by C. L. Taylor
‘Honor!’ As he reaches the small clearing and the circle of tree stumps that surrounds it, he shouts his girlfriend’s name. ‘Where are you?’
He hears the squawk of birds and the treetops above his head rustle as two beautiful blue and orange kingfishers make their escape. But there’s no human reply to his shout. Honor’s either ignoring him or she’s further away than he thought. Danny pulls the bottom of his T-shirt up to his forehead and rubs it over his face, then swigs from his water bottle. It’s not as hot in the jungle as it is on the beach under the constant glare of the sun, but it’s humid as hell and his body is slick with sweat. He looks around the small space, searching for footprints or tunnels made through the undergrowth, any sign that his girlfriend has passed this way, but there’s nothing. He’d have to battle through the thick foliage to find a way through. He turns and heads back towards the waterfall, pausing at the bottom of a small dirt track that leads up out of the jungle to the cliff tops above. Could she have headed up there?
There’s only one way to find out, he thinks as he starts to walk.
The worry Danny felt as he set off to find Honor has morphed into irritation. It took him for ever to scale the rough, stony route to the cliff top and now that he’s reached it, it’s obvious that Honor’s not up here. He sits on the edge of the brown rock, legs dangling, and stares down at the green-blue sea twenty metres below. He can hear voices on the beach, down to his right, but he can’t see anything because his view is blocked by the green bushes that cling to the cliff face.
‘Danny!’ He hears his name being called but doesn’t respond. Instead he lifts his foot and examines the sole. He slipped on the walk up the cliff and one of his flip-flops came off. He cut his foot on a sharp sliver of rock as he stopped to retrieve it. His foot’s still bleeding. The blood rolls off his heel and drips, disappearing before it hits the water below.
‘Danny! Where are you?’ Honor’s shout drifts up towards him. She’s on the beach!
‘Danny!’ she shouts again. There’s a note of urgency in her voice that makes him scrabble to his feet, wincing as he puts weight on his cut foot.
‘Honor!’ He cups his hands to his mouth as he shouts then waits, squinting into the sun, for her reply.
None comes.
‘Honor!’ he shouts again.
A dozen different thoughts flood his mind – a boat has turned up to save them? They’ve discovered a way off the island? Or maybe… Honor’s hurt?
The thought makes his heart pound painfully in his chest. He’s got to get back to his girlfriend but it will take him for ever to walk back down to the beach on his injured foot. He stares down at the sea – still, calm and clear below him – then, before he can change his mind, he steps off the cliff.
Chapter 9
JESSIE
‘What the hell was that?’
I’m not the only one who freezes as a loud splash, like a rock – or a person – falling into the sea, cuts through the cawing of the gulls. Milo, wading through the shallows with one of Anuman’s pointed fishing poles in his hand, snaps round, spear outstretched, pointing it in the direction of the sound. A second later his eyes meet mine. We’re both thinking the same thing – is it the ‘others’ we speculated about? Another group living on the other side of the island?
Honor, clambering on the rocks to our left, freezes. Shortly after Danny disappeared to go and look for her she appeared at the far end of the beach, her arms full and gathered up to her chest.
‘I’ve been beachcombing,’ she said as she drew closer and deposited her treasure next to the fire. ‘I found some empty plastic bottles washed up just past those rocks. I thought we could use them to keep water in. Until we’re, you know, rescued.’
We filled them at the waterfall, then went through everyone’s rucksacks to see how much food we had. It wasn’t much of a haul, just a couple of packets of crisps and biscuits, a few sticks of gum, some sweets, two bottles of vodka (one in Danny’s bag, one in Meg’s) and a bottle of rum Milo had nabbed from his parents’ duty-free allowance. Jeffers was a bit weird when we asked him if we could go through his bag. Instead of letting us have a rummage he took himself off into the jungle and came back with three packets of dried meat, a can of mixed beans and a can of tuna. Milo joked that he probably had a massive bar of chocolate and a Victoria sponge hidden in the bottom of his rucksack too, but, when he tried to grab his rucksack off him, Jeffers snatched it away and moved to the edge of the camp. That didn’t go down well with Milo, who shouted that he wouldn’t be alive to eat whatever he was hiding if I hadn’t saved his life. Then he stomped off to look for Danny, muttering something about Bear Grylls and how sticking together was the first rule of survival.
I’ve got no idea how long Milo was gone – none of us wear a watch and all our mobile phones ran out of juice last night – but when he returned his hair was slicked back and his T-shirt was clinging to his body. No sign of Danny, he said. God knows where he’d gone. We all got worried then, everyone apart from Honor, who was sitting on the sand by the fire with a strange, glazed look on her face. Meg pulled her to her feet, reassuring her that Danny would be fine and he couldn’t have gone far.
‘It’s Danny!’ Honor shouts now, waving frantically from the rocks. ‘He just fell off the cliff.’
I feel sick with fear. The cliffs must be at least twenty metres tall and if Danny landed into the shallows or on the rocks then—
‘He’s OK!’ she screams. ‘He’s swimming. He’s still alive.’
‘Bloody hell, Danny!’
‘Are you OK?’
‘What happened?’
‘Was it an accident?’
‘Did you fall?’
‘Did someone push you?’
The questions come thick and fast as Danny reaches out a hand and Milo pulls him out of the sea and onto the rocks. Unlike Jeffers and I – who could barely breathe when we came out of the sea – Danny seems totally fine. Never mind broken bones, there isn’t a scratch on him and the smallest of smiles pricks at his lips as he looks up at us all crowded around him.
His smile fades. ‘Where’s Honor?’
Meg and I move apart from each other so he can see his girlfriend, standing behind us, sobbing softly.
‘Hey, hey.’ Danny gets to his feet and pulls her into his arms. ‘It’s OK, I’m fine. Honor, I’m fine.’
‘What happened?’ I ask as she nestles into his chest, her hands covering her face. ‘What were you doing up on the cliffs?’
‘Looking for her.’ He strokes the back of her head, smoothing down her blonde hair. ‘I heard her calling my name and thought she was in trouble. Jumping was the fastest way to get back down.’
Honor moans in torment and mumbles something I can’t make out. Danny cranes his neck to listen.
‘What was that, babe? It wasn’t your fault. You know that, don’t you?’
She raises her voice but keeps her hands clamped over her face. ‘You could have died!’
‘But I didn’t, did I?’ He kisses the top of her head. ‘It looks like you’re stuck with me, babe.’
‘That’s why she’s crying,’ Milo says and everyone, apart from Honor, laughs with relief.
It’s a warm night, and the black sky is dotted with twinkling stars, but there’s a strange, strained atmosphere as we pass Milo’s bottle of rum and one of the bottles of vodka between us. Jeffers isn’t joining in. He’s holed himself away in the shelter and is lying on his back with his head on his rucksack and his arms crossed over his chest. When I go over to check on him he opens his eyes then closes them again.
‘You all right?’ I crouch down on the pile of banana leaves that serve as a very thin, very uncomfortable mattress. ‘You know Milo was only joking earlier, about going through your bag. If you want to keep whatever’s in there private, that’s cool.’
‘It’s not that.’ He opens his eyes to look at me. ‘I just… you all think I’m a joke, don’t you?’
‘No! God no.
It’s cool that you’re into all this. Honestly. No one thinks you’re a joke. I know the banter can get a bit much sometimes but no one wants to upset you.’
‘But it is a joke, isn’t it? All this?’ He gestures towards the beach. ‘Dad showing off how rich he is by renting an island for my birthday. I didn’t even want this. I asked for a book and some pieces of equipment. And now Anuman’s dead we’re all alone and there’s nothing I can do to put things right…’ He turns his head away but not so quickly that I don’t see the tears glistening in his eyes.
‘That’s why you tried to swim for it, isn’t it? Because you felt responsible for what happened.’
‘And I couldn’t even do that properly. I nearly drowned us both.’
I rest my hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. I… I was in shock.’
‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘I deserved it.’
‘You didn’t, Jeffers. You were freaking out and you didn’t realize what you were doing. We’ll get through this. It’s going to be OK.’
He sits up and reaches out his arms. ‘Hug?’
I smile and lean in towards him. He holds me tightly, his hands gripping my shoulder blades. He really is scared. I can’t remember the last time he gave anyone a hug.
After I leave Jeffers in the shelter I head down to the beach, rather than return to the fire. So much has happened today that I need some time alone to clear my head. Danny shouts after me, demanding that I take my turn with the vodka, but, from the way his words slur together, it sounds as though he’s had his turn, my turn and then some. Honor, on the other hand, has barely said a word all evening. I’ve never seen her as tearful as she’s been this holiday. She’s always been a bit funny about showing a vulnerable side. She’s like a YouTuber, all smiles and fun when she’s the centre of attention, but I’ve seen sneak peeks of the other side, when I’ve stumbled across her and Danny, sitting alone. She speaks quietly and there’s a brittle tone to her voice that isn’t there when we all hang out together.
When we were twelve she turned up to our group holiday in the Lake District with just her mum. I wasn’t surprised. There had been a few holidays when one or the other of us had arrived with just one parent because of work or other issues. But it wasn’t until the very last day of the holiday, when I overheard my parents talking in their bedroom in hushed voices, that I found out that Honor’s dad had met someone on the internet and moved to Australia to be with her. You’d never have known that Honor’s dad had abandoned her, the way she behaved that holiday. She’d seemed the same as ever, maybe even happier and chirpier. Overcompensating, I guess.
Years earlier, when we were nine, it was Danny’s mum who didn’t show up. Even before the holiday I knew something was up because I heard my parents talking about her and Danny’s dad, and the minute I walked into the living room they swiftly changed the subject. They told me what had happened the next day and said I should be extra nice to Danny the next time I saw him. I could tell he’d changed the second he stepped out of his dad’s car. Instead of grinning widely and bouncing over to the rest of us as normal, he crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at us from across the car park. When we asked him how he was he said he didn’t want to talk about it. The rest of us let it drop but Jefferson refused to. I don’t know if he thought he was being funny, or if he was revelling in the fact that he’d finally found a button to push which would wind Danny up, but he wouldn’t stop asking him about his mum. When he said, ‘My mum says it’s good to talk about your feelings, why won’t you talk about yours?’ Danny went white and threw a punch. The next thing I knew they were on the ground, fists flying. I was terrified that one of them was going to die, but when they were pulled apart by Meg and Milo’s dad, their only injuries were a split lip and a bloody nose. Jeffers hasn’t mentioned Danny’s mum since. Neither has Danny.
As I reach the sea I can see the boat on the other side of the beach, gently bobbing on the waves. I don’t turn to get a better look. No one’s mentioned Anuman since Danny fell off the cliff, even though we had to walk straight past his body to get back to camp. I tried not to look at the boat but it was like telling myself not to breathe: I couldn’t help it. The sound of laughter from the camp drifts across the beach. Instinctively I pull the sleeves of my top down over my hands even though they’ve all seen my burns now. I saw Danny’s eyes roam across my arms as I sat on the beach with Milo, gasping for breath. I saw his reaction too – shock, then revulsion.
‘I don’t care what he thinks of me,’ I tell myself as I pinch the thin skin of my forearm until it smarts. ‘I don’t care what anyone thinks.’
I lie on my back, staring up into the inky black sky, listening to the sounds of the jungle and the gentle lapping of the sea, until my breathing starts to slow and my eyelids grow heavy. There’s a part of my brain needling at me to go back to the camp where it’s safe, but my limbs are heavy and leaden and the bigger part of my brain is adrift, thoughts muddling as I slip closer to sleep. Images appear and disappear behind my closed eyes – the sea, the glare of the sun, my parents’ faces, school, a packet of cigarettes, a bottle of cider, Tom.
And then I see the fire.
I sit up with a jolt, sand slipping between my fingers and stare, confused by darkness that surrounds me and the gentle lapping of the waves.
‘Jessie! Shit, sorry. You were asleep.’ Milo is crouched beside me, a bottle of rum in his hand. ‘You were so still and, after everything that’s happened today, I was scared you were…’ he tails off, shaking his head and takes a swig from the bottle. ‘Never mind.’ He passes it to me. ‘Want some?’
‘Sure.’ I reach for it. The rum warms my throat, then I feel it hit my stomach. I haven’t eaten much today, none of us have. That’s why everyone’s so pissed on a few swigs of vodka.
‘You doing OK?’ Milo props himself up on one elbow and looks at me. ‘I still can’t get my head around what’s happened.’
My gaze drifts towards the boat, gently bobbing near the shoreline, and Anuman’s boots sticking out from beneath the tarpaulin, casting a dark shadow onto the sea. ‘I know what you mean.’
‘I just… I keep expecting someone to pop out from the jungle and shout, Surprise! You’re on a new reality TV show. Anuman isn’t really dead and you’re not really marooned.’ He reaches for the rum and takes a swig. His eyes meet mine as he lowers the bottle. I feel sick, knowing he saw me in my underwear earlier, my skin all twisted and red.
A frown creases Milo’s brow. ‘You sure you’re OK?’
‘Yeah, just um… just worried about Jeffers. He’s blaming himself for what’s happened.’ I lie back in the sand and stare up at the stars.
Milo shuffles onto his back and does the same. ‘It’s not his fault. But I still want to know what’s in his bag!’ He laughs and, out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn his head to look at me. ‘Do you think he’s hiding something?’
‘What like?’
‘I dunno. A severed head.’ He laughs again. ‘This island would be a pretty good place to dispose of body parts.’
‘That’s sick.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting we actually do it. Unless, you know, you fancy offing Meg.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘She keeps giving me evils.’
I laugh. ‘She’s your sister. She’s always done that.’
He doesn’t say anything for several seconds then he sighs heavily. ‘She’s pissed off with me and I’m not sure why.’
I turn to look at him. I want to tell him about the way Meg was watching me by the hotel pool the other evening but I don’t want to shit-stir for no reason. Meg and Milo are for ever falling out and, because they’re both as stubborn as each other, they can go for days without talking. But then one of them will finally relent, there’ll be a raging row and they’ll make up again.
‘Have you talked to her?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, no, sort of. Sorry. I’m talking shit. I’m a bit drunk.’
He smiles and closes his eyes. I watch as his body relaxes and he inhales deeply, breathing in the salty sea air. I’ve looked at his face a thousand times and I still think he’s the best-looking boy I’ve ever seen. His eyelashes are ridiculously thick and long and, beneath his closed lids, his eyes are the warmest brown. His nose is long and straight, his lips full and—
Urrgh. I roll onto my back and cover my face with my hands.
What am I doing? Why do I do this to myself?
I just had the strongest urge to lean over and kiss him, which is ridiculous because Milo isn’t interested in me. If he was, something would have happened between us years ago. He’s just a friend, one that likes a bit of a flirt occasionally, but there’s nothing more to it than that. I reach the fingers of my right hand over to my left forearm and I’m just about to pinch my skin when I sense that I’m being watched.
‘Why do you do that?’ Milo’s brown eyes bore into me.
‘Do what?’
‘Pinch yourself. I’ve seen you do it a few times over the last couple of days. You never used to do it before.’
‘I’m not pinching myself. I’m just… itching.’
There’s a pause and my stomach clenches as I brace myself for an onslaught of questions. But Milo doesn’t push the subject. Instead he sighs and says, ‘Do you really think there’s someone else on the other side of the island?’
‘I don’t know. Do you think we should look? Tomorrow, when it’s light?’
‘What if they’re bad guys?’
Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘Bad guys, Mr Katsaro? How old are you? Five?’
‘Six. Nearly. It’s my birthday tomorrow. We’re going to Laser Quest. Want to come? Oh, look at that!’ He sits up and points up into the sky as something white whizzes overhead. ‘What do you reckon? Meteorite, UFO or plane?’
‘It could be a shooting star.’
‘Yeah, one with wings and two hundred passengers. I’d wave for help but I can’t be arsed to move.’ He slumps back onto the sand, arms spread wide. His right hand lands so close to my left that our little fingers touch. I don’t snatch my hand away. Neither does Milo.