Page 82 of The Summer Island Swap
We found a clear space of ground, behind a cluster of wide trees and searched frantically for fallen branches. When we finally had enough, we stood them up in circle and pushed them together at their highest points, wedging the rough ends in between each other. Amy pulled the belt out of her trousers and reached it to me as I was the tallest. As best I could, I tied the branches together, at the top. Then we draped glossy leaves around the sides, fighting the wind to weave them clumsily in between the poles of wood.
One large gust would knock it sideways but the surrounding trees offered protection from the worst of the wind – for the moment anyway. Exhausted, we crawled into the small enclosure. Every time the sides shook, we expected the wigwam to collapse. Thirstily we drank and left our water bottles outside to refill the natural way.
Minutes feeling damp turned to hours shivering. Amy leant her head against my shoulder. Outside it began to turn dark.
I cried now and again, thinking about Mum. Amy saw. We talked about the past. She cried too. We sat holding hands. Amy thanked me for stepping into Mum’s shoes. I thanked her for giving me the motivation to stand up to Dad.
For just a second it felt as if Mum were in there with us too, keeping us warm, telling us everything would be all right. I started to whistle Daydream Believer. Amy joined in singing. We got louder and louder, tears streaming down our faces as we finished.
‘If we get out of this, both of us must follow our dreams,’ I said.
Amy nodded. ‘For us. For Mum.’
Eventually the tears stopped. To my surprise, I felt better for them. Stronger somehow, as if sharing our grief bonded us even more closely.
I cocked my head. The wind had eased. The rain sounded lighter.
We were going to be okay.
I’d go home. Give Nelly a big hug. Apply for jobs. But before all of that I needed to speak to Rick. The storm reminded me of how quickly life can be snatched away. Mum had passed only two months after her diagnosis.
‘Sarah! Amy!’
I strained my ears and shook my sister.
She held fists in the air. ‘Who’s there?’
I almost felt like laughing. ‘It’s all right. I don’t think we’ll need to fight. They know our names.’ I put an index finger to my lips. ‘Listen.’
Someone shouted out again.
I scrabbled out of the makeshift tent, knocking the sides. They fell apart. I pulled Amy out, behind me.
‘Over here!’ I hollered as rain now fell more like confetti.
‘This way,’ shouted Amy and jumped up and down.
Rustling preceded bushes swaying not because of the storm, but due to people pushing their way through foliage and emerging in the dusk. An Indiana Jones hat. Two other men – one of them bald. A woman with bobbed curly hair. I narrowed my eyes and gazed through the approaching darkness. Rick, Jason, Steve and Jackie.
‘We made it,’ Amy whispered. ‘At one stage I wasn’t sure we’d…’
‘Me neither,’ I said, my throat feeling full. ‘But we are two strong women who’ve been through a lot in our lives, and that will always help us get through future ordeals. We’ve inherited that strength from Mum.’
I’d never stop looking out for Amy, like Mum had wanted me to, but I now knew part of that meant being strong enough to take a step back, to let her look out for herself too.
Rick ran over. Jackie as well. She hugged Amy. Rick threw his hat to the ground and took me by the shoulders.
‘What happened? Your head…’
Briefly I explained. He reached into a big rucksack Jason passed him and handed Amy and myself a waterproof coat each. Gratefully we pulled them on – or tried to. Suddenly my limbs felt too heavy to lift. Rick helped whilst Jackie poured steaming coffees out of a flask. Jason and Steve didn’t say much whilst we munched the packed teas we’d not had a chance to eat.
‘We thought it was another hurricane,’ I said, in between mouthfuls of coconut tart, crumbs tumbling out as I spoke. I bit hungrily again. ‘I should have listened to Malik. He warned me. But my mind was so full of Chatty and… other stuff.’
‘What hit today was just the tailwinds of a hurricane that, thankfully, stayed out at sea,’ said Rick. ‘It surprised the forecasters. Yet normally we track the weather a few times a day. The guests… looking for our favourite monkey… all of that distracted us as well.’
‘This is our fault,’ muttered Steve, and ran a hand over his bald head.
‘We’ve been a bunch of first-class idiots,’ said Jason.
