what was going on outside. ‘Yeah. Well, you know. I like a challenge.’

‘Great!’ I said way too overexcitedly. ‘Erm, great. So just talk to her; ask her to spend the day just you two. I’m sure Nihal wouldn’t mind if you snuck off – in fact I bet he’d be happy to give you some tips on romantic places you could go.’

‘Mmm,’ Ollie mumbled, flicking some paint from his thumbnail. ‘But Louise …’

‘Yeah?’

‘What if I can’t, you know … perform.’ He looked so distraught and vulnerable I tried to supress a laugh. Instead I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

‘Ollie, she would be mad to miss out on going out with you. Don’t overthink it, all right?’

He nodded and then unexpectedly gave me a quick hug. I felt the eyes of the tuk-tuk driver focus on us through the rear-view mirror.

‘Thanks, Louise; I mean it. I’m so pleased you’re on this tour.’ He let me go and grinned that cheeky wide smile of his. Liz would be insane to resist that.

‘Thanks, me too,’ I said genuinely. ‘What have you got to lose? You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.’

‘OK, Leopard Valley!’ the tuk-tuk driver exclaimed breaking up our heart to heart, as we pulled into a busy car park.

The rest of the group were waiting by a large sign for us. The banging baseline of the DJ set was pounding through the stillness of the lush, green palm leaves surrounding us.

‘Usually in Goa there are strict noise pollution laws that mean any outdoor entertainment has a ten p.m. curfew,’ Nihal was explaining to the others as Ollie and I made our way over after paying the driver. ‘But as it’s Holi all the rules go out of the window!’ He laughed.

‘For those who can’t handle the pace then tuk-tuks will be running all night from here if you want to leave early to get your beauty sleep.’ Ameera flashed a quick and unsubtle look at Chris. ‘For the rest of you party animals the fun won’t stop until late. We’ve got you some more paint packs so go wild and enjoy this wonderful festival.’ She passed out more sandwich bags filled with multi-coloured powder and headed down the winding path marked with flaming torches to get deeper into the jungle rave.

Outrageously dressed performers energetically moved their lithe bodies to the beat on raised, glittering podiums. One man was breathing fire as we wandered past and two girls were axle grinding and smiling serenely, as if grating sparks from their vaginas was totally normal. Hundreds of clubbers, made up of locals, backpackers and expats danced to the electro music, their colourful marbled bodies lit up under the bright strobe lights. This was unlike any party I’d ever been to before.

I’d never got into the raving scene when I was younger as I was much too paranoid that I’d get my drink spiked, jittery that a fight would break out, and not to mention the mind-numbing boredom of spending half your night waiting in the queue to the ladies’ loos. Marie and I used to prefer spending our Saturday nights going on bar crawls or having pre-drinks at home, which usually never amounted to us actually going out as I’d be holding back Marie’s flaming red locks as she made out with the toilet bowl.

It was like walking through a cloud of smoke,
Stars in Their
Eyes-style, trying to get to the bar. Colourful puffs of powder came at you from every direction.

‘Hey, what we drinking?’ a smiling barman wearing a bandana and neon dots peppering his wide eyes asked.

‘I’ll get these,’ Ollie shouted over the baseline to me.

‘Ah cheers! I’ll have a beer, please.’

‘Coming right up!’ The barman sprinkled some powder onto his open palm and leant down to blow it away as if he was sprinkling fairy dust.

With some Dutch courage inside him Ollie turned to face me. ‘Right. I’m going to talk to Liz. To tell her that I like her.’ He tensed his arms looking ready to go into battle. ‘As Nihal said, today is about new beginnings. I can do this.’

I patted him on the shoulder getting my palm covered in apple-green powder. ‘Go for it. You’ve got this.’

He nodded and sniffed his pits before stomping off to find his fair maiden; I just hoped he’d be able to recognise her under all this paint.

‘So, you having fun?’ Nihal half danced, half jumped over to me and leant his arm on the bar.

‘Yeah! This is wild!’ I laughed, pointing at the energetic crowd of ravers who were bowing down, tooting whistles and waving glow sticks at the guy spinning the decks. ‘After Mumbai and Delhi this was
just
what I needed.’

‘It’s the least I can do to thank you for bringing my love back to me.’ He paused to wave at Ameera who was swaying gracefully in the corner with Flic. She was wearing a full-length skirt, the colour-splattered fabric seemingly dancing all on its own. ‘We are so grateful, Georgia.’ He quickly checked no one was nearby to hear him slipping up. ‘I mean Louise,’ he said louder.

‘I didn’t do anything.’ I blushed.

‘OK, now less talking and more dancing, Miss Green!’ Nihal laughed and pulled me by the hand away from the safety of the bar to join him and Ameera.

As the DJ blasted out ‘Shake it off’ remixed with a bhangra beat, which was a lot better than it sounds, the whole place erupted. If there had been a roof it surely would have blown off. It was one of those moments when I needed to take a minute to let it all sink in. That I was sweaty, covered in paint, dancing like no one was watching in the middle of an Indian jungle during Holi festival, on a tour that my own business had organised. Wow.

‘Just going to find the ladies’!’ I shouted over to Ameera who nodded.

Moving away from the sticky heat of the packed dance floor I wandered through the trees to find the bathroom. A chill-out area under a vine-covered veranda had been set up nearby. Blissed-out backpackers sat on enormous beanbags, lazily smoking shisha pipes and chinking their bottles of beer, acting as if they weren’t sat metres away from an Indian full-moon party.

‘Happy Holi!’ a girl with a blonde pixie haircut cheerfully said to me as I washed my hands at the sink.

I did a double take; she could have been Shelley’s twin with her smattering of freckles on her neat nose and playful green eyes. She frowned at me for staring at her in what must have been a very odd way. Seeing Shelley’s
doppelgänger, I was reminded that I had survived this far without my dear friend; those anxieties I’d felt racing through Manchester airport so I wouldn’t miss my flight sans Shelley had all but vanished. I had done it; I had lasted this long and everything was absolutely fine.

‘Err, yeah, sorry! Happy Holi!’ I grinned at the girl who nodded and quickly made her exit.

I swerved my way round three Indian men who were wobbling up the path and went to find the others, laughing as I ducked past a young girl, no older than seven, who was covered in colourful paint. Her shiny, almost-black eyes were creased in enjoyment as she mischievously sprinkled powder on anyone who walked past her before shrieking when they clocked her.

‘Hey, guys, anyone fancy a drink?’ I asked half dancing up to Ollie, Bex and Liz who were crowded around Chris and his mobile phone screen.

They all ignored me.

‘Guys?!’ I said louder.

Slowly they looked up at me with a mix of disgust, annoyance and sadness on their colourful faces.

‘What’s wrong?’

Glancing down at Chris’s phone I felt like someone had chucked an ice cube down my T-shirt. The cold sobering realisation of what I’d tried to keep hidden was being played out right before my eyes.

Verisimilitude (n.) The appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability

Taking centre stage on Chris’s iPhone screen was a clip of Ben and me in our shop. It was a short video that he’d encouraged me to do so we could use it in publicity for the business, even though I hated being in front of the camera. I’d worried that my voice had sounded manly, that my under-eye bags were very prominent, and that I should have gone to the hairdresser’s before filming.

God, I looked different.

That had been only a few weeks ago and still, seeing my tired eyes, wiry hair and hearing my hoarse, exhausted voice, I felt like I didn’t recognise myself. Although, right now hearing my shrill laughter and even a silly jingle that one of Ben’s mates had created competing with the booming bhangra beat, my appearance online was the least of my worries.

‘Where did you find that?’ I asked Chris boldly, feeling my bottom lip wobbling and heat coursing through me.

‘So, Georgia Green: heartbroken backpacker, aka businesswoman and founder of this whole tour group,’ Chris said sharply. The rest of them just gawped at me, waiting for me to say something.

‘Is this really you, Louise?’ Liz asked, her eyes filling with tears. ‘You’re the boss of this whole company? You’re not here as a backpacker like us?’

I felt sick. Words just weren’t coming out so I simply nodded my head, wishing Chris would turn the bloody footage off. Other members of the group had come over to see what was going on, peering over Chris’s shoulders to watch the clip and then snapping their heads up at me, a confused look on their faces. Chris looked like he was lapping this up, finally being centre of attention; you could see the power this was giving his ego and it made me want to vomit.

‘Louise? You’re Georgia?’ Bex stuttered. For once she seemed lost for words.

I could feel their eyes boring into me, the music was making my head spin, the paint was making me feel itchy and uncomfortable, and the merriment I’d been feeling just ten minutes earlier had evaporated into a puddle of sweat at my feet.

‘Wait, so what … you lied to us?’ Ollie was standing just inches away from me, his whole body tense as if he wanted to punch me.

I lamely nodded once more.

‘I can’t believe this. I thought you were one of us,’ he seethed. I noticed that he had his arm around Liz’s shoulders that were juddering in the disco-ball lights.

‘I am!’ I pleaded.

The only people missing from this
coup d’état
were Nihal and Ameera; I glanced around desperate to find them, knowing that they’d stick up for me. But in the sea of painted faces I couldn’t spot them.

‘Oh yeah right, so this hasn’t been some sort of weird experiment, some undercover boss challenge just to feed back to head office on how you can improve sales or some crap like that,’ Ollie spat.

I hadn’t realised he could get this mad. Bex just shook her head in disappointment before she stalked off.

‘Bex, wait! Ollie, listen! You really are making this out to be worse than it seems. Yes, I created the tours, yes, I own the business, but I was also heartbroken, I understand how much this pain fucking hurts. But also how it can get better.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You really expect me to be sympathetic when you’re over here spying on us before you return home to your mansion, using our break-up stories to sell more tours? Getting us to open up to you, not because you care, but because it was just a box-ticking exercise. I can’t believe you lied to us, Louise … Georgia, or whatever your fucking name is! I trusted you.’ His whole face was shaking, his voice breaking slightly as it was forced out through his clenched jaw.

‘I wish I had a bloody mansion!’ I scoffed, then realised that wasn’t the point. I softened my tone. ‘Ollie, please. I did tell a few white lies: I do own the business but I have also been heartbroken. I wasn’t planning on coming on this tour to spy on you; it was only because I thought Nihal had been having a rough time that I dropped everything back home – in my tiny flat, can I add – to make sure all of you experienced the tour of India that you deserved.’ I was crying now; frustrated tears streaked with the mess of paint on my face.

‘Well you sure made it one we won’t forget,’ he said, dryly.

‘I know and I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be like this. All I wanted was to help you get through your break-up. All of you.’ I looked around for one friendly, understanding face in the tinted tribe before me.

‘Yeah, well, if you’re such a relationship expert then you’ll know just how difficult it is to trust again.’ With that
he stormed off past me, kicking up a cloud of dust as he went and taking Liz with him. ‘Ollie, wait, please!’ I turned to face the others who had also stomped off, leaving just me and Chris standing face to face.

‘You didn’t have to do that!’ I said.

‘I didn’t do anything.’ He placed his hand on his chest smugly. Bastard. ‘I simply thought the others should know that they were unwittingly involved in some naff undercover boss experiment.’

I gritted my teeth. ‘It wasn’t an experiment.’

Chris sighed and finally put his bloody phone away, before nodding slowly as if listening to a small child explaining the theories of life. ‘Mmm. OK. Well, Miss Green, I mean, Boss, will you please excuse me?’ He too then sauntered off, leaving me stood alone, humiliated and upset on the dance floor.

I’d fled the jungle rave, taken a tuk-tuk back to the huts by myself and gone for a long walk down the empty beach. Kicking up sand between my feet, I chucked any random pebbles I could find into the dark waves and watched their ripples illuminated by the bright stars popping from the cloak of darkness. I had to stop myself jumping in and swimming far away from here. I’d fucked this up. I should never have come here. These people had trusted me, opened up to me and expected me to be just like them, not a fraud, a fake, a pathetic businesswoman who had just been burning herself out trying to make a success of the Lonely Hearts Travel Club.

But things had been looking up. The last two days were the happiest I’d felt in a long time, probably since I was last in Thailand hanging out with the original Lonely Hearts Travel Club crew and Ben and Jimmy. We’d spent so many evenings on a secluded perfect beach just like this one, larking about, putting the world to rights and letting
off Chinese lanterns with handwritten wishes tacked on. Well, none of those wishes had come true.

I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh. Marie wasn’t talking to me, Ben seemed to be coping fine without me and the guests here – some of whom had become friends – wanted me to fuck the fuck off. Watching the woman I had been in that short video, it was no wonder Ben hadn’t shown the slightest bit of interest in me. I had looked a mess.

I had been a mess. I still was a mess. And I didn’t have the faintest idea of how I was going to fix this.