The laying on of hands.

There was rain this morning. It was overcast with no sign of the blue ceiling of our previous days here.We went up for breakfast. Tomtika was there and she said she had to go to the dentist and would we meet her at 5.00pm instead?We read back in our room for a bit as there were a few heavy showers before heading up to use the internet for an hour.I had my book with me and the girl from the young couple next door but one to us said;“Oh, we are reading the same book.”Will said “I’m reading it to, but on the Ipad.”We chatted about the books for a bit. They were from Sydney, her boy friend was British, from Nottinghamshire. He had a very plummy accent.  They had met at University in Dublin last April and he had come out to live with her at her parents in Sydney. Regarding the Game of Thrones books we were reading...she said the actor who played Joffrey in the television series was also at the same university and she said she always felt sorry for him when people shouted “We hope you die!” at him. She said he was keen to get out of acting.“Well, he is not in the series much longer is he? “ I said. She looked dumb...I don’t think she had got to that bit in the book yet.We had lunch. I had another Fisherman’s Basket and Will had Fishcakes. The other young couple were also there. They were from Australia. The Hootenpoopen’s walked past on their way down to the beach...we never saw them again or the ‘chavs’.After Lunch I bit the bullet and decided to wander down to the village and surrender unto Mary for a massage. Will came down and had a swim in the sea while I wandered along the beach to find her. I asked for her at the shop.“Bula! Come in! Take a seat! We go find her,” said the shopkeeper with the gap in her teeth.A girl was lying on the floor on a woven palm mat playing with a baby.“Here is the souvenir shop, come see,” said the gappy shopkeeper. I had already been in the other day but went in again.I went out and sat on a chair on the verandah/cafe. The girl on the floor had a small ipad and was amusing the baby with it. The gappy shopkeeper came and sat near me.“Mary is somewhere where there is a television. Fiji are playing rugby against New Zealand. She got out her mobile phone, punched in some numbers and started chattering in Fijian. These people live in nothing more than beach shacks yet have all the up to date technology.“We cannot find her,” said the shop keeper.“ I don’t think she will want to be dragged away from the rugby,” I said. “I will come back later.”“At three o’clock?” said the shopkeeper.“Fine” I said.I went back to the beach deck and read some of my book for a bit and wandered back at three.The shopkeeper was sat on a log hacking at what looked like large limes. There was a guy standing next to her. I recognised him and thought he was the ‘diving guy’ from the next resort who had been trying to drum up custom at The Wellesley. It wasn’t though. He was one of the three Americans...the ‘film crew’. He was there to have some lunch and while I waited for someone to go and find Mary again I got the chance to ask him what work he did. He was a tiler...oh, I was disappointed.The gappy shopkeeper asked if I wanted to try one of the nuts she was hacking. They were ‘vutu’ nuts. I thought she said voodoo nuts. I was a bit wary. I’d never heard of them.“They are like your peanuts”, she said. They were, but bigger. I took one from her and ate it.“You like another?”“No, thank you.” I said.“Where is your partner?” She asked, obviously not born yesterday.“He’s having a swim,” I said.A skinny little dog came out of a house and lay down in the dirt in a patch of sunlight. Its ribs were sticking out. ‘Give my other vutu nut to that,’ I wanted to say.Eventually Mary was found and she was apparently waiting for me at her massage shack on the beach. I thanked the shopkeeper for her help and said “have a good lunch,” to the tiler.It turned out that Fiji beat New Zealand. I was relieved at least Mary was in a good mood for the massage. I’d never had a massage before and was not really that bothered about having one but felt that after saying I might that first day I really should and also if we were going to spend money I would rather it went to people in the village.I took off my t- shirt and lay on the table...it was the proper thing with the hole for your face. She went for water to wash my sandy feet. There was a bottle of what looked like chip oil standing on the side.I just closed my eyes and thought of England.She started on my shoulders and neck. ‘Do you make conversation whilst having a massage?’ I wondered.“Where did you learn to do massage?” I asked.“From a book,” she said.“Oh,” I thought. I didn’t know what a trained masseuse felt like so I don’t know whether it was good or not.She definitely had firm hands. There was little talk after that apart from her asking,“Is good?” and me squeaking, “yes.”It was very relaxing especially with the sound of the waves in the background. I got a bit tense when she started to ease down my shorts a little to do my lower back and a bit later when she put one of her big hands on my buttocks while massaging my legs.There was a sudden rain storm and I lifted my head out of the hole in the table to look. There were two Fijian men standing in the sea in the rain waving and making kissing noises...I don’t know if they were waving at me or Mary, but I waved back.I was covered in the chip oil. It made me think if it was a skill passed down through the centuries, the basting of foreigners, before they were finally roasted.“Turn over please,” she said.Heck!The next tense bit was when she was stood behind my head rubbing her oily hands down my chest. She is a big woman and I dared not open my eyes. Her chest must have just been millimetres from my face. I tried not to think about it and tried to relax my arms. She rubbed my ears a lot which I thought was a bit strangeFinally it was over.“You look like a new man,” she said.‘Yes,’ I thought...’but greasier.’I wandered back down the beach and went in for a swim...a small oil slick formed and half a dozen sea birds had to be rescued and taken away to be cleaned.I had a shower back in the room. At 5.00 pm we went down to the beach again to meet Talaki. She was going to take us to the village...we waited for about 45 minutes...allowing for Fijian time...i.e. no rush...but she never came.The beardy Americans went out on the kayaks and the next time we looked they had completely disappeared from view. I was a bit worried but they turned up at Dinner.The two young couples were dining together tonight. I think they were feasting on the fish that the plumy lad and his girlfriend had caught earlier in the day when they had been out fishing with one of the men from the village. They came back with three large coral fish...which Raj must have cooked for them.Kimy was there.“Next time you come, you stay in the village. I cook for you.”“And I will cook for you,” said Will.“I give you my email address.”She did give it us but it was written so indecipherably that we will never be able to contact her.I bet she says that to all the guests.