Page 54 of Taking the Heat

‘Babe, I have to.’ He didn’t meet my eyes, staring at the door leading back up to hell. ‘I can’t leave her out there alone.’

‘Send someone else!’ I was crying freely now, hysterical at the thought of him leaving. ‘There are other people—producers, production runners, wardrobe stylists! It doesn’t have to be you!’

‘You know it does.’ He kissed me between the eyes. ‘I love you. I’ll be back.’

He detangled himself from me gently, then walked to the door quickly without looking back. ‘No! No! Baby, please! Chris!’ The wind sucked the metal door closed behind him and he was gone. ‘No! Chris!No!’

I sank to the floor, weeping and incoherent. Mocking me, the storm began to rage even harder, the noise unbearably loud, drowning out the sound of my cries for the man I loved to come back.

Gentle hands lifted me up but I kept my face in my hands, blocking out the world. ‘Here, put her here.’ A soft blanket was draped over my shoulders. The warm chest holding me tight made me cry harder. If it wasn’t Chris, it didn’t help.

I was lowered onto a mattress and I heard Jen’s lyrical voice say, ‘Shh, shh, beautiful girl, he will be alright. I’m going to dry your hair, alright?’ I didn’t answer, but I felt her slender fingers rubbing a towel over my head.

Henry spoke. ‘Jen, she has glass in her cheek. I’m going to fetch the first-aid kit from the others.’

I continued to cry brokenly as Henry and Jen cared for me, treating the gash on my face, drying me off and wrapping me in blankets.

‘Goodness, she’s still shaking.’

‘It will be shock. I have seen it many times. You hold her that side and I will lie over here. Together, we will warm her up.’

My saviours cuddled me, Jen’s skin smooth and hot as she hummed a gentle tune, while Henry’s firm chest supported my head.

I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep. Not until I knew Chris was safe. With the cyclone thundering above us, every smash and bang tore at my heart. Opening my eyes, I lay and shook and waited.

The room had fallen quiet, with people lying down and trying to get some rest. Someone else was weeping softly and Mama Ruby was singing a haunting tune, the words carried away by the sound of the ever-present wind.

***

Hours passed. My eyes were locked open, grainy and aching.Where is he, where is he, where is he?

Henry and Jen were asleep on either side of me, their hands laced together on my hip. I was grateful for their care—if they weren’t holding me, I would have jumped up a thousand times and run recklessly out the door to find Chris.

My brain began to turn on itself.

He’s dead.

No! He’s fine.

He’s dead. You’ll never see him again.

I don’t believe you.

Why isn’t he back, then? Hmm?

Because he’s dead.

He’s dead.

Chris is dead.

Stop!I turned my face into Henry’s chest, hiding in the folds of his cotton shirt for comfort.

Slam!The door crashed open and Chris stood there, silhouetted against the dark stairs, Aanya cradled in his arms.

His skin was nicked and scratched in a hundred places, his pants shredded and soaking. He looked around the room for me, finding me lying in Henry’s embrace.

I was frozen in joy, so relieved he was alive I couldn’t move. Our eyes met and I expected him to smile.

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