Chapter Thirty Six

28.6.26

July 2003

I feel ill on the flight to New Zealand. The chicken they serve for dinner makes me gag. I have to drink bottle after bottle of water to avoid throwing up.

At the airport a sniffer dog goes crazy round my backpack. I have to open it up, pulling out all my clothes. I'm glad I did my washing before I left. There's nothing illegal in there. The woman with the dog- is she police or a customs official, I don't know- asks about what I've had in my bag. We establish the dog must be smelling orange peel I put on top of my backpack while eating the day before.

I book a ticket on the Kiwi Experience bus that will take me round both islands and a flight from Christchurch that will take me to Auckland in time for my flight to Hawaii.

I email Steve and tell him about my flight, my plans. He jokes that he sewed heroin into my backpack and I can pass it to his friend Neil when I get to Heathrow. Neil, his one black friend. I feel a sense of disgust at Steve for making that joke.

He tells me not to shag too many kiwis, it'll be a long time till we see each other again.

Why is he saying that? Is that his way of telling me he's sleeping with other people? We never spoke about what would happen when we parted. I assumed we'd stay faithful to each other. He told me he loved me. Why would he want anyone else?

Who is he sleeping with?

Samantha? No she's too young, too stupid, too fat.

Diana? Another woman from the hostel in Perth. She's twenty eight, like him. She's from Essex, where he lived with his ex girlfriend. She's polished with straight hair and perfect makeup. Not like me with my uncontrollable frizzy hair and minimal makeup I barely bother to wear. I try not to picture him kissing her, laughing at me.

I lie in my bed in the dorm at night, Joy Division's Love Will Tear Us Apart playing over and over in my head.

In the morning as I board the Kiwi Experience bus a sense of freedom fills me. It's cold but the sun is bright in the sky.

Miles of sea separate me from Steve. From Nick and Adam. I'm in a country where no man has hurt me. It doesn't matter what Steve does. I don't love him. I don't need him. Maybe now the grip of his teeth in my neck will loosen. Maybe that black eye will fade into the shadows.

I put my hand on my stomach, feel the bulge that won't go, think of the blood that still hasn't come.

Maybe I do need Steve.