Page 81 of The Summer Island Swap
But Amy and I were equals and looked after each other now.
‘I hope not. Surely Rick would have warned us? It must have been forecast for several days. I feel so stupid for not taking in exactly what Malik was saying about the weather. What do you think we should do?’ I asked instead of thinking I had to do the fixing myself. ‘Stay or try to make our way back? I’m not sure which is best.’
She glanced at the sea. ‘Perhaps we should move. I don’t like the height of those waves. If there was a tsunami…’
I wanted to tell her to stop catastrophising but she had a point – we were out in the wilds, in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, not nestling in a cosy bar near the river Thames.
I yanked Amy to her feet. Heart racing, I pulled the rucksack onto my back. Amy hurried through the rainforest. I ran to keep up. The ground had become muddy and I lost my balance. I tried my best to right myself. My back ricked. Lightning cracked as I slipped and tumbled to the ground.
Pain shot across my forehead as it hit a tree root.
36
Despite the throbbing pain, I managed to open my eyes. Footsteps pounded above the rain and Amy appeared. She knelt by my side.
‘You’re bleeding,’ she said loudly, above the storm. Her voice wavered. ‘You’re all right, aren’t you?’
I wiped my hand across the wound and flinched. As I sat up, I looked at my fingers, smeared with red.
‘I’m okay.’
‘What?’
‘I’m okay,’ I said louder, even though it hurt my head. ‘Just give me a minute.’ My teeth chattered uncontrollably. Another clap of thunder made us both jump. It had been a strain to walk against the force of the wind but wehadto get back to the camp and proper shelter. Aside from the raging weather, everything else in the forest was quiet. There was no bird call. No chirp of insects. And the fragrance of flowers had disappeared. All I could smell was damp bark and woody soil.
‘We need to get away from these tall trees,’ I said. ‘They could be blown down on top of us.’
Amy shook her head. ‘Near those tall trees is exactly where we should stay. They will attract lightning first. If we stand in an open space, we’ll be the target. For the same reason we need to avoid the top of the hill. In retrospect I think we’re just going to have to crouch down until…’
‘Until help comes or the storm passes,’ I said firmly.
‘Exactly.’ An unspoken understanding ignited between us. We would get through this. Amy took my arm and we sat at the base of a nearby sugar apple tree. Rain stung my face.
Unpleasant questions popped into my head. What if this weather actually did turn extreme? We should be inside a building or underground.
What if I never had the chance to say sorry to Rick for lying about my job? For backing off even though I could hardly spend one minute without him in my thoughts?
I’d always imagined Amy and me growing old together. Perhaps we’d travel or both have kids and they’d be friends…
Nelly… Suddenly I missed our cat so much.
And what about Chatty?
My heart ached as I recalled my last proper conversation with Mum, before the end came, a moment of lucidity amongst her growing incoherence.
‘Look after Amy,’ she’d said, under her ever-weakening breath. ‘And look after yourself, Sarah. Live life for me. One day have the retirement I’m going to miss out on, with friends, family and hobbies, all against the backdrop of a job you’ve loved. You deserve that, my darling, and so much more. Never forget how much I love you. I’ll be watching. I’ll be your own shiny star.’
I’d held her hand tight, trying to will my life into her, with an unblinking gaze, not wanting to miss a single second of her last moments. Then Dad had come in. Told me my time was up. I wouldn’t beg for more time. That would have upset Mum. So I bent over her. Kissed her cold cheek. Smoothed her hair neatly like she used to when she said goodnight to me. I whispered that she looked lovely. It was hard. I was only eleven. I told her she’d been the best mum a girl could ever want. Mum was mumbling by now. Something about me being a good little girl. Dad pulled at my arm.
I didn’t want to let go.
I left that room looking over my shoulder, part of me understanding that I’d never see my mother again.
Amy was waiting outside, playing with her favourite doll. I’d smiled brightly and told her Mum sent her love. She wanted to see her. Dad had picked us both up at school. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t go in. I told her the room smelt of yukky cleaning products and that Mum was practically asleep anyway.
A tear ran down my face. I’d tried so hard not to cry in front of Amy over the years but maybe I should have. I gulped. Sat upright. Amy and I could deal with this.
‘Come on,’ I shouted. ‘We’ll freeze to death at this rate. We need to build a shelter. We can do it, Amy. You and me.’
