Chapter 24
Waking up between Ozzy and Lockie is like waking up between two sexy radiators.
Of course, it takes me a second to remember why my face is full of someone’s shoulder blade and why my legs appear to be wrapped around his.
I, walking cringe-fest that I am, have decided in my sleep that I should choose a man to attach myself to and I’ve done just that, I’ve picked a side and I’ve latched on to whoever was there.
For better or worse, it’s Lockie.
He’s in front of me, fast asleep, back pressed against my front like we’ve been together for ten years and sleep like this most nights.
Behind me, Ozzy has done similar, he’s right up behind me, his body pressed against mine, his arm draped over me.
And of course, my arm is over Lockie, resting against his abs.
It’s light but quiet – and thank God. This would look so, so bad if anyone were looking. Not only that, but if either of these two wake up, if they realise the position we’re in… oh God. How do I get myself out of this without waking either of them?
Okay. Okay. I need to not panic, for starters. There must be a way out of this. I just need the two of them to get up before they really realise the compromising position we’re in. Where’s the bloody storm when you need it?
I’ll try to move slowly, see if I can get either of them to stir, to naturally roll over without waking up. I only need one to budge, then I can edge away from the other.
Maybe I can escape one limb at a time, if I just…
Lockie shifts, not fully awake, just a sleepy stretch, and in the process his hand slides down and finds mine.
And now we’re holding hands – I couldn’t be more frozen in place if I tried. There is absolutely no getting out of this one, unless I opt for some kind of 127 Hours-type manoeuvre – cutting off a limb, that is. Nothing else.
A blood-curdling scream rips through the air. Everyone bolts upright at once. We’re all on our feet before we know it, ready to run to the rescue.
Well, that did the trick.
Camilla shrieks again. We all hurry over to see what’s wrong. Honey and Tony are already trying to console her.
‘My lucky crystal!’ Camilla wails. ‘It’s gone.’
Tony squints at her.
‘Are you sure it was all that lucky?’ he asks sleepily, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Because, no offence, but we are all stranded on a deserted island.’
She shoots him a filthy look, but otherwise ignores him.
‘Someone took it while I was sleeping,’ she says. ‘I fell asleep holding it, and it’s gone. Someone must have taken it.’
‘Yeah, that’s definitely what happened,’ Tony says sarcastically. ‘They probably took it to the pawn shop on the other side of the island.’
‘Oh, do get lost,’ she snaps at him. ‘I know one of you has taken it.’
‘Babe, I don’t think anyone has,’ Honey reassures her.
‘Like, I’d say check our pockets, but we don’t have pockets,’ Ozzy adds. ‘But we can help you look for it…’
‘Oh, yeah, right, so whoever took it can pretend to find it?’ she replies.
I did wonder which one of us would crack up first and, yeah, I did think it would be Camilla, to be fair.
‘Okay, well, we’re all up now, so what’s the plan?’ Ozzy asks. ‘I think some of us need off this island ASAP.’
‘Right, what shall we try?’ Lockie says.
‘That building, where the hatch is…’ Ozzy starts.
‘I think it’s the old production building,’ Lockie says. ‘But there’s no one there this year, right? They said they were opening the hatch remotely.’
He knows it is.
‘I say we break in,’ Ozzy says. ‘If everything’s set up to run remote, there’ll be tech in there. Supplies. Tools. Maybe a radio.’
Lockie rubs the back of his neck. ‘I checked it yesterday. Everything’s pretty locked down,’ he replies.
‘We’ll try again, together,’ Ozzy says.
‘Breaking and entering, a plan I understand,’ Tony jokes. ‘I’m in.’
‘Can we, like, get arrested for that?’ Honey asks.
‘If the police can find us, let them,’ Tony says. ‘Then we’ll be saved.’
‘We should eat first,’ Ozzy tells us. ‘Even if it’s just fruit, everyone grab a piece from the basket.’
Tony gets there first – as usual.
‘Oh, mate, that is rank,’ he says, peering in. ‘Cor, it stinks.’
The fruit basket, the one that is supposed to keep our precious food safe, is tipped over, the contents spilled out. It’s covered in sand and bugs, it’s gone squishy under the hot sun. It is, without a doubt, ruined.
Honey claps a hand over her mouth.
‘Oh my God.’
‘Okay, that’s actually vile,’ Camilla says, not keeping eyes on it for more than a few seconds. ‘Someone needs to fix that.’
‘You can’t fix rotting food,’ Tony informs her.
‘But you can replace it,’ she tells him. ‘So chop-chop.’
‘Chop-chop?’ he blurts back to her in disbelief. ‘Chop-chop? I’m not the woman who does your bikini line.’
‘Oh, you’re vile too,’ she replies. ‘I bet the person who does mine has a nicer job than the poor person who does yours.’
Ozzy crouches beside the basket and examines the scene.
‘They’re in everything,’ he says. ‘This belongs to the bugs now. They’ve eaten half of it. Who left it open?’
We all go silent, looking each other up and down.
‘It was fine last night,’ I say slowly, looking around at everyone. ‘Has anyone been to it today? Could the wind have done it?’
‘There’s no way this weather did this,’ Ozzy says. ‘The storm, yeah, but it’s been calm since. Someone messed up.’
‘Well, don’t look at me,’ Tony says.
‘I’m looking at you,’ Camilla tells him. ‘You were probably in there, trying to sneak another five bananas, and you left it open or you knocked it over – or both.’
‘Or you did it, to make me look bad,’ he replies. ‘Let’s not rule that out. You’ve clearly got it in for me. That or you fancy me, that’s why you’re always negging me.’
‘Oh, in your dreams, you horrible little man,’ she snaps back.
That clearly touched a nerve.
‘I took one banana,’ he clarifies. ‘One! Last night. And I closed the basket, without a doubt.’
‘Clearly not properly,’ she claps back.
This isn’t getting us anywhere.
Ozzy huffs as he paces back and forth across the potential crime scene.
‘Enough,’ he snaps. His voice is louder than usual, and you can hear the frustration creeping in.
Well, you don’t mess with Ozzy’s food, it’s what he feeds his muscles.
‘It’s like someone doesn’t want us to succeed,’ he says.
‘Do I think it was intentional? No. Do I think it was one of us who dropped the ball? Yes.’
‘This is what I’m saying,’ Camilla tells him. ‘It wasn’t sabotage, it was stupidity. Probably Tony’s stupidity. Or perhaps…’
She turns to Honey, probably to accuse her, then thinks better of it.
Ozzy kicks at the sand, still simmering.
‘We can’t afford slip-ups like this. The food’s not going to last forever.’
He’s right. We all know it. If we run out we won’t just be annoyed. We’ll be screwed.
My stomach feels heavy, and Lord knows it’s not because it’s full, but because of the situation.
It’s not about the fruit, not on its own, but more about the supply chain generally.
Ozzy’s right. There’s only so much fruit on this island, isn’t there?
I know, it will keep growing, but surely the trees and plants can only produce so much so quickly, and if we plough through it, well, how long does it take to grow back?
How long can we last like that? And the same goes for fishing – the fish can’t be infinite, can they?
My anxious brain is starting to wonder whether or not the fish get wise to the fact they’re actively being fished every day, and all take off together, to find somewhere new to live?
I suddenly feel very aware of how alive our food is, how precious it is too. How we’re all going to need to step up our game, if we’re going to make it last.
‘Okay, look, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is,’ Lockie says.
‘If it’s anyone’s. All that matters is that we don’t let it happen again.
So we come up with better safety measures, or we perform routine checks.
We can replace the fruit, no problem at all, but if we keep bickering and turning on each other, well, we’re just not going to survive.
As a team, we’re strong. On our own, we’re weak. Except maybe Ozzy.’
I love that he adds a little joke to the end of his empowering and motivating speech.
And he’s right about all of it (even Ozzy).
We do need to stick to our plan; we’re strongest as a team.
All we can do is replace the fruit – there’s plenty out there for now – and focus on our plan. Survival first, rescue second.
‘He’s right,’ Ozzy says, exhaling pure stress like he’s trying to expel it from his body. He does actually seem a lot calmer by the end of it.
‘I know it sucks, and that we’re all hungry now,’ Lockie continues. ‘But it’s done. We’ll clean it up, throw away the bad stuff, and replace it. I’m always happy to go off and find food.’
‘And I’m happy to help,’ I add. ‘And we know Ozzy is great at fishing. We’re going to be okay.’
I’m doing my best to join in on the motivational chat, but I think I’m trying to remind myself more than I’m trying to convince anyone else.
It seems like Lockie has done the trick, he’s eased the tension yet again, brought peace to the camp, calmed us all down, given us one shared goal to focus on, and it’s realistic, like getting food for the day, not wild, like hoping the production building has a helicopter outside with the keys in the ignition.
I watch him for a second, the way he smooths things over without making anyone feel small. He’s good in a crisis – and this really, really is a crisis.
‘Let’s just head to the old production building,’ Ozzy says. ‘If the answer to our problems is there, then none of this matters, does it?’
Lockie glances at me but I daren’t look back. It could be that he’s giving me a look about what’s going on, or he could have realised I was spooning him and holding his hand when he woke up. I don’t want to risk it.
‘Okay, let’s all go,’ I suggest. ‘Let’s stick together.’
‘Did you sleep okay?’ Lockie asks me as we set off.
‘I’ve had better,’ I tell him plainly.
And now… time to try breaking into a building that I know for a fact is super secure. This ought to be fun.