by Karen Swan
‘Tell me what it is you’re looking for.’
Jed mumbled a word in Bribri that Tara couldn’t catch – but Alex’s eyes narrowed. Slowly he nodded. ‘I know that plant. I’ve seen it there. You’re sure that’s what you’re looking for?’
‘Pahhco,’ Jed repeated, the word almost a sigh.
‘Then leave it to me. I’ll get it for you. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll protect your boy.’
Jed’s body softened as if tranquillized and at Alex’s nod the two rangers immediately set off. Tara and Alex watched as he was carried across the deck, down the steps and along the jungle path. Within moments they were gone, but she and Alex stood there, looking on after the red streak was out of sight.
She knew he was thinking the same as her, feeling the same sense of unease as they found themselves alone in the Costa Rican jungle, one question running through both their minds.
Now what?
She went back inside, remembering that in all the rush, she’d left her wet clothes in a heap on the floor. She picked them up and rolled them into balls, stuffing them back in her rucksack with all the food. She went through to the small room at the back and did the same with Jed’s clothes too, although his shirt was in rags now and she put that in the bin.
Alex stood watching her as she moved about busily. ‘Will he be okay?’
‘As long as there’s no further holdups, yes, I hope so.’ Her voice was brisk, her eyes anywhere but on him.
He watched her fasten her backpack, frowned as she hoisted it over her arms. ‘. . . What are you doing?’
It was her turn to frown. ‘Heading back. What do you think?’
There was a small laugh. ‘. . . What?’
She looked up to find Alex staring at her with an openly shocked expression. ‘I’m heading back. His wife needs to be told what’s happened. Why’s that funny?’
‘You can’t go trekking through this jungle on your own!’
There was a pause. ‘I think you’ll find I can do whatever I like,’ she said in an even voice. If he thought he could tell her what she could or couldn’t do, if he thought he was entitled to talk to her as though he knew her . . .
‘Tara, this isn’t . . . Hyde Park!’
‘I’m perfectly aware of that,’ she said coldly, not appreciating his condescension.
‘You have no idea where their village is from here.’
That was perfectly true. ‘Don’t I? And how would you know?’
He stared back at her, unable to tell if she was bluffing. He knew she’d come here throughout her childhood.
She tightened the straps on the backpack. ‘Thanks for your help. I’ll be sure to let my father know.’
She saw the insult register as she elucidated his place in the pecking order: an employee – albeit an important one – nothing more, nothing less.
She went to walk past but he blocked the door. ‘Twig—’ There was that shocked laugh again.
‘Don’t call me that,’ she said sharply, feeling her composure shake as he stood close to her now. She felt at the edge of her limits, her heart banging too fast. She knew if she were to take her pulse it would be high 140s, maybe higher. This was rapidly becoming more than she could bear. Now that the initial urgency of seeing to Jed was over, the shock of suddenly coming face to face with the man who had all but destroyed her life was overwhelming. She had promised herself she would never set eyes on him again. It was the condition she had set – sending it out into the universe – that had enabled her to get out of bed again after those first few desolate weeks . . . But now here he was, right in front of her. He worked for her father, of course, so she had known he would be at the handover this week – she had spent months refusing to think about it – but to bump into him in the middle of the jungle, in a land area of almost 20,000 square miles . . . she had thought her chances of avoiding him were pretty good.
‘Look. I’ll radio Jimenez and get him to go to Jed’s village and tell his wife, after they’ve handed Jed over. It’s not that far from the handover point.’
She shrugged. She could see, even if she would not admit it, that that was a much better solution. ‘Okay, fine. See ya.’ She turned away again so that he had to jump almost in front of her, blocking her path.
‘Tara, can we just . . . just take a second? Please?’
‘For what?’
He gave another baffled laugh, ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well, for one thing, I’ve not seen you in ten years. How are you?’
She blinked. And there it was – the easy lapse into pleasantries which in itself told her everything she hadn’t wanted to know: that he was happy to see her and therefore happy without her. He stood before her fulfilled, a man at ease, those three simple words drawing fresh blood and confirming all over again her conviction that she had never been to him what he had been to her; she had simply been his way to realize his lifetime ambition by the age of twenty-three. Of course he hadn’t looked back when he’d come here! Tasked with creating an entire national park, he wouldn’t even have looked up!
The plain fact of it was no less painful now than it had been then, even though she had gone on to make such a success of her life, excelling in her career, embracing the privileges she had once sought to hide, taking her place among the fashionable, good and great. She was wanted at parties and dinners, at keynote conferences and skiing trips. She had had a string of lovers who had been just diverting enough and now, of course, Rory, who made her feel so settled and content. And yet, standing before this man, it all felt like a mirage, a glittering image of a life but without any real substance. Three little words and she was exposed.
‘Goodbye, Alex.’ She walked past him, pushing the door so hard on its hinges it flew back and hit the wall. She was halfway down the steps back to the path when she heard him call out after her.
‘What about the boy?’
She didn’t stop. ‘There’s nothing that can be done now,’ she called back, not caring whether he heard or not. She just had to get away from here. She wouldn’t stay another minute.
Her heart advanced to a gallop as she got to the rough path that would – supposedly, eventually – take her off this mountain and back onto the flats, and then somewhere after that, the road. She saw how the track seemed to disappear into the leaves, but hadn’t they largely travelled in a straight line? She hadn’t been aware of any sharp left or right turns. She was pretty sure she could navigate her way back. Or, might she be able to catch the rangers? They were only, what, five, six minutes ahead of her? They’d set off at an almost-jog but she could catch them if she ran. They were carrying a full-grown man and she had a past to outrun; she’d catch them in no time. It was her best bet.
‘Tara.’ Alex was staring at her like she’d gone mad, his hand on her arm. ‘Could you please just wait?’
‘Get your hand off me. I need to catch up with them.’
‘Who . . .?’ He looked confused. Then surprised. ‘Mora and Jimenez?’ He gave a laugh. ‘No chance! Seriously, none.’
‘That’s just your opinion.’
‘No, that’s my experience,’ he countered with a look that told her he wasn’t joking. He was still holding on to her arm, as though he didn’t trust her not to make a break for it. She could feel the spread of his palm over her skin, the press of his fingertips. ‘And besides, we have to discuss next steps.’
‘There are no next steps. Jed’s getting medical help and I’m getting off this mountain before it gets dark.’
‘And what about his boy? He was distressed. We made a promise.’
‘Jed’s concussed, therefore promises mean nothing. He’ll already have forgotten all about it. Nothing can be done now anyway.’
‘But I know where Alto Uren is. I know the Guetares tribe and the plant you’re looking for.’
‘Oh! Well, good for you! Go get it then! Go be the hero!’ Her sarcasm was out-out now.
His eyes flashed with sudden anger too. ‘And in the meantime, wha
t? Leave you wandering through the jungle on your own?’
‘Trust me. I’m a big girl,’ she snapped. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Really? So if you encounter a cougar you’ll do what exactly . . .?’ He pointedly looked for signs of a weapon on her, something that could be used for self-defence. He seemed to have forgotten that his hand was still attached to her arm, the two of them joined and wrestling like a two-headed snake. ‘. . . No? Nothing?’
‘The chances of me encountering a cougar are low to nil.’
‘As low as encountering me?’ He stared back at her with a black light in his eyes. ‘And how about the men who attacked you? What if you meet them again?’
‘Why would I? Their issues are with Jed, not me.’
His mouth opened as he went to say something, then closed it again. He took several breaths and she watched him try to calm himself down. He dropped her arm from his grip and took a step back. Proximity had always been a problem for them, she remembered. They had never been able to think straight when they were too close. ‘Look, this is an either-or situation, Tara. I can either get you off this mountain or I can take you to Alto Uren, but not both.’ He planted his hands on his hips and blinked back at her. ‘I’d lose my job if your father found out I let you travel through the jungle, unprotected and alone.’
It was the return punch to her own slight. To her, he was just her father’s employee. To him, she was just his boss’s daughter.
She stared at him, hating him. She wondered how it could be that she had ever thought she loved him, that she had been prepared to give up her career, all her own ambitions and dreams, to share a life with him. He was self-centred, selfish, power-hungry, vain.
He read the contempt in her face and took another step back. ‘Just . . .’ he exhaled, looking bewildered that any of this was happening. That after ten years of silence, they’d gone straight into a fight. ‘Tell me about the boy. What’s wrong with him?’
Tara looked away. She didn’t want to think about that child right now. She didn’t want to be reminded of his suffering. She wanted to get away from here, away from him. ‘. . . I think it’s hepatitis, but it could be leukaemia and I can’t be sure without further testing.’ She kept her gaze well away, not interested in seeing the sadness in his eyes, his postures of compassion.
There was a silence. ‘How old is he?’
‘Six.’
‘And you think his hepatitis or leukaemia is going to be treated by a herbal medicine?’
She whipped back to face him. ‘No, of course I don’t! But it was the only way I could get his parents to agree to trying my methods. They have to pursue all their options as they see them; they have to see those fail first. Then they’ll let me intercede.’
He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘I’m only asking because there’s been some impressive reports about certain botanicals. I just didn’t figure they were your scene, that’s all.’
‘You don’t know what my scene is,’ she snapped. Although clearly he knew some things about her. She remembered now how he’d reeled off her position and title and place of work to the rangers; it hadn’t struck her at the time because she’d been more indignant that her professional opinion was going unheard, seemingly because she was a woman. ‘I go where the science leads me. I’ll do whatever I can for my patients. You’re not the only one who’ll do whatever it takes for their job.’
Anger reflected off every word, like sunlight on steel, dazzling him and forcing him back. They were quiet for several moments as she tried to recover herself. She wished she hadn’t said that – referred back to their past and how he’d hurt her. It suggested she was still wounded by it when, in truth, there was only scar tissue there now. She was simply exhausted by this afternoon’s turn of events, upset about what had happened to Jed. And now she had the shock of this to contend with.
‘So what do you want to do, then?’ he asked finally.
‘I want to get off this bloody mountain,’ she snapped again, unable to help herself. The sooner she got away from him, the better. She couldn’t bear it. It was like some kind of sick cosmic joke.
He nodded, as if he understood, but he didn’t. He never had. ‘Then I’ll lead you down. Just give me two minutes. I need to lock up.’
She stewed as she watched him head back up the steps again, still moving with that same languid lope, that easy SoCal manner. She felt furious, resentful. And guilty – because as much as he was the last person she had ever wanted to see again in this life, anywhere on this planet, as much as she detested him . . . she still couldn’t put that above a sick child who needed her help.
His hand was on the door handle now, ready to get her off this mountain and back in time for dinner. Was she really going to allow her personal feelings to colour her professional actions? She well knew that in this medical instance, to do nothing would be to do harm.
She sighed and shut her eyes, feeling the resentment burn. No. No. No.
‘. . . Alex, wait.’
Chapter Nineteen
Tara looked down from the microlight, her stomach feeling liquid at the sight of the jungle right below her feet. Giant, sprawling trees which from the ground blocked out the very sun, here looked like nothing more than broccoli florets. It was like travelling by bubble and felt no more secure, but Alex, sitting immediately in front of her, handled the controls with relaxed skill. Irritatingly, it made her feel safe. She wondered how many times he had flown one of these machines. Apparently, he had told her as they’d climbed in, it was the most efficient method for crossing the national park when the dense tree cover meant even helicopters couldn’t land. It would take half a day off their trek, enabling them to land in a spot only thirty miles from where they were trying to get to; she supposed that had to be considered a blessing – so long as they weren’t killed en route first. At a certain point, after they crossed the river, he told her, the jungle became a cloud forest, and there would be no hope of landing even a drone there; they would have to walk the rest of the way on foot. But half a day saved was half a day saved. She was grateful for whatever shortcuts they could find.
She looked down and as the minutes ticked past, began to relax. It was beautiful up here; the wind on her face stripped away the humidity momentarily, the mist of cascading waterfalls billowed above the trees, brightly coloured birds flew below and alongside them. She watched their own dramatic shadow glide silently over the ever-twitching, ever-shrieking jungle; her gaze traced the silhouetted peaks and folds of the land, saw how it pillowed up and sank again. Somewhere in her mind, a small voice pointed out that this was all hers – or technically, her family’s. They owned everything the eye could see. It was a dizzying thought. Fantastic, overwhelming, visionary.
She wondered vaguely whether Alex thought the same thing when he surveyed it like this too; he had to be proud of the achievement, surely? It had been his dazzlingly simple, revolutionary idea, after all – convince a billionaire to invest his fortune in one global problem. Protect one of the planet’s most fragile ecosystems by buying half a country! Why not!
She admired the concept itself. Philanthropy was big business, not just big charity, and there were always far too many egos and agendas, too many pies, too many middlemen. Her father had explained his reasoning for going with Alex’s pitch many times over the years, and she always nodded and smiled and agreed that it was a great idea. She had let him assume she had set up the introduction because she believed in the concept; that she hadn’t seen Alex since that night and their ‘friendship’ had suddenly dissolved simply because her part had been played, that that was why she hadn’t even bothered to be around for Alex’s pitch that weekend.
But she knew he – and certainly her mother – had suspicions too, wondering whether there was a connection between this legacy project and their daughter’s abrupt withdrawal from them. Her father despaired that she hadn’t been back to Costa Rica since, always citing weight of studies and work. He had no i
dea she had only agreed to come out here for the handover, ten years later, as a show of support for him, because she loved that he had done this and she loved him. That love was the only thing to outweigh the dread of seeing Alex at the ceremony and she had been careful to make sure she would have Holly and Dev and Rory by her side – not to mention Miles, who would deck him if Alex so much as looked in her direction. She didn’t like to think how her brother would react to the sight of her sitting half a metre from Alex in a plastic bubble in the sky.
He pointed out the vague direction of Alto Uren and where they would be trekking. It looked much the same as all the rest of the park – a long way down, steep, lots of trees – and she wondered how exactly they were supposed to find this one special plant. She also wondered why, if Alto Uren was over there, they were now travelling in the other direction?
Further and further away they flew, finally coming to land in an area with enough clearance. It was a bumpy stop, and she had to suppress a small cry of fright as they rolled along the ground on their small wheels – more like bike stabilizers than aircraft equipment – only just stopping in the shadow of a large boulder.
Alex unbuckled his harness and jumped out, offering her his hand; but she ignored it and got herself out. She was an adult like that. She could do things on her own.
She looked at their equipment, now packed in two large rucksacks. They had had something of an upgrade from the first leg. Holly’s enthusiastic Girl Guide packed lunch efforts had been replaced by something far more Bear Grylls. When she had given him the nod for continuing the expedition into the hills, Alex had gone into the station’s Lost Property trunk and found her a belt (thank God!) and some walking boots in her size. He’d then disappeared into the stores, below the deck, and emerged forty minutes later with two huge rucksacks almost as big as her. They now had sleeping hammocks and tarps, camping towels, a camping stove, fire-starter kits, torches and head torches, water purifier tablets, and a selection of knives including some for her, ‘in case we’re separated’ – the look he’d given her as he’d said that had suggested he half expected her to run off again. Now all they had to do was carry it all for thirty miles there and thirty miles back again. It was beginning to feel a little daunting.