This Way to Paradise by Cathy Hopkins Page B

had built a fire and a bunch of musicians were seated around it – some strumming guitars, others playing congas. A few girls in bikini tops and sarongs were messing about, half dancing to the music and half limbo-ing, while a bunch of teenage boys sat and ogled them.
    â€˜It all looks very organised,’ I said to Kate as we looked around. ‘Look, there are even portaloos over there behind the stage.’
    She nodded. ‘Yeah. It feels more rock festival than beach party. I guess it’s a regular thing out here and why not, hey? They’ve certainly got the locations.’
    We found ourselves a patch of sand a short distance from the stage and Robin got out our supplies. He was about to offer me some vodka but pulled back.‘Oops, forgot. Miss Goodytwoshoes.’
    I took the bottle from him.
Maybe it’s what I need tonight to loosen up,
I thought, taking a swig. ‘Thanks.’
    Robin looked pleased. ‘Good girl,’ he said.
    Kate sat snuggled into Tom as the music got going and Robin acted as waiter for the evening, bringing us fish kebabs, peppers and rice from the food stall and keeping us supplied with drinks from our bags. He was so attentive and sweet that I felt bad having given him the brush off earlier.
It must be hard for boyshaving to make the first move, especially when you have a really goodlooking mate like Tom who gets first look in with girls,
I thought, as I watched the sky become a riot of colour – orange, red and purple – turning to translucent turquoise and navy as the sun went down.
    â€˜My dad loves sunsets,’ I said at one point when Robin and Tom went off to get more beers.
    â€˜Me too,’ said Kate as she lay back on her elbows.
    â€˜This is his favourite time of day.“God’s masterpiece work of art,” he’d say. Every morning, every evening different.’
    â€˜Are you missing him? Them?’ Kate asked.
    â€˜Nah. Not really,’ I replied. For a moment, though, I did feel an ache of homesickness. Dad and I’d watched so many sunsets together all over the world. ‘Same old sun wherever you are,’ he’d say. I wondered how the sky looked where he was this evening and if he would even get to see any of it or if he was already at work, playing the piano in front of an audience. And I wondered if he ever thought of me.
    As the evening went on, everyone seemed in a mellow mood and the feeling of discomfort that I’d had earlier melted away in the glow of the fire and the vodka that Robin kept passing my way.
    When the light had gone completely and the sky was velvet black, Tom and Kate took off down the beach as did a number of lovey-dovey couples. Others around the fire seemed to be eyeing each other up, dancing, swaying to the music. I kept aneye out for Joe in the hope that he might be there but there was no sign. There was one cute boy, though, with surfer-blond hair who checked me out at one point when I got up to go to the portaloo, but I didn’t hold eye contact with him. I’d had enough of confusing signals for one day.
    When Robin went to sit nearer the fire and watch the dancing girls, I got up, walked a short distance down the beach and then went to sit closer to the sea. I was feeling light-headed from the vodka and thought,
I mustn’t wander too far – it does look pitch black further along the beach.
I lay down on the cool damp sand and looked up at the sky. I felt all my senses come into sharp focus as I lay there. The smell of the salty air, the aroma of barbecued fish and wood wafting along from the fire, the pungent scent of seaweed, sweat and suntan lotion. As I stared up in the sky, more and more stars began to appear. Like silver dots popping into the black. Pop. Pop. Pop. More and more appeared. Behind me were the sounds of the party, the congas, voices, but where I was felt quieter, with only the gentle lapping of the sea at the water’s edge.
    I must have