Fiji was hot. Katie hadn't realized how hot it would be until she got off the plane in Nadi. The air was thick and sticky and still, and seemed to trickle into her clothes like syrup.
There were rice-paddies between the airport and the resort, and mountains in the distance. There were forests Peter said were full of mango trees. The hotel room had no glass in the windows, just insect screens and wooden shutters. There was a beach and palm trees and people to bring you drinks, and the wind rattled the palms outside, as a fitful breeze blew off the sea.
It was nice. Once Katie got used to the heat, it was nice. They sat on the beach and did nothing all day.
She spent three days enjoying it, enjoying being there, and then she looked at Peter's phone and everything fell apart.
He'd brought the phone, even though he was on holiday, and had been checking it fairly often for messages. He left it behind when he went to learn waterskiing, and Katie had started wondering if she'd missed anything important. She tried to check her own messages, but couldn't work out how to ring her own voicemail from a different phone from overseas, and somehow, while she was messing around, she ended up looking at Peter's email.
There were a lot of emails from Julie.
Katie didn't know Julie. She didn't remotely know Julie, and she remembered names fairly well. As far as she knew, Peter didn't have a friend called Julie, and didn't work with a Julie, but here Julie was, sending him dozens of messages.
Katie sat there, staring at the phone, wondering if she should look.
She was fairly sure she should. She was fairly sure she knew what those messages meant, and she couldn't quite believe Peter had been so stupid as to keep them, and not to delete them as soon as they arrived.
She hesitated a moment, then opened one at random. It was from a month ago and said Julie would see Peter there, and kiss kiss. That was pretty bad, Katie thought. You didn't get messages like that from people you hadn't mentioned to your partner unless there was something bad going on.
She opened several more. There wasn't anything completely incriminating, no dirty talk, nothing about how good the sex was last night, but she saw enough to worry her. Julie was around a lot, Peter was seeing her twice a week, or apologizing when he didn't, and seemed to be telling her when he'd had a bad day. Once he told Julie he'd try and get away and then sent a message to Katie to say he'd been late. Once he met Julie for a couple of minutes when he was out for dinner with Katie, and Katie thought she remembered that night, and Peter's long disappearance while they ate.
The restaurant message scared her more than the rest. Sneaking away to see someone for a few minutes, that meant you felt something strong for them.
She suddenly felt sick. She got up, ran through to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet for a few minutes, in case she threw up. She didn't, and went back to the phone.
She didn't know what to do. She wondered about putting the phone back and pretending she hadn't seen anything, but that was a bit spineless.
She tried to work out what she'd done wrong. They'd been together for six years, but as far as she knew they weren't drifting apart. They still talked, and did things together, and had sex what seemed a normal amount. They still kissed each other hello and goodbye every time one of them went anywhere. Katie had thought they were a good couple, with a good relationship, but apparently Peter didn't think so.
She decided she needed a drink. She took the phone. She wanted to finish reading, to see everything there was, but first she needed a drink.
There was a bar and restaurant in the middle of the resort complex, near the swimming pools and offices. She didn't bother with shoes, just took the phone and the room key and went towards the bar.
She passed a gardener with a wheelbarrow who said bula, which was what they said here, and she said hi back. Apparently you could be normal while your world came apart.
She got a drink, ordered one of the fruit and sugar cocktails the bar pushed on everyone, then changed her mind and told them to bring her straight vodka too. She drank the vodka and sipped the fruity thing as a chaser read through the rest of the messages. She didn't find anything that told her any more.
She didn't know what to do now.
There were a few other people around. Most of them couples, a lot of them older. The younger people at the resort seemed to stay up all night, and were probably still in bed.
There was one guy on his own, sitting at a table, sipping beer from a bottle and reading a book. He was kind of cute, in a scruffy way.
Katie watched him for a while. He didn't notice, was concentrating on his book.
He had good shoulders, she noticed, which she'd always liked.
She tried to pretend she didn't know why she was noticing that, but she knew. She knew exactly why.
He was the youngest guy in the bar, the only one her age, and she pretended not to know why she noticed that, either.
After a moment she got up and walked over and said, "Hi."
He looked up at her.
"I think my boyfriend's cheating on me," Katie said. "I don't know what to do."
He just sat there, and didn't say a thing.
"Yeah," she said. "Fair enough. Sorry. I shouldn't have..."
She didn't know why she'd bothered, or why a complete stranger would care. She felt awful. She felt rejected. Peter wanted Julie, and men in bars wouldn't even talk to Katie.
"Hey," the guy said, as Katie turned away, "Wait. Hold on."
Katie stopped.
"Sorry," he said. He put down his book. "Sorry, I was just... didn't know what to say. It was a bit out the blue. Sit down."
Katie sat.
"That's awful," he said. "Are you okay?"
"Not at all."
"Do you want to talk?"
"Not really. And you don't want to hear. I just wanted some company."
"Nah," he said. "Tell me. It might do some good."
So she did. That she wasn't sure, but really she was. That she didn't know if it was her fault. That she didn't know what to do now.
He was Mark. He didn't know what to do either, but he was sympathetic, and that was really all she needed.
Then Peter turned up. He'd found the room empty and come looking for Katie for lunch.
"Fuck off," Katie said, and pushed the phone towards him.
He didn't understand. He just looked annoyed. He looked at Mark and said, "Who's this?" and Mark stood up and said, "I should probably go..."
Katie grabbed Mark's arm. "Stay."
"Katie," Peter said.
"Look," Katie said to Peter, pushing the phone closer. "Just fucking look."
Then he did, saw the open messages, and said, "Katie, I didn't mean..."
"Just fuck off," she said.
"Listen," he said. "Just for a moment."
"Fuck off," Katie said. "Go away. I'll come back in a bit. Or I won't. But I don't want to see you right now."
"It isn't what you think."
Katie stopped and thought about that and didn't know why he'd even say that.
"Did you fuck her?" she said.
Peter didn't answer.
"Did you?"
After a minute, "Yes."
"More than once?"
Another pause, then, "Yes."
"So fuck off and leave me alone."
Peter looked at Katie, then at Mark, uncomfortable and looking away, then nodded and picked up his phone and left.
Katie sat back down and tried to decide whether to cry.
"Hey," Mark said, and touched her arm. "It'll be okay."
"It won't really."