Survivor

by Tom Hoyle

  Anyway, I wouldn’t even have mentioned it except so much time has been wasted on it already.

  On the final three-hour flight to Cairns I was in the very back row next to Toby. It didn’t feel awkward in the way that it would sitting next to a teacher. Jason and Peter were across the aisle and they were deep in conversation much of the time.

  Toby was the sort of guy I looked up to: really nice and often funny; cool (without trying) and in control. He seemed to like me. Jason sometimes spoke to Toby, and I caught snatches of their conversation between sleeps. First, Jason was talking about how he came to be a leader on the trip – he had volunteered because he wanted to do something fun and helpful rather than live an empty life making money. I heard Toby explaining he was doing Ultimate Bushcraft in a gap year after finishing at university, then he hoped to be a teacher, maybe in England. He’d been travelling around Europe with his girlfriend for a few weeks before meeting us in Heathrow and thought London was pretty cool.

  Toby and Jason; Luke, Lee, Peter, and the others – I stupidly thought they’d wander in and out of my life leaving only happy memories.

  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  [Here ends the fifth part of George’s statement]

  THE OTHER CHAPTER 5

  (SAID IN THE HOUR BEFORE):

  HIM

  Even tyrants must sleep. That’s the saying.

  And I saw you sleep. Sleep through the bit of turbulence, sleep through that STUPID woman complaining about us. I could have done anything and you would have been powerless to stop me. I could have tied your laces together. I could have put a beetle in your ear. I could have shot you.

  SAY that I make you laugh. Go on. SAY IT. SAY IT NOW.

  You were talking to that really strange one sitting next to you, smarming up to him, brown-nosing so that everyone would love Georgey.

  I’ll admit – with honesty, more honesty than YOU have, remember – that I was a little bit jealous.

  And it was then that my hatred began to grow. Like a beanstalk.

  Now, I said that I would tell you something about ME.

  Let’s start with Mummy and Daddy. Sometimes a man and a woman don’t love one another very much and they produce a baby.

  Mummy. She’s a cardboard cut-out. Like the ones you see in the cinema when there’s a big film showing. Easily knocked over. All make-up and smiles. And Valium.

  And Daddy. He’s the man on the moon. The ogre at the top of the beanstalk.

  I was always totally different to them. I would read and think and experiment, and they would watch TV and shout and then make up in the sitting room.

  They hated me from the start. It’s a surprise I’ve turned out SO normal.

  Oh yeah. I’ll answer the question you’ve been dying – dying, get it? – to ask. When did I decide to start my master plan?

  It was after what happened when we arrived in Cairns.

  I had to get REVENGE.

  STATEMENT #5

  VALERIE COLLINS

  Mrs Valerie Collins was on the same flight that the Ultimate Bushcraft group took from Singapore to Sydney:

  Yes. I remember those boys sitting in the row behind us. I have to say they made a horrid racket, fuelled by an awful amount of sugar no doubt. They really should have been better controlled. I did complain. They were continually going up and down the aisles, to the loo, passing sweets to one another, throwing fizzy pop around. And the one you described, George Fleet, I think I can remember him. He was a brooding presence in the background, I suppose, as much as I can recall.

  CHAPTER 6

  (ONE WEEK BEFORE):

  THE SIXTH PART OF GEORGE’S STATEMENT

  Sydney may have been in their ‘winter’, but Cairns, in Queensland at the top of Australia, is pretty much always summer – wet summer at Christmas, and dry summer in July. It was cloudy, but the heat hit us the moment we stepped outside, lugging our bags after us, saying nothing.

  We threw ourselves on to a minibus that was driven by a girl called Andrea. She was probably four or five years older than us, and had light brown hair and was pretty and tanned. We all raised our eyebrows and muttered comments, at least until she and Toby had a kiss that showed they were more than just friends . . .

  ‘I missed you on the journey,’ I heard her say to him.

  On the minibus, I happened to end up sitting next to Peter. Peter Emsworth-Lyle. I’d hardly spoken to him so far. The first five minutes were spent admiring his new red-and-black Emporio Armani trainers. His voice was posh – more than posh, it was sneering. He didn’t waste any time telling me that his dad was a top banker and his mum a top lawyer. His parents had paid for the trip so that they could tour Europe without leaving him at home alone in Chelsea.

  The story sounded a bit weird, but possibly only because I didn’t live in the world of yachts and five-star hotels.

  ‘Do you mind being away from them?’ I asked.

  ‘They’ve always been in another dimension,’ he said. ‘I don’t get on with either of them. That’s why they sent me to boarding school in Scotland when I was seven. They try and make themselves feel better by buying me expensive stuff – like these trainers. Though I doubt you know much about designer clothes.’

  I knew it was an insult but let it go. ‘So being away from home is normal to you, then?’

  ‘Everything is pretty normal to me, George. Absolutely everything.’

  It wasn’t only the conversation that was difficult. I remember now how the journey was made uncomfortable because the knees of the boy behind were sticking in my back. It wasn’t exactly his fault – the wheel arch made it difficult for him to fit in.

  Reg kept on apologizing. ‘Sorry, George, I’m very sorry . . . I can’t keep my knees out the way. Sorry, George, I really didn’t want to do that . . . There’s not enough room.’ After Peter and I had stopped talking, microsleeps were interrupted with, ‘Sorry, George. Sorry, George . . .’ The apologies, to be honest, were more annoying than the knees. Reg stood out in the group because he was big (by which I mean fat), probably 18 stone, maybe more. I mention it because the story of that first night in Australia is mainly about Reg.

  We arrived in the late afternoon, about two hours after leaving Cairns Airport, but it could have been a million miles away.

  ‘Welcome to Thorpe Cove,’ said Toby. Thorpe Cove – the words make me shudder now, but at the time it was exciting. It was a smallish bay with a perfect sandy beach with trees on either side dipping down into the water. The sun was sinking behind the hills beyond the house. Five canoes had been dragged high on to the golden sand. We stood and swore in admiration. For a short time, we really were one unit.

  ‘This is where you’ll be based for the first four days, guys. Satisfied?’ said Toby.

  We all nodded and smiled.

  ‘Not bad, eh?’ said Jason.

  Toby was very much in charge. ‘After you’ve all had a shower, I’ll explain what we’re going to do. Don’t hang around.’

  The accommodation was basic but clean, a bit like the sort of thing you get on a school trip, but with two people sharing rooms that could sleep eight, each with a small toilet attached. There was one big shower room with ten cubicles and a large open area with about six shower heads.

  I had a room to myself, at least until Matt caught up with us. The others were sharing. This was Toby’s decision. He said it wasn’t a reward for what happened on the plane, but because he thought Matt would like it.

  I dumped my stuff immediately and dashed to the shower to avoid the crowd that was bound to follow. In fact, without the delay of having someone else in my room to talk to, I was washed and out before the next person arrived. It was Nick, the guy who had been sitting next to me on the plane when Matt had his attack.

  ‘All right, George,’ he said, catching my eye for a second and then openly scrutinizing my chest. ‘I see you’ve been down the gym.’

  ‘I’m a bit of a swimmer and do land training every now and
again.’ I knew that was an understatement, but didn’t want to boast. ‘But I’m never going to win the Olympics.’ I had a quick glance at Nick, who was also just in a towel. I knew I was pretty trim, but he was a block of proper muscle. Immediately after my glance, he dropped his towel and stood there with nothing on. I made sure that I kept looking straight into his eyes.

  Lee and Luke (who were sharing a room) entered at that point, chatting away, ignoring Nick and me.

  ‘I’ve got some protein supplements and some other stuff if you’re interested,’ Nick said quietly. ‘Not things you can get on the open market.’

  Looking at Lee and Luke rather than at Nick, I tried to explain that I was interested in swimming rather than body building. Given that he was definitely into the latter, I didn’t want to insult him.

  ‘Don’t try to be perfect all the time,’ he said, a hint of ice creeping into his voice for the first time. ‘Nobody wants that.’

  ‘I’ll let you know,’ I said cagily, making for the door without turning round as two others then came in, which meant everyone was there apart from Reg. Just for a second I wondered if Reg had delayed his arrival because at least some undressing had to happen in the central part of the shower room in front of everyone.

  ‘Yeah. Let me know, mate,’ said Nick, now behind his shower curtain.

  Jason, just in trunks, was leaning on the open door into Reg’s room when I passed by on the way back to my room. He was encouraging Reg into the shower room. ‘Come on, mate, you’ll need plenty of time to wash.’ There was a bit of a chuckle in his voice.

  I wasn’t sure whether this was a joke about Reg’s size. I poked my head round his door. ‘See you outside afterwards,’ I said.

  ‘Do you want to take over?’ Jason said straight away. ‘I can see you’re in charge.’

  I felt embarrassed. ‘See you in a bit, Reg,’ I said, and then to Jason: ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Jason said, walking away, stretching his arms out as if doing front crawl. ‘I think I’ll go and wash in the sea.’

  Feeling a bit bruised by these conversations with both Nick and Jason, and (to be really honest) probably a bit irritated by lack of sleep, I went into my room and tried to get the Wi-Fi to work on my iPad so that I could Skype Jess and Louis (and Mum and Dad). My room looked out on to the bay and in the distance I could just about see Jason in the water – he looked like he could be a good swimmer if he had a bit of training.

  Maybe twenty minutes later, Alastair, who everyone called Al, put his head round my door. He and I had only said a few words to one another up to this point, but he seemed friendly enough. ‘Time to meet on the beach,’ he said. ‘Oh – did you get Wi-Fi?’

  I explained that I could only get a very slight signal on the iPad and one blob on my phone.

  ‘Maybe we can try together after the talk?’ Al suggested.

  We walked outside to the beach. Toby was sitting on one of three long logs that were laid out to make a triangle; Peter and Nick were whispering together on another and glancing back at the building, while Luke and Lee sat on the third – so they were in room formation. Alastair and I made six. Only Reg and Jason were missing.

  I had just sat down next to Toby when Jason ran out of the building, barefoot and still damp from his swim, and parked himself next to Peter.

  ‘What’s keeping Reg?’ asked Nick. ‘Is he still drying himself? It’d be a major operation.’

  There was some laughter, but not from me, partly because Toby didn’t laugh.

  ‘What is keeping him?’ Toby said. ‘George, could you run and have a look?’

  (I am sure he asked me because I was next to him, rather than out of favouritism.)

  I’d only gone a couple of paces when Reg appeared at the door to the house, which was about a hundred yards away. He wasn’t wearing anything but was holding (I found out later) one of Alastair’s shirts in front of him to avoid being completely naked. He was shouting and agitated. There was a fair bit of swearing as well, which I’ll miss out: ‘Where’ve you put my clothes?’ he yelled, seemingly at all of us. ‘And my towel and everything? Where are they?’ He was almost crying with frustration.

  Toby started running towards him and I followed. I could hear Peter and Nick hooting with laughter and I fired an angry stare at them. Looking back, I realize I looked like a stupid do-gooder. But I didn’t stay out of it, and that’s that.

  ‘I’ll kill whoever’s done this!’ Reg snarled at me. Then to the others: ‘I hate you all!’

  ‘You can put some of my clothes on,’ I offered stupidly. ‘Come on, Reg, let’s go inside.’

  ‘I can’t fit into your clothes, you thick bastard,’ he shouted at me.

  ‘Reg, I think you should . . .’ Toby started.

  ‘You let this happen,’ Reg shouted at Toby.

  ‘Reg, I want us to be friends,’ I said pretty firmly. ‘But you need to calm down, mate.’

  My words had an immediate effect. Reg’s voice lightened. Transformed. ‘Then please find my clothes. Rather than just standing there looking at my sexy body . . .’ He turned, bum on full view to the other boys, which set Nick and Peter off again, and went inside, followed by Toby.

  I was going to follow, but sudden anger messed with my judgement. The idea of someone bullying this boy – and bullying is what this was – burnt within me. (Why? OK – it’s because I slightly bullied someone at school years ago and have felt guilty about it ever since. You can investigate that if you like, and may want to use it against me, but it was about six years ago and has really made me stand up for anyone who is bullied ever since.) I strode back to the others.

  ‘Where the hell have you put his stuff?’ I said to Peter and Nick.

  ‘That was bloody funny, but I didn’t do it,’ drawled Peter, who was as thin as Reg was fat, but no one thought to laugh at that. ‘And don’t speak to me like that. I’m not your slave.’

  ‘Not me, guv,’ shrugged Nick, sneering, but then more serious. ‘Not after a fight, are you? Coming over here and lording it over us.’

  Jason, still sitting next to Peter, was silent.

  ‘I don’t want to fight,’ I said. For a couple of seconds I revved like a car in neutral, then decided to take a different tack. ‘Look, why don’t we all look for his stuff? Then the person, or people, who’ve hidden it can find it for Reg.’

  ‘Sounds like a good plan,’ said Lee. ‘It’s logical to start inside the house.’

  Luke said he’d check outside, round the back.

  ‘Come on then boys and girls.’ Finally, Jason had spoken. The girls, judging by his stare, were Lee, Luke and me.

  Everyone scattered. Peter and Nick wandered aimlessly around the front of the house, looking half-heartedly, possibly because they felt falsely accused, or probably, I thought, because if they headed straight to the hiding place they’d look properly guilty.

  Luke and Alastair appeared to take the search seriously. I glanced out of one of the back windows of the house and saw them moving methodically around the car park and surrounding vegetation. Alastair lay on his side and checked under the minibus.

  Lee and I then met in the middle of the house, having searched from opposite ends. We could hear a much calmer Reg talking to Toby and Jason inside his room.

  ‘What would Sherlock Holmes do?’ asked Lee.

  I said that I didn’t have any idea, and wasn’t sure how logical or intelligent someone who stole all a boy’s clothes would be.

  ‘But someone like that would think logically according to their own internal rationality.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, playing along. ‘They’d either destroy the clothes completely . . .’

  Lee put up his hands, pausing slightly while preparing something clever to say. ‘There’s no fire without smoke. I see no evidence of total destruction.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, shrugging. ‘So, well, I’d do something dumb with them. I don’t know – float them out to sea?’

  ‘Good thinking. And h
ow would you do that?’

  ‘Put them in a canoe?’ I wondered.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Lee. ‘Are you sure you’re not responsible? But there were five canoes when we first arrived and there are still five now. I thought of that.’

  ‘I’m guessing you’re not responsible.’ I chuckled.

  ‘Perhaps I am,’ said Lee, ‘and this conversation is a clever way for me to cover my highly intelligent tracks. But proceeding on the premise that I’m not the wrongdoer, and assuming that the culprit didn’t do anything destructive, he’d want to do something annoying . . .’ He sighed.

  ‘Hold on, Lee,’ I said. ‘You are a genius. And he wouldn’t have long to act – where does the rubbish go?’

  Lee pointed to the door at the far end of the passageway. ‘Out there, I think.’

  As we left the house, and turned to the fenced-off area that looked as if it held the wheelie bins, Luke was just returning from his car-park search. ‘I’ve already looked in there,’ he shouted. ‘Nothing. Full of rubbish. It stinks!’

  I went in anyway, with Lee and Luke following.

  ‘I see what you mean,’ I said as I opened the first bin. The second was only half full. The third had a black sack on top – but when I nudged it with my finger, more of a prod than a proper investigation, I realized it was an empty one stretched over the top of a silver suitcase.

  ‘Elementary, my dear George,’ said Lee.

  ‘Well done, Superhero Georgey,’ said Luke.

  From outside came Peter’s drawling voice: ‘Found any rubbish in there?’

  ‘We’ve found this,’ I said triumphantly, pulling out the case with Luke’s reluctant help.

  ‘He who smelt it dealt it, that’s what I think,’ said Nick. ‘So you know who I think hid it: he who went straight to where it was hidden.’

  ‘Come on, man,’ Alastair, who had wandered over from the minibus, said. ‘We all know George didn’t do it.’

  ‘I’m getting this back to Reg,’ I said, rolling the case towards the door. I was pretty sure Nick and Peter were responsible – it seemed obvious – so it was with a look at them that I said, ‘Let’s hope that’s the last bit of bullying.’ It must have sounded a bit pompous, but I wanted to take a stand.