Dirty Aristocrat

In two hours we were at the jetty. It was already five in the evening. There were other boats full of tourists coming back from their island holiday. We were the only ones going out to

it. Penyu Island was a small and remote island 45 minutes by boat from the eastern coast of Malaysia. The ride was scenic, we passed other islands mostly built up and full of tourists.

Finally, we came to Penyu, and my heart did a little skip of joy at the familiar sight.

The boat stopped at the jetty. The water was so crystal clear that you could see the grains of white sand at the bottom. I turned to Ivan and my breath caught. The wind had ruffled his

hair and the sun was shining on his face. God, it was distracting to be with a man who was such a sight for sore eyes. I wanted to push my fingers through his hair.

I suddenly remembered seeing him at the cemetery for Robert’s funeral. Then too, his hair had been ruffled by the wind, but he had seemed so distant, so unreachable. A cold, unknowable

stranger in a cold, bleak landscape. So much had happened since then. That time seemed like part of an unhappy dream.

‘Like it?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s phenomenal to find a place so unspoilt.’

‘Come on. I’ll take you to the house first. The sanctuary is on the other side of the island.’

I jumped into the water.

‘What’s the jetty for?’ he asked with a laugh.

‘It’s more fun this way.’

So he dropped into the water with me and we waded to shore laughing.

Rosli, one of the four permanent staff on the island, picked up our bags and hauled them onto the wooden platform.

‘I take the bags to the house,’ he said with a wide grin.

‘Thanks,’ I said, and he jumped next to the bags with the agility of a monkey. He was soon nearly halfway up the beach. It was the most wonderful sensation to feel my feet sinking into

wet sand again. For a moment I felt a pang of sadness. I will never come here with Robert again.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ivan asked.

I shook my head. ‘Nothing.’

He turned towards me and took my small hands in his large ones. ‘You miss him don’t you?’

I looked up at him, trying my best not to cry, but tears filled my eyes. ‘All the time.’

‘Hey,’ he said gruffly and pulled me against his chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffed.

‘It’s OK. I know you loved him … in your own way.’

I smiled at him. ‘Yes, I did. I really did.’

He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears from my cheek.

Then I took his hand and led him up the beach as we walked to the house.

We climbed the stone steps to the front door as Rosli was coming down.

‘I’ll be on the other side of the island if you need me,’ he said.

‘Thanks, Rosli,’ I said again as he waved and went his way.

I looked at Ivan. He was gazing at the tall bamboo trees that surrounded the house and bent over it, their leaves leaning down to touch the roof and walls.

‘Come on,’ I said skipping up the steps. I stood at the threshold of a large rectangular living space nestled among the trees. There were no walls, just a sandstone floor and old

ironwood posts to hold up a thatched roof. It had an open floor plan with low sofas, a coffee table, a dining area, and at the back end, a kitchen. I turned around to watch Ivan’s

reaction. He looked at his surroundings then back again at me.

‘No walls?’ he asked looking at balustrades made from matted coconut leaves that edged the space.

I shook my head. ‘No walls,’ I confirmed.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Interesting.’

‘It’s a great way to maximize the outdoor living experience. We wanted to be able to see the sea from wherever we stood inside the house.’

‘Must be a job keeping the elements and the mosquitoes from the forest out? How do you do it?’

‘You can say that again. It’s a full time job getting rid of the leaves flying around. I’m afraid nature is constantly trying to regain its ground.’ I grinned. ‘There are ferns growing

out of the wood in the kitchen, we have bee holes in some of the teak wood, and it is a nightmare with spiders.’

I pointed towards the rolled-up blinds.

‘At night we pull down those white nets you see over there. When there is no one here, wood panels are fitted into those slots to weatherproof it.’

Ivan walked away from me and stood by one of the posts looking down. He turned around to look at me with surprise on his face. ‘This house is hanging over a river-valley.’

‘Do you like it?’ I asked breathlessly. I don’t know why it seemed so important that this powerfully contained, beautiful being should approve of my dream holiday home.