* * *
Packing was very simple this time. I was going out to Sri Lanka with no expectations. There would be no-one to impress, and no possibility of smart occasions to dress up for. I was going out purely to work and to do what I could, in my own small way, to help. The thought was strangely liberating. I worried constantly about the devastation and distress I would find there, but not once did I think of my fear of the sea. My head was also too full to consider whether or not my relationship with Paul would withstand this separation.
I thought that the blanket TV coverage would have prepared me for the situation I would find, but it hadn’t come close. These people had had very little in the first place. Now they had nothing. They had lost family, friends, shelter, work and all hope of supporting themselves in the future. They were totally dependent on the sea for their livelihoods, be it through fishing or tourism, and this same sea had dashed their hopes and lives on the rocks. They had so little, and yet they shared what they had with these Westerners who were now trying to help, just as they had helped the tourists in the immediate aftermath of the disaster. I thought with shame of our lives back in England, grumbling about the smallest little disruptions to our tranquil existences.
Luckily, I didn’t have time to dwell on these thoughts. Action was needed, and straight away. As soon as I arrived, I was scooped up enthusiastically by the sunburned and grubby looking volunteers who had been quicker to get out there than me.
“Hi. I’m Jonathan. At a wild guess, I’d say you’ve just arrived.”
“I’m Chrissie. Is it that obvious?” I smiled wanly, wondering what rookie vibes I was giving out.
“Let’s just say you look rather neater and tidier than the rest of us. And everything you’re feeling is showing on your face. You’ll feel better when you start doing something. The longest journey begins with a single step and all that.”
He flashed me a warm, sunny, open smile, and, sure enough, suddenly I felt better. If he could look so cheerful, it must be worth trying.
“Where do I start?” I said, literally and metaphorically rolling up my sleeves.
“Right here, right now. Everyone’s really friendly and we all muck in and do whatever’s needed. There’s no hierarchy to speak of. It’s a bit shambolic, but it seems to work. I haven’t been out here long, and I wasn’t sure what I’d be able to do to help to start with, but really what they need is willing hands. We’re helping to build shelters at the moment, but yesterday we were clearing debris from the beach. We just do whatever seems to be most urgent. As time goes on, we want to be able to do more to help the children, to give them something positive to focus on. God knows, they could do with some TLC after all they’ve been through.”
“I’m quite good with kids,” I said, hoping that this was true. It hadn’t been tested much so far, to be honest.
“That’s great. That’ll be a great help. Anyway, first things first. How are you on construction work?”
“Construction work?” I laughed. “Better than at Quantum Physics, anyway.”
“That’ll do. Let’s get started.”
We all carried on in the same vein over the following weeks, working harder than I had ever worked before, and gaining more satisfaction than I would ever have thought possible. We all became great friends, but Jonathan and I formed a special bond. We discovered early on that we had more in common than just a desire to help.
“So, let’s get this right, Chrissie. You were at school with my sister.”
“It looks that way, doesn’t it? There was something familiar about you when I first met you, but now I know your surname and where you come from, it all fits into place.”
“How come I never met you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Perhaps you thought your kid sister’s friends weren’t interesting enough to meet.”
“Possibly.” He mulled this over. “I was wrong there, though, wasn’t I? I certainly find you interesting now.” He gave me a look that showed he wasn’t talking about my intellect, or my skill in building shelters.
Jonathan’s sunny personality completely captivated me. No matter what we were dealing with, he was able to see the positive side. Nothing seemed to get him down. He was the new broom sweeping away the cobwebs of my old life.
“What really brought you out here, Chrissie?” he asked me pensively one day.
“Well, I wanted to help, obviously, but, if I’m being honest, I think I was trying to escape from Paul.” I felt so guilty saying this, but giving it voice made it more real, gave it form and solidity. It was true. I couldn’t escape it. “What about you?” I asked, noticing that he wasn’t interested in pursuing this line of thought. He just took it as fact.
“I don’t think I told you about my cousin, Jenny. She’d just started at University, but she was knocked down by a drunk driver just before Christmas. She was gone in an instant, after all those careful years of nurture and reaching out for her future. Suddenly, she didn’t have one. It really shook me, and then, shortly afterwards, the Tsunami struck. More waste. More death. I just thought, rather than sitting around, I ought to try to do something positive. Jenny would have liked that. She always wanted to do the right thing. And now look what’s happened. I come all the way out here and I meet you, practically the girl next door. How’s that for good luck?”
* * *
Now we’ve come to the end of our working holiday. We’ve done what we can to help, but Jonathan and I recognise that our future lives lie elsewhere, but definitely together. He has no loose ends to tie up, but I have to go home to tell Paul that our relationship is finally over. It’s no more than a formality or a courtesy really. We’ve had virtually no contact since I have been away, so it won’t come as a surprise to him. I’m sure he’s found himself another willing victim already. Meanwhile, Jonathan and I are having a last couple of days of enjoyment and relaxation, resting our weary bones after all that hard work, living for the first time the tourist dream that most people come here for.
“So, why do you feel guilty, anyway? Is it because you’ve left Paul behind?”
“No, definitely not. I stopped thinking about him a long time ago”, I say, raising myself onto my elbows. “It’s just that it’s taken a terrible disaster caused by the sea for me to lose my fear of it. It doesn’t seem right.”
Jonathan smiles and shakes his head in mock exasperation.
“I don’t know. You’re never happy unless you’ve got something to worry about, are you? Just be pleased that out of disaster, some good has come. That’s the way to look at it.”
* * *
So, do you think I should feel guilty?
~ ~ ~
Clare Tanner is the author of The Tranquillity Project, a novel set in the near future.
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