by Tom Bale
‘You did most of it.’ Embarrassed, Sam glances at the back of his hand. Jody feels her stomach cramp in horror.
‘Did it bite you?’
‘It’s all right, I think.’ He points to a pale pink scratch below his knuckles. It doesn’t seem to have broken the skin but she examines it to be sure.
‘Can you feel anything?’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Really?’ They’re standing close, probably in a cloud of sweat and grime, and yet he’s gazing into her eyes as though they’re on a balcony in Paris or somewhere.
‘I love you,’ he says, his voice boyishly sincere.
‘I love you, too.’
‘I don’t want to lose you.’
‘You wo–’
He cuts her off with a kiss. His arms go round her waist and pull her close. The kiss gets deeper, more urgent, and Jody realises she wants him with the same reckless fervour that Sam wants her, no matter how filthy they are. But they can’t, and it’s for the usual reason.
She breaks away. ‘Where are the kids?’
‘I left them at the boat.’ Sam looks disappointed, but says, ‘Guess we’d better get back.’
Nodding, Jody takes a step and nearly goes flying. She’d forgotten the bungee cord around her ankle. At least it provokes a laugh from Sam.
‘Well, if I’d known you couldn’t get away…’
‘Funny.’
She kneels to remove the cord, and a couple of insects come zig-zagging across her path. That’s when she gets it: the connection she should have made.
‘You know we talked about reality shows?’ She indicates the pit. ‘Having the water hidden among snakes, it’s like one of the trials on I’m A Celebrity.’
‘Yeah, but it can’t be. We didn’t sign up for–’
‘I hardly think they care about that. The point is that you don’t set up something like this if you can’t observe how it plays out.’
Sam looks lost, then stunned. ‘They’re watching us?’
‘They must be. Otherwise why go to all this trouble?’
He says nothing. Jody unhooks the other end of the bungee cord and leans back, craning her neck to look into the higher reaches of the tree. Any camera has got to be positioned with a clear line of sight over the pit.
It takes her a while to spot it – or rather, to make sense of what she’s seeing – but there appears to be a small black circle, or ball, nestled in the V shape between the trunk and one of the larger branches. About the size of a golf ball, with leaves carefully positioned all around it.
She motions at Sam to come and look, but he lets out a low growl, like a warning.
‘Come here, Jode.’
‘But I’ve found–’
‘Ssh! Listen.’ He edges towards her, and murmurs, ‘We shouldn’t let on that we know.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s better to act normal, while we give ourselves time to think it through.’
That seems like a wise move, so they say nothing more until they’re heading back along the path. Keeping his voice low, Sam points out that there are probably more cameras at the beach, and perhaps microphones as well. ‘If you’re spying on people, you don’t just want to see them. You want to hear what they say.’
I’m A Celebrity isn’t a show they watch regularly – she and Sam tried one series out of curiosity and decided it was stupid, cruel and ultimately quite boring. But even as a non-viewer, the overexcited media coverage means it’s impossible to ignore when the series rolls around each year – the endless discussion about who’s in, who’s out, who’s a wanker, who’s surprisingly calm and inspiring…
Her dad claims that the producers write scripts for all these reality shows and then assemble the footage in a way that presents the story they’ve already decided to tell – she’s a diva, he’s a creep – and never mind if it’s only a few seconds taken out of context from thousands of hours of footage. The punters lap it up as the gospel truth.
So what’s our story? Jody wonders. In the past twenty-four hours she’s been brave, cowardly, clever, stupid, angry, calm, dithering, decisive, a good parent, a terrible parent: often many of these things at the same time. And Sam, too.
Is the footage being used to tell a story about them, and if so, who’s telling it?
And why? Always that heart-rending, energy-sapping, unanswerable question.
What is the purpose of this hideous experiment?
Now he’s on a bit of a roll, Sam outlines his idea about finding water they can boil up. To make a fire they’ll have to gather some branches and leave them to dry on the beach. And collecting firewood gives them an opportunity to search for more cameras.
Jody grins. ‘Sneaky.’
‘That’s what we’ve gotta be like from now on. Us against them. It’s war.’
He can’t quite bring himself to ask why Jody took such a big risk, going off on her own, but when he congratulates her again she makes an embarrassed comment about how much he did the yesterday: swimming out to check the headland, venturing into the storm to refill the bottle.
‘Getting struck by lightning,’ he adds drily.
‘Yeah, that was too close for comfort. You could have had a heart attack.’
‘Nah, not me.’ He pats her bum. ‘I’m much too young and fit.’
He wants to kiss her again but through the trees comes Grace’s voice, high and scared. ‘Dad! Is that you?’
They run the last few metres, and mum and daughter have an emotional reunion.
Dylan hangs back, looking uncertain, even shifty. It’s the sort of expression he wears when he’s broken one of his toys and hidden it so they won’t notice.
‘I heard a noise,’ Grace says finally. ‘It was like a boat.’
Sam and Jody stare at her. ‘Are you sure?’ Jody asks.
‘I think that’s what it was. You know the small ones that have the little engine fixed to the back? That sort of noise.’
‘But you didn’t see it?’
Grace shakes her head. ‘It was over that way.’ She points to the west, in the direction of the impassable headland.
Sam heaves out a sigh, aimed at Jody. ‘Bloody typical. Just when we weren’t here.’
Grace winces. ‘Should I have gone to look?’
‘No, darling,’ Jody says. ‘That’s not what Daddy means.’ To Sam, she whispers, ‘Perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence, given what we’ve found?’
Sam narrows his eyes as it dawns on him. If they’re under surveillance, the watchers could have seen them go into the woods and timed the boat to come by in their absence.
‘Better check it out,’ he says.
Jody agrees, but first they all need some water. ‘And coconut for breakfast.’ She gazes thoughtfully at the sea. ‘No, a swim to freshen up first. Plus sun cream on our faces.’
Sam expects Dylan to protest about the sun cream, but there isn’t a murmur from him. In fact, he hasn’t said a word since they got back.
‘You okay, Dyl?’
No reaction. Jody kneels at his side, putting her arm around him. ‘Probably tired, eh?’
Still nothing. Grace looks awkward, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. ‘Don’t start again,’ she mutters to her brother.
Jody frowns. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Ask him.’
‘We had a fight.’ Dylan glares at his sister. ‘Because of the lady.’
Now Sam is lost. ‘What lady?’
Dylan gives a pantomime shrug: How should I know?
‘No, come on, Dylan,’ Jody says gently. ‘Please tell us.’
His bottom lip wobbling, Dylan manages to say, ‘The angel lady!’ Then he bursts into tears.
39
While Jody comforts her son, Sam decides to open the second bottle of water from the pit. After testing it, he passes the bottle to Grace and asks her what Dylan is talking about.
‘He said he saw someone. I told him he was making it up.’
‘But you
were meant to stay together!’
It’s a fierce response, but Grace only sniffs, defiantly, and says, ‘After he woke up, he wanted to get out from under the boat. He didn’t go anywhere.’
Sam nods. ‘All right, sorry. So he might have seen someone?’
‘No. Because I had a look, and there wasn’t anyone.’
‘Sure?’ Jody asks.
‘Yes. I’d tell you if someone was there.’
Once Dylan has stopped crying, Jody encourages him to show them where he saw the woman. He indicates the ridge between their bay and the next.
‘And what was she doing?’
He looks blank. ‘She was on the rocks.’
‘Did you see her walk along, or climb up?’ Sam asks.
Dylan shakes his head. ‘Just standing.’
‘What do you mean by “angel lady”?’ Jody asks.
Dylan bows his head, presses his palms together and holds them in front of his chest, as if praying. Jody and Sam exchange another mystified glance.
‘Why didn’t Grace see her?’ Sam asks.
‘Are you sure she wasn’t moving?’ Jody says. ‘She didn’t wave to you or anything like that?’
But Dylan won’t answer any more questions. It’s turned into an interrogation, and all they’re going to do is scare him.
‘Well, it doesn’t matter now,’ Jody says. ‘Let’s have a swim before it gets too hot.’
She falls in with Sam as they walk down the beach. After the turmoil of the last night’s storm, the sea is almost deceptively benign, flat and calm and a pure deep blue.
‘Think I spotted another camera,’ Sam whispers. ‘Up in the first line of trees, facing down over the boat.’
‘So we’re right about the stick figures. The boat. It was all put there so we’d choose this beach as our base – and then we could be watched.’
‘Yeah. But we have to act like nothing’s changed.’
Jody still isn’t sure what this will achieve, but decides not to argue. She indicates Grace, tentatively swishing her toes in the shallows. ‘Do you think there was a boat?’
‘No reason to doubt it.’
‘So this...’ – Jody can’t say angel – ‘this woman Dylan saw, it could have been someone from the boat?’
‘Maybe. But I can’t see why she’d be standing there.’ A pause, before he says, ‘What do you reckon?’
Jody runs a hand through her hair. ‘I don’t know what to think anymore.’
Sam can’t help marvelling at how Jody manages to shrug off her doubts. Once they join the kids in the water, she’s acting as though this is just another ordinary day. It’s a great achievement – and it’s definitely the right thing to do, for the sake of the kids – but at the same time it only adds to his anger and resentment at whoever’s put them here.
They shouldn’t have to pretend anything.
They swim in their underwear, then it’s back to the boat, where they dry off and dress. With all the salt and sweat, their clothes feel rank, but Jody insists they have to keep covered up. It’s going to be another scorching hot day, and there’s only enough sun cream to protect their faces and necks.
She opens the third coconut and carefully shares it out. While he eats, Sam can’t help casting frequent glances towards the western ridge. With salt in his eyelashes, his vision keeps blurring, and for the second or two until it clears, he almost believes that he might see her – Dylan’s angel lady.
But is she a good omen, or bad?
The knowledge that they’re being watched won’t leave him alone, and he worries that it’s making their conversation sound false. He thinks again about his lunatic idea of setting the woods alight. That would show up on camera soon enough – and on a hot dry island you’d take a forest fire pretty seriously, wouldn’t you?
As Sam ponders, his hand finds something unfamiliar in the pocket of his chinos. It’s the thin metal tag he removed from the boat. He hasn’t yet found a use for it, though an idea comes to him now. Smiling to himself, he files it away for later.
He notices Grace wincing as she rakes the bottom of her leg with her fingernails. ‘That bite still hurting?’
‘It’s horrible.’
Jody crouches down and takes a closer look. Sam sees a flash of worry in her face, gone before Grace can pick up on it.
‘A bit inflamed,’ Jody says, but that’s an understatement. Sam can see a bright red lump with three or four scabs where Grace has made it bleed. ‘Try to leave it alone,’ Jody tells her. ‘I don’t have any antiseptic, but the salt water should help.’
Grace looks unconvinced. It’s only a few seconds till her hand is creeping towards it again. Sam suggests they take a walk along the tree line, collecting up wood for another fire.
First they agree on a couple more mouthfuls of lukewarm water. That’s two thirds of the second bottle gone already – and they can’t bank on it raining again this evening.
A few minutes into the search there’s a welcome discovery. After catching her foot on a bramble, Jody delves into the trees and finds a whole clump of them, loaded with blackberries. She emerges with her palm full of the plump black fruit.
‘There isn’t much I can guarantee that’s safe to eat, but these definitely are.’
Sam takes one. It’s not something he’s normally keen on, but after twenty-four hours with nothing but coconut, to sample a different flavour is mind-blowing. And this isn’t only food: it’s juice.
Thankfully the kids like them, and they spend a long time stuffing their faces. Dylan ends up with the juice smeared all over his cheeks, leading Grace to christen him Ribena Boy.
Then it’s back to the search for firewood, though as they get closer to the ridge, Sam can’t help drifting away from the others. With a subtle nod to Jody, he follows the rocky path towards the water, stopping every couple of paces to examine the ground.
A short distance from the sea there’s a kind of bulge where the rocks slope out and upwards for a few metres. Sam decides to climb it, wondering if he might spot some evidence of a boat having come ashore. He doesn’t hold out much hope of seeing anything, but he’s wrong.
Jody tries to keep the children focused on the hunt for fallen branches, though Grace isn’t easily fooled.
‘What’s Dad doing?’
‘Nothing.’
‘I don’t think she was there. Dylan made it up.’
‘That’s not what he’s…’ Jody tails off, because Sam has climbed to the top of a sharp limestone crag. She watches him go up on tiptoe, craning to see.
When he returns, his face is grave. Jody moves to intercept him while they’re still out of earshot of the children.
‘No footprints, as far as I can see. The ground’s hard and dry, but I couldn’t find any marks on the beach either side.’ Despite that, he is giving her a meaningful look.
‘But you saw something…’
He nods. ‘On the next beach but one.’
‘What?’
‘Can’t really tell from this distance, but it looks like a cage.’
‘A cage?’ A worried glance at Grace and Dylan. ‘Could you see what’s inside it?’
‘Not really. But this means there was a boat, so maybe Dylan did see a woman up there.’
Jody sighs. ‘This is our next “trial”, isn’t it?’
‘Probably.’ He starts to move towards the kids when she grabs his arm.
‘Aren’t we going to check it out?’
‘Later.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Because that’s what they’ll expect us to do.’
Accepting the logic of his argument, Jody helps to gather a bundle of kindling and a few more hefty branches. Back at the boat, Sam lays the wood out to dry while the kids lie down in the shade. A brief rest, Jody says, and then they can pick some more blackberries.
‘Do we have to?’ Grace asks. She can’t leave her leg alone. ‘I’m tired.’
‘I know, but it’s important. We don’t want the birds
to eat them.’
Sam snaps his fingers. ‘That reminds me. An idea I had.’
‘Oh?’
‘Tell you later.’ His cryptic tone is a reminder that she failed to prise out the secret he’s been keeping. In a lower voice, he says, ‘Found another camera. Top of the beach, set into a rock next to the path we’ve been using.’
Jody casts a nonchalant glance in that direction and spots a dark circular patch on the rock. It reminds her of Sussex flint, except it’s far too uniform in shape.
‘Sneaky bastards.’ She sidles closer to him. ‘I’ve been thinking about these tests. Leaving the water for us. It’s like they want us to survive, at least for a while.’
He grunts. ‘I s’pose.’
‘They could easily have sent a boat by now, but they haven’t. So there must be something else they’ve got in mind.’
‘Yeah. Which is why I don’t want to check out this cage until I’m good and ready.’
‘All right, but what I’m trying to get at is: why us?’
‘Jode, we went through this yesterday–’
‘I know, and I want to go through it again.’
‘We’ll just drive ourselves mad.’
Ignoring him, she says, ‘It feels like we were chosen at random, because we certainly haven’t done anything to deserve this. But if that’s the case, why couldn’t the Baxters have gone in our place?’
‘I dunno.’
‘And like you said, Gabby seemed so relieved when we made it to the welcome meeting. That must mean we’d already been selected. The four of us, not the two of them. But why?’
He stares at the ground, idly carving a furrow in the sand with his toes. ‘Trouble is, we can talk about it all day, but will that get us out of here? No. So what’s the point?’
‘We have to think of something, and if this helps us to… to brainstorm, then it’s worth a try. What will get us out of here? that’s what we need to ask.’
Sam laughs, a harsh and unexpected sound, and says, ‘Dying.’
Jody flinches, seeing that there’s no sense trying to discuss it when he’s in this mood.
‘Sorry, but that’s the only sure way that comes to mind.’ There’s no humour in his voice this time; not even a trace of sarcasm. ‘Dying.’