DON’T BE CLEVER

A short story from my collection, The House on the Moon

It was impossible to see the house on the moon with the naked eye, but Dee insisted that she could.

“Well, it’s more like sense, rather than see,” she said. “I’m a HSP. You know what that is? A Highly Sensitive Person.”

“That’s nice,” said Suzanne, looking out of the window. She’d given up trying to read her book, Brian Cox’s recent “The Moon House Mystery.” Every time she picked it up, the loud Californian woman gently put her hand over Suzanne’s and pushed it down again.

“How can you read?” She said. “You’ll get motion sickness. You want some Dramamine?”

They were on a bus, travelling on a fast, narrow road, surrounded by granite mountains. Every so often, a turquoise sea slipped out from between buildings and trees, startling Suzanne with a flash of beauty. She felt very far away from home, and wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“It’s difficult being a HSP,” said Dee. “To feel so much more deeply than normal people do. The house appearing really messed up my chakras. I’m just raw right now, spiritually speaking.”

“Hmm.” Suzanne glanced at her watch. Another fifteen minutes and they’d be at the bus station in Split. Soon she’d be on a high-speed catamaran, heading for a blue-green island stuffed with vineyards and encircled by wild beaches. Alone. It was a strange thought. A guilty thought, even. To assuage her conscience, she decided to be nice to the crazy woman sitting beside her. She could tolerate her for fifteen minutes, couldn’t she? After all, it’s nice to be nice.

“Do you think there are people in the house on the moon?” Suzanne asked. It seemed to Suzanne that there must be. What was the point of a house without people?

“No, I’d sense them if there were. Like I sensed the house. My energies were all over the place. Like my tidal energies? You know we have tides? We’re mostly water.”

You’re mostly water, thought Suzanne. Then again, she’d been feeling out of sorts for a while, too. Even before the news about the house on the moon came out, she’d been in a funk. She felt weird; she didn’t know how to explain it. She’d been less patient with Joe, for a start. He’d really got on her last nerve, to be honest. And when the kids had rung from their university halls, asking for money, she couldn’t be bothered with them, either. She’d handed the phone over to Joe and gone upstairs to run a bath. Maybe it was the time of life. The change. That’s what she’d been thinking. But then the news came out about the house on the moon, and she’d thought, well. Not saying that explained anything – really it was a total mystery, even Brian Cox thought so – but it certainly put things into perspective. If that can happen, she’d thought, anything can happen. All the rules can be thrown out the window.

She’d booked this holiday on the joint credit card, telling Joe he should be grateful it was only for two weeks, that she was actually planning on coming back.

“Alright,” he said, “if you want to do your Shirley Valentine impression, I suppose I can’t stop you.”

“Shirley Valentine? Hey Joe, the eighties called. They want their pop culture reference back.”

“Don’t be clever, Suzanne,” he said.

Don’t be clever. Well, didn’t that just take the biscuit. She wondered if anyone had ever told Dee not to be clever, and doubted it, and then admonished herself for being so mean.

“I’m an empath,” Dee was saying, “so I can tell that you’re a good and kind person. You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I’m wondering what you’re going through right now that means you need to be away from your family.”

Suzanne glared at the woman, annoyed at her for peering into her thoughts. Maybe she really was an empath. But no: Suzanne remembered she was wearing her wedding ring. And she’d been scrolling through family pictures before Dee plonked herself down on the seat beside her. It was sly, though. Suzanne didn’t like that, even though she agreed she was a good and kind person, actually. But then, wasn’t everyone? Deep down?

“I don’t need to be away from them,” said Suzanne. “I just fancied a holiday.”

“Me too!” Dee exclaimed. “We are kindred spirits, Suzie! I just knew we would be. It was fate that I sat next to you on this bus. I tell you, my husband thinks I’m a kook. Well, what he doesn’t know is that I’m divorcing him the second I get back to California. That guy. All he does is watch TV. Can you believe it?”

Isn’t that all anyone does, Suzanne wondered. It was all she and Joe did. Get up, go to work, come home, have tea in front of the telly, go to bed. What else were they supposed to do? Explore each other’s chakras? But again, Dee was right in another way. Ever since she’d found out about the house on the moon, Suzanne had been wondering if there wasn’t something more to life. How did people live in the house on the moon? They weren’t watching Netflix every night, Suzanne was sure of that.

“Well you and me, Suzie, we are going to set some fires! We’re going to show these men!”

Suzanne smiled politely, and turned back to the window. There was a good view of the sea now, and then the bus turned into another busy road, where there was a big, ancient-looking wall and hundreds of people in shorts and bikinis, eating gelato.

“I guess we’re here,” she said.

“I’m going to tell him: Jack, it’s over. You can keep the house. I’m going to move into the condo. There’s a yoga studio in the building and my yoga teacher, well. He gets me, you know? On a soul level. Oh my gosh, look at that sea! Isn’t it just perfect? I can’t wait to baptise myself in it. You know what I do? Wherever I go, I pick up a stone and take it home with me. Did you ever hear of something like that before? My husband thinks I’m a kook!”

Suzanne shook her head, picturing the windowsill of their bathroom at home, lined with shells and stones from various beach trips and holidays.

“I get a feeling,” said Dee, “and I pick a stone up and it’s like, the right stone for me. It sounds crazy, I know. But you see, I’m a shaman. You know what a shaman is?”

“Yes,” said Suzanne.

“Well a shaman is someone who can communicate between our world and the spirit world. So when I pick up these stones, it’s like I’m getting a message from the spirit world. It’s coming through me. It’s quite a responsibility.”

“I can imagine.”

The bus was slowing down now, pulling across the road. A cacophony of cars, screeching and honking, broke out around them, followed by the deep mournful sound of a boat’s horn echoing through the air. Suzanne saw the ferry port on her right, and then the bus was stopping.

Dee was apparently waiting for everyone else to get off the bus before she stood up, so Suzanne said, “Sorry, I just need to… I have to get to my ferry.”

“Oh, sure! Let’s go,” said Dee.

Out of the vehicle, the hot air swamped Suzanne. This was a mistake, she thought. She’d never liked the heat, or crowds, and hadn’t she been seasick that time she and Joe took the ferry to France? But it was too late now. She lost the annoying Californian in the crowd of people grabbing their suitcases, and made her way across the street to the port.

*****

Her boat was called the Puntamika. It was as crowded as the bus had been, but she managed to get a seat next to a smeared, dirty window, and as the ferry slowly chugged away from the harbour, she felt something like relief. The captain made an announcement about journey times being unaffected by the house on the moon, and the passengers all grinned at each other, as if the house was funny. Which in a way, Suzanne thought, it was. Funny how there could suddenly be a house on the moon, and yet life went on down here completely normally. The town of Split grew distant, and acres of blue sea spread out around her, sparkling in the sunshine. For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, ever since the fight with Joe, and the early morning taxi to Manchester airport, Suzanne felt her eyelids drooping down, and she gratefully slipped into a dreamless sleep.

She had no idea how long she’d been sleeping when she felt a jostling at her elbow, and a now-familiar voice saying, “Oh would you mind? So kind! It’s just we’re friends, you see.” Suzanne cracked one eye open to observe the quiet man beside her getting up and wiry, loud Dee wriggling into his place.

“Oh my gosh!” Dee grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, a little too hard. Her long nails dug into Suzanne’s skin. “I thought I’d lost you at the bus station! Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Suzanne shook her head. It was a lie. She had heard Dee calling her, but she’d walked away quickly, pretending to be rushing for her ferry.

“Well here you are! It’s fate! This morning when I woke up, I had a feeling that something good would happen. I didn’t know what it would be, but then I met you! Isn’t that wild?”

“Wild,” said Suzanne, rubbing her eyes and struggling to sit upright in her seat.

A voice came through the loudspeakers. “Dear passengers,” it said. “The next stop is Korčula. Korčula, next stop.”

Oh thank God, thought Suzanne. I’m here at last.

“Did he say Korchla? I’m going to Korkooler. You think that’s what he meant?”

Suzanne frowned. “It doesn’t sound like the same place,” she said, hopefully.

“Wait, I’m going to ask someone,” said Dee.

She got up from her seat and made her way back towards the bathroom area. When Dee was out of sight, Suzanne retrieved her suitcase from the pile at the front of the boat, and made her way to the exit. She was halfway along the jetty when Dee trotted up breathlessly beside her.

“It’s the same damn place!” She said. “He was just saying it wrong. I guess that’s how they say it here. But they should say it in a way people can understand.”

Suzanne nodded. Was she ever going to get rid of this annoying woman?

“You’re so kind, Suzie,” she was saying. “I knew from the moment I saw you. I said to myself, here is a deeply kind, wise, and spiritual woman. I just know these things! Don’t ask me how!”

I won’t, Suzanne muttered to herself.

She took her mobile phone from her pocket and waited for it to re-set itself to EU roaming. No missed calls. Not that she was expecting any. There was a line of taxis in the ferry car park, and she turned to Dee and said, “It was so nice meeting you. Well, I’m going to jump in a taxi. Have a great holiday.”

“Wait,” said Dee. “We need to swap numbers. Where are you staying? Nearby?”

“Lumbarda,” said Suzanne. “It’s quite a way from here. So I guess this is goodbye.”

“No freaking way! Lumbarda? That’s where I’m headed! This is just so unbelievable, right? This is fate! You know I was telling myself how great it was to be alone but then when I met you I thought wouldn’t it be even more great to have a friend to do things with? Who wants to vacation by themselves, right? Hey, let’s get this cab. We can share.”

Suzanne watched Dee stride over to the taxi driver, making no attempt to speak his language, but trying to haggle down his price to pennies.

“It’s okay,” said Suzanne to the driver, “I’ll pay. It’s fine.”

She smiled at him, trying to convey her sympathy and her own embarrassment, plus the fact that she really wasn’t associated with this woman in any way and wouldn’t choose to be sharing a taxi with her, only she couldn’t really say no now on account of how she’d made the mistake of letting her know where she was going. It was a bit much for a smile to convey, and the taxi driver just shook his head, and shoved their cases in the boot.

“You have to haggle,” Dee said. “You can’t be such a pushover! Stand up for yourself, girl.”

“It’s fine,” said Suzanne. “I don’t think this is a haggling kind of place.”

“Well I don’t know. I don’t want to get ripped off.”

“We’re not getting ripped off.” I’m getting ripped off, thought Suzanne. By you.

The taxi took them out of town, along narrow roads that wound through vineyards, past a quarry and a cemetery, and then the view opened up onto a huge bay that curved around into mountains.

“Wow,” said Suzanne. “It’s breathtaking.”

“It’s fate,” said Dee. “We were meant to be here, in this time and place. It’s the universe aligning.”

Suzanne thanked the universe that it hadn’t aligned them into the same hotel. She got out of the taxi, paid the driver, bid goodbye to Dee, and pretended not to hear her pleas to meet up for dinner. The taxi driver had finally got the hang of the situation, and drove off while Dee was still reciting her phone number out of the window. At last, the car drove out of sight.

Suzanne stood facing the sea, then she crossed the road to the tiny strip of sandy beach, took off her trainers and socks and stepped into the water. It was crystal clear, beautiful, and felt as refreshing as a new day.

Her hotel room had a little balcony and Suzanne sat there to watch the sun go down and eat a slice of pizza she’d bought from the restaurant downstairs. Perfect. She thought back over the previous day. Had she done everything she needed to do? Was everything in its place? She thought so. Joe’s clothes in a pile on the stairs, ready to go up. His tea in the oven, ready to be heated through. Meals in the freezer, enough to last him for a couple of weeks. The timings were the only thing she worried about. The two weeks she had here ought to give her the space she needed – but life was unpredictable.

As the moon rose over the dark waters, she squinted upwards, trying to make out the house that was perched there, like a little hat. You could see it with a telescope, of course, but you couldn’t get a telescope for love or money these days. Amazon sold out the day after the news broke. Joe thought he had an old telescope in the garage, but there was a lot of junk in there he’d never bothered clearing out, and in the end he decided it was too much trouble to go looking. And Suzanne thought it was nonsense anyway. Why would Joe have a telescope? Since when was he interested in the stars? Since when was he interested in anything other than the football and sinking a few pints at the weekend? But why was that bothering her now? She’d been happy enough. She’d never minded him until recently — at least, she couldn’t remember minding. It was the house that had changed everything. It made it seem like life had more possibilities. Or at least, that life was a hell of a lot more interesting than she’d been giving it credit for.

“It’s the menopause, love,” Joe had said. “I heard about it in Sainsbury’s. You’re the right age for it and everything. They said you’d have mood swings and be irritable.”

“I’m not fucking irritable,” Suzanne said.

Joe raised his eyebrows.

“I swear to God, Joe.”

But Joe hadn’t listened. That was the thing, Suzanne thought. He never really listened.

Were the people on the moon listening? She thought they must be. Despite whatever Brian Cox might say in his bestselling book, Suzanne thought there was only one good explanation for the house on the moon. The Earth had neighbours – and they were twitching their curtains. Suzanne bet they had a telescope, too.

She wondered if she could rent a telescope from one of the rental places in Lumbarda. She’d seen mopeds and bicycles and those little electric scooters; maybe they’d have telescopes too. Anything tourists wanted, they had. Maybe she’d hire a moped and explore the island. She imagined what Joe would have to say about that: he’d roll his eyes and make a joke about her falling off. She’d fallen off her bike, once, years ago when they first got together. She’d given birth to two children since then. Driven up and down the country to care for her parents when they got sick. Been promoted to Head of Department at school. But to Joe, she’d always be Clumsy Sue. Daft Sue. Don’t try to be clever, Suzanne.

Well, not anymore. That wasn’t her anymore.

She went over her plans again as she went to bed. Her own bed, all to herself. She wouldn’t have to make this bed. She wouldn’t have to strip the bed or wash the sheets or wrestle with the duvet. She wouldn’t even have to make her own breakfast. These thoughts were relaxing, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

*****

It was days before she saw Dee again. She’d caught glimpses of her hanging around the hotel, and she always made sure to check out of the window before stepping outside. She’d heard her, too, her voice echoing above the gentle crash of waves and the scrape of chairs against paved floors in cafes. She knew, of course, that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Dee forever – Lumbarda was a small place, and it was coming to the end of the season, so it was getting harder to lose herself in a crowd. In some ways, it would be easier to get it over with – rip off the plaster – but she just didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was sleep, eat, go to one of the beaches in the afternoon and swim in the calm, clear water. People left her alone here. No one got on her nerves the way they did at home. Waiters ignored her, smiled wryly at her stumbling attempts to speak the language, but otherwise didn’t bother her. No one interrupted her halfway through a meal to check that everything was okay for her. Everything was okay. It was better than okay.

She should have done this years ago, she thought. She remembered all those holidays with Joe and the kids, trying to wash their clothes in a campsite bathroom, or washing up tiny plates and cups in a tiny sink, while rain battered the plastic windows of the caravan. Then when the kids were older and she and Joe had more money, going to all-inclusive resorts, watching Joe knock back free Pina Coladas, dreading having to sleep next to his snoring, farting, holiday body. Was that fair? Hadn’t she had fun? She must have done. She wouldn’t have put up with it otherwise. But this – this was something else. It was beautiful, breathtaking. Miraculous. Lying on a beach in the sunshine with nothing to do and no one to bother her – heaven. She thought she might even manage to make a start on her book this afternoon. Maybe Brian Cox could explain her to herself.

But there was Dee. She was jogging towards her from the other end of the beach, her tanned and wiry arms and legs exposed by her yellow swimsuit. Dyed-blonde hair under her straw hat that she pressed to her head with one hand, while the other hand waved up and down like she was flagging a taxi.

“Suzie! Suzie, oh my gosh!”

Suzanne sighed and stretched out her legs. There were droplets of sea water on her knees. She looked at them sparkling in the sunshine. Everything evaporates, she thought. Even beautiful things must come to an end.

“Hi Dee,” she said. “How are you?”

“Thank God I found you,” said Dee. She sat down on Suzanne’s towel. “I was looking for you all over. I came to your hotel! They didn’t tell you?”

Suzanne shook her head. She’d told the receptionists to say that she wasn’t staying there, but she wasn’t sure how much they’d understood. And now she felt a little bad about that. Would it really hurt her to spend a couple of hours with this woman? Okay, she was crazy and annoying, but she was a sister of sorts. A woman on her own. Suzanne could afford to be a little generous. And maybe Dee could be useful to her. In fact, that should have occurred to her before now – that she might need a friend, later.

“Gosh, they never told me,” she said. “Never mind. You’re here now.”

“I sure am! And don’t you think it’s fate, how we keep getting brought together? There’s something about you Suzie, I don’t know what it is. But something makes me feel we’re connected. Do you feel it?”

Suzanne shook her head. “Not really.”

“Well listen, I’m a HSP and an empath. And I’m telling you, something,” (and here she jabbed Suzanne’s knee with a pointy finger) “something has brought us together.”

“Okay,” said Suzanne.

“And it has to do with the house on the moon. So tell me, tell me about the first time you saw it. I was with my yoga teacher, he was showing me the constellations.”

“Oh yeah? Is that a yoga position, or a euphemism?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Suzie,” Dee snapped.

Suzanne flinched. But then Dee’s face relaxed and she smiled.

“Alright, I admit it,” she said. “He’s younger than me. But he’s very wise. Some people just have old souls, don’t they? He doesn’t have any money, that’s his problem. But I can help with that. Listen, when I divorce my husband, I’m going to be so rich. He has no idea what’s coming. You ever been divorced?”

“No. I’ve only ever been married to Joe.”

“Joe? That’s your husband? So why isn’t he here? I can tell you why my lump of a so-called husband isn’t here. Can’t tear himself away from the television, that’s why. He thinks I’m kooky, wanting to go on vacation. Why can’t we go to Florida, he says, like we always do? Florida! Have you ever been there? My god, Suzie, it’s the worst. Never go to Florida, okay? I’m telling you. You’ll get eaten by a god-damn crocodile. But listen, tell me about your husband. Why’d you leave him at home?”

“He’s great,” Suzanne said. “He’s a really good guy. Really.” She stood up. “I’m going for a swim,” she said.

“Oh yay! I’m a water baby, too. I just love it. You know what, I’m going to come in with you. Okay! Just wait for me to get my things, I’ve left them all the way over there. Hang on… Oh okay, I’ll see you in the water! See you there!”

The sea was shallow until a long way out, but Suzanne kept wading. She supposed Dee would be a strong swimmer, what with living by the beach in California. Whereas she, Suzanne, was not confident in the water at all. She was scared of riptides, sea urchins, choking. She weighed up her options. Don’t be a smartass, she thought. When the sea reached her hips, she dived forward and began a weak breaststroke, feeling buoyed up by the salty water. It was glorious, actually.

“The moon affects the oceans, doesn’t it?” Dee was beside her already, chatting away in her ear. “But the water feels the same to me. What about you? I know you’re not a shaman or anything, but I’m wondering if you’d noticed anything. You’re a very observant person.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” said Suzanne.

Dee laughed. “I know, but I feel I do! I feel like this was meant to be.”

*****

When Suzanne finally managed to get away from Dee that afternoon, retreating to her hotel under the pretext of a headache, she felt more anxious than she had at any point in this whole experience. She checked her phone again. Nothing. Then she unpacked her laptop and went online, looking at her facebook page in case anyone was trying to get in touch with her. She scrolled the local news, then the Manchester news, then the nationals. There were still a lot of stories about the house. A lot of theories. People thought it was either something to do with Elon Musk, or aliens. Astronomers and astrologers were interviewed on the BBC news. She watched a youtube video in which Jordan Peterson talked about the destabilising effect of anomalous objects on human psychology, but after a few minutes she got bored and clicked on a Baker Fleet video. Her most famous hit: Heart like a knife. It was Suzanne’s favourite song, but just now she found it insipid. She shut the laptop.

Suzanne hadn’t liked Dee’s questions, her interrogation on the beach. Of course she loved her husband. Of course she did. It wasn’t about love, or the lack of it. She just needed some space. But the questions made her nervous. Okay, Suzanne reassured herself. Everything’s fine. We had that argument before I left, that’s why he hasn’t called. Should I call him? Call the house? Yes, I should do that. Do both things.

Joe’s mobile went straight to answerphone. “Hi love,” Suzanne said. “Missing you. Call me when you get this.” Then she rang the landline, listened to the phone ringing out. She pictured Joe’s clothes, all in a neat pile on the stair. He always stepped over things on the stairs, rather than carry them up. The thought made her feel sad, rather than infuriated. She decided to call him again tomorrow.

That night, she was restless. The bed that had been so comfortable now felt too big for her. The curtains didn’t fully close and she was aware, all night, of the big moon beaming above her, the moon with its incongruous house, that alien object influencing her psychology. Maybe. Or maybe she was asleep and dreaming. She really couldn’t tell.

*****

She got up early the next morning and headed to the little jetty off Lumbarda beach, to get the sea taxi to Badija Island. She had a big bag which held her swimming costume, towel, snorkel, bottle of water, sandwich, half a bottle of wine and the Brian Cox book that she still hadn’t managed to crack open. Bliss. She’d heard the island was uninhabited except for the monks in the fourteenth-century monastery, and some friendly deer. The hotel receptionist assured her she’d be able to find a little private cove where she could sunbathe and swim to her heart’s content. It was going to be a perfect day.

The water taxi was waiting at the jetty and she climbed aboard. It was a beautiful day, and she said so to the captain, in her best Croatian. “Predivan dan danas,” she said, and he grinned. “One minute we go, lady,” he said, clearly not fooled by her best attempt at the accent. He unhooked the rope from the jetty, and climbed around the boat, making his preparations, then sat at the front and started the engines. He was good looking, Suzanne thought. She’d noticed that Croatian men were generally quite tall. She liked that. Maybe she’d think about that later, in her private cove on the almost-uninhabited island.

But just as they were drifting out of the dock, the captain stopped and reversed them back in again. “One more passenger comes,” he said.

She was trotting along the jetty, one hand holding on to her straw hat.

“Fuck my life,” muttered Suzanne.

“Oh my gosh!” Dee said, clambering into the boat.

“I know,” said Suzanne. “It’s fate.”

“It’s fate! It must be. You know what, it’s the moon. It was a full moon last night. I felt it in my whole body.”

The boat’s engine as they cut through the water was too loud for conversation, not that it stopped Dee from trying. Suzanne kept up her own inner monologue, bewailing her so-called fate. How is it, in this most beautiful place, a place where it should have been easy to be alone – which was all she wanted, by the way – she was besieged, yes, besieged, no actually, harassed – harassed by this woman with her stupid voice and her stupid ideas? Was this really her fate? Why? What had she ever done to deserve this? Then she thought, maybe she did deserve it, actually. Maybe she was just getting what was coming to her. And look, she told herself, there’s nothing wrong with Dee except she’s just a bit irritating. That’s all. My god, Suzanne, she berated herself. Have some patience! Be kind!

At Badija, they disembarked. The fragile hope Suzanne had carried that Dee might be going to a different island vaporised into the clear, fragrant air. There was nothing she could do. She was stuck, and she had to make the best of it. Be kind, she reminded herself. The same injunctions she’d been hearing all her life. Don’t be clever, Suzanne. Be nice.

They walked along the stony path with the sea to their left and the forest to their right. It was breathtakingly lovely, like nowhere Suzanne had ever been. Dee kept up a monologue about how similar it was to California, except for the kinds of trees, which were maybe a bit different, but then it was more about the feeling of the trees, their spirits, because all things have a spirit, don’t they, she said. And she, being a shaman, and a Highly Sensitive Person, was able to connect to those spirits in a way a normal person couldn’t.

“The spirits here are very strong,” she said. “Very powerful. I’m not sure they’re altogether positive, though. They feel like maybe they don’t want us here. I wouldn’t want to be here alone!”

I would, Suzanne said, under her breath. She hadn’t noticed anything weird about the trees. Then again, it wasn’t easy to commune with the spirits of the island while Dee was wittering on at her.

There were many little coves and beaches along their way. Suzanne nurtured a tiny dream that she could still get one of these places all to herself.

“Wouldn’t you love to be alone, swimming there, by yourself, with no one else in the world?” She said, pointing to an idyllic-looking bay below the path.

“Well sure!” Dee said. “If I didn’t have you!”

Fine. Have it your way, thought Suzanne.

They walked around to the far side of the island, and Suzanne pointed out a little bay tucked away below some rocks. They had to climb down from the path, and when they got there, Suzanne realised the trees above had been hiding another patch of beach a little way behind them. Perfect.

“Let’s head there,” she said.

“This is beautiful,” said Dee.

It was the first honest, simple thing Suzanne had heard her say, and she rewarded her with a smile. Probably shouldn’t encourage her, thought Suzanne, but she couldn’t exactly take it back. Be kind!

They took out their towels and spread them over the rocks. Suzanne took off her sandals and put on her beach shoes.

“Oh beach shoes,” said Dee. “That’s a great idea. I should have bought some beach shoes. But I like to be in touch with the earth and the water, you know. So I can communicate without any barriers.”

“Yeah,” said Suzanne.

“Hey, look! There’s the moon!”

Suzanne followed Dee’s pointing finger. She was right. There was the moon, hanging like a disc of cloud in the blue sky.

“When the Lady Moon shows herself in the daytime, that’s a real spiritual message,” said Dee.

“Uh-huh,” said Suzanne.

She surveyed the beach and picked up one of the stones that were scattered around her. It was smooth, warm, heavy, fitted well in the bowl of her hand.

“But with this house, I don’t know. Her messages are complex. It’s like getting the two tarot cards: the Moon and the Tower combined. Do you understand?”

“Sure,” said Dee. The stone in her hand felt perfect. Strange how she’d picked up exactly the right stone for her, just like Dee had said.

She walked down to where the water lapped up over her feet. She sighed. It was a shame. But Dee was right, there was something wrong with it. The place was sick with beauty. She could feel it now.

Dee came and stood beside her, as Suzanne knew she would.

“But when I did my cards last night, do you know I didn’t get the Moon in there at all. You know what I got?”

“Death,” said Suzanne.

“What?” Dee said. “How did you know that?”

“Look,” said Suzanne. “Look at the moon’s reflection in the water. You can see the house.”

Dee leaned forward and was about to say something, but Suzanne shut her up by smashing the rock into the back of her thick head.

*****

In the water taxi back to Lumbarda, Suzanne closed her eyes. This is a peaceful place, she thought. The sound of the engine cutting up the water was genuinely meditative. It almost washed away the sound of the wet crunch of Dee’s skull collapsing into her brains, the splash and thunk of her body falling into the sea. Afterwards, Suzanne had picked her way around the rocks until she found another little cove where she could wash the blood off her hands and out of her hair. She’d swum for a while, then lay on the pebbles and tried to read her book, but the words kept melting off the page, so she dozed instead, under the weird moon which hovered in cloudless blue sky. When she got back to the little jetty late in the afternoon, the taxi boat captain had greeted her in Croatian, and smiled at her, which made him look even more handsome. Really, everything was going perfectly.

Back at her hotel, she phoned Joe again. In a way, she’d have liked to tell him about today. He might have been proud of her. But more likely he wouldn’t have understood, and anyway, he wasn’t going to answer. Maybe she should head home early. She’d be worried about him, wouldn’t she? But it might look suspicious, leaving so soon after Dee’s disappearance. Would anyone notice Dee hadn’t come back from her island jaunt? Suzanne thought lots of people would notice, but no one would care. Then she reprimanded herself. Don’t be mean, Suzanne. No, it was better to stay on her holiday as planned. The longer she took to find Joe’s body at the bottom of the stairs, the more doubt there would be about the time of death. She’d have to remember to call every day, and maybe call the kids too. But not yet – she didn’t want to worry them.

The moon rose over the water, with its little house invisibly perched like a hat. Did I do the right thing, Suzanne asked the people in the house on the moon. Is this what you wanted? But the answer never came.

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