Stranded

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Stranded Page 8

by Sarah Goodwin


  ‘They’ll be happy to see you, when you get back,’ I said. ‘You’ll have so many things to catch up on and talk about.’

  She nodded, dabbing her eyes. ‘I know. It’s just … hard, missing them – and Douglas of course, my husband. He’s probably drowning in washing by now. Never did learn how to use the machine. But we’re all missing someone, aren’t we? You must be looking forward to seeing everyone at home?’

  I shrugged, not willing to bare my soul to her, to anyone, now that I knew it could be used against me later. ‘Like you said, we’re all missing someone.’

  *

  As predicted, Zoe and Shaun hadn’t found much. The sum total of their gathering was some nettles and what Zoe claimed was wild parsnip, but was undoubtedly poison hemlock, which I discarded. Zoe also had her shirt on inside-out. I didn’t fancy talking to her, not with the hurt still fresh in my chest. I noticed Gill nudge Maxine and the two of them regarded Zoe’s clothing situation with raised eyebrows. More gossip for the mill.

  Frank hadn’t returned to camp, so I went off and looked for mushrooms. There weren’t that many to be found. Still, a handful was better than nothing. At least it would add texture to our watery soup.

  When I got back to camp Frank still wasn’t there. Everyone was gathered around the outdoor fire and trying to work out what to do. It was getting late in the day. In another hour it would start getting dark.

  ‘We should go and look for him by the tidal pools,’ Maxine said, as I put my bag down and joined the discussion.

  ‘He could have gone anywhere on the island from there. We should split into pairs and go check all the beaches,’ Shaun said, earning him a shoulder squeeze from Zoe. I’d never thought of Shaun as being keen on the stoic fisherman, but he was clearly worried.

  ‘Someone should stay here in case he comes back,’ I said.

  ‘Like who?’ Duncan said.

  ‘Any of us. We all did that first-aid course, didn’t we?’

  ‘I’ll stay,’ Gill said immediately.

  ‘All right, Gill stays here, to wait and get dinner started, and the rest of us can go look,’ Shaun said, already standing up and putting his backpack on. ‘We’ve already wasted enough time.’

  We quickly organised ourselves and found our torches. Maxine insisted we all take sterile packs of bandages from the first-aid kit in case Frank was injured. Shaun and Zoe headed down to the tidal pools on the east side of the island. Duncan and Andrew went south-west to check the fishing hut and the beach we’d arrived on. Maxine and I would go north to the craggy rocks and small pebble beaches. If Frank wasn’t found we were all to walk counterclockwise around to the next point of searching, thereby covering the entire coastline.

  No one wanted to decide what we’d do if we still hadn’t found him.

  Maxine and I hiked north up the steep, pine-covered hill. At the island’s highest point, I looked down into the gathering gloom. At this time of day the pines looked especially sinister, the wind rocking their branches like a second sea. In the distance I could just make out the shape of the portacabin where the cameramen were. That too was in darkness.

  ‘Maybe we should tell them – just in case. It might take hours to get emergency help out here,’ I said.

  ‘Makes sense – one of us should keep looking though.’

  ‘I can,’ I said. ‘I’ll carry on around the shore.’

  We split up and I picked my way down to the island’s edge. There were many cliffs on the northern side, but eventually I found a way down to the water. Clinging to the barnacle-covered rocks I looked along the shore, called Frank’s name and felt the growing wind snatch my words away. The temperature plummeted and soon it began to rain, hard.

  It was now well and truly dark and the beam from my torch picked out a mess of footprints in the sand. I’d reached the fishing hut and the others had already searched there. I decided to head back to see if Frank had been found.

  Slipping and sliding my way uphill I noticed that the stream was already flowing fast. The rain was really coming in and we had not been ready for it. I could barely feel my hands in the freezing downpour, God only knew what condition Frank would be in if he was out in the open.

  When I finally arrived in the clearing it was to see one of the camera guys leaving. He passed me by in a drenched waterproof, his face set in an angry frown.

  ‘Is Frank here?’ I asked. ‘Is he all right? What’s happening?’

  ‘They found him. Next time you guys drag me out of bed in the middle of the night, in the middle of a fucking storm, it had better be an emergency.’ He stomped off into the trees, swearing as he stumbled in the dark.

  I shifted the rocks that held the door curtain down and went into the hut. Frank was lying on his bedroll, surrounded by the others, minus Andrew and Duncan.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked, going straight to Frank’s side. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Frank croaked. ‘Just fell.’

  ‘He fell on the rocks at the tidal pools,’ Zoe put in. ‘His ankle’s all swollen and he got cut up on the bar­­nacles. We bandaged it.’

  ‘Did you wash his leg before you put the dressing on?’ Gill demanded.

  ‘Yes.’ Zoe gave her a look. ‘I’m not an idiot. I used some Dettol as well.’

  ‘He needs a cold compress on the ankle,’ Gill said.

  ‘I’ll find something,’ I said. There was a spare flannel in my bag. Maxine came over while I was wetting it from the water carrier.

  ‘He wasn’t very impressed – the cameraman.’

  ‘No, he didn’t seem it. But it could have been more serious.’

  Maxine nodded. ‘Though to be fair if I was asleep in a warm cabin I wouldn’t want to go out in that rain either. It took a lot of convincing to get him to come down to camp to see if Frank was back – he didn’t want to call in the cavalry without cause. Good thing he didn’t or we’d be surrounded by annoyed producers and paramedics right now.’

  I handed the flannel to Gill and she wrapped it around Frank’s ankle. Zoe went to grab some clothes to wad up and create an ankle rest.

  Frank sighed and closed his eyes. ‘Stop fussing.’

  ‘You had us really worried, mate,’ Shaun said.

  ‘No use worrying … but I’m glad you came along. No chance of a nip or something for the pain?’

  Shaun went to check but returned empty-handed, unable to find the remaining whisky. The curtain rustled and Duncan came in, followed by Andrew. Both were drenched to the skin and rain dripped from their jackets and all over the compacted dirt floor.

  ‘Thank fuck, was hoping one of you lot found him,’ Andrew said. ‘Jesus, Frank, you gave us a scare and a half.’

  ‘No bother. I just had a bit of a slip on the rocks. Couldn’t walk on my ankle. I knew one of you lot would come looking after a while. Took you long enough though.’

  I glanced up and found Duncan glaring at me. He quickly looked away, but guilt had already lanced through me. I knew logically that Frank could have fallen while fishing or been injured any number of ways. The accident was not my fault for involving him in foraging – I knew that. But that didn’t stop me from feeling terrible.

  ‘So, now the excitement’s over, what’s cooking?’ Andrew asked Gill.

  ‘I haven’t had time to get started on anything,’ Gill said, flushing. ‘I was getting ready in case we needed to administer serious first aid.’

  There was no evidence of this. There was, however, an open novel on her bed. She noticed me look at it and blushed further.

  ‘Who’s on rota for dinner today?’ Duncan asked.

  ‘Frank and Shaun,’ Gill said.

  ‘I’ll help,’ I said immediately.

  We built the fire up in the hearth. What with Zoe and Shaun not finding anything useful and Frank obviously having not been able to gather, we had only what Maxine and I had brought. The result was a soup similar to what we ate every night. Mostly it was water, stock cubes, wild greens and mus
hrooms, with a little pepper and some lentils. As usual it cried out for crisp bacon, bread and butter. None of us were satisfied with our meal.

  The rain continued to sigh and rattle against the panels of the hut. Some seeped through at the edges of the floor. The smoke hole let in a barrage of rain which hissed into the fire.

  We sat, huddled around the hearth, nursing cups of hot water with a suggestion of coffee in them. Zoe and Shaun had his sleeping bag draped around them. Maxine was wearing a fleece over her pyjamas. I had a blanket around me like a shawl.

  Duncan cleared his throat. ‘I think we can all agree that this is pretty miserable.’

  There were murmurs of agreement and I joined in.

  ‘Until now we’ve been quite lucky, we’ve not been trapped indoors like this. But when the weather starts to get bad – when we have to live out the winter here – things could get uncomfortable pretty quickly.’

  ‘We’ve been talking,’ Andrew put in, ‘about building a cabin – like we talked about when we arrived. A log cabin, to give us more space. Now we’ve got a good shelter to be going on with we can afford to build something that might take a bit longer.’

  ‘So we need to get the work party on it,’ Duncan said. ‘It seems like the most worthwhile thing we can be doing with our time.’

  He didn’t say ‘rather than foraging’, but it was there all the same. I’d had part of the work party on my side for a single day and we hadn’t produced results. Worse, there had been an injury. I felt too awful about Frank to raise any objections.

  ‘That settles that then,’ said Duncan.

  It was the beginning of the end then. I sort of felt it at the time but, had no idea what that prickle of unease might mean. I’d lost a battle without even realising it, and a tiny bit more control was his for the taking.

  Chapter 10

  I sense my interviewer’s unease in the quick, constant movement of her hands. They flutter like nervous birds as she picks her acrylic nails and twists her rings. A hair and makeup person approaches from behind her and I divert them with a glare. I’ve seen off every attempt to mask the lines around my mouth and eyes, the scars on my face and hands.

  My shorn hair is growing in and has been freshly washed. My clothes are ones provided by the wardrobe team; none of my old things fit anymore and I haven’t had time to buy anything other than leggings and hoodies. The thick Fair Isle jumper and dungarees are ridiculously picturesque, as if I’ve spent a year raising goats and smiling brightly at sunsets. They are warm though and painfully thin as I am, I need the insulation.

  Camera people start calling out and someone dashes past us. The lights grow slightly brighter and the interviewer receives her cue.

  ‘Good evening, I’m Rosie Donnelly and tonight I’m here with Madeline Holinstead, one of the Buidseach Island survivors. Maddy – now that the trial is over, we are all dying to hear your story. What can you tell us about what happened on Buidseach Isle and your miraculous rescue?’

  Rosie smiles like a lightbulb, bright and empty. I do not return her expression but meet her gaze with my own, feeling my heart beat steadily in my chest, like the pounding of the waves.

  ‘I’m going to tell you everything that happened on that island, but I’d like to say something before I start.’

  ‘Of course,’ Rosie says smoothly, moving a little closer, as though we are friends and she is waiting for a whispered secret. ‘We’re here for your story.’

  ‘So, let me be clear: my story has no miracles, and no rescue. I survived. I escaped. And despite the best efforts of everyone else involved, I’m here to tell you about what we did on that island.’ I sit back and think for a moment that I see a familiar dark shape just beyond the halo of studio lights. I take a breath that smells of hairspray and pine needles.

  ‘I’m going to tell you what no one else can stomach … the truth.’

  Chapter 11

  Following the disaster of work-party foraging, all efforts were directed towards building our cabin. In the mornings we worked to cut down and strip trees. All of us as one big work party, minus Frank.

  The afternoons, however, were a different story. Andrew and Duncan, our primary builders, saw their work as being done. They mostly hung out around the fire chatting, or as the weather got warmer and we slid into June, they went diving off the rocks near the beach, staying there until late. Gill invariably joined them, though I suspected she was mostly an audience. Some-times Shaun went with them. On one occasion they came back obviously drunk. The missing whisky was no longer a mystery; but no one else seemed to notice, or at least, they didn’t say anything.

  The island had stopped feeling like a new and bewildering place. It was starting to feel, if not like home, then at least like a familiar holiday destination. We were no longer out in the open and scrambling for shelter. Our hut was warm and our routine established. Waking up to campfire meals and a cold shower was starting to feel normal.

  The argument over foraging had not been forgotten. I imagined that somewhere a producer was happy about that; after all, it made for good television. It made things awkward for me though. For her part, Maxine never got really nasty about Zoe to me again. I suspected she was taking that kind of thing to Gill. The two of them were getting quite chummy, despite Gill’s laziness. After what Maxine had said about Zoe I found it hard to really trust her again. I wasn’t sure she noticed that I wasn’t really reciprocating in our conversations. I began to see that she was talking to my camera, rather than me.

  Our rabbits were doing well – several escape attempts notwithstanding. There had been some efforts at trapping more wild rabbits for the pot. None had been particularly successful. Mostly it was Shaun who went, as I was busy foraging.

  The food situation wasn’t getting easier and although we weren’t starving, our staples were running low. Frank wasn’t bringing in any fish while he was injured, and nothing in the allotment was ripe yet. To date, Gill had supplied only a handful of green tomatoes. So when Andrew found another cache down by the beach it was like Christmas day. The sight of pasta and rice had smiles going all around. Then the bombshell.

  ‘If this stuff is going to last we need to really step up our game on the rationing,’ Andrew said, snapping the lid closed. ‘We’ve been talking and we think we ought to cut back to two meals a day – no dinners.’

  ‘Should we not discuss things like this all together?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s what we’re doing now,’ Andrew said.

  ‘But after you guys have already made up your minds.’

  ‘Do you not think it’s a good idea?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘It seems like a good idea, but—’

  ‘Then why are you arguing about it?’ he said, raising his voice slightly.

  ‘What about our energy levels?’ Zoe said, cutting off whatever else Andrew was about to say. ‘Won’t we get hungry and tired and not be able to get on with stuff?’

  ‘That’s why we’re cutting out dinner – we don’t need calories to sleep on. We’ll eat while we work and then when we rest we’ll be saving food.’

  ‘What about foraging?’ I asked. ‘At the moment I have to do that in the afternoon – and we eat what I find for dinner. We’re losing nutrients if we don’t eat greens and things until the next day.’

  ‘Fucking Christ,’ Duncan muttered, audibly.

  ‘If you have something to say—’

  ‘Well, do you have to bitch about everything?’ Duncan demanded.

  ‘For God’s sake, what is your issue with me?’ I said, stung.

  ‘I don’t have an “issue” with you. It’s the fucking bitching I can’t stand.’

  ‘I’m not bitching, I’m pointing out that we could be shooting ourselves in the foot if we don’t make use of foraged ingredients while they’re fresh.’

  ‘So you want to bunk off the work party, is that what you’re saying?’

  There was a long moment of very tense silence.

  ‘I wouldn’t be th
e only one,’ I said, finally. ‘When was the last time Gill was in the work party?’

  ‘Gill is taking care of Frank, who you got injured with your nagging about foraging!’

  ‘And yet somehow Gill isn’t caring for Frank when it’s time to fuck off down the beach for the afternoon with the rest of you!’

  Gill squawked in outrage and Duncan jumped to his feet. For a fraction of a second I thought he was going to hit me. His face was red and blotchy, his eyes dark slivers beneath his creased brow. His hands were clenched into fists. Shaun leapt up as well and held his arms out.

  ‘Look, it’s gettin’ a bit heated so maybe we should all calm down …’

  Zoe was standing beside Shaun now, echoing the need for a moment’s calm. Somehow Duncan had been persuaded back onto his seat but was shaking his head and muttering angrily to Andrew. Gill, on his other side, fixed me with a glare as hurt as it was mutinous.

  ‘Let’s just all leave it and we can talk more tomorrow morning,’ Shaun said.

  ‘Fine,’ Andrew said.

  I nodded. In truth I was as angry as Duncan seemed to be. It wasn’t fair that Gill didn’t have to join the work party. But mostly I was annoyed at Maxine and Zoe. Both of them had done their share of complaining about the others, in private. Yet around the fire they remained silent and let me get all the stick for putting my head above the parapet.

  The next morning I got up and as usual we congregated around the outdoor fire. Andrew and Shaun were rota’ed on for cooking. Maxine, the earliest riser of us all, had lit the fire and was boiling water for tea. Everything else was in the hands of Shaun, already wiping sleep from his eyes at the fireside, and Andrew, who was still asleep. Shaun was keen to make a start, but we needed Andrew’s key to the rations. Gill sat on the opposite side of the fire to me and wouldn’t look at me or talk to me directly.

  At last, after we’d drunk cups of watery tea that tasted of woodsmoke, Andrew appeared. He and Duncan were already dressed and awake. I got the sense that they’d been talking in the hut for a while.

 

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