Page 43 of The One Day You Were My Husband
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. All I have to go on is a stressy voicemail.”
“OK. I…wow. Is that why you brought me here?”
Johan frowned. “Sort of. Although it was a bad choice. I forget these places are just as full of tourists as anywhere else.”
“It’s OK. You panicked. I’m sure I’d have come up with an even more harebrained scheme.”
He smiled gratefully.
“Is he shady too, do you think? The fixer?”
Johan shook his head. “Oh, no. I mean, you could argue he’s a bit shady if he’s paying bribes, but that’s just how it goes out there. He’s trusted by all the aid agencies. And he’s just a sound guy. I really like him.”
“So…?”
“So I’m worried that they’re threatening him, I suppose. I just didn’t like how freaked out he sounded.”
He ran a hand through his hair, watching a man negotiate with a sex worker. “And for what it’s worth, Carrie, you’re right. This area is not ‘interesting.’ It’s just sex. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“It’s OK.”
“I should have just told you everything in the first place.”
“Alwaystell me,” I said. I took his hands in mine. “I’m surprised you didn’t.”
Johan watched me for a while, then pulled up a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I just—it’s your first time here. Your first time traveling anywhere this far. I didn’t want to…”
“I’m not a child,” I said. “Johan, I’ve watched people’s organs shut down. Seen them bleed out and die. I had to save the life of a man who’d done an unforgivable thing just a few weeks ago. And yes, I’ve been too focused on my career to travel a great deal, but that does not make me unworldly. I really don’t need protecting.”
“I know.”
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” I said. “We can get a good sleep and start over tomorrow.”
Johan studied me for a few more seconds, then nodded. “Thank you,” he said. He leaned in and kissed me, then hugged me, hard. “I love you, Carrie.”
We went back to our room, had another shower, and checked emailsbefore going down for food. Mum had emailed Johan to check all was well, in the absence of any contact from me—although really, I think she had simply developed a crush on him, like everyone else, and was enjoying the contact. Mum seldom worried about my whereabouts.
More importantly, Johan had had a text from his fixer. “It’s all OK,” he said, reading fast. “It’s all…Hang on…”
I went over and read the message over his shoulder.
Hi mate,it began.Thanks for your message and please don’t worry—I deal with this sort of thing every day. Thankfully the guy in question has left me out of his show-and-tell, which is great. It was all getting a bit hairy! I’ve got you all properly sorted now; you’ll be covered by new permits from Sept 17th onward, so take a few extra days enjoying Thailand with your girlfriend. And no, nothing else to worry about.
“There it is,” Johan said. I felt him relax as he read and reread the message, then tossed his phone onto the bed. “And I knew it, really. I’m just the guy hoovering the seafloor.”
I told Mum I was fine so she wouldn’t email Johan again, then changed my flights to make use of the unexpected extra few days Johan had before his new permit started.
Then we went downstairs and drank cocktails, delirious with heat and tiredness and the relief of reconnection. There was to be no rain for three days, a Czech engineer told us. He was off to Koh Tao for a few days’ diving.
“How about it?” Johan said, later on. “You could get your open water certificate. The diving’s incredible around there.”
And I said yes without hesitation, because that was the kind of person I was becoming.
Fourteen.
Across the sea from the little bungalow resort we’d booked on Koh Samui was an uninhabited island. I never asked the staff what it was called; details never matter when you’re happy. But it’s this island my mind returns to when it strays back to that time. To sunlight stippled across its dense trees, rainstorms battering it before coming over to batter us. It was the last thing I saw before I left the morning after Johan was taken.
We’d booked a few days on Koh Samui before taking the ferry up to Koh Tao to dive. After two days lazing on the beach I arranged for us to go over and explore the island opposite. The owner of the bungalows, Mandi, a German woman who’d recently left behind her finance career to buy this resort, had asked me if she could tag along. She’d only been running the place for two months and had not taken any time off. I’d hesitated before saying yes. Mandi had yet to stop talking since we’d arrived, and had even followed me into the meditation hut when I’d slid off there for some peace. But I saw many elements of mysister in this impulsive, adventurous woman with poor social boundaries, and of course Johan was never bothered by anyone. So I said yes.
