Chapter 20
By the time we make it back to camp, the adrenaline has worn off, and all that’s left is silence – the uneasy, stunned kind of silence that settles around everyone like a fog.
The wind moves through the trees – nothing like it was doing earlier – with a gentle sound, the waves are crashing gently again, it’s like the island is done being chaotic. I wish I could say the same for the rest of us.
We’re all waiting for the same thing: that familiar, bossy, ominous voice to come through the speakers. The one that usually tells us what to do, what not to do, when to do it and so on. We need our instructions.
But it doesn’t come. I don’t know how long we wait, but the quiet in the group feels more unbearable as time ticks by.
Camilla’s the first to break the silence. She smooths her hair, regaining her composure – or trying to at least.
‘So… what now?’ she asks. Her voice trembles, but she covers it well enough with her usual snootiness.
No one answers immediately. Everyone’s eyes flick around camp, looking at each other, or the treeline, or the sea – looking for whoever is going to come and save the day. Still, no one appears. Not even a voice through the speaker to tell us to hang in there.
Lockie rubs a hand over his jaw, his brow furrowed in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before – well, he’s usually so chilled out.
‘I think we’re off-air,’ he mutters, more to himself than anyone. ‘We would have heard something by now, if we were still connected.’
He looks up, meets my eyes for a fraction too long. For just a second, I see the real Lockie – and he looks scared.
The thing is, it’s a sensible decision for anyone to make, but coming from Lockie – someone who works in TV – you know it’s probably true. We’re probably screwed.
‘Well, that’s it then,’ Tony says. ‘Show’s over. We go home.’
‘How?’ Camilla asks. ‘How do we get home? Because I want to go home right now. This isn’t fun any more. I’m not sure it was fun to begin with – but it paid enough to clear my tax bill.’
‘You’re getting paid in money?’ Honey blurts.
‘You guys are getting paid?’ Tony adds.
Oh boy, oh boy.
Normally, contestants are paid a flat fee for each week they’re on the show, but these guys are reality TV stars, so each one negotiated something different with the production company. Or nothing at all, in Tony’s case. I have nothing to do with that side of things.
Tony stares into the crate where we keep our fruit.
‘Is this it? We’re meant to survive on cocktail garnish?’
‘I’m happy to keep fishing,’ Ozzy says.
‘I appreciate that, mate, but I’d murder you for a bag of crisps,’ Tony replies.
‘You’d try,’ Ozzy corrects him, deadly serious.
‘Even if we just had, like, some sauces or something,’ Tony continues pointlessly. ‘Bit of ketchup, spot of hollandaise.’
‘Yes, brunch would fix everything,’ Camilla says with a roll of her eyes.
Tensions are building. I can’t believe we’re scrapping over food already.
‘All right, let’s play a game, break the tension,’ Lockie suggests. ‘If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?’
‘Pizza,’ I answer immediately. ‘And I wouldn’t say no to a bit of the island pineapple on it.’
‘I’m with you there,’ Lockie says. ‘Maybe a bit of pepperoni too. A fancy Hawaiian.’
‘I’d have pasta,’ Honey says. ‘The round one, from—’
‘From a tin?’ Camilla chimes in. We all shoot her a look. ‘Come on, we all know she’s talking about spaghetti hoops and not orecchiette puttanesca.’
‘It all sounds good right now,’ Honey says with a shrug, either not detecting or not caring that Camilla is making fun of her.
‘I miss protein,’ Ozzy says, with all the sadness you’d reserve for a dead relative. ‘I’d do anything for a protein shake.’
Words I never thought I’d hear, and words I’d absolutely never say. You ever hear me say that and you need to call someone, because it’s a covert cry for help.
‘Vanilla whey with peanut butter, banana, oats…’ Ozzy fantasies out loud.
‘Blended beige slop,’ Camilla says, turning up her nose.
‘I want a full roast,’ Tony says, cutting to the chase. ‘Roast beef, horseradish, mash and roasts, Yorkshire puddings the size of your head. And gravy so thick you could slice it.’
Well, that does sound good. Apart from the choppable gravy, maybe.
‘I could go for a Greggs,’ Lockie says. ‘That’s all I need, to be happy.’
‘Well, while you’re all drinking brown paste, lumpy gravy and sausage rolls, I’d like to be dining on steak tartare and truffle fries with a nice, crisp glass of champagne,’ Camilla says with a dreamy sigh.
‘The only part of that I fancy is the “crisp”,’ Tony jokes.
We all laugh.
‘I’d love some fresh oysters,’ Honey says. ‘With a side of saffron risotto… or, just, like, I don’t know, cheesy chips?’
‘Cheesy chips, now we’re chatting,’ Tony says. ‘Anything but fruit.’
‘Didn’t I see you eat five bananas yesterday?’ Camilla reminds Tony. ‘And you’re whining about not wanting fruit. Who eats five bananas?’
‘Mini bananas,’ Tony insists. ‘And I was hungry.’
‘Well, you can’t be eating five bananas now, when we’re going to have to ration the food,’ Camilla informs him.
‘Look, we can make it all last, and we can top it up,’ Honey reminds us. ‘Like, we’ll take turns, to gather supplies.’
‘Well, I don’t fancy that,’ Camilla snaps.
‘You’ll learn to love it, if you like to eat,’ Tony replies.
Bloody hell, we’re only just starting to talk about food rations and we’re ready to kill each other. Or maybe these guys are always like this.
‘We just need a good system,’ Lockie says finally. ‘Food, water, tasks. No one hoards, no one slacks.’
‘This is getting a bit Lord of the Flies for my liking,’ Camilla replies.
Is it?
‘You know you’re going to have to empty the outhouse at some point,’ Tony reminds her.
‘Erm, I don’t think so, darling,’ she replies.
Ozzy steps in. ‘Look, I’ll take outhouse duties, it doesn’t bother me.’
‘You don’t have to take the worst job every time, you know,’ Honey reminds him.
‘Someone has to do the stuff no one else will, and it doesn’t bother me,’ he replies. ‘I’ll do what I can, to keep us safe, but I need you all to work with me.’
‘You’re so good in a crisis,’ I tell him with a smile. ‘We’re lucky to have you.’
I notice Lockie turn to look at me but I don’t meet his gaze.
‘I’ll… manage morale,’ Camilla suggests.
I can’t even say ‘nice try’ to that. Terrible, terrible try.
‘That’s not a job,’ Tony informs her. ‘And you’re terrible for morale.’
‘I like doing the water,’ Honey says. ‘I can keep on it, doing trips, boiling it – maybe Camilla can help with that.’
‘And we’ll have to do this for how long?’ Camilla asks, not satisfied to be dodging toilet duties.
‘Maybe not that long,’ Honey says softly. ‘Maybe they’re just… delayed. Like, technical problems. Because of the storm.’
‘Well, fuck eating fruit and sleeping on the floor,’ Tony says. ‘If this isn’t being filmed any more then I want off, right now. I’m sleeping in a proper bed and eating something that didn’t come off a tree.’
Ozzy exhales, long and slow, his calm voice cutting through the tension.
‘There are four single beds,’ he says, thinking aloud, ‘so… two doubles if we push them together. We could fit three to a bed if we had to.’
‘Yeah, I’ve made that work before,’ Honey offers up innocently.
Camilla crosses her arms, one hip cocked, clearly beyond irritated now.
‘Well, presumably you guys want to sleep together,’ she says, looking pointedly between me, Lockie and Ozzy. I’m not sure if she means me and Ozzy, me and Lockie or all three of us. No one asks for clarity, her words just hang in the air.
Ozzy clears his throat uncomfortably. Lockie looks at me, telling me to take the lead.
My cheeks flush. I wish I could bury myself in the sand.
I open my mouth to speak but Camilla carries on first.
‘So Honey and I will share,’ Camilla continues.
‘Erm, I’m here too, you know,’ Tony reminds her. ‘Or have you forgotten?’
‘I’m trying to,’ she claps back. ‘I suppose you’re in with us then.’
It really is hard to know who has the short straw. All of us, I think.
‘It’ll be cosy!’ Honey says, trying to stay positive.
‘Claustrophobic is more like it,’ Camilla replies.
I glance toward Lockie and Ozzy – my bedmates for the foreseeable. Lockie’s biting his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. He catches my eye, and for a moment it’s like we’re the only two people on the island – well, the only two in on the joke, maybe.
‘We’ll be okay,’ I tell everyone. In a way, I feel responsible for us all being in this situation, but there’s nothing I could have done.
‘Yeah, everything is calm now,’ Lockie adds. ‘It won’t be much different to yesterday.’
Camilla screams, loud and unbelievably high-pitched. ‘Ugh! What is that?’ she shrieks, pointing at something on the floor next to us.
On the sand just a few feet away from where we’re sitting, there’s a pale starfish, limp and still, half-buried in the sand.
‘Oh, no,’ Honey says, rushing over. ‘Don’t touch it!’
‘Why not?’ Tony asks, squinting. ‘It’s dead. We should just bury it.’
‘I’m not having a funeral for a creature,’ Camilla protests.
‘It might not be dead,’ Honey says, crouching beside it like a tiny marine biologist in a bikini. ‘See, its limbs are curled, but not rigid. And those tiny dots there? Sometimes they just shut down when they’re stressed.’
‘You’re telling me it’s having a panic attack?’ Camilla says in disbelief.
‘Someone definitely is,’ Tony says under his breath.
Honey ignores their bickering. She gently scoops up the starfish in both hands and heads for the sea. ‘If it’s still alive, it needs seawater. Fast.’
We all follow her to the shoreline, weirdly invested in this little starfish, and if it’s going to make it. She kneels down, lowers the starfish into the shallow water, and holds her breath.
For a moment, nothing happens. The waves roll in and out, washing over her hands. Then one of the starfish’s arms (are they arms?) twitches. Then another. Slowly, it starts to move. The little ripples of life running through it give me more hope than I expected.
‘See? It just needed help,’ Honey says brightly. ‘I saw that on TV once.’
‘Thank God you did,’ Ozzy replies. ‘I know how to survive – not how to help other creatures survive.’
‘You’re doing a great job with us,’ I joke, smiling at him.
He laughs. Then Lockie joins in. Then Honey, then Tony – even Camilla cracks her face.
‘Well, that’s one good thing today,’ Lockie says, standing next to me.
His fingers brush mine, just barely. Just enough to make a connection.
‘Yeah, not everything here is dead in the water,’ I reply.
Lockie bumps my shoulder with his, acknowledging my terrible pun. I bump him back, and then our eyes meet.
As silly as it sounds, I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad I’m not doing this alone.
We stand there, all of us, watching the starfish until it disappears beneath the waves. We’re still silent, but it’s not as suffocating now.
I feel daft, getting a lump in my throat over a starfish, but somehow it feels like a sign. Everything could be okay.
I’m just not sure how exactly yet.