Chapter 33
When I wake up, for a blissful half-second, I don’t know where I am, or what’s going on, but then I feel the two large men lying each side of me, and I hear the roar of the ocean, and remember where I am.
That’s not all I remember though. I remember the waterfall.
Lockie’s hands in my hair. His mouth on mine.
The way we’d stumbled back to camp in the dark like teenagers sneaking home past curfew.
The way he’d found my hand under the blanket and held it like it meant something. He’s still holding it now.
Today isn’t going to be easy for a lot of reasons so it’s easy to stay in the memory of last night.
I feel Lockie squeeze my hand before he speaks.
‘Morning,’ he says.
‘Morning,’ I reply.
Ozzy lets out a little snore, inadvertently letting us know he’s still sleeping.
Careful not to wake him, I roll over to face Lockie. His hair’s a mess, his eyes are still heavy with sleep, and I’ve never been more attracted to him. He looks at me like he’s still not sure last night actually happened.
‘You doing okay?’ he asks.
‘Yeah,’ I reply, keeping my voice down. ‘You?’
He nods as he brushes hair from my eyes, gently tucking it behind my ear.
‘Good morning, campers,’ Tony calls out.
Lockie and I give each other some space as the gang head over. Ozzy wakes up and climbs out of bed, leaving the two of us in bed together.
Lockie gives my hand one last squeeze under the blanket before letting go. Then we get up too. I suppose we have to face the day eventually. Before we know it we’ll be clinging on to our sea vessels for dear life, hoping for the best, probably expecting the worst.
I know it’s going to sound crazy, not only because I didn’t want to come here in the first place, but also because I’m not exactly cut out for desert island life, but I actually, kind of – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – don’t want to leave.
The thing is, I’m happy. I’m actually happy.
I have Lockie, I have my friends, we have our simple island life.
Would I like a Starbucks and a manicure?
Yes. But am I worried about what’s going to happen between me and Lockie when we go back to real life? Absolutely.
But we’ve all jumped to action, we’re sticking with the plan, and we’re doing it.
Lockie stands beside me, watching the others gather supplies.
‘Are you ready?’ he asks me.
‘To send ourselves adrift?’ I check. ‘Born ready.’
Lockie laughs.
But I wish we could go back to the waterfall, just the two of us, and stay there.
Do you know what though? As scared as I am – about the raft, and letting Lockie hold my heart in his hands – for the first time in a long time, I have hope.
Yeah, some things have been shit (on and off the island) but there’s hope for getting rescued, and there’s hope for me and Lockie.
If I just let myself be an optimist for once.
Yes, I’ve woken up with my usual island backache, but I almost don’t mind it, probably because I know it’s my last one. Well, when I’m back home, I know I’ll look back at this whole experience and remember the good things because there have been some.
‘I might use the outhouse, one last time, for old time’s sake,’ Lockie says.
I laugh.
‘Make the most of it,’ I tell him.
Lockie heads off, back up the beach, and I don’t know why I turn to look at him – probably just because he’s nice to look at – but he doesn’t go to the outhouse, he disappears into the trees, moving like…
I don’t know, like he doesn’t want to be seen.
What on earth is he up to? I suppose there’s only one way to know for sure.
So I follow him, creeping barefoot, keeping a few paces back, ducking every time he glances around. He heads deeper into the jungle, behind the old production building – somewhere no one ever bothers going.
My heart is pounding. I guess it’s scary, following someone, but there’s just something about his body language, like he’s up to no good.
I give him a few seconds to get a little further ahead of me, just to see what he’s doing because – if it’s bad, then I need to catch him in the act.
Except I’m scared to look. What if it is something bad? I don’t know what, but I don’t know what good it could be either. I just feel like things are so good and, if I look around that corner, and I don’t like what I see, then that’s it.
I have to look, don’t I? I’ll always wonder if I don’t.
‘Yeah. We should be on the boat in under an hour, keep on camera forty-two when we set off,’ he says into a walkie-talkie. He’s standing in front of an open hatch, one I’ve never seen before. ‘Use the GPS in the wristbands to get a location pin on us. You can intercept as soon as we’re—’
‘Are you fucking serious?’ I snap.
He spins around, his eyes wide. He definitely wasn’t expecting me to catch him mid-whatever this is.
‘Lockie? What’s going on? Over.’ I hear Simon’s voice over the walkie.
‘Cleo—’ Lockie starts.
‘You absolute arsehole,’ I cut him off.
‘I can explain,’ he tells me.
Ha! Can he? Does he even need to? It looks pretty fucking self-explanatory to me.
‘Oh, really,’ I say as I approach him. ‘Because it kind of looks like you’ve been sneaking off to talk to Simon? All this time? Were you in on it from the start?’
‘No,’ he says firmly. ‘No, it wasn’t like that—’
‘Get this stupid wristband off me right now,’ I snap, shoving my arm at him.
Suddenly, the microphone on my wrist feels like it’s burning my skin.
‘Just let me—’
‘Now!’ I demand.
He hesitates for a split second before crouching in front of the hatch and dragging out a first aid kit. He takes out a knife and cuts through the plastic of my wristband, freeing me from it.
‘Cleo, please—’
‘I’m not talking to you while you’re still wearing yours,’ I reply.
He holds my stare, then, without breaking it, cuts off his own wristband. He drops it on the floor next to mine.
‘There,’ he says quietly. ‘No mics. No trackers. There aren’t any cameras in this area. Simon can’t hear us on the walkie unless I push the button. Can we please talk?’
‘You’ve been filming us this whole time?’ I blurt. My voice shakes with anger. ‘This entire fucking time? Has it been airing?’
His shoulders drop guiltily.
‘Yes. But we didn’t plan for it to go like this,’ he replies. ‘The walkie was just a backup for Simon, in case something went wrong. The storm was real though—’
‘I know the storm was real!’ I snap. ‘It’s not the wanking Truman Show.’
He swallows hard, trying to find the words that won’t piss me off more – good luck to him.
‘When it hit, everything did go dark. But then, when the feed came back… I spoke to Simon. He said the viewing figures were through the roof. He said if we stayed put, just a little longer, it would be the best story they’ve ever had.’
‘It’s not a story,’ I clap back. ‘It’s our lives. You took our choice away. Our free will!’
‘Everyone is going to come out of this looking great,’ he reassures me, stepping closer. ‘The show is a smash. We kept it alive. Simon loves us for it—’
‘Well, I hate him. And I hate you too,’ I blurt.
It’s not at all elegant, but at least it’s honest.
‘Cleo, all we have to do is get on the boat, and then the island feed cuts off,’ he says.
‘You know what the contracts are like, they say if we interfere with the show, they can sue us for damages. So we just play along. They’ll switch to rescue footage.
There’s going to be this big send-off, they’re going to have the final today.
We did it. Shortest season ever and the most viewers. ’
‘I don’t care,’ I say, backing away. ‘I don’t care about viewers, or Simon, or…’
My voice trails off as something hits me like a slap across the face.
‘You knew we were being filmed,’ I whisper. ‘Last night. When we…’
My face burns with fury and humiliation in equal measure.
‘You knew they were watching. And you let me. You let me…’
‘Cleo—’
‘You bastard.’
‘Just let me—’
‘Don’t say another word,’ I insist, backing away from him. ‘I’m going back to camp. Out in the open. In front of the cameras where you can’t give me your lame excuses. We’ll be off this island soon enough, then you and I are done.’
I don’t wait for his reply. I run. Branches whip my arms but I don’t stop. It’s funny, I hated the cameras being on me, they made me feel uneasy. Now they’re my safety net. My protection.
I thought the cameras were the danger. Turns out it was Lockie all along.