‘It can wait,’ she told Tom. ‘It’s just a scratch.’
Her knee could wait, too, even though it was hurting badly now. By the time they reached the road it was getting hard to disguise the fact that she couldn’t put her whole weight on that leg. What would Tom do if he saw her limping?
Carry her to where her son was?
Probably.
She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let herself be dependent on Tom in any way.
Not physically. And definitely not emotionally. Dear Lord...even under these circumstances, that touch of his fingers on her face had woken memories that had pushed insistently into her mind as she’d walked on.
The way he’d once played with her toes, for example, when they’d been curled up on a couch together, watching television. Idle touching that would morph into a truly excellent foot massage until they both lost interest in the movie and her feet would be neglected in favour of more exciting parts of her body for him to touch.
The way he’d held her head when they’d kissed, with his fingers woven through her hair and pressing onto her scalp.
The way he would lie beside her, when they were both completely naked, usually in the aftermath of making love, and he would use his fingertips so gently. He would trace the entire outline of her body as if he was drawing her shape in sand. Or committing it to memory.
How could a single touch unleash so many memories? Abby had had no idea they were still lurking so close to the surface. She had to bury them and make sure they were deep enough this time. She had to protect herself.
She could do this. Shut the memories away and not react to any touch, accidental or otherwise. And she’d make sure she didn’t start depending on Tom. Not emotionally and not physically.
Not even as a co-parent.
He might think he wanted to get involved in Jack’s life now but how long would that last? How available would he be if some exciting mission came up? What if Jack was holding his breath, waiting for his dad to make an appearance at a school play or a prizegiving and Tom didn’t show up because he’d been called back to work or his helicopter happened to have crashed on that particular day?
Oh...good grief...
Abby allowed enough of her weight to go onto her bad knee to send a sharp twinge right through her body as a kind of wake-up call.
As if she didn’t have enough to worry about right now. Yet here she was, imagining a worst-case scenario for something in a future that wasn’t even on the horizon. Tom hadn’t even met his son. He certainly hadn’t said anything about wanting to be a part of their lives.
They had turned off the main cliff road now, where the signpost to the tourist attraction of the old copper mine was still standing, albeit at a drunken angle.
Maybe it was some kind of a defence mechanism, Abby excused herself. By looking into the future, perhaps she was giving herself the reassurance that they would get through the tension and fear of their present situation.
That Jack would be okay and he’d go on to do a school play or excel at something enough to be deemed worthy of a special prize. Not that she needed him to win any prizes. All she wished for was that her little boy would be safe. And grow up happy.
So why did she invent disasters for the future? Was she incapable of imagining something wonderful?
Like...like Jack getting his first puppy, for instance. His face shining with joy. His dad on the floor beside him, playing with the pup and offering silly suggestions for names. His mum there, too. Taking pictures to add to the family album. Laughing at the puppy’s antics. Knowing that this happy moment would become a treasured memory.
Abby’s breath escaped in something far too close to a sob.
This was why she conjured up disasters and not joyful moments. Because the pain of knowing those moments would never happen was too much.
The longing hurt, dammit. And, right now, it was worse than ever because he was here. And he’d touched her face as if he cared and it had made her remember too much.
Tom had slowed his pace. He’d heard that sound of distress she’d been unable to stifle.
‘You’re limping.’ The words were an accusation.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Dammit, Abby. Be honest for once. What’s hurting?’
Abby almost laughed aloud. He wanted her to be honest? If he knew what had really hurt her, he’d run a mile.
That joyous glimpse into an imaginary future for her would no doubt represent a disaster for Tom Kendrick. A family hanging around his neck like a millstone. Holding him back from the adrenaline rush of hurling himself into danger at every opportunity. Of being a real-life hero. Admired by all and loved by many.
That sweet-little-puppy scenario she’d lost herself in for a few moments wasn’t going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
‘It’s my knee,’ was what she did say. ‘I gave it a bump, way back, when the earthquake first happened. It’s just getting a bit stiff now, that’s all.’
Moz had come back to where Tom was walking more slowly beside Abby.
‘How far have we still got to go?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ Abby said. ‘Not too far, I think.’
For a minute or two the three of them walked in silence.
‘Hey...’ The call was female. And faint. ‘Is someone there? I can see a light. Help...we’re up here. Help...’
Tom’s voice rang out clearly in the night air. ‘We’re coming,’ he shouted. ‘Hold on...’
* * *
The teacher who had stayed behind at the mine, Shelley Carter, was young, in her early twenties. By now she’d been alone out here for many hours. She was exhausted and scared and when she saw Moz, Tom and Abby arriving, she burst into tears.
It took a while for Tom to be sure she wasn’t injured in any way and to get the information he needed to start assessing the situation.
‘It wasn’t so bad while it was still light.’ Wrapped in a blanket now and drinking a bottle of water from the supplies they had brought with them, Shelley was finally calm enough to talk, although her voice was very hoarse. ‘The aftershocks were really scary but I could keep busy, you know? And I could talk to Jack. Well, yell at him, anyway...’ She drank some more water. ‘I’ve almost lost my voice.’
The first thing Abby had done when they’d arrived at the scene had been to get as close as she could to the entrance and start calling.
‘Jack? Jack, can you hear me, darling? Mummy’s here. We’re all here to rescue you. Jack? Jack?’
There’d been no response to her calls and Abby had stopped for now. She was standing nearby, her arms wrapped around her body, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, staring at Shelley as she talked.
From where he was crouched beside Shelley, Tom glanced up at Abby and then back to the young teacher.
‘How long ago did you last hear Jack?’ he asked quietly.
Shelley shook her head. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve kind of lost track of time, you know? I guess it was after it got dark. I had to stop trying to shift rocks and stuff. And I couldn’t yell as loudly because I was already starting to lose my voice.’
Abby’s head flicked back and the light from her helmet raked over the blocked entrance to the mine. Another light was moving further away as Moz explored the site.
‘Maybe...maybe he fell asleep,’ Shelley whispered. But fresh tears rolled down her face. She was thinking exactly what had gone through Tom’s mind and what he knew would be filling Abby’s.
That Jack might be unconscious rather than asleep. Lying inside that mine somewhere, badly hurt. Dying, even...
Tom heard Abby suck in a breath.
‘What made him go back inside like that?’
‘Action...Man,’ Shelley gulped.
Abby groaned. ‘I told hi
m he couldn’t take him to school. He must have hidden him inside his school bag when I wasn’t looking.’
‘What are we talking about here?’ Tom was frowning. Why had Jack disobeyed his mother? Was he a naughty kid?
Because he didn’t have a father around?
‘Action Man.’ Abby shook her head. ‘It was his birthday present when he turned five. He’d been desperate for one.’
‘It’s a toy? A...a doll?’ Oh, man, this was getting worse.
‘Kind of.’ But Abby had a poignant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. ‘It’s an action figure. Special operations kind of hero doll and you can bend the joints to do almost anything. Action Man can climb table legs and abseil off the top of doors and parachute out of trees. He can do pretty much everything a little boy can dream of being able to do himself, I guess.’
Ohh...
Tom found himself smiling. If he’d had a doll like that when he’d been a kid, maybe he wouldn’t have collected so many bumps and bruises and broken bones trying stuff out for himself.
‘Tank?’ Moz was still a short distance away. ‘Come and have a look over here.’
‘Tank?’ Shelley looked at Abby as Tom pushed himself upright. ‘I thought his name was Tom?’
‘It is,’ Abby responded. ‘Tank’s a nickname. You know, like Thomas the Tank Engine?’
Tom heard Shelley giggle behind him. ‘That’s what we need,’ she said to Abby. ‘A real-life Action Man.’
Tom strode towards where Moz was. That odd little smile was still curling one side of his mouth. Because Abby had remembered his nickname?
No. It was more like he could imagine a little boy making his toy climb a table leg. Maybe making him talk at the same time. Being so attached to that toy that he’d rebelled against his mother’s orders and sneaked him into a hiding place in his school bag. Clearly, his worry that Jack was a sissy was unfounded. He was starting to get a picture of what Jack was like.
His son was becoming a real person....
‘Look.’ Moz directed the beam of his headlamp. ‘There’s a gap here where the beams have crossed. If we shift a few rocks, we might be able to get access.’
How dangerous would that be? How precarious was any space left inside this mine entrance? How many aftershocks were still to come and how strong would they be? Enough to bring another load of rocks and earth down to bury any gaps?
One of those gaps contained his son.
‘Let’s do it.’ Tom had already positioned himself beside one of the larger boulders. He put his shoulder against it and waited until Moz joined him. ‘Ready? On the count of three. One...two...three...’
Abby was beside them by the time the boulder had rolled clear.
‘Oh, my God...’ she gasped. ‘There’s a gap.’
‘Stay clear,’ Tom ordered. ‘We don’t know which way these rocks are going to roll. You can come and have a look when there’s something to see, okay?’
It took a remarkably short time for the two men to shift the boulders and the gap was easily big enough for them to get inside. Tom would have preferred to keep Abby well out until they’d assessed how safe it was but she was having none of it.
Shelley was more than happy to stay where she was, wrapped up in her blanket, but Abby was right behind them as they entered the pitch blackness of the old mine entrance.
Only the beams around the end of the tunnel seemed to have collapsed. Inside, the roof and walls still had their tunnel shape. A few rocks had fallen further in but there was enough space to climb over them. They still couldn’t see what lay ahead.
‘Jack?’ His voice bounced off the wall and echoed in the tunnel as Tom shouted. ‘Jack? Can you hear me?’
‘Jack...’ Abby yelled as soon as Tom stopped. ‘Jack, where are you?’
She hauled in a breath to call again but Tom gripped her arm. ‘Shh...’
Abby’s jaw dropped in shock but then he saw that she understood. If they kept yelling themselves, they wouldn’t be able to hear a response, especially if it was faint.
And there it was. Very faint. Sounding sleepy.
‘Mummy...?’
Abby’s head swivelled so that she could catch Tom’s gaze.
Had she really heard what she thought she’d heard?
Tom gave an imperceptible nod and Abby pressed a fist to her mouth. Trying to control herself so that she wouldn’t burst into tears of relief? She was still holding his gaze and Tom could feel his own throat closing over a rather large lump. What he couldn’t decide was whether that was due to the sound of that small voice or the relief he was feeling because Abby was so relieved.
She was still scared, though. And he was still holding her arm. He gave it a squeeze to encourage her. She would want to sound strong for Jack. She wouldn’t want him to know how scared she was.
‘Yes...’ The word came out as a whisper so Abby had to try again. ‘Mummy’s here, Jack. We’re coming to get you. Are you...? Does anything hurt?’
‘I’m cold, Mummy. I want to go home.’
‘I know, darling.’ Tom could see that Abby had her eyes shut now. He could see the way her lips trembled when she wasn’t talking but, amazingly, she was sounding incredibly strong. Confident. ‘It won’t be long now. We’re coming to get you, okay?’
A faint sobbing could be heard now. ‘Mum—mee...’
The sound of Jack’s voice was faint enough to be coming from a long way into the mine. Just how far had they taken the children exploring? Or had Jack missed where he’d dropped his toy and kept running in panic during or after the earthquake?
Abby was moving forward now, eager to find Jack. It was Moz who yelled a warning.
‘Abby, stop...’
She turned her head towards Moz so she wasn’t looking where she was going. Thank God her steps had faltered at the warning because Tom’s light now zeroed in on what lay ahead. Where the floor of the tunnel simply disappeared.
His heart in his throat, he launched himself towards Abby, catching her in his arms and hauling her backwards.
‘What the—?’ Abby struggled in his hold. ‘Tom, let me go.’
Tom had to struggle to take a normal breath, waiting for his heart to get back to a normal rhythm.
‘Abby.’ He kept his tone as calm as he could. ‘Look...’
Abby looked. She sagged in his arms, and knowing that she could now see the danger, Tom let her go. Let her sink to her knees and stare over the edge of where the floor of the tunnel simply stopped.
‘There must have been another tunnel running beneath this one.’ It was Moz who spoke first. ‘Something’s given way to create this sinkhole.’
‘How far does it go?’ Abby’s voice was shaking. ‘And how do we get down?’
Tom’s heart sank. How could he tell her that they had no idea how deep the hole was? Or how stable the sides of it were? That any movement could send a pile of earth and rocks cascading down to bury both Jack and anyone who was crazy enough to climb down?
He couldn’t, that’s all there was to it.
‘I’ll go down with a rope,’ he said quietly. ‘And see how far I can get.’
‘Uh...Tank...’ Moz’s tone was a clear warning. He knew how far out of any acceptable protocol Tom was stepping.
‘Can you anchor the rope?’ Tom didn’t give Moz the chance to voice any doubts. He used his headlamp to survey the surroundings. ‘We’ll use that beam, there. That’ll hold most of my weight. You’ll just need to feed me the length.’
Silently Moz took a long coil of rope from his shoulder and the two men moved to set up. Abby stayed by the edge of the hole.
‘We’re coming, Jack. Did...did you find Action Man?’
‘No-o-o...’
‘Doesn’t matter, darling. We’ll get you a new one, I promise
.’
‘But I want my Action Man.’
Tom had one end of the rope secured around his waist. Moz had another section of it around his own waist. Between them, the rope snaked around the solid beam that was part of the tunnel support.
‘You sure about this, mate?’
Tom simply turned away and walked to the edge of the hole. Of course he was sure. It was his son who was at the bottom of that hole.
The walls were sloping to start with and it wasn’t difficult to climb down. The rope was only needed as insurance so far but the danger was an unknown quantity and Tom moved very carefully. When his foot sent a shower of dirt and a small rock plunging down, he stopped and held his breath.
‘Jack?’ Abby shouted from above. ‘Are you okay? Did anything hit you?’
‘No...’ came the small voice. ‘It’s okay, Mummy. I’ve got a roof.’
A roof?
Tom inched his way down until he could go no further. He was at a point where the huge beams from the tunnel above had wedged themselves in a criss-cross pattern across the hole, leaving only a small gap in the middle.
They seemed solid enough. Tom knelt on one of them to peer through. His lamp lit up a kind of rough cavern beneath. At least twenty feet further down he could see a jumble of rocks and piles of earth. But nothing else.
‘Jack?’ His voice felt weird and the name of his son came out too faint to be useful. He cleared his throat. ‘Jack? Can you hear me, buddy?’
Silence. And then something pale appeared in the dark shape of a huddled child amongst the boulders as a small face turned up towards the light.
‘Who’re you?’ A frightened little voice.
‘I’m...’
I’m your dad, Jack.
‘I’m Tom...a friend of your mum’s. I’ve come to get you out of here.’
Except there was no way he could get down to Jack. No way in the world he could push his huge frame through the only available gap. They needed help from engineers, here. Some heavy-duty equipment, which might have to be brought over to the island from the mainland. Diggers. Cranes. Oh, God. How long would that take?
MIRACLE ON KAIMOTU ISLAND/ALWAYS THE HERO Page 24