52
The beach has always been a soothing place for me.
Tonight, in Western Australia, the weather is warm, the moon is full, and the waves are crashing in even, monotonous sets that would calm even the most harried nerves.
Or they would if I wasn’t on a date with three women.
Thorun, Sona and Evelyn sit on a picnic blanket on the shoreline, safely back from the waves, and sip champagne as the cameras arrayed all around us film every motion, every word.
As the winning team from the Seville contest they’ve earned the right to this group date, but they’d had to wait four days until we flew to our new destination.
Truth be known, all the contestants needed that time to recover before relocating.
Whether from drowning or from the torture they were put through, several had required psychological counselling as well as physical rehabilitation.
The trial, while successful in eliminating many contestants, had taken its toll on the mansion.
Catriona, and two other contestants are still under medical care, but have been flown in nevertheless and are now housed with a specialist medical team in the same sprawling, private glamping accommodation as the rest of the women.
The producers had accepted my suggestion that they would be easier to keep a watch on if they were all under one roof.
This resort, situated on a barren stretch of coast isolated from the rest of the world, is easy to lock down.
I’m sure the reduction in security costs was no small part in their decision-making, although my own security is stationed nearby.
In the lead-up to tonight there was some suggestion that the group date could be conducted around Catriona’s bed.
I’d managed to scuttle that idea as firmly as I’d accidentally scuttled her strategy to win the event without having a target on her back.
At least this way, by not participating in the date, it might take a little heat off her.
Long enough, perhaps, for her to be back and fighting fit.
In the end it was decided that a natural location date would be far better for romantic filmic quality than a bell tent full of medical equipment. Although some of the contestants are clearly not comfortable in a natural environment.
I watch as Evelyn grimaces and, shuddering, flicks a moving shell off the picnic blanket. The hermit crabs scurry in such vast numbers along this stretch of coast that it seems the sand is alive.
Thorun has collected a number of them in a bowl and is studying them intently.
The director holds up a sign now saying I need to speak to each of the women separately. At the end of the date I’m supposed to ask just one of them for a one-on-one follow up.
“Perhaps you’d like to come for a walk, Thorun?”
She smiles in her easy, friendly way, and I hold out a hand to help her up, dropping it as she leans down to take her shoes off.
“Can we walk in the water?”
“If you like.”
I slip my shoes off too and realise it’s exactly what I needed as I follow her down to the water’s edge, where the bioluminescence from the water phosphorescence causes the shoreline to glow as the waves lap the shore.
“It’s magical, isn’t it?” she points to the neon blue water around her ankles. Every beach is different, every day is different. I love the sea. I miss home so much. You couldn’t have picked a better spot for our date.”
“I didn’t pick it,” I shake my head, “every aspect of this game is planned and plotted by others.”
“Oh.”
“Still,” I turn to smile at her, “I’m happy you’re enjoying it.”
“I really am,” she smiles. “The game, though, not so much.”
“You don’t say?” I laugh.
She joins in with me, but we both know this game is no laughing matter.
“I imagine seeing the death of competitors isn’t something you could fully comprehend until now.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I mean, I’ve seen drowned people before. Living on an island all your life in a fishing village, you’re bound to, sooner or later. But people being shot,” she shudders.
“It’s only the beginning,” I sigh, staring out at the waves. “It’s going to get far bloodier from here.”
“Yes,” she shrugs. “But I’m here now. And while it’s terrifying, there are some good things too. There’s company and variety. I’ve never been around such interesting people or travelled to such amazing places. There’s a lot to be thankful for.”
“You were lonely on your island?” I ask quietly as we begin to walk, the sand squeaking beneath our bare feet.
“My gran always says lonely isn’t a place to stay; it’s a place to walk through,” she smiles.
“She sounds like a very smart woman.”
“Yes, although I’m sure she’s blaming herself for putting me in these games, and I hope she doesn’t. I know she did it for the right reason.”
“She’ll be watching this. She’ll know you don’t blame her.”
“It’s only a day’s lag, right? Evelyn said the show is virtually live now; there’s just one day between what’s happened and when it airs.”
“Yes. It’s a quick editing turnaround, apparently.”
“Well then, that’s a good thing.”
“Mmmm,” I nod, “your grandmother won’t have to wait six months to find out if you lived or died. That’s how the Game used to be televised.”
She laughs.
“Well then, hi, Gran,” she waves to the cameras. “I’m still alive, and Valérie tells me that’s remarkable, given I don’t know what’s happening from one moment to the next. You never know, I might win!”
She turns back to me and smiles. “Of course, Gran won’t actually see this for another few months. She’s probably having to get the show recorded by someone on the mainland and sent to her. It’s the only way we watch anything.”
I ignore her hopeful prattle. There’s no hope in Hell this beautiful soul will last beyond the next few days, let alone weeks of this show, as much as I, the viewers back home or the people on her island might like that to be the case.
And there’s no way the director will allow that message to her grandmother to get through editing.
Messages home are not allowed. But what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.
“About Valérie,” I move to change the subject, “I didn’t realise the two of you were friends.”
“Oh, well, we’re getting there,” she smiles. “At first no one would speak to me. No one but Cat, that is.”
“Cat?”
“Catriona, oh, don’t tell her I called her that. She doesn’t like it.”
“Really? Why?”
“Only her friends are allowed to call her that, and she doesn’t have any friends. I mean, ah, she doesn’t think of Sona or I as friends yet.”
“No friends? Mmmm, perhaps she’s exaggerating.”
“Oh, please don’t think I’m a rassgat saying that. I think she’s amazing, and she does have a friend. She has me.”
“I know she does,” I nod. “I watched you save her life, and your loyalty didn’t waver in the torture chamber when she took all four guns. A friend like that is hard to come by. We could all use one.”
“Then you and I will be friends,” she says softly. “If you like.”
She smiles sweetly, and I’m once again reminded of Wolf’s advice that I should try to make these women happy while they’re here. It’s the least I can do.
“I’d like that very much. And if it makes you feel comfortable you can call me Jag.”
“That does make me feel comfortable, thank you.”
I look up at the director’s frantic waving and roll my eyes as he points to a board with a series of questions on it. He wants me to ask the same lines of each contestant ‘for fairness’ and ‘romantic opportunity,’ and I inwardly groan.
“So, tell me, Thorun, what are you looking for in a husband?”
“Love, honesty, integrity. Someone who’ll be my best friend and the best father for our kids.”
“You want children?”
“Heaps of children,” she laughs. “Don’t you?”
She leans down and picks up a shell, considers it, and drops it into her pocket.
“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t want any children.”
“Oh.”
‘But you’d be a wonderful mother. It’s a tragedy you won’t get the chance.’
“Shall we head back?”
She nods, a slight frown on her forehead, and I continue along with the script, just wanting this night to be over as fast as possible, but also wanting to soothe her, have her not worry about anything for the short time she’s still breathing.
“Before we return to the others, will you accept my bite, Thorun?”
Her voice is subdued when she answers.
“Yes.”
Leaning forward I give her a quick nip, somewhat nervously. I haven’t bitten all the women in the house, and I’m slightly paranoid I’ll find more than just Catriona to my taste, especially since she’d confirmed she was just a normal human. Fortunately, there’s no such lure in Thorun’s sweet blood.
After the bite I take her hand and lead her back to the others. She says nothing more on the walk back, seemingly deep in thought. When we reach the picnic blanket Evelyn is already standing, shifting her weight from foot to foot in anticipation.
Without asking, she reaches for my hand and threads her fingers through mine as I turn to walk in the opposite direction to the one I’d walked with Thorun.
Unlike the Icelander, I don’t enjoy my talks with the American.
Her accent makes me maudlin. Prior to coming onto the show the selectors had asked for input on what I was seeking in a wife.
Naturally, given that I don’t want a wife, I’d tried to be more strategic in my requests.
I’d asked for the most exotic women they could find, my thinking being that at least I might have some interesting conversations with unique women during my confinement.
But while they’d given me a mixture of women from around the globe, they’d also thrown in a woman who came from the same state as Angie, and three redheads.
Somehow I don’t think it will go down well if I return to the Dragonspur castle with any of these.
Containing a sigh now, I try to ignore the pang her accent gives me and be present for the American. Her voice aside, there’s no reason I shouldn’t also try to give her a pleasant last few weeks on earth. After all, I’d seen some strength of character in her during the contest.
“How are you?” She asks quietly, leaning into me as we walk and placing her head momentarily against my shoulder.
“I’m well. How are you after the last trial?”
“Great. It was terrifying, obviously, but quite illuminating,” she shrugs as we keep walking.
“Illuminating, how so?”
“I know now who the biggest threat is, who I can ally with, the strengths and weaknesses of many of the competitors. You know, that kind of thing.”
“I see. And who do you see as the biggest threat?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She widens her eyes and pulls me to a standstill. “She shot two competitors in cold blood, and you carried her to the ambulance. We all think Catriona is the biggest threat. She killed her best friend, you know.”
I turn to her and frown, Thorun’s assertion that Catriona had no friends coming immediately to mind.
“And you know this, how?”
“She told us. She said her best friend had something she wanted. She killed her and took it. She’s completely cutthroat and definitely a worry moving forward. I’m not the only one who recognises this.”
“I see.”
As she prattles on I think of Catriona’s words in the hospital; her assertion that everyone makes mistakes, but that honour was something worth striving for. Such wisdom in a young body.
‘Wisdom borne from experience?’
“Of course,” Evelyn continues, “others see her as a threat because you seem partial toward her. But I don’t think so. I’m not bothered you carried her. You would have done that for any one of us, and clearly she’s not right for you.”
“Is that so?” I roll my eyes and keep moving.
“Oh, that’s not even in question. But let’s not talk about her. I want to know about you.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Everything. You and I are the most compatible couple. The more we know about one another, the more evident that will become.”
I sigh and begin the back and forth of listening and replying to her questions as we walk hand-in-hand along the beach and I hear all about her life and the people she loves.
I answer ‘my family’ robotically when asked who the special people are in my life.
But mentally I’m miles away, her accent making me think of only one person.
Someone I’d dishonoured myself with.
Someone I’m not supposed to love, not anymore.