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Escape

Page 9

by M. K. Elliott


  Lucy guessed people had slept badly and were making the most of not having to get up. No dives would be leaving this morning; after the storm, visibility in the water would be down to zero.

  The thought of diving swept her thoughts back to Rudy and her eyes burned with tears. How many times did she have to tell herself she was better off without him before she started to believe it?

  One of the Thai boys stood behind reception, his head bent over the desk, reading something. He heard her approaching and looked up.

  “I need to get a taxi,” she said. “Could you order one for me?”

  He looked at her suitcase in surprise. “You leaving today?”

  “Yes, I have to. I have a family emergency back home.” It wasn’t really a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No one is leaving the island today. The storm is not finished and no ferries will leave. You must stay in your room.”

  The wind was still up, though it was nowhere near as bad as before, and the clouds still hung low and heavy over the ocean. But the storm certainly looked as if the worst had passed. She didn’t believe no one would be leaving. What if people had flights to catch? They couldn’t hold people hostage on the island. There must be someone who would take her.

  She sighed. “Look, just get me a taxi to the port and I will sort it out from there.”

  “But I tell you,” he insisted. “No boats leave today. Storm is not finished. You must stay in your room.”

  Lucy started to get angry. She had no intention of staying in this resort to be humiliated further, and she wasn’t having some child telling her to go to her room as though she was a naughty toddler. She would walk to the damned port if she had to.

  She fished her purse out of her bag and opened it, pulling out a wedge of notes. “I am a paying customer,” she said, her voice hard. “Just get me to the port.”

  The boy saw the money and his eyes lit up. “Okay,” he said with a shrug. “I drive you.”

  “You’ll want this,” she said, handing him her room key. The boy hung the key on the board at the back of the reception. She had no bills to settle as she had pre-paid her room and paid for all her food and drinks in cash.

  Lucy climbed into the back of the SUV and looked out the back window as they drove away from the resort. A strange sadness and longing filled her and she wished things could have been different.

  During the whole drive to the port she watched out for Rudy, hoping to see him on his bike, hoping he would find her gone and come racing after her. She was being ridiculous. He was probably tucked up in bed with the girl from the dive.

  The thought stabbed pain through her stomach and she felt herself twist up inside, groaning inwardly.

  Part of her wished she had let him take it further with her on the beach. At least then she would have had the memory of how he tasted or how his skin had felt beneath her fingertips. Instead, all she had was the brief kiss he had stolen and the memory of his bare chest pressed up against hers, before she had pushed him away.

  He was just a fling, she told herself. He was nothing. Yet she couldn’t push away the sense of loss and even though she was leaving, she desperately wished she could see him again.

  The port was as deserted as the resort and the first strands of unease ran through her. What if the Thai boy was right? What if she wasn’t going to be able to get off the island? It didn’t even bear thinking about. She couldn’t go back to Turtle View; she would be mortified to see Rudy again, even though in her heart it was all she wanted.

  “This is fine,” she said, handing him the money over the back of his seat.

  He raised his eyebrows at her, but Lucy ignored him. She could do this. She had treated multiple stab wounds, removed foreign objects from chests, and even kept someone alive for thirty-five minutes by administering CPR after a man had a heart attack on the tube. She only wanted to catch a damn ferry.

  Lucy struggled to get her suitcase out of the boot, scowling at the Thai boy as he sat in the driver’s seat, watching her struggle in the wing mirror.

  As soon as she slammed the boot shut, he drove off, leaving her standing on the side of the road.

  The wind whipped her hair around her face and she pushed the strands away, holding her hair back from her face, trying to figure out where to go.

  Had the wind got worse during the short drive?

  The small hut selling ferry tickets was open, so she headed over, dragging her oversized suitcase along behind her.

  With relief, she saw someone manning the booth. The Thai boy must have been wrong. Boats must be leaving.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling what she hoped was a winning smile. “I need to get to the mainland. Could you tell me when the next boat is leaving?”

  The young girl behind the counter looked up at her with the same surprise as the boy at the resort. Immediately, Lucy knew how this conversation was going to go.

  “There is big storm,” the girl said in broken English. “No boat today, maybe in three day.”

  “Three days?”

  The girl smiled and nodded. “Three day,” she repeated.

  Lucy groaned. Was she seriously stuck here for the next three days?

  Waves crashed against the concrete wall of the jetty, the few boats remaining in port swelled and lifted under their force. She hadn’t been imaging things; the wind was definitely getting stronger.

  Maybe the boy had been right. Maybe the storm wasn’t over yet.

  A chill ran through her and she shivered. Suddenly she became aware of her position—standing in the middle of a deserted port, suitcase in hand, with a storm brewing. There must have been a lull in the storm, but the force seemed to be building again.

  Other than the girl in the booth, she was alone.

  The girl leaned forward, her head sticking out of the booth and looked either side. She gave a grim smile and reached up, slamming a reinforced shutter down over the booth window. Lucy watched as the girl exited from a door in the back and hurried away.

  Now she really was alone.

  With a sinking heart, she turned and started to make her way back up the main street, dragging her case along behind her. All of the shops and cafes were shut, all with the same protective shutters down over their windows. Storm shutters, she thought. They must have been warned about the impending storm, and unlike her, they had listened.

  What the hell was she going to do? No hotels or resorts stood on this side of the island, they had all been built around the sandy beaches, not the port, and there were no cars on the road.

  The wind picked up pace, pushing her from behind, as though telling her itself that she needed to get moving.

  I need get back to the resort, she thought, wanting to cry. She had no other choice than to start walking. All she could hope for was that a taxi or another vehicle would drive past and take pity on her, and give her a lift the rest of the way.

  At the top of Main Street, the road gave way to the dusty dirt track that served as a road for most of the island. The wind picked up the dust, flinging it into her eyes and against her skin. She felt as if she was being sand-blasted and images of the previous night’s dream came back to her in flashes. Her sandals started to rub and she knew blisters were forming. Her bag jumped and tipped behind her, getting stuck in every bump and crack in the road. She wished she had packed a bit lighter or she’d at least brought a backpack with her like everyone else.

  A crack of thunder rolled and boomed across the sky above her, instantly followed by a blinding flash of lightening.

  The storm hit.

  The heavens opened up and fat droplets of rain fell like a sheet, soaking her instantly. The wind whipped her hair back from her face, snatching the breath from her lungs. Lucy fought to stand up against the force of the wind, bent almost double at the waist. Ahead, the wind picked up a bundle of palm fronds, and they skipped and skidded toward her. She tried to get out of the way, but the fronds lashed
against her shins, nearly knocking her over, and she cried out in pain.

  She had no choice but to try to find shelter somewhere.

  Crying now, and horribly scared, she dragged her suitcase along behind her, struggling up the road. She limped along, her sandals cutting into her feet, and she bent down and pulled off the offending shoes. She hobbled along in bare feet instead, her sandals clutched in her free hand.

  What an idiot I’ve been, losing my head over some guy. And now look at me, fighting with my case, in bare feet, lost in a storm.

  She should never have left London. She would have given anything to be sitting in her little flat in London right now, even if it meant she had never met Rudy.

  The thought of never having met him only made her cry harder, and her heart hurt to think of him.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Rudy knew he was being reckless, leaving his little house in a storm like this, but he needed to see Lucy. He had barely slept wondering why she hadn’t shown up.

  The storm had lulled for the moment, though the relative peace wouldn’t last. Still, he decided he would rather be caught up in a room with Lucy than here on his own, so he would take the chance. Of course, she might tell him to get lost, but he clung to the hope that maybe she’d just fallen asleep after the lunch time wine and missed their date.

  The resort was deserted. Most of the staff (with the exception of a couple to provide information for the guests) knew not to show up for work when a storm like this was on the way.

  Rudy ran up the steps to Lucy’s room, taking them two at a time, and banged on the door. Around him, the wind started to pick up again.

  “Lucy!” he shouted, hoping she could hear him over the wind.

  He frowned. Why wasn’t she answering? She wasn’t the type of woman to sulk in her room and not answer the door. He paused, trying to get a sense of the room, but there was no feel of any presence behind the door.

  Trying the handle, the door swung open to reveal an empty room. Rudy frowned and stepped inside. There was no sign of her; none of her toiletries in the bathroom, no clothes, no suitcase on the floor.

  With a sinking stomach, Rudy realized the truth. Lucy had left.

  Something rustled at his feet and he looked down to see the leaflet that had been posted beneath every door, warning the guests to stay inside.

  In her haste to leave, Lucy hadn’t even noticed it.

  Rudy pulled the door shut again and headed back down to reception.

  Storm shutters had been pulled down to protect the reception and bar area but a door at the side allowed access, so he used his key to let himself in.

  He checked the log book. Room twenty-three had checked out early, and beside the check out was the log of a taxi run to the port.

  Rudy stared at it.

  Surely someone hadn’t taken her to the port? Who the hell would be that stupid?

  Furious, he stepped out and locked the door behind him. He ran to his bike and jumped on, pulling his helmet on over his head. The high wind made it dangerous for him to ride, but he needed to get to the port. No one else would be around, not when a category two storm had been predicted. The island went into lock down and he imagined Lucy waiting at the port, not knowing what to do or where to go.

  Why had she decided to leave? What had happened? He couldn’t help but worry her sudden departure had something to do with him.

  Rudy pushed the bike as fast as he dared. Debris blew across the road, threatening to take his wheels out from under him, and the high wind buffeted him, as if trying to push him off the road. Last night’s bad weather had just been a warm up for the real thing, and the real thing was nearly upon them.

  Then he saw her, huddled up on the side of the road, sitting on top of her suitcase. She sat under one of the large palm trees, but the tree did little to protect her. Her arms were wrapped over her head, trying to protect her face from the debris the storm whipped up around her. She hadn’t heard the bike approaching because of the noise of the wind and he pulled up beside her before she dared to look up.

  Her eyes widened in surprise and she blinked at him, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  Where he had only ever seen her strong and in control, she now looked scared and vulnerable, and it broke his heart. Every fiber of his body wanted to protect her.

  He climbed off the bike and rushed to her side.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted over the storm, pulling her to her feet. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  She stared up into his face. Tears streaked lines in her dirty skin. Her hair was wet and matted to her face.

  “I couldn’t get back,” she half-sobbed.

  He held her at arm’s length and looked at her with confusion in his eyes. “Where were you going?”

  She had to shout to be heard. “Home. My dad got sick.”

  “Without saying goodbye?”

  Her hair whipped around her face, threatening to strangle her. “I waited for you at the bar like we said, but you never showed up.”

  “I know. I took a group out on a dive, but then the storm started coming in and we couldn’t dock on this side of the island. We had to dock over an hour away. I had no way of letting you know. I figured you would realize something was up and just go back to your room and wait. I had no idea you would pack your bags.”

  “It wasn’t because of you,” she sniffed, even though it partly was.

  The storm screeched around them. The wind rushing through the fronds of the palm trees sounded like a waterfall crashing around their ears. Fallen palms were picked up and whisked past, almost hitting them.

  “Come on,” he shouted over the storm. “My place is closer.”

  This time there was no spare helmet, but Rudy forced his into her hands.

  She tried to push the helmet away again. “No, you wear it. It’ll only be too big for me.

  “For God’s sake,” he growled at her. “Just do what you are told for once in your life.”

  Admonished, she took the helmet and slipped it over her head. She was right; the helmet was too big, but the fact he cared was enough.

  Chapter Ten

  Together, they rode through the treacherous conditions. Rain battered against them and the fierce wind threatened to blow them across the road.

  On several occasions, the wheels of the bike skidded beneath them. Only Rudy’s skilled driving prevented them from sliding off the road. Scared, Lucy had no qualms about clinging onto him as tightly as possible, her face buried into his back, her body pressed firmly against his. Rudy didn’t have a helmet on and she was terrified of what would happen if they came off and he hit his head.

  They climbed through the island, toward the center. Debris littered the road, making it hard to distinguish the narrow dirt track from the undergrowth. On a number of occasions, they slowed to almost a stop and Rudy coaxed the bike around whatever blocked their way.

  They had only been going for about fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours. When the trees finally parted to reveal a small clearing with a small wooden house nestled within it, Lucy was so relieved, she wanted to cry all over again.

  Rudy pulled up outside of the house and helped Lucy climb off the bike. They ran under the porch for shelter and Rudy opened the front door for her. Lucy noticed he didn’t have to unlock the door first.

  “Go in!” he shouted, still forced to fight the sound of the howling wind. “I’ll only be a minute!”

  Lucy stepped through the front door and into the house, looking around her with curiosity.

  The whole place was open floor plan. A big double bed sat on a raised platform at the back of the house, and the kitchen took up the far corner, with a breakfast bar separating the units from the living room. As far as she could tell, only the bathroom was separated by walls. The overall impression was that of a large New York loft conversion.

  Lucy saw the reason for the design. Glass made up the whole of the front wall, fro
m floor to ceiling, allowing uninterrupted views over the island. The back of the house was nestled in the trees, but the front had views over the rest of the island and out to the ocean.

  In the midst of the storm, the view was breathtaking.

  Rudy banged open the front door, dragging her from her thoughts and making her jump. The storm blasted in with him, carrying a swirl of leaves and debris, and he pushed his body weight against the door, forcing it shut.

  “I had to get the bike covered,” he said, shaking water out of his hair. “If I left it out, it would be wrecked by tomorrow.”

  “Is that how long the storm is supposed to last?” she asked. “Until tomorrow?”

  He shrugged. “They said three days, and that was yesterday, but you never really know. These hurricanes have a mind of their own, that’s why we give them names.”

  Soaking wet and still in shock, she shivered. Rudy noticed.

  “Hey, the bathroom is in the back and there should still be some hot water. Go and have a shower and I’ll find you something to wear.”

  They had abandoned her suitcase on the side of the road. They didn’t stand a chance of getting the huge bag onto the bike. Rudy promised her they would go back and get it as soon as the storm subsided, but Lucy didn’t like to think what sort of shape her stuff would be in by then.

  Rudy grinned. “Promise to ignore the wet towels on the floor and the toothpaste in the sink. I wasn’t expecting guests.”

  She hugged these facts to herself. If he wasn’t expecting guests, he obviously hadn’t been prised for a pick-up. Maybe that girl hadn’t come back here after all.

  The bathroom wasn’t as bad as he had made out and she stripped off her wet clothes and stepped under the shower. The hot water washed away the remains of her tears and dissipated her earlier fear of the storm. Now her wishes to be back in London seemed trite and dishonest; she only wanted to be here.

  But she was still confused. Nothing changed the fact that Rudy stood her up last night, and she had seen him drinking with another girl. Just because he had rescued her, didn’t change anything. He said he’d been running late, but she had seen him with someone else. What possible excuse could he have?

 

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