by Suzanne Cass
‘Cilla—’
Then she felt him topple as well.
And they both crashed to the ground.
Somehow Tam managed to swing them around in mid-air so that she landed on top of him. She heard the air whoosh out of his lungs as he hit the ground. Felt the firm planes of his chest break her fall.
The shock of finding herself lying on top of Tam, being cradled by his large body, paralysed her for uncounted seconds. The fact she couldn’t see him only seemed to heighten the terrifying perception of his strong thighs beneath hers, his steely abs supporting her hips.
‘You okay?’ His stubble rasped along the side of her cheek. She could feel his breath warm across her lips and knew his mouth was within reach; if she wanted to take it.
‘Yes, thanks to you.’ Her voice was a hoarse croak. She gave a little cough and tried again. ‘How about you?’
‘My elbow hurts. But otherwise I think we landed on soft sand,’ he replied, practical and coherent, not sounding the least bit affected by their proximity. It was the question in his tone that made her finally come to her senses and start to move.
As she gathered her shaky limbs together, Simon’s voice finally broke through her trance and she realised he was shouting, ‘What are you doing? Get up! Get up!’ His voice was no longer controlled and calm, but had taken on a slight hysterical edge. ‘You have to get moving, the others are ahead of us now.’
It took them many more seconds to get off the ground and untangle themselves, with Simon still shouting instructions. The pole they’d been standing right next to now seemed all of a sudden impossible to find as they both swung their arms around wildly hoping to hit it. Cilla felt a mixture of shame and anger colour her face. How stupid of her to allow them to lose their lead like this.
In the end they managed to make up for lost time and brought in their two bags of puzzle pieces only seconds after the Nightrebels team crossed the line. It took a while to remove their eye patches and the rope tying them together, so when Cilla finally raised her head the spectacle greeting her wasn’t what she was hoping for. Alisha and Cho had puzzle pieces scattered everywhere, trying to build what looked like an ancient version of a map of the world. But none of the pieces seemed to be slotting together.
On the other hand, the oldest man of the other team, Jason, and a small dark-haired lady had their puzzle half-complete. Jason’s fingers were flying, positioning pieces almost as if he’d done this before, his moustache twitching with glee, the small woman pointing or directing if he got confused.
Not one to believe in superstition, Cilla nonetheless hoped that her and Tam’s lapse in concentration hadn’t jinxed the team. It’d be hard not to take the blame if they lost.
Which they did.
Only a minute later, JJ announced, ‘Nightrebels win exemption. Dawnbreakers you’ll be going to the conclave tonight.’
Dejected, they formed into a single file and made their way back along the track to their campsite. The only one who seemed even slightly upbeat was Marg, who gave a secret smile to Alisha and Cilla and inclined her head towards Glen.
~
Tam stumbled, catching his foot on a root in the dark and he swore. They were on their way back to camp from the conclave, after losing yet another knockout. Holding his flickering firebrand further out in front, he tried to get the glow to light his way, without much success. It didn’t really matter, they were almost at the campsite now anyway.
Three nights ago, they’d returned almost jubilant after voting Glen out. Tonight the mood was much more sombre. Poor Cho, he felt sorry for him. At least he’d kept his head high, leaving with a dignified nod to them all as he descended the stairs after the vote.
Tam was unsure if they’d done the wrong thing by voting Cho out tonight. He and Cilla had wanted to vote out Simon. But Alisha was adamant that Simon had found another one of those hidden doubloons and would play it if he caught wind of a plan to oust him.
They’d received another clue to a second doubloon after one of their prize and plunder knockouts. The clue had been just as vague as the first one, and although Tam searched, just like everyone else, he had a feeling he’d been way off. But if Paloma had managed to find the first one, seemingly without too much trouble, then he wouldn’t put it past Simon to have found the second one.
They’d all noticed an immediate change in Simon since Glen had gone three days ago. He’d become a little more likeable, less abrasive. Perhaps starting to understand he wasn’t as invulnerable as he’d thought.
‘Cho was just too smart for his own good,’ Alisha said, as they headed towards to the bubble of orange heat surrounding the fire.
‘Yep, we don’t need to be going up against that kind of smarts when the two teams join,’ Simon agreed. ‘Did you see how quick he finished that number puzzle today? He almost won us the knockout.’
‘Almost.’ Tam sat down between Cilla and Marg on the sand. ‘But not quite.’
‘Yeah, but he was crap at the physical knockouts. We could’ve beaten him easy if it was all up to physical knockouts. Unlike me of course.’ Simon raised his arm and flexed his enormous bicep to make his point. Tam kept his face impassive, but inside he seethed at the man’s sheer vanity and arrogance. ‘Cho was a dead weight when it came to physical knockouts. We were really just pulling him along by the scruff of the neck. Hell, he probably would’ve been more use to us if he’d been in a wheelchair. Would’ve been easier to push at least.’ Simon laughed at his own witticism. No one else did. Tam’s gut clenched at the reference to a wheelchair. Simon was such an ignorant dick. He often said things without thinking.
‘My father’s in a wheelchair.’ Tam said, giving into an urge to make Simon feel bad. But as soon as he said the words he instantly regretted them. His announcement fell into the silence ensuing like a lead weight. No one said anything for seconds that stretched out long and unbroken. Cilla reached out and placed a light hand on his arm. Not conciliatory, merely supportive. Shit. He hadn’t meant to reveal that information; had just kind of blurted it without thinking. He gave an easy smile and a shrug, pretending his words hadn’t really mattered.
‘Goddammit, I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.’ Simon seemed genuinely remorseful, the first time Tam thought he’d ever seen it. At least the man finally realised he was an ignorant dick, for once.
‘I’m sorry too, Tam, that must be hard for you, eh?’ Marg leaned around Cilla and gave him a sympathetic pat on the knee.
He shrugged again. They were all looking at him expectantly. Shit, now what did he say? He guessed he may as well spill the rest of the beans now.
‘Maybe at first it was. But I’m used to it now. Dad was hurt at work. I was about nine at the time. He was lucky though, the doctors said it could’ve been a lot worse. Me and my brothers and my mum, we all pulled together to help him. Now he’s pretty much self-sufficient.’ His sentences came out stilted. He wasn’t used to talking about this.
‘Well at least you still have a father. Mine walked out on me and my mom when I was three and I haven’t seen hide or hair of the bastard since. And I reckon that’s bloody awesome,’ said Marg. Thank God for Marg, breaking through the awkwardness of the moment with her cutting humour, distracting everyone from his own sad tale.
‘Yeah, well I’ve got a father, but to him it’s as if I don’t exist. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him. That’s why I came out here. To show him!’ Simon said. Tam looked at him thoughtfully. A few of the crazy things Simon did now didn’t seem quite so crazy in this new light. He had his own demons to battle.
Alisha and Marg started a conversation about their families and what constituted good parenting. The rest of them joined in, talking about how their fathers – or the lack of them – had affected them. Releasing a quite breath, Tam relaxed. Talk was no longer concentrating on him. And surprisingly he felt he’d come through relatively unscathed. Talking about his father hadn’t been as painful as he’d imagined.
&
nbsp; Tam reached up and scratched at the stubble covering his face, only half-listening to the rest of the conversation. Now he knew why he’d never bothered to grow a beard before. The damn thing itched like crazy. After two and a half weeks on the island, the growth – it couldn’t really be called a beard yet – was starting to soften from the bristling stubble of the early days. It would’ve been nice to have a mirror, to see exactly what effect the facial hair was having on his appearance. Would he look older, more mature? Or just plain scruffy? Probably the latter if any of the other guys were anything to go by. They really were turning into a motley crew of castaways.
Tam’s gaze drifted over to watch a play of emotions flicker across Cilla’s face as she listened to Alisha and Marg’s conversation.
She had a very expressive mouth. It quirked upward when Alisha spoke about the hard work she put into making sure her kids needs were always met. Then her lips pulled down in a semi-pout when Simon rebutted the fact that her kids probably had it too easy. Cilla’s lips. They were becoming very familiar to him. He often found himself watching them with fascination. Luscious and appetising, especially when the tip of her tongue darted out in an unconscious display of irritation. He’d been so close to them the other morning, when she’d landed on top of him during the maze knockout. Even blindfolded he’d known how close they were, within kissing distance if he’d wanted to reach up and take them. The feel of her lithe body lying on top of his for those endless seconds still stayed bright in his memory. Even now he had to quell a surge of heat as he thought of that moment. It’d felt right somehow, and he knew he wanted more. More of her body, more of her mind.
She still managed to confuse him every time she opened her mouth. The tattoo on her arm said it all; Cilla was all about freedom. But freedom from what? Freedom from social pressures? Cilla didn’t strike him as the pot-smoking hippy type. Freedom from personal ties; she did live on a boat and move around a lot. Did that mean she wasn’t into long-term relationships either? She’d no other tattoos on her body, the view of her naked at the beach had proved that once and for all. So this one was evidently special to her. He’d love to solve that riddle. It was obvious she was brave and resourceful, determinedly able to take care of herself. Just the fact she dared to come out to this island indicated how much of a strong woman she knew herself to be. But there was also a fragile vulnerability within, he’d felt it the night they kissed.
Surprisingly, on that night, even though she’d responded to him with intense passion and flaring desire, he’d felt her holding back as well, not allowing herself to fall completely. There was a wall, a very high wall, surrounding Cilla’s heart and soul. This woman didn’t give love easily. That was the chilling beauty of it, her mystery made him want her even more.
He also noticed how she’d conveniently not shared her family story when the rest of them had all been venting. Ah yes, mysterious indeed.
~
Cilla listened as the small group talked about their aberrant families, but she kept her mouth shut tight. There was no way she was going to share her father’s tortuous treachery. She’d tell an abridged version if they forced her to share, but it’d be nowhere near the truth.
As she listened and sympathised with the others, another part of her mind whirled with all the new information. Did it perhaps explain some things about Tam? Like the way he was so doggedly determined to help people – the kids in Disneyland being the most obvious case – as a way of making up for the fact he couldn’t help when it came to his father. She cast a sidelong glance at him as Simon continued to talk about how many different things he’d done to please his father. Tam seemed to be listening like everyone else, intent on Simon’s pain. She could tell how much it’d cost, the agony it gave him to think about his father. It was in the way he clenched his teeth, even through his smile. The way he held his fists, close to his body, tight and tense, and the deep lines forming around his mouth, drawing it down in a grimace.
It did matter to him. A great deal.
An urge to cradle his head between her hands and smooth away those lines, kiss away the pain in his honey eyes took hold of her. She controlled it by wrapping her arms tight around her knees and burying her toes in the sand.
Tearing her gaze away from him, she stared into the flames, letting them sear away the image of his face etched into her mind. Without noticing exactly how it’d happened, she’d allowed his pain to become her pain.
The flames flickered and jumped, reminding her how this game was starting to heat up. Her thoughts turned inwards. The possibility of the two teams joining was becoming stronger every day, as their numbers dwindled. Now, more than ever she’d need a strong alliance to see her through. And she’d need to keep her wits about her. She couldn’t be letting her emotions get the better of her.
The soft contours of her grandmother’s rounded cheeks developed within the dancing flames. Lines surrounded her crumpled lips, which were pursed in an accusing pout. Pale grey eyes stared at her from within that face, silently entreating. The image was so clear it was all Cilla could do to stop herself reaching out to take her grandmother into her arms. An icy hand clutched at Cilla’s heart. Her grandmother would be fraught with fear and anxiety, waiting back at home, hoping for Cilla to perform a miracle. To save her from destitution. Save her from losing the only house she’d ever known. Tears formed in Cilla’s eyes at the thought of her grandmother, of how much she was relying on her.
She had to win.
How could she have allowed herself to forget why she was here so easily? Swayed by an attraction to a man, she’d been diverted for a while. Screwing her eyes shut against the fires bright flames, she shoved the thoughts of Tam deep down into the recesses of her head, letting determination replace them. Determination to win this game. Win at all costs.
CHAPTER NINE
‘Drop you bandanas, everyone, it’s time for your teams to join.’
There were yells and whoops from both teams as JJ started throwing out new bandanas to everyone. The wind was picking up and Cilla nearly missed hers as a fierce gust tried to carry it over her head. But she managed to snatch it out of the air and tied it round her neck to wear as a scarf. She loved the bright grass-green colour of the new bandanas. They heralded a new stage of the game, and she was ready to seize it with both hands. Thank God she’d made it this far. Thank God Tam had made it as well. What? Where’d that thought come from? Before she had time to analyse it, the two teams came together in a tangle of hugs and handshakes and introductions.
‘The name of your new team is Moonrakers,’ JJ said, raising his voice to be heard over the hubbub of learning names and congratulations. No one said the words, but Cilla knew everyone was thinking the same thing. Dawnbreakers had the advantage with five people left in their team to Nightrebels’ four. She shook hands with the pseudo leader of Nightrebels, the one with the impressive handlebar moustache. He was early fiftyish with grey hair and kind eyes.
‘Hello, I’m Jason Paige. Great to meet you.’ Against her better judgement she liked him at once. There was firmness to his handshake, but the laugh lines around his eyes were deep and he bathed her in the warmth of his smile.
‘I’m Cilla Parsons. Great to meet you too.’
Then she found herself gathered up into another stranger’s arms for a bear hug. ‘Hi there, I’m Hayden.’ She laughed at the enthusiasm of this man. He wasn’t big like Jason, only half a head taller than her, but he too had a huge grin on his face and he hugged her with what seemed to be genuine delight. Cilla liked him immediately too. New people were always a danger to the equilibrium, but if first impressions were anything to go on, then this new team would be an interesting change to their last one.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched Tam receive Jason’s handshake, his familiar wide grin spreading over his face as he welcomed the older man to the new team. But below Tam’s genial smile, she could tell he was sizing the Jason up, deciding just how much of a threat he might be.
‘Your new campsite will be in the old Nightrebels area. Their shelter is solid and they have a tarpaulin, which will keep you much drier,’ JJ said. His voice was almost lost in the gusts of wind that were now whipping in off the ocean. A couple of the Dawnbreakers team cheered out loud. Cilla would be the first to admit it’d be no loss to leave their campsite behind.
‘All your belongings have been transferred across, Dawnbreakers. And you’ll also find a surprise waiting for you when you return.’
‘Food?’ squealed a small pixie-like woman Cilla had yet to meet.
‘Yes, Rosa, food.’ JJ had to use one hand to hold onto his hat as a particularly strong gust of wind hit them. ‘There’s a pirate’s feast waiting for you back at camp.’ JJ actually broke a smile at the pixie lady’s antics, as she jumped around with excitement. ‘But you should probably hurry back to camp and make the most of the food while you can. It’s about to get very wet around here.’
‘What do you mean?’ Tam cast a worried frown at JJ. Everyone else stopped talking and also looked in his direction.
‘There’s a big storm on the way.’ Cilla glanced up. There were indeed ominous clouds forming around the horizon, dark grey and puffed with moisture, lots of smaller clouds scudding across the sky below them. The wind was building in intensity, but the sun was still shining. This weather didn’t look too different from anything else they’d experienced so far. After all, it was always raining here, it was the tropics.
