Читать книгу Dark of the Moon - Siobhan Curham - Страница 12

I stand, rooted to the spot. What’s going on here? Why is Michael so concerned about Ruby’s reaction? I look at Cruz questioningly. He shakes his head, clearly as bewildered as I am.

Lola turns and gives us a weak smile. ‘I’m so sorry. Things are a little tense between us at the moment. We only just broke up. He isn’t taking it very well.’

‘No kidding,’ Dan mutters, scowling after Michael.

I smile at Lola. ‘It’s okay.’

‘He seemed a little worried about this Ruby . . .’ Cruz says questioningly.

Lola glances up at the bizarre house on stilts. ‘Ruby is very secretive about this place. She doesn’t like people turning up uninvited.’

‘Were you invited here then?’ Cruz immediately asks.

Lola nods. ‘Yes. When we were travelling in Central America we met some friends of Ruby’s and they asked us to come here with them.’ She lowers her voice. ‘Michael wasn’t all that keen. He thought it was a bit risky, coming away with a load of strangers to an island in the middle of nowhere.’ She looks at me and smiles. ‘But that’s why you go travelling, right? To get away from the mundane and embrace the adventure.’

I smile and nod, but inside I literally ache for ‘the mundane’. Since we set off for the cruise I’ve had enough adventure to last me several lifetimes.

‘But don’t worry,’ Lola says quickly. ‘I’m sure Ruby will be fine about you being here. She’s really cool once you get to know her, and once she’s certain she can trust you. Why don’t you go and dump your stuff in there?’ Lola points to one of the cabins. Thankfully it’s not the one Michael stormed into.

I nod. ‘Sure.’

We head over to the cabin, with the Flea carefully guiding Belle. Inside is sparse but clean. One wall is lined with a row of single beds. They’re made from logs and covered in brightly coloured blankets. In the centre of the wooden floor is a coarsely woven, yellow and green mat. It’s the kind of place I could picture Snow White’s dwarves sleeping in.

‘Oh man!’ Dan exclaims, walking over to the nearest bed. ‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ he says to the bed, removing his cap with a flourish. ‘I am Dan Charles and I’ve been dreaming of this moment forever !’ He collapses down on to the bed, wraps himself in the blanket and gives a love-struck sigh.

The Flea laughs. Then he turns to Belle. ‘There are beds, honey, actual beds! Obviously home-made, but full of rustic charm – think Pottery Barn meets Jungle Book .’

Belle nods.

‘What do you guys make of all this?’ I whisper, as I put my bag down in the corner.

‘Well, clearly our friend Michael has a few issues,’ the Flea whispers back, ‘and I can’t say I’m looking forward to meeting Ruby. But Lola is adorable and, compared to the other islanders we’ve met, even Michael seems downright charming.’

‘Well, if this Ruby chick does get all heavy about us being here, we can just ask her to help us leave,’ Dan says, his eyes closed and body spread, starfish-style across the bed.

The Flea nods. ‘Absolutely. I mean, it’s not as if we want to stick around, and if she’s that uptight about keeping this place a secret we can just sign disclaimers and never talk about it again. I don’t care. Quite honestly, after the things we’ve seen, I’ll do anything to get out of here.’

‘Are you guys hungry?’ Lola calls from outside.‘Would you like me to make you some pancakes?’

‘What the hell?’ Dan is off the bed in a second.

The Flea grins manically and even Belle smiles.

‘Did she just say pancakes ?’ Dan whispers, his eyes saucer-wide.

‘I do believe she did,’ the Flea replies.

‘You bet,’ Dan hollers.

‘Okay – coming right up,’ Lola calls back.

‘Do you think we should tell her what happened to us?’ I whisper. ‘You know, about Belle and what happened in the forest?’

Dan shrugs. ‘Dunno.’

‘Maybe we should just play it by ear,’ Cruz says. ‘Figure out what’s going on here first. And see what this Ruby person is like.’

We all nod. Then the others head out. Cruz and I hang back.

‘We need to be careful,’ he whispers, taking my hand.

I nod. It’s exactly what I was thinking. It seems impossible to believe that, after everything we went through on the other side of the island, this side should be completely unaffected by Hortense. And not only unaffected, but some kind of peace-out, hippy retreat. It doesn’t make sense.

‘Do you think – do you think Hortense is still watching us somehow?’

Cruz frowns. ‘I don’t know.’

I force myself to be more positive. ‘But if it is all okay over here, and people are coming and going then . . .’

Cruz smiles at me. ‘I know. Then we will be able to leave too.’ His eyes start to twinkle. ‘And I will have saved your life all over again.’

I frown. ‘Oh really? And how’d you figure that one out?’

‘Well, I brought you to this side of the island.’

I raise my eyebrows.‘That’s funny. I could have sworn it was a gale that brought us here.’

Cruz shakes his head. ‘Yeah well, that was just – what do you say? A minor detail.’

I start to laugh. ‘Hmm.’

He pulls me close and kisses me lightly on the forehead.

I grin up at him. ‘Come on, let’s go get some pancakes.’

When we get outside, the others are gathered in the doorway of another of the cabins. It’s smaller than the one we’ve just been in and, once we get there, I see that it’s obviously the kitchen. The walls are lined with uneven shelves and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open when I see the piles of exotic-looking fruit and vegetables on them. The others are all looking similarly awestruck. Lola takes a clay pot from a cupboard and tips a pale yellow powder from it into a large bowl.

‘Corn flour,’ she says when she sees the Flea staring at it. ‘Ruby has a great farm here. It’s amazing. She grows all kinds of things. Even coffee.’

‘Coffee!’ the Flea exclaims. ‘Oh my, what I would do for a skinny French vanilla latte right now.’

Lola laughs. ‘Well, you might not be able to get one of those, but trust me, Ruby’s coffee is divine.’

‘I wonder if it is as good as the Costa Rican coffee,’ Cruz says.

Lola looks at him. ‘Are you from Costa Rica?’

Cruz nods. ‘Yes. Do you know it?’

Lola grins.‘Of course. It’s where Michael and I were before we came here. We did some voluntary work in San José. It’s a beautiful country.’

‘It’s where you were before here?’ Cruz repeats.

Lola nods. ‘So, how do you guys all know each other?’ she asks, bending down to fetch a cloth-covered jug from under a counter.

‘We go to the same school in LA,’ the Flea says. ‘We’re dance students.’

Lola looks up at him. ‘Really?’

The Flea nods. ‘Yes, apart from Cruz here. He was sailing the boat we were in when the storm hit.’

‘So, you didn’t know each other before?’ Lola looks directly at Cruz and me.

I shake my head, aware that my cheeks are flushing. From the way Cruz has his arm round my shoulders it’s obvious we’re a couple. I had gotten so used to our insular world I hadn’t really thought about what Cruz and I getting together must look like to someone from the outside. But if it bothers Lola she doesn’t show it. She just smiles at me, then reaches under the counter again and brings out a basket of eggs.

‘Holy omelettes!’ the Flea exclaims.

‘Eggs!’ Dan gasps, in the exact same lovesick voice he used to address the bed.

‘You have chooks here?’ I say, as the vision of a golden omelette appears in my head, complete with a jaunty sprig of parsley. I am suddenly so hungry even my fingertips feel like they’re screaming, ‘feed me !’

Lola nods. ‘Yes. Right behind the vegetable garden.’

‘The vegetable garden.’ The Flea repeats her words with such heartfelt emotion it’s like he’s reciting a love poem.

‘I can’t imagine what it must be like to be shipwrecked,’ Lola says, cracking the eggs one by one into the bowl.

I watch her, completely mesmerised.

‘It must have been so scary.’

‘Not nearly as scary as some of the shit that’s happened since,’ Dan mutters.

‘What’s that?’ Lola stops what she’s doing and looks at him.

‘Nothin’.’ Dan quickly looks away.

Lola takes the cloth from the jug and pours what looks suspiciously like milk into the bowl.

‘Excuse me, but is that . . .’ the Flea breaks off, clearly speechless . . . ‘is that milk ? Like, from a cow ?’

‘Yes.’ Lola laughs. Then her face goes deadly serious.‘When was the last time you guys had a proper meal?’

‘About a year ago,’ the Flea says, gazing dreamily at the bowl.‘At least it feels that long. We’ve been living off coconuts, mostly. And the occasional fish.’

‘And cold hot dogs,’ Dan adds.

Lola looks at him. ‘Hot dogs?’

‘Yeah, they were in the boat we found.’

We all frown at him and he looks away, embarrassed.

Lola looks at the Flea. ‘You found a boat?’

‘Yes, the one you saw us in,’ the Flea replies. ‘We just found it randomly one day,’ he adds quickly, sounding about as convincing as a little kid saying it wasn’t him who drew on the wall in crayon.

Lola raises her eyebrows. ‘Wow, that was lucky.’

The Flea nods and looks away. ‘Yeah.’

Lola lifts up spoonfuls of the pancake mix, checking for lumps. My mouth, which has felt as dry as desert sand for most of the morning, starts producing saliva like it’s a magical spring. Lola takes an ancient-looking iron skillet from a hook on the wall and leads us back outside. In the centre of the clearing are the remains of a large fire. Lola puts some dried leaves on top and stokes the flames back into life, then she places the skillet on a frame over the fire and ladles some batter into it. We all sit in a circle and watch, silenced by a mixture of hunger and longing.

‘O.M. effing G! Is that what I think it is?’ the Flea suddenly exclaims. We all follow his gaze off to the side of the clearing. There, in the shade of some huge trees, is a round construction made from large clay bricks. Two wooden poles stand either side of it, with a beam running across the top. A rope hangs down from the beam, disappearing inside the bricks.

‘Is it a – well ?’ I whisper – hardly daring say the word out loud.

Lola nods casually, like having a source of fresh water is the most natural thing in the world.

‘And does it actually – work?’ The Flea gazes at her hopefully.

‘Of course.’ Lola shifts the pan slightly and the batter sizzles.

Dan lets out a whoop and the Flea starts to laugh.

‘I have a feeling this is going to be my best breakfast ever,’ he says, putting his arm around Belle. ‘See, Belle, I told you everything was gonna be okay. There’s even a well – with, you know, water !’

Belle nods but she still looks real tense. I can’t begin to imagine what it must feel like to suddenly go blind. It must be so scary.

‘I’m just going to get some plates,’ Lola says. ‘Can you guys keep an eye on the pancake for me?’

‘Oh don’t worry, I won’t be lookin’ at nothing else,’ Dan says, gazing at the batter as it bubbles gently in the pan.

Lola laughs and heads off to the kitchen.

‘I think it’s okay here,’ the Flea whispers as soon as she’s gone. ‘I really don’t think we’ve got anything to worry about.’

I don’t know if it’s the heavenly smell of the pancake cooking lulling me into a false sense of security, but even I’m starting to agree with him. I look at Cruz to try and figure out what he’s thinking, but he’s looking at the floor, his face expressionless.

‘Do y’all think they’ve got some maple syrup?’ Dan says dreamily.

‘Oh my God, then I really will have died and gone to heaven!’ the Flea exclaims.

Dan rubs his hands together.‘Or how about some chocolate syrup? Or –’

‘What’s going on?’ A woman’s voice echoes around the clearing, deep and stern. From somewhere inside the forest there’s the sound of flapping wings.

We all look around, trying to find the source of the voice.

‘I said, what’s going on?’

I see a slight movement out of the corner of my eye and turn toward it. A woman is standing at an entrance to the clearing. She’s wearing an over-sized, faded T-shirt as a dress, with a wide black-leather belt fastened tightly around the middle. Her Afro hair fans from her head like a dark halo and her brown skin gleams like a coffee bean in the sunlight. Her legs and arms are long and slim and she’s standing bolt upright. She looks like an Amazonian queen. All that’s missing is the spear.

The Flea jumps to his feet. ‘Are you Ruby?’

The woman starts striding toward us. ‘Who the hell wants to know?’ Her accent is American. It sounds southern. As she gets closer I see that she actually isn’t that old – early twenties max. It’s her height and the way she carries herself that make her seem older.

‘We’ve been shipwrecked,’ I say, scrambling to my feet.

Ruby stares at me. Her eyes are pale blue and incredibly piercing against her brown skin.

I instinctively look down at my feet. ‘We were trying to –’

‘Grace!’

My skin erupts in goose bumps and I stare frantically into the dark of the rainforest. Maybe I was hearing things. Maybe it wasn’t her . . .

‘Grace, is that you?’

I watch, my heart pounding, as Jenna stumbles out of the forest behind Ruby.