by T. S. Simons
'Poor Cam and his migraines. He must be having a terrible time with you and Louis missing.'
'Likely,' I admitted, praying he still lived.
'So you jumped a man with a migraine?'
'No! That was well before, only a few months after we had arrived. It was the middle of the night, and I couldn't sleep. I saw him fighting to get the tablets out of the packet. He had stitches in his hand. I helped him, and we talked—all night. I liked him, and I could tell he liked me. So, I freaked out and backed off. We barely spoke again for months. I even thought he was with Di for a while. Then, one night, he slammed into me and dropped me in the mud.'
Illy's blue eyes sparkled with mischief. 'You two have a strange concept of romance!'
'He opened up to me, told me things that he had told no one in the year we had been there. I still don't know why I did it. I just instinctively knew that this man had ethics. He wouldn't tell anyone, even if we were friends with benefits. Besides, by that point, I had far more dirt on him. I made him change into his walking shoes, and I took him to my secret place.'
'Ahh, the hot-springs. Yes, I know about that part.'
'So here he is, naked and floating in the pool. Blissfully unaware of me. I've not been near a man in a year, there is a rather well-built one in close proximity, and he is ignoring me completely.'
'… and you were… ahem, lacking companionship?'
'Something like that. I was getting rather pissed off, realising that he wouldn't make the first move. So on the spur of the moment, I kissed him. His eyes popped open in complete shock, and he dropped like a stone.'
'But when he came up, things took an interesting turn?'
I laughed at the memory. 'When he finished coughing up a lung-full of hot water. He was cranky with me. Fortunately, I turned that frustration into something else.'
'Luca's face when I kissed him the first time was a picture! Sorcha spent all her time with Di, and it was a critical time in her treatment, a week or so after we arrived. We were worried. She was losing weight, and the baby wasn't growing. I could tell that Magali was concerned, but she wouldn't speak to me about it. I was followed everywhere, completely fed up with the constant surveillance. Luca and I both knew it, of course, but couldn't openly talk about it. I could sense his frustration. On this particular day, he was sitting in a chair in the office. You know the one on Clava that adjoins the main treatment room? Di was having a procedure, and we were waiting. There was a tech there, pretending to work but really just keeping an eye on us. On consideration, I think it was actually Dale. I paid little attention at the time. I just wanted him to go away so I could snoop around the files. Luca is sitting on this chair, bored as batshit, reading a book, making those grunting noises he makes when he is frustrated. I marched up, plucked the book from his hands, and dropped it on the floor. Then I sat on his lap facing him, my legs wrapped around him and kissed him.'
'What did he do?'
'Froze, at first. He was petrified of me. He started to protest. I ignored him, pulled his t-shirt out of his jeans, ran my hands up his deliciously muscular sides, and kissed his neck. He was rigid, holding his breath. Just as I thought I had made a huge mistake, I felt the shudder reverberate through him. His breath started heating up my neck… let's just say that was the moment the tone changed. I was sitting on him, so I was in a position to know. The next thing I know, my top is on the floor, the windows are steaming up, and Dale has left the building.'
'Poor Luca! Turning him on like that and then ditching him.'
'Don't worry. I made it up to him later. While it was a bit spur of the moment, I did have fears that my experiment may not work, and he might reject me.'
'But it worked? And that was it?'
'That was it. We weren't apart after that.'
'What would you have done if he had rejected you?' I asked curiously. Before Illy, I had never seen Luca pay attention to any woman, and plenty had openly desired him. He could have had a woman in every port when we travelled. Several even. Muscular, ruggedly handsome, and always respectful to women. He was quite a catch.
'It simply wasn't an option. I chose him. As soon as I kissed him, I knew. It was like meeting my best friend, the one I had been missing all my life, but not even realising he was there. He told me once, months later, when it was all too late for him, of course, that after his father abandoned him, he feared being in a relationship. In case he turned out to be a loser. But he knew when he met me that I wouldn't allow him to be a twat. I would hunt him down and kill him first.'
I laughed aloud at that. 'Oh, you so would. I couldn't imagine anyone better for you. Really.'
'The funny thing is, I could see him with you. You were so close. I asked him about you. Before you and I became friends. He said that he would have loved to make a life with you, but after you left August the second time, he could see that you only ever wanted Cam. Even when that was no longer a possibility, he knew. He never wanted to be your second choice, so he never tried.'
'He said that?'
'He described it to me once as "watching someone have their still-beating heart wrenched from their chest and watching the sucking, gaping void drain the life from them. Knowing they were half a person, gasping for air, unsure if they were living or dying and not caring either way".'
'That is a fairly apt description. Meeting Cam was like finding the missing piece to my life. Losing him was having my heart ripped out.'
'I know. It was how I felt when I lost my parents. He felt it himself when his mother passed. He realised that you taking up with anyone after that kind of love would be settling for second best.'
'I loved Luca like a friend. He was my wingman. No matter where we went or what we did, he was my best friend. He looked out for me, teased me incessantly, but I always knew he supported me, even if he disagreed with me. God, I miss him.'
'Me too.'
Silence filled the room as we reminisced about Luca. About Cam. About all of those we had lost. And for what?
'We need to talk, Ils. About what happened. To us.'
'And we will.' Her tone was firm. 'We will talk, analyse, cry, and deal. Just not now. We have a mission to complete. We will both need to take a very long time to accept what we went through. But not now. Now we focus on getting Louis and being grateful that we are free.'
I paused. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I needed to apologise, make her understand how sorry I was.
'But…'
'But nothing. Nothing that happened was your fault, so you can stop that right now. And Frey?'
'What?'
'If I had to be held prisoner with anyone, I am glad it was you.'
I grimaced, needing to ask one more question. 'What do you think they'll do with Dale?'
Illy considered. 'Likely nothing.'
'Seriously?' Even through the pain relief, my face still throbbed from the abuse he had inflicted on me. I had realigned my nose and examined my cheek and jaw as soon as we knew they weren't in pursuit, as well as gingerly checking the enormous lump on my forehead, but without an x-ray, there was nothing else I could do. The bruising across half of my face was already a mottled palette of blues and purples.
'Sadly, yes. Clava is a bit of a boy's club. Auckland, too. Besides, there are no jails, no laws. And what he did, well, tried to do…'
'He tried to rape me is what he did!' I flared at the injustice. 'Likely you too.'
'And what do you like to see them do?' Illy asked softly.
'I can tell you exactly what I would do! Puncture his eye socket with one of those needles he loved shoving in us. Watch it deflate like a wrinkled balloon hissing air, knowing he would never leer at a woman like that ever again. Cut off his balls and ram them down his throat and watch him choke.'
Illy grinned at my enthusiasm. 'I would hold him down for you.'
'They are here,' I growled, unable to keep the anger from my voice. I gestured towards the Selkie, nestled agai
nst the far berth. It had been my home for years. Now, the halyard gusted in the wild breeze. I gently moored the Eurydice a safe distance away, and we climbed the stairs to stand on the deck. Long strands of hair escaped my ponytail and whipped me in the face. Illy nodded grimly but said nothing as her long dark hair obscured her vision. She had Luca's gun tucked in the back of her pants.
The wind roared, forcing us to shout at each other. Not that there was any risk of being overheard. The chilled air pierced my skin, and I reached for a jacket. Despite the years living on the Selkie, with Luca, Nate, Angus and Jake, outside the domes, I wasn't used to the feel of wind now, penetrating my skin with its cold, sharp fingers. Goosebumps popped up on my arms from the sudden temperature change. Closing my eyes and conjuring his gentle face, I sent a silent wish out to Cam, praying he was alive and healing. Not wanting to be tracked, we had made no further radio transmissions after those to Tadhg from Inverness harbour. Equally, we were fearful that we would be followed, and retribution sought for the damage we had inflicted. Worse, being re-captured and returned to that sterile white hell we had endured for nearly two months. I had been out of that room only twice, for my surgeries. If we returned there, we would never see daylight again.
Images of each of my children flickered before my eyes; Katrin, Xanthe and Thorsten. Finally, Louis' dark brown hair and soft kind eyes came into view, and I sent out the promise. The same one I had made a hundred times since leaving Lewis. I'm coming, I promised him. Hang on, just a little longer. I will find you. I will bring you home.
Illy tapped my shoulder, pulling me from my trance. She gestured with her chin, and I followed close behind as we crept along the dock. She seemed fine, but my legs wobbled like jelly being on land again. We crept aboard, and I pointed the best path to take. Not down the main stairwell, but through the access hatch. Within minutes we realised the vessel had been emptied, both of people and supplies. I surveyed the smaller, cosy living space, needing to lean against the solid frame of the door as memories tormented me. The room where Luca and I had spent many hours together, curled up on that blue curved sofa. Reading. Talking. I closed my eyes and pictured him, laughing. Teasing me. Memories of all the beautiful times we had spent together, playing cards, talking, flitted into my mind. This was how I always wanted to remember him. Full of life. Not how he looked when I saw him last. Closing my eyes and wishing my friend a final farewell, I turned and went to find Illy.
On a visit to Edinburgh, Angus had taken me to his home, wanting to collect some books, but I hadn't gone inside. Back when we had first travelled together, when I still called him a friend. Before we had returned to August to find Cam, before… I shook the memories from my mind and renewed my focus. We knew where we were headed. It wasn't far from the house where Cam and I had reunited, but I shook that from my mind too. I turned to Illy as we climbed back onto the dock and shouted over the gusting wind.
'Getting Louis is my primary goal, but should we restock and refuel now?'
The escape from Inverness fresh in our minds. Illy nodded slowly. She glanced at the mid-afternoon sky, then back at me. Best to stock up now and find Angus' house fresh in the morning. While one more night wasn't changing anything, part of me felt sick for not barging in now and rescuing him.
I refuelled the Eurydice while she emptied our backpacks and did a quick stocktake. Despite the rapidly dwindling daylight, I had been here several times, both with Angus and the last time, with Cam. I had a reasonable knowledge of the city's layout and could easily find the government warehouse, which had been piled high with supplies.
After Cam and I found the stash of medication in Edinburgh, Lewis residents had agreed that a visit to Edinburgh, or another coastal city once every six months, was a good idea to replenish items that we urgently needed. Hamish had led the initial raids for medical equipment, diagnostic tools and medications. One of the vets or engineers also went along to source other equipment or parts we needed. But as the years had passed, we had adapted, never losing sight of our sustainability focus. We no longer needed new medications. Cam and the team had learned to grow opium poppies from which they derived morphine for pain relief and valerian, which had proven a mostly satisfactory alternative to salbutamol, needed to control Sorcha's asthma. Jacinda's extensive knowledge of herbs and plants supplemented the pharmaceuticals to the point where people consulted her readily. She was often called before people saw a doctor, much to Sorcha's annoyance. Jacinda had started teaching her children about natural healing, and Aroha, now twelve, was quite a capable apprentice, often treating simple cases on her own. A quiet girl, I had long sensed an underlying spark of rebelliousness masked by her studious appearance. Aroha had taken over the tasks of herb collection and distilling for her mother and could regularly be seen sitting on their doorstep of an evening, with a mortar and pestle, engrossed in one of the many volumes on naturopathic medicine we had sourced over the years. Illy and I had agreed that her knowledge would soon surpass Jacinda's or that she would tire of healing. Jacinda took her vow of do no harm to the extreme at times.
Isla and I had asked for several raids on veterinary suppliers in the early years, but we too found ourselves well stocked with equipment, medicines, and general supplies. We had adapted and were quite competent in our treatment, able to treat most of our patients with what we had.
Initially, the travelling teams, usually led by Luca when he wasn't needed for distilling, had found some of the requests frivolous. Makeup, shampoo and other toiletries. In a surprisingly diplomatically manner for him, Luca had introduced them to Jacinda's herbal soaps and shampoos, all biodegradable, and safe to use in the recycled water of the domes. Soon those requests had dried up too. The travelling parties went a year between visits, sometimes longer. Luca's coffee machines had been sourced on one visit, and better distilling and bottling equipment on another. Once, Luca had led a small team to France and had returned with the hold filled with cases of fine wine, as well as gin stills and wine bottling and preserving equipment. Illy and I had often laughed that Luca got itchy feet between visits to the mainland, desperate for some excitement.
'Have you noticed how the last few visits have been around coffee and alcohol?' I noted as Luca had returned from one mission bursting with excitement.
Illy smiled. 'He is nothing if not predictable. Always thinking of his stomach.'
As we loaded the food and bottled water into the hold, I asked, 'Clothes and gifts for the kids and then sleep?'
'Sounds like a plan.'
'Just let me take some more painkillers. It is probably just the movement, but my stomach is killing me. My face too. Do you want some more of Jacinda's anti-nausea stuff?'
Returning to the Eurydice by torchlight, we loaded one bedroom with books, toys, and clothing for the kids and some items for us.
'Every time I leave Lewis I swear it will be the last time,' I muttered as I dropped the bags I carried, laden with books.
'And each time you genuinely mean it,' Illy smirked. 'But then shit happens, and you keep leaving. How about I finish tidying up here, and you cook dinner? I hear canned ravioli is quite the in-thing this year. All the Michelin rated restaurants are serving it.'
I ascended the stairs into the galley kitchen, heating a can of ravioli to share. My parents would be horrified, eating food from a can. But it wasn't that bad. It kept us alive, and right now, I couldn't concentrate on cooking gourmet meals. Food was something to fill my stomach and give me one less thing to worry about. Neither Illy nor I were skilled cooks at the best of times, leaving it to our far more capable partners. Just one more thing Illy would need to adapt to, I thought, stirring the contents of the saucepan as it sizzled and stuck to the bottom. The guys and I had regularly eaten far worse at sea. There were only so many ways you could dress up baked beans as a meal, but we made a game of it, giving each meal a score out of ten—the cook of the worst meal needed to wash the dishes for the week. Notably, Luca seldom washed dishes.
'I miss cheese,' Illy lamented into her bowl of ravioli. 'There aren't many things I miss, but cheese is one.'
Cheese-making was something that had taken the residents of Lewis quite some time to perfect, but now that we had, it was delicious and plentiful. I wasn't a fan of brie and camembert but loved the full-flavoured cheddars and blue cheeses they produced.
'My parents adored cheese,' I admitted, making Illy look up. 'There was a fromagerie near our home in Melbourne, and each week they delivered a selection of different cheeses with tasting notes. My parents would have friends over for wine and cheese regularly, and Kat and I were always allowed to try them.'
'Listen to you, fromagerie,' she mocked. 'You know the rest of us just called it a cheese shop, right?'
I ignored the taunt.
'Did you ever try Roquefort?'
'Oh yes, many times. Beaufort d'ete, Stilton, Pule, and even some odd cheeses, like elk and deer.'
'Elk cheese?'
'Truly. It was a thing.'
'Well, I'm in no rush to try moose cheese, but what I wouldn't give to have a little grated pecorino on my pasta. I'd even tolerate parmesan.'
'Snob,' I teased.
'Ha! Says she who ate elk cheese! You know Jarlsberg, and goat cheese from the supermarket were exotic for the rest of us, don't you?'
'It was a different time,' I shrugged.
'I used to think it was the lesser one,' Illy said, trailing off.
'So did I. But now…' I replayed the events of the last decade. I had been held captive, twice. Been subjected to surgery against my will. My stomach twinged, and I placed a hand over the stitches beneath the table, careful not to let Illy see. My face had been broken in Dale's assault, and I bore the painful bruises. My husband and best friend shot, my son kidnapped. Then there was my sister. Laetitia. Maybe this wasn't a better time. Perhaps, when all is said and done, humans will always be self-centred animals who care more for themselves than their fellow man. Had we learned anything?