to shake.
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Rachael.’ Lenny had a kind face with big sad eyes, but I liked him straight away.
‘Did you get a chance to look around? It’s amazing, you know.’
‘No, I just got here.’
‘Come on with me and I’ll introduce you to my wife.’
‘Your wife is here as well?’ I was amazed.
‘Yeah, we both came from Kingston, but I’m here a bit longer than my wife. You’ll have to go easy on her; she’s still having a hard time coming off the crack.’
I followed Lenny through the villa, apprehensive about going any further. We passed Mediterranean-looking huts with straw roof-tops. ‘This is where we live,’ Lenny explained. ‘You can either have your own hut or one of the apartments over there.’
I tagged along after Lenny, jumping over a set of concrete lily-pads set into the grass.
‘That’s where we have therapy,’ he said pointing to an outdoor conservatory, ‘And here’s where we hang out the most.’ The swimming pool. I was impressed. ‘All together, there’s forty acres of land. You can go horse-riding if you want, or play bowling. The alleys are over there.’
I could hear music in the distance. It got louder as we walked towards what appeared to be a restaurant, also outdoor, on stilts. The patients were gathered around the one table as if they were having a meeting. No doubt they’re talking about the man who had just died, I thought. They all seemed very serious. Except one woman who was singing along to the reggae music.
‘ La musica , Rose, por favor ,’ one of the others shouted. Rose ignored them, singing louder this time, doing twirls, with a smile on her face.
‘That’s my wife,’ Lenny said, as he turned down the volume of the music. ‘Everyone, this is Rachael.’ The group glanced at me, nodded and got back to their meeting.
‘What have we got here? A white Rastafarian!’ Rose said, as she took me by the arm. ‘Look at the Robert Marley tattoo on her arm. You’re in the right place, girl.’ And I was, I thought to myself, looking at the swimming pool and the swaying palm trees. This would be more like a holiday than a detox.
At dinner time my mother and Laurence had found me in the restaurant. ‘Well, you seem to be settling in well,’ Laurence said with a smile. Laurence was always cracking jokes about my addiction. I think he found it easier to deal with me in this way.
‘Listen, Rachael, you only have to stay here for three weeks. Myself and Laurence are going back to Ireland, but we’ll come back and collect you then,’ my mother assured me. Out of sight, out of mind again. Why didn’t my mother just talk to me about my drug problem, instead of bringing me to the other side of the earth, I wondered. But I already knew the answer to that. The usual story, except that now I was in a lot more trouble. I needed her now more than ever.
Leaving me in Cuba only fuelled my sense of abandonment and anger. When I go home, I’m gonna go fuckin’ mad. I’ll get her back for this, I pledged to myself. I’ll definitely get her back. Then I began to panic. ‘No, you can’t leave me here on my own!’ They both looked away and I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. ‘I fuckin’ hate you,’ I shouted, as I stormed away from the restaurant.
I wandered aimlessly around the villa, contemplating making some sort of a getaway, when my thoughts were interrupted by a stream of Spanish. ‘ Buenos dias, Racquelita. Me llamo Gregorio . You can call me Greg. Andamos a la casa . We go to the house, ok?’ Smiling, Greg dragged my suitcases into one of the huts. ‘Living room, bathroom, bedroom, ok?’ He gave me a smile and left me alone. I opened the wardrobe and climbed inside. I hunched myself up into the foetal position and cried my heart out.
_____
The time came for my mother and Laurence to go home. I hadn’t spoken to them since we arrived in El Quinque. I hoped that my ma would see sense and change her mind. But she
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Rachael.’ Lenny had a kind face with big sad eyes, but I liked him straight away.
‘Did you get a chance to look around? It’s amazing, you know.’
‘No, I just got here.’
‘Come on with me and I’ll introduce you to my wife.’
‘Your wife is here as well?’ I was amazed.
‘Yeah, we both came from Kingston, but I’m here a bit longer than my wife. You’ll have to go easy on her; she’s still having a hard time coming off the crack.’
I followed Lenny through the villa, apprehensive about going any further. We passed Mediterranean-looking huts with straw roof-tops. ‘This is where we live,’ Lenny explained. ‘You can either have your own hut or one of the apartments over there.’
I tagged along after Lenny, jumping over a set of concrete lily-pads set into the grass.
‘That’s where we have therapy,’ he said pointing to an outdoor conservatory, ‘And here’s where we hang out the most.’ The swimming pool. I was impressed. ‘All together, there’s forty acres of land. You can go horse-riding if you want, or play bowling. The alleys are over there.’
I could hear music in the distance. It got louder as we walked towards what appeared to be a restaurant, also outdoor, on stilts. The patients were gathered around the one table as if they were having a meeting. No doubt they’re talking about the man who had just died, I thought. They all seemed very serious. Except one woman who was singing along to the reggae music.
‘ La musica , Rose, por favor ,’ one of the others shouted. Rose ignored them, singing louder this time, doing twirls, with a smile on her face.
‘That’s my wife,’ Lenny said, as he turned down the volume of the music. ‘Everyone, this is Rachael.’ The group glanced at me, nodded and got back to their meeting.
‘What have we got here? A white Rastafarian!’ Rose said, as she took me by the arm. ‘Look at the Robert Marley tattoo on her arm. You’re in the right place, girl.’ And I was, I thought to myself, looking at the swimming pool and the swaying palm trees. This would be more like a holiday than a detox.
At dinner time my mother and Laurence had found me in the restaurant. ‘Well, you seem to be settling in well,’ Laurence said with a smile. Laurence was always cracking jokes about my addiction. I think he found it easier to deal with me in this way.
‘Listen, Rachael, you only have to stay here for three weeks. Myself and Laurence are going back to Ireland, but we’ll come back and collect you then,’ my mother assured me. Out of sight, out of mind again. Why didn’t my mother just talk to me about my drug problem, instead of bringing me to the other side of the earth, I wondered. But I already knew the answer to that. The usual story, except that now I was in a lot more trouble. I needed her now more than ever.
Leaving me in Cuba only fuelled my sense of abandonment and anger. When I go home, I’m gonna go fuckin’ mad. I’ll get her back for this, I pledged to myself. I’ll definitely get her back. Then I began to panic. ‘No, you can’t leave me here on my own!’ They both looked away and I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. ‘I fuckin’ hate you,’ I shouted, as I stormed away from the restaurant.
I wandered aimlessly around the villa, contemplating making some sort of a getaway, when my thoughts were interrupted by a stream of Spanish. ‘ Buenos dias, Racquelita. Me llamo Gregorio . You can call me Greg. Andamos a la casa . We go to the house, ok?’ Smiling, Greg dragged my suitcases into one of the huts. ‘Living room, bathroom, bedroom, ok?’ He gave me a smile and left me alone. I opened the wardrobe and climbed inside. I hunched myself up into the foetal position and cried my heart out.
_____
The time came for my mother and Laurence to go home. I hadn’t spoken to them since we arrived in El Quinque. I hoped that my ma would see sense and change her mind. But she
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