water off his forehead. She caught him staring at her wet T-shirt then he quickly glanced away.
‘It’s very magical.’ She smiled up at him, breathing in the sweet woody smell of the burning incense.
‘Knew you’d love it, but time to get some food – right? There’s a new tasting menu at Ginger I want to try out.’
As she was getting out of the water, she was aware of Johnny’s eyes on her. What would he think of her? She glanced quickly backwards. ‘Hey, what you looking at?’ she tutted at him self-consciously.
‘Looks fine to me.’ He grinned at her as she quickly turned and walked to the cubicles. As she changed again, she checked her phone in her money belt. There was a text from Ed.
Where are you?
Should she say she was with Johnny? That did seem an odd thing to say. But why would she hide it? A range of emotions swept over her, from defiance (I can do what I want, surely?) to anxiety – was Ed all right?
She quickly texted back:
With Johnny – testing out new restaurant in Ubud. U OK?
Ed texted straight back:
Be careful!
She slipped on her shorts and the fresh T-shirt from her rucksack. Be careful? Of Ubud? Or Johnny?
Outside, Johnny took her hand and yanked her towards the car park. ‘C’mon, we’ve got some satay to eat!’
Laughing, she ran alongside him and hopped on the motorbike. What could go wrong?
14
Ubud was a twenty-minute drive back to the south. She laid her head on Johnny’s back and watched the paddy fields flash past her, a green patchwork set against a backdrop of tropical sky, as if the white plumes of moist air and blue swathes of sky were melting into each other. She was amazed at the terracing, how the farmers had carved out steps of rice fields into the hills. As they pulled in at a junction, a farmer balanced a bamboo pole with two baskets on either end, each filled with greenery. He was in a dirty grey T-shirt, a royal-blue sarong tied around his waist. The humidity and thick clouds were both gathering pace, hanging in the air. As they slowed down, sweat collected in the crevices behind her knees and elbows.
The road into Ubud was narrow and full of potholes; a stray dog with only three legs barked at them, then limped away as they pulled in.
Johnny locked up the bike and then gestured to a small side road. ‘This way.’ Temples flanked the road, with stone statues of various Hindu gods, adorned with flowers. A young girl in a green dress with lace at the edges was carefully placing a bright pink flower on top of an elephant statue next to the restaurant.
‘What’s that?’
‘Hibiscus,’ said Johnny, picking one from a nearby bush. He leant in towards her and placed it behind her ear. It was such a gentle gesture. She wanted to capture the moment.
‘Hold on.’ She smiled at him. ‘Let’s get a photo.’ And with that she and Johnny put their heads together and they grinned at her phone as she took a selfie of them by the restaurant doors.
‘C’mon.’ Johnny nudged her. ‘I’m starving!’
Inside was tiny and crowded. The walls were a warm terracotta colour swathed in batik art. In one corner a stone Buddha sat serenely surrounded by white, waxy frangipani flowers. Small scrubbed wood tables had been paired with metal chairs and a white linen napkin marked each place setting.
‘Hey, Mr Johnny!’ A squat man came up to them and he and Johnny high-fived each other.
‘New friend?’ said the man, winking at Johnny and nodding to Maddie. ‘You give me good review?’
‘You give me good satay!’ Johnny grinned. ‘Maddie, this is Leng.’ Johnny introduced her as he led them to a small table by the wall.
The first dish that arrived was satay smothered in peanut sauce. There were also tiny swirls of light green pickled cucumber on the edge of the plate, a cut lime and a bright red chilli. Maddie bit into the succulent chicken, which came away tenderly from the bamboo skewer; it was easily the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. The peanut sauce was coconutty and rich, with a sweet but salty taste.
‘Good, eh?’
‘Unbelievable,’ said Maddie, wiping her mouth with a napkin. ‘I’m not used to this.’
‘So, what are you used to?’ Johnny was looking at her in a peculiar way.
‘Fish pie?’ She shrugged. ‘OK, I’m used to a small village in Hampshire, doing a weekly Tesco shop, being a part-time