Her hands trembled as she jerked on her still humid skirt. The silk blouse was ruined and full of sand and her shoes were nowhere to be seen. ‘Pearl, you’re my mate. I can never…’ ‘Look, buddy…I’ll admit, you’re darn cute and all, but you’re going to have to think of a better way to get rich quick.’ She’d already let Brent make a fool of her, she wasn’t about to make another stupid mistake. Worse than letting some stranger have unprotected sex with you? As she walked away, Pearl decided the man certainly deserved an Oscar. His heart wrenching sobs filled her ears, making her grit her teeth and dig her fingernails into the palms of her hands. Her own eyes watered. She should be the one crying. No one would ever truly love her. She was too tall, skinny, with mousy brown hair and plain dark eyes. How stupid she had been the night before believing everything he whispered into her ear. She supposed his virginity was nothing but a farce as well. ‘I’m so stupid!’ Horrors couldn’t get any. She had an external pit toilet, an external barbecue, an old-fashioned wood-fired stove, a few sheep and a goat, as well as a few fruit trees and a vegetable garden. She was a vegetarian, and tried to live self-sufficiently. She had no TV, so afternoons and evenings were spent talking, reading, listening to Mahler, Shostakovich, Robert Johnson, Miles Davis or Thelonious Monk. Often she would play the piano, or take to her easel to paint birds, flowers or animals.I would do some chores in the morning, in the garden, picking fruit, or feeding the animals, before heading off to the beach, for an hour or two. On the night I returned with my load of grass ticks, I was terribly itchy all around where I had been squatting, unable to stop scratching. The scratching had drawn some blood, which found its way to the bed sheets. Joan discovered the blood, which led to the source, and then the explanation. She was horrified by what she saw. I was dreadfully embarrassed by what she saw..
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