My clothes had dried in the warm air, and I felt invigorated and fit.
Seri had vanished, but I knew she would reappear when she was ready. I walked the length of the beach twice, then decided to find somewhere to sleep. I found a place in the dry sand that was sheltered by rocks, and here I scooped out a shallow bowl. It was warm enough to sleep uncovered, so I simply lay on my back, cupped my hands behind my head and stared up at the dazzling stars.
It was not long before I fell asleep.
I awoke to the sound of the sea, and to brilliant sunlight, and to the crying of gulls. I was instantly alert, as if the transition from sleep to waking was as easy as turning on a light; for months I had been used to a slow, sleepy recovery, dogged by mental and physical clumsiness.
I sat up, regarded the glistening silver sea and the sweep of bone-white sand, and felt the sun warm on my face. To the side, the headland was yellow with flowers and beyond it was a clean blue sky. Lying on the sand beside me, an arm's length away, was a small pile of clothes. There was a pair of sandals, a denim skirt, a white shirt; resting on the top, in a shallow recess made by a hand, was a small silvery cluster of rings and bracelets.
A small head, black against the light, was bobbing and ducking in the swell. I stood up, narrowing my eyes against the glare, and waved. She must have seen me, because as soon as I was standing she waved back and began to wade out towards me. She came with sand-crusted feet and matted hair, and beads of cold water were dripping from her. She kissed me and undressed me, and we made love. Afterwards, we went for a swim.
By the time we had walked along the coast to the nearest village, the sun was high and the unmade track beside the shone was burning beneath our feet. We ate a meal at an open-air restaurant, while the air was drowsy with insects and distant motorcycles. We were in the village of Paio on the island of Paneron, but it was too hot for Seri and she wanted to move on. There was no harbour in Paio; just a shallow river running down to meet the sea, and a few small boats tied to rocks. The bus would arrive in the aftennoon, but we could rent bicycles. Paneron Town was a three-hour ride away, on the other side of the central range.
Paneron was the first of several islands we visited. It became a compulsive journey, travelling, travelling. I wanted to slow down, to relish each place as we found it, to discover Seri. But she was discovering herself in a way I barely understood. To her, each island represented a different facet of her personality, each one vested in her a sense of identity. She was incomplete without islands, she was spread across the sea.
'Why don't we stay here?' I said, in the harbour of an island with the odd name of Smuj. We were waiting for the ferry to take us on to yet another island. I was intrigued by Smuj: in the town I had found a map of the interior, where an ancient city lay. But Seri needed to change islands.
'I want to go to Winho,' she said.
'Let's stay one more night.'
She seized my arm and there was the force of determination in her eyes.
'We must go somewhere else.'
It was the eighth day, and already I could hardly distinguish the islands we had visited. 'I'm tired of moving on. Let's not travel for a while.'
'But we hardly know each other. Each island reflects us.'
'I can't tell the diffenence.'
'Because you don't know how to see. You have to surrender to the islands, become enraptured by them.'
'We don't get a chance. As soon as we land in one place we set off for another.'
Seri gestuned impatiently. The boat was approaching the quay, the hot smell of diesel fumes drifting around it.
'I told you,' she said. 'In the islands you can live forever. But you won't know how until you find the right place.'
'At the moment I wouldn't know the right place if we found it.'
We sailed to Winho, and from there to more islands. A few days later we were on Semell, and I noticed that from there ships sailed regularly to Jethra. I was frustrated with the journey, and disappointed with what I had learned about Seri. She transmitted her restlessness to me, and I began to think of Gracia and to wonder how she was. I had been away too long, and should not have abandoned her. Guilt grew in me.
I told Seri my feelings. 'If I go back to Jethra, will you come with me?'
'Don't leave me.'
'I want you to come with me.'
'I'm scared you'll go back to Gracia and forget about me. There are more islands to visit.'
'What happens when we reach the last one?' I said.
'There is no last one. They go on forever.'
'That's what I thought.'
We were in the central square of Semell Town, and it was noon. Old men sat in the shade, the shops were shuttered, in the olive trees growing on the rocky hills behind the town we could hear goat bells, and a donkey braying. We were drinking iced tea, and the timetable from the shipping line lay on the table between us. Seri called the waiter and ordered a spiced pastry.
'Peter, you're not ready to return yet. Don't you see that?'
'I'm worried about Gracia. I shouldn't have left her.'
'You had no choice.' A motorboat started up in the harbour; in the slumbering heat it seemed as if it were the only mechanical sound in all the islands. 'Don't you remember what I told you? You must surrender to the islands, submerge yourself in them. Through them you can escape to find yourself. You've given yourself no chance. It's too soon to return.'
