Chapter 27
Crash! Bang! Splash!
I fluttered my eyes open, shocked to be alive and uninjured. Chris was swimming towards me in powerful strokes.
‘Babe! Are you okay?’ His voice was filled with worry and care.
He reached my side and started to feel my skull, checking me. Despite the circumstances, I oozed into his hands, my skin delighting at his familiar touch. ‘I’m fine! What happened?’
Chris cupped his hands around my cheeks. ‘Thank god. I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.’
Past his shoulder, I could see Dante’s jet ski, empty and broken, with a massive gaping hole in the side where smoke poured out. A second jet ski floated nearby, its front end mangled. Dante was off in the distance, swimming for shore.
‘You rammed him? But, your ski?’
Other jet skis had arrived, roaring around us in the water, and Chris pulled me protectively to him. Henry appeared, navigating through the floating pieces of debris.
Chris called out, ‘Henry! Over here!’
‘What happened!’ he shouted, pulling up next to us.
‘Dante. Tried to run her over.’ Chris helped lift me, while Henry clasped my hands and pulled me onto the ski. ‘Quick, you guys,’ Chris pointed to the beach. ‘Get to the finish line!’
I didn’t even get a chance to say thank you before Henry hit the throttle and we streaked away towards shore. We easily passed Dante, flailing like a waterlogged poodle a few meters out from the breakers.
The jet ski slid smoothly up the beach. Henry helped me off, my shaky legs barely able to support me as we staggered up the sand. Unenthusiastically, we broke through the winner’s tape at the finish line. Drained and shivering, I dropped to the soft warm sand.
Miles moved forward to congratulate us, but Henry pushed past him. ‘Where’s the producer? You there, I’d like to report an incident, please.’ He pointed to the bedraggled Dante, making his way out of the surf. ‘That man tried to mow down my partner in the water. He’s a menace and he should be charged.’
The producer consulted his iPad. ‘Well, we’ll have to review the footage, and Maxine needs to be informed before we can get outsiders involved—’
‘Oh, sod it,’ said Henry, spinning, walking up to Dante and punching him square in the face.
Dante dropped like a puppet with the strings cut. ‘ Owee! My nose! Somebody, call the politzia! I want that man arrested, pronto!’
Henry ignored him and walked back to me. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m good. Don’t touch me or we’ll get a strike!’ Henry’s hand froze in the air.
‘Of course. Silly me.’ He sounded so very calm for a man who’d just raced a jet ski flat out around an island and punched a guy in the face.
‘You didn’t have to do that, by the way.’ I pointed to Dante, who was mewling like a wounded ferret. ‘He’s not worth any trouble you get in.’
‘But you are.’
I smiled. ‘That was pretty fun to watch though.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
Beaming gratefully at Henry, I realised something: while I would always treasure him as a friend, there were no romantic feelings there. He was my English brother from another mother, and I loved that he’d look out for me and defend me, but neither of us were pretending that there was any pull between us. It was liberating.
The rest of the competitors made it back to the beach, and we all cheered for each other as people crossed the finish line. Chris, Pauline and Dante’s partner, Rafaela, were last. They’d been picked up by the little white boat and ferried back to shore, while the broken jet skis were hauled away.
I ran to meet Chris. ‘Hey.’
His crystal blue eyes were calm under his dark fringe, plastered to his forehead. I restrained the urge to brush it away as he said, ‘Hey, you won?’
‘Thanks to you.’ There was a long pause; so much was unsaid between us, and it wasn’t the right time. ‘I should say sorry to Pauline. She must have been pissed you crashed the jet ski to save me.’
‘Actually, she was the one who saw it happening. She jumped off onto the iceberg and yelled at me to help.’
‘Oh … good.’
‘Tara—’
‘Will our winners please join me on the stage? Henry and Tara! Get up here, you speedsters!’
Groaning at Miles’ poor timing, I shrugged at Chris. ‘Can we talk later?’
He nodded. ‘Call me whenever you’re ready.’
***
I didn’t get the chance. As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, Chris, Henry, Dante and I were all dragged off to have our statements taken separately about the incident that had nearly cost me my life. Strangely, I didn’t feel that traumatised, which is probably a reflection on how dangerous this whole experience has been. A concussion, a cyclone, an almost sexual assault—hell, what’s a measly jet-ski mow-down?
The questioning took hours, but the producers assured me that they would be investigating immediately, and Dante would be speaking with the Fijian authorities in the next few days. Mysteriously, no one seems to have witnessed Henry punching Dante, and it wasn’t caught on camera, so Henry won’t be charged. At least there’s some karma in the universe.
By the time they released me, it was late evening. I ordered mashed potatoes from room service and fell asleep in a carby haze.
***
Transcript of Tara M’s video diary: Day 20
Back on the water today, I felt much more comfortable on the deck of a fancy yacht. Compared to straddling a tiny jet ski, it was as if we were cruising on an aircraft carrier.
‘What do you think, bro?’ yelled Nik over the sound of the rushing air.
Clinging to the rail, I answered, ‘It’s really pretty!’ I was happy to have my last date with Nik; he’s a fun guy, plus I love Kiwis. The distraction was just what I needed. Miles had told Henry and me that we would receive our envelopes tomorrow, the morning of the last full day on the island—just before our last chance to enter the fantasy cabin. The wait was killing me.
Nik leaned his enormous arms on the rail. His eyes twinkled. ‘Did you see anything interesting yet?’
‘Just water. And some seaweed.’ I gazed out to the horizon and something caught my eye. ‘Nik! Did you see that?’
‘What?’
‘That!’ I squealed like a car alarm. ‘There, over there! Did you see it? Nik! Oh my god! Dolphins! ’
A pod of shiny bodies surrounded our boat, leaping and playing in the pressure wave under the bow. I raced to the front of the yacht and leaned out as far as I dared. The happy creatures darted around each other, vying for the best position as they launched into the air.
‘Oooo! I love dolphins!’
Nik laughed at me. ‘You girls, you’re all the same. I’ll tell you a secret, cuz.’
He gestured me closer, and I took the bait. ‘What?’
‘I love them too!’ Nik pointed to the inside of his upper arm, where, among the clustered tattoos of his tribal sleeve, a dolphin lay disguised. ‘I’ve been bringing all my dates out here, ay.’
‘Ha! That’s awesome!’
‘Do you want to go in?’
I’m pretty sure there were dogs back in Australia who flinched when I screamed. ‘ Yes! ’
The captain slowed the yacht, and Nik and I grabbed snorkel masks. ‘Have you ever used tail fins?’ Nik asked, holding up what looked like two flippers melded together.
‘No. Do they work?’
‘It’s like being a mermaid; you kick both legs together and you go further on less energy. The Navy developed them—’
‘You had me at mermaid.’ I snatched a pair up, admiring the blue rubber, childishly glad it matched my blue and silver swimsuit.
The dolphins seemed to vanish as we jumped in the water, but with my ears under the surface, I could hear clicks and pops, indicating they were still nearby. Without the jet skis around, the sea was a much gentler place as Nik and I kicked away from the boat.
I lost track of how long we spent diving under the surface, following the pod around. The younger dolphins were very interested in us, coming close enough to touch before speeding away again. With their wise black eyes and smiling mouths, they seemed to enjoy our company as much as we did theirs.
The dramas of the last few days washed away as Nik and I played with the sea mammals. Honestly, it’s pretty hard to worry about anything when you’re swimming mermaid-style in the warm ocean, surrounded by dolphins. I don’t know if I believe that dolphins can cure the sick, but they certainly left me feeling amazing.
The pod finally moved on. Nik and I swam back to the yacht where we rubbed down with gigantic fluffy towels.
‘That was brilliant, Nik. I can see why you’ve done that on every date.’
We sat at the waiting table, where a Greek-style feast was laid. Nik slathered tzatziki on a pita, saying, ‘Yeah, it’s good, ay! I want to bring my little man back here. He loves whales and stuff; he’d lose his mind if he got to pat a dolphin.’
I popped a salty black olive in my mouth. ‘Tell me about him.’
‘Tane … he’s amazing.’ Nik’s face lit up. ‘He’s starting school next year, but I’m telling you, man, the kid is already so smart …’
We scoffed down our lunch while Nik regaled me with stories about his little sidekick and how he planned to use his winnings to open a foundation promoting Maori cultural awareness back in New Zealand.
When the food was gone, I asked, ‘So, what about Meghan? Have you guys spoken about what’s happening next?’
He leaned back in his chair, muscles rippling under his beautiful dark skin. ‘Nah, bro. Not really.’
‘It must be really hard to not know what’s going to happen with Callum and all that going on.’
‘It doesn’t matter to me.’ Nik laced his fingers behind his head, the picture of contentment.
‘What do you mean? You guys are stuck in this crazy triangle, and I’m pretty sure she loves both of you. Doesn’t that upset you?’ I couldn’t imagine how Nik could feel so relaxed. Unless … ‘Don’t you love her?’
Nik raised an eyebrow in amusement. ‘Man, of course I love her. I’m not upset, because that won’t change anything. It’ll just make things harder for Megs, and that’s the last thing I want, ay.’
‘Oh. So, you’re giving up?’
‘Course not! I’d cut my little toes off for that girl! I just meant, I’m not gonna make her feel bad. But I’m in this for her heart, and I’ll fight until she sends me away, and even then, I’ll still keep trying. When you love someone, you fight for them.’
I felt very small and petty. ‘I thought I loved someone. But I seem to be fighting against him, rather than for him.’
‘Then, maybe,’ said Nik, sounding like an oracle, ‘you need to cross to the other side of the battlefield, ay?’
***
In a fitted black jersey dress, I navigated the stairs up to the bungalow. Chris sat by the entrance, and he jumped up when he saw me.
‘Where’ve you been?’ we both asked simultaneously.
Chris laughed. ‘You first.’
‘I’ve been looking for you all afternoon! I went by your room, here, the beach, the cliff.’
‘I was sitting outside your room, waiting for you.’
I had to giggle. ‘Chris, I need to say—’
‘Contestants!’ boomed Miles. ‘Roll up, roll up! It’s the final ever What You Don’t Know! ’
‘Goddammit, Miles!’ I wished I was a dragon so I could toast him to a cinder with my breath, or snap up his jiggly body in one big bite. Failing that, I could grab Chris in my claws and fly him away to another island where we could finally be together. Although the sex might be a little weird …
Chris sighed. ‘It’s fine. Hey, why don’t you meet me on the beach after this is over? We can go for a walk and chat.’
‘I’d like that.’
Miles was practically wetting himself with excitement. ‘Oh, kiddies! We’ve saved the best until the very last! For those who’ve been keeping count, we have dished secrets on all but one of our competitors. And this one is my personal favourite!’
Because I’d missed a few days in the hospital, I had no idea who had been ‘dished’ and who hadn’t. Who’s left? Jen? Henry? Who?
‘Ladies, I must ask the question … do we think Dante is attractive? I mean, if you can move past the fact that he’s a narcissistic sociopath? How does he rate?’
This is getting weird … Most of us looked to Dante, sitting at the front of the room. With his manicured hair, straight nose and fit body, he was a reasonably good-looking guy. The girls made ‘meh’ noises.
Miles continued. ‘So, you might be interested to know that Dante hasn’t always been such a svelte chunk of Italian sausage.’
Dante rose slowly, shaking with homicidal fury. ‘ Frocio! Do not do this!’
‘Oh, my poor, sweet Dante,’ Miles taunted. ‘I’m afraid I must! Behold! The real Dante!’
A picture appeared on the screen so revolting, people actually spat their drinks out. I thought that only happened in cartoons. Those who weren’t spitting, yelled in disgust.
The shirtless man on the screen was morbidly obese, helping himself to a massive plate of food—while still in bed. His face was like a hideous caricature: buckteeth below a squishy nose. Bushy clumps of hair sprouted from between his voluminous fat folds, each one deep enough to hide a small cat inside. The grainy picture wasn’t very clear, but he appeared to be shiny with sweat and clots of food clung to him in places where food had no right to be. He was absolutely nauseating.
‘Yes, girls, this was Dante only a few years ago! He conned a sweet rich Senorita some fifty years his senior into marrying him. When she died, Dante used her fortune for a full makeover. Teeth, hair, lipo, body sculpting, laser, nose, the whole shebang! The only original parts left on him are his genitals. Oh, wait …’
Oh, surely not. I glanced down to Dante’s groin, where his trademark bulge pressed against his beige pants. He clapped his hands to his junk and looked around nervously.
‘I’m afraid even Dante’s delicates have gone under the knife more times than Joan Rivers! Lengthening, widening, implants. Dante, old boy, I hear the numbness never goes away and full use is almost impossible, is that right? But at least it looks pretty!’
By now, people were laughing. Chase guffawed so hard that he fell from his seat to the floor, while the French girls had tears of hilarity running down their faces. Dante stood like an Italian statue, apparently unable to move.
‘And now, for the last piece of our juicy secret puzzle for the evening. Dante, I’m so very pleased to announce—you are out of the competition!’
The room exploded into cheers. I leaped up and hugged Megs and Clara in a big group cuddle, the three of us dancing around in a circle.
Dante finally retaliated. ‘What? What do you mean, you faccia di culo ? Dante has one strike left! You can’t do this!’
‘Actually, you have zero strikes left.’ Miles smirked. ‘While you were sleeping beside the pool this afternoon, one of our lovely ladies snuck up and touched you on the arm. You are officially disqualified from the million-dollar prize and must pack your bags immediately for departure first thing tomorrow morning. The Fijian police will be waiting for you at the airport, to speak with you about allegations of attempted rape and grievous bodily harm. Plus, I hear the Italian authorities have questions of their own about the fate of your late wife—do I hear the words “life sentence” on the wind?’
‘Lies! Dirty lies!’ Dante was puffed up like an infected thumb. His humiliation was delightful to watch, considering his sadistic nature.
‘Afraid not, old chap. Although, if we ever want to film a reality show in prison, we’ll give you a call.’ Miles waved at Dante with the tips of his fingers. ‘Toodles!’
By now, the noise inside the bungalow was ear shattering. The competitors cheered, Dante screamed like a deposed dictator, even the camera guys whooped and laughed. Clara threw a bread roll at Dante, and others joined in, food flying along with the jeers. I didn’t participate; I was happy the man was getting what he deserved, but taking joy in his misery wasn’t my cup of tea.
Dante fled the room, running away like the coward we all knew him to be, and suddenly, the world was a much nicer place.
***
Once the fuss had died down, Miles opened the bar and celebrations began. Champers flowed, people laughed and chatted. After such an insane few weeks, it was glorious to sit and revel without any cares. I still had tomorrow to worry about the fantasy cabin; for now, I wanted to enjoy myself.
After two very full glasses of bubbly, I was starting to feel lightheaded, my brain floating pleasantly in the alcohol. Flanked by Megs and Clara, we were giggling like naughty girls up the back of Sunday school, while the room span around us.
‘Hey, where’s Chris?’ Clara slurred. ‘That muthafucker should be here! Make him strip for us, Tara! I want to see those abs!’
‘Toshi has abs,’ I laughed. ‘Go make him strip.’
‘Great idea, bitch! Toshi! Get your sweet beehind over here! Mama needs some fucking abs!’ She staggered off, unevenly. Megs and I could barely breathe from laughing so hard.
Then I remembered. ‘Oh, shit, Chris! I’m supposed to meet him on the beach! Oooh … ’ I stood, and the room tilted, throwing me forward onto Megs’ lap. ‘I think there’s something wrong with the floor!’
‘It’s not the sodding floor; you’re drunk, you daft panda!’ She jokingly pushed me away. ‘Go and find your man.’
I weaved around the moving bodies, not so tipsy as to make the mistake of touching anyone I shouldn’t. Using two hands on the rail, I clambered carefully down the stairs, leaving my shoes at the bottom.
The night sand felt cool on the planes of my bare feet as I pattered happily towards the water. The beach lay empty, with the pale moonlight striking the water and flickering in the waves. I wasn’t concerned. Chris always found me.
I waded into the shallows and stared out to sea. As the water swirled around my ankles, I lifted my dress to keep it dry. I swore I saw a dolphin beyond the breakers, but my intoxicated vision made it hard to see. Blinking fiercely, I tried again, but every wave looked like a dolphin. It’s okay. I know they’re out there somewhere, probably busy having sex for fun. I laughed at my own thoughts, happy in the moment, knowing that all was good.
Breathing deeply, I raised my arms over my head and tilted my head back to the sky. I sent up a quick prayer of thanks to whoever was in charge of my luck, because I was feeling fortunate indeed.
Movement from behind me caused me to turn, sloshing in the little waves.
‘Hello, Bella. ’
My blood turned to ice water in my veins. Instantly, I was sober. ‘Dante.’
He looked like death; his eyes were black and vacant, no trace of a human left inside him. ‘I know it was you, little porca. ’
‘What was me?’ I started backing away from him, trying to close the gap between me and the bungalow, hoping against hope that someone might look down and see us. Greg! Where are you when I actually need you?
‘You touched me. You lost me the competition. What will Dante do now? The whole world will be laughing, si? The puttana in the fantasy cabin last night, she broke my cazzo! My manhood is twisted and useless! No money! No fame! And the politzia? They will lock Dante away. So, if Dante loses … so do you!’
He lunged at me, but I was ready, slipping out of his grasp. ‘Come back here, baldracca! ’ He latched onto my stretchy dress, pulling me towards him.
I turned and kicked him in the knee. He doubled over his leg in agony, and I thought he was weeping, until he raised his face in maniacal laughter. ‘You did it on your own! Touching Dante puts you out of the competition!’
‘No, it doesn’t, arse-features,’ I panted. ‘You’re out of the running. I’m only banned from touching competitors!’
His expression changed. Fighting the pain, he said, ‘Then, Dante will have to make you pay another way.’ His hand reached out and latched onto mine in a vice grip, his fingers like talons. With his other hand, he unbuttoned his pants.
I lashed out, swinging hard and catching him full in the face with my nails, gouging trails across his skin. The blood immediately flowed down his face in rivers, giving him an even more demented demeanour as he grinned. He tightened his hold on me as I kicked and clawed at him, the water flying around us.
‘I’m not afraid of you,’ I screamed at him. ‘Your cock doesn’t work properly anyway! And I bet whatever woman broke you yesterday had fun doing it!’
He seemed oblivious to my blows as he said, ‘You’re right. Dante finds it hard to get hard. Sometimes it takes doing something sadico to get the blood pumping, si? ’ He wrapped his hands around my neck and pulled my face close to his, his breath putrid. ‘You’ll be much more compiacente with some water in your lungs.’
With his foot, he swiped my legs out from under me. The water was shockingly cold as Dante thrust me under the surface. Terrified, I opened my eyes in the gritty water and struggled to sit up, but he had me pinned.
With Dante’s fingers crushing my throat, I felt my gag reflex twitch. If I cough, it’s all over. The water would swamp my lungs. With no help on the way, I realised I was about to drown and the only thought in my head was Chris …