by Suzanne Cass
She stood up with the rest of the panel members to welcome him into their midst. He managed to raise one of his endearing smiles as he walked over and she clasped him an earnest hug. He smelt bad, but she didn’t let that deter her, patting him on the back as he took his seat just in front of her. Funny, she’d never noticed it when she’d smelt as bad as the rest of them. Nothing that a good long shower wouldn’t fix.
‘Now comes the really interesting part of the night. The whole reason the seven of you are sitting over there tonight,’ said JJ, once Hayden had taken his seat. ‘Now you’ll get to decide who you think is ultimately deserving of the right to dig for the treasure.’
Yes, this was the part Cilla had been waiting for, her chance to get even, to vote for the person she thought should win the million. They were allowed to ask the final three any question they deemed fit in order to help them make up their mind. Nothing was out of bounds.
Cilla didn’t need to ask any questions. There could be no doubt who she’d vote for. If she couldn’t win the million then it had to be Tam. Alisha would vote the same way, of that she was sure.
‘Cho, do you have any questions?’ asked JJ. He smiled as he made the enquiry and Cilla wondered at the slight predatory gleam in his eyes. But of course he’d be relishing this part. To him this was just as much about the real people as it was about the television spectacle. Cilla would do well to remember the same thing. It’d pay not to get too emotionally involved in tonight’s proceedings, this wasn’t reality after all. But how could she not get caught up in the melodrama of it all? Her guts twisted in anger every time she looked at Simon, and her lungs expanded with elation every time Tam cast his gaze over to her. Pursing her lips together, she composed her hands in her lap and sat as still as possible, waiting for Cho to speak.
‘I don’t really want to vote for any of you three sitting up there today,’ said Cho, standing with arms crossed and legs akimbo. ‘But the rules say I have to choose one of you.’ Cho seemed to have chilled out some since his time at Deception. He’d spent a lot of time out there, sometimes completely on his own, waiting for the next person to be voted off the main island. The arrogance she remembered from their first day on the island was gone now, replaced by a calm surety of who he was. Of them all, Cho was the one who’d perhaps benefited most on a personal level from his time out here.
‘Tam, I like you. We spent time out at Deception together, but I’m still not sure you deserve to win the million, bro.’ Tam looked a little dazed at Cho’s statement, perhaps wondering whether he was supposed to give an answer. Cho let him off the hook, when instead of waiting for a reply, he directed his next question towards Simon. ‘You, on the other hand are another matter. After all that self-indulgent bullshit you made me listen to around the campfire, about how many kilos you could bench-press, and how many girls were drooling over you back at the gym at home, the Mustang convertible you drive around town and how much your earn. After all that self-importance I need to know if there’s more inside you than just your ego.’
Wow, that must’ve hit Simon where it hurt. But Cho didn’t stop there. He went on and on in what could only be described as a long rant about how vain Simon was. Everyone’s island experience was going to be different, and Cho was all about purging himself of those pent-up emotions. She tuned out most of the rest of his rant, wondering what she’d say to them when it came to her turn. Would she be brave enough to say what she really felt?
Next up was Jason. He stood up in front of the three remaining contestants.
‘Hi guys.’ He cleared his throat a little nervously. ‘First of all, I want to say congratulations to you all. You made it to the final three. You beat fifteen other people and you deserve to be where you are tonight.’ Trust Jason to start off with a fair-minded and benevolent opening statement, lauding their prowess. ‘You’ve achieved what I couldn’t. And while I admit I’m jealous, I’ll also admit you all played a better game than me.’ Jason stood tall and proud as he delivered his speech and Cilla couldn’t help but notice how good he looked now. When he’d first landed on Ko Mae Ko Island he’d been in not bad physical condition, especially for a man in his early sixties, but four weeks on an island enduring physical hardships and lack of food had actually been kinder to Jason than most. He’d lost that extra layer of padding he’d been carrying and the new beard – neatly trimmed – complemented his handlebar moustache well. Cilla felt a warm glow of solidarity for this man.
‘But I do have a question for Rosa, if I may?’ He cast a quizzical glance towards JJ, who indicated he proceed with a nod of his head. ‘As the last surviving member of team Nightrebels, I’d like to know what skills you showed throughout the game which you think might’ve brought you to where you are now, and also what’ll you do with the money if you win?’
‘Well that sounds like two questions to me, Jason, but answer as best you can, Rosa,’ said JJ. Rosa stood up slowly, looking a little intimidated. Cilla didn’t really care what the pixie woman had to say, her mind was already made up. Would Rosa’s speech sway anyone else to vote for her? Maybe. There were three old Nightrebels team members on the panel, Jason, Hayden and Susan and they might possibly still want to vote along those lines for loyalty alone. Cilla hoped it wasn’t true. Jason might give her his vote, but he’d be the only one. The main fight would be between the two opposing strong personalities, Simon and Tam.
~
Tam clenched the gunwale with both hands. The boat pitched and rolled beneath his feet and his stomach lurched in sympathy. Oh God, he was going to be sick. Again. It felt as if this journey to the mainland would never end, the rough seas adding an extra twenty minutes to the normal half hour trip. Tam kept his eyes glued to the horizon where a flotilla of twinkling lights were slowly emerging out of the dark. The mainland was only a few miles away now.
What a complete reversal from the euphoria he’d felt less than two hours before when the last conclave had come to an end. It was over. Time to leave the island and never return. He’d survived, and triumphed, making it to the final three. True, they had to wait another two months to find out who was the winner, but it was such a relief to finally have this part over and done.
The boat listed savagely to the right and Tam tightened his grip even further. To take his mind off the fact that he was in a tiny wooden boat being tossed about in a very large, very dark ocean, Tam let his memory slide back to relive the painful experience of being questioned by the panel.
Sweat had soaked the back of his shirt and the palms of his hands were so clammy he had to keep wiping them on his shorts. Every time someone stood up to take their place directly in front of him he had to take a deep breath and quell the rising panic beating a tattoo on the inside of his rib cage. This was a lot more nerve-racking than he’d ever imagined. He needed these people to like him, to pick him over the other two. It was like being back at school waiting to see who’d be chosen for the basketball team, only one hundred times worse.
And none of them had shied away from the hard questions either. Jason asked him why he thought he deserved to be sitting there instead of him. Susan asked him point blank if it’d been him who helped vote her out. He’d answered both people truthfully and just hoped to God they believed him. It was like trying to walk through a minefield with a blindfold on. Almost impossible.
Then Cilla stood up and his gut clenched so hard he had to force himself not to double over with the pain. She looked fantastic. With her hair left long to hang in soft chestnut waves over her bare shoulders, she wore an aqua coloured top, which brought out the green in her eyes so they were almost luminescent. He could see she was still the feisty, determined, gorgeous Cilla he’d become so familiar with on the island, but now he could also see a veneer of classiness that made her completely irresistible. Jealousy flared, hot and dangerous in his chest when he watched Hayden take her in a welcoming hug as he’d made his way over to be with the panel. God he’d wanted it to be him holding her right then.
The problem was, he didn’t know if she wanted the same in return.
He could see by the way she was fidgeting with her hands, she was nervous.
‘I don’t actually want to ask anyone a question,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to say something, if that’s okay?’ She glanced at JJ.
‘Of course you can, Cilla. This is a forum where anything goes. Go on, get it off your chest.’ He pointed at the three of them sitting on their stools. Vulnerability flared in her eyes. Just for a second and then it was gone, replaced by the blunt determination Tam knew so well.
‘I want to tell you …’ She hesitated, her eyes linking with Tam’s for uncounted seconds in time. She was trying to convey something, but what? Clearing her throat she started again. ‘I want to tell you all, that I’m incredibly sorry.’ Turning in a slow circle she took everyone in with her green gaze. ‘I’ve learnt a valuable lesson on this island. A hard lesson, but one that will stay with me forever. I’m sorry for not staying true to myself and I’m sorry for the abominable way I’ve treated some of you.’ Tam was stunned to see the shine of tears welling in her eyes. Was this remarkable woman about to break in front of everyone?
‘When I first came to the island, I was consumed by my need to get my hands on that million dollar prize.’ Tam felt the hot gall of guilt rise up in his face, for that’s exactly what all of them had come for. Especially him. That money meant everything to him. Was she putting all of their motivations under the spotlight? Trying to unnerve them by calling them all out on some of the despicable things they’d done to each other. Things they wouldn’t have done under normal circumstances.
No, he could see she wasn’t directing her condemnation at them, her focus was turned inwards, naming her own demons. This wasn’t about anyone else but herself.
‘I’d have done anything to get my hands on that money, and because of that I changed without even knowing it. But something happened to make me realise I was about to turn into someone … do something that’d make me despise myself for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to turn into …’ She stopped again, her bottom lip trembling. The tears started to spill, leaving wet trails down her cheeks. Tam realised he was holding onto the stool with both hands, fingers digging painfully into the wood to stop himself from standing up. From going over to her. From taking her in his arms. But it wasn’t up to him to save her. She was doing that for herself.
With a shake of her head, Cilla dashed the tears away and gave a weak smile. She’d regained control.
‘That’s all I wanted to say really.’ JJ took an involuntary step forward, his gaze fixed on Cilla. Tam recognised the angst in JJ’s face. He was reacting to Cilla’s pain the same way every other red-blooded male on this platform was. The way he was. Tam’s heart battered in his chest, willing him to jump to his feet, to let his fingers trail over her cheek and let her know he understood, he cared.
JJ controlled his reaction quickly and stepped back into his allotted space on the dais.
‘Thank you, Cilla. I’m sure everyone accepts your apology, as unwarranted as it may have been.’ There was much nodding of heads and murmurs of, yes. ‘You may take a seat now.’
Alisha patted Cilla’s knee and took her hand as she sat down, comforting her.
Tam couldn’t take his eyes off her after that. Even when Hayden stood up and asked him a question. He answered robotically, not caring anymore, the thrill of the vote gone now. In baring her soul, Cilla had raised questions about his own conduct. He’d always thought of himself as a man of high moral standards. What personal integrities had he given up to be where he was right now?
Then the panel all cast their vote. But instead of being read out straight away, JJ whisked the chest away, leaving the rest of them on the platform nursing a huge feeling of anti-climax. Tam found himself herded onto a boat straight afterwards, without any chance to talk to the panel. The crew were keeping them separate on purpose it seemed, the three finalists stayed at the front of the boat, while the panel huddled together at the back. He caught a couple of glimpses of Cilla as they boarded, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze, and then once the boat had taken to the ocean, it was too dark to make out her face in the knot of shadowy forms amongst the other panel members.
The notions Cilla brought up consumed him, tumbling around in his head like many rocks plunging down a mountain landslide, even while the boat was pitching and rolling and he was emptying his stomach contents into the sea.
Later that night at the resort, after the best shower he’d ever had in his life, he went to meet up with everyone for drinks and a meal. Tomorrow morning they’d all be flown home, back to their respective lives and families. To try and pretend that everything was normal again, and not give away the fact he’d made it into the final three. How he’d keep that a secret, especially from his mother, he wasn’t sure, but he’d signed a contract and somehow he’d have to stick to it.
Tam took a seat at the end of the large table, next to everyone else already gathered, talking noisily. He scanned their faces, looking for her. Cilla wasn’t at the table yet. Alisha got up from her spot between Marg and Cho and moved to sit next to him, placing a beer on the table in front of him.
As if she could read his mind, she said, ‘Leave her be, Tam.’ Pushing the open beer closer to him, she took a swig of her own, condensation running down the bottle and dripping from her portly fingers. ‘I’m not real sure what’s going on in that girl’s head, but it seems to me she’s mighty mixed up about something.’
‘But I have to talk to her, Alisha.’
She rested her ample bosom on the table top, leant across and took his hand in hers.
‘She doesn’t want to see you, Tam. I can’t put it any plainer than that.’
Pain ignited in his chest, like a knife being slowly twisted around and around. She didn’t want to see him?
She hated him after all.
He got up and left the table, headed back towards his room. He couldn’t stay there any longer. Couldn’t let anyone see him fall apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘Are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do, Grandma?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’ When her grandmother, Barbara, used those clipped tones, Cilla knew it was time to stop arguing.
‘Alright. I’ll organise it first thing tomorrow.’
‘Good girl. Thank you.’ Her grandmother’s frail shoulders sagged a little. ‘I think I might get my first good night’s sleep in a long while, now we’ve finally made a decision.’ Cilla reached for her grandmother’s hand, her fingers knobbly with arthritis and cool to the touch, more fragile somehow than she remembered.
‘I agree with you, Grandma. At least we’re doing something proactive about this, instead of letting the bank take it all. I just hate the fact we even have to consider this option at all.’ Cilla let go of her grandmother’s hand so the old woman wouldn’t feel the wrath quivering through her body. ‘Most of all, I hate him.’
‘Now, now, dear, he’s still your father.’
Cilla let out an exasperated sigh. Why did her grandmother insist on defending that man? Cilla would disown him in an instant. And if he ever dared show his face near her again, God help her, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.
‘I’ll go and talk to Leon down at the real estate office in the morning. He should be able to get us a good price.’
‘Okay, dear. Can you give the soup a stir, and I’ll put the toast on.’ Her grandmother bustled around the small kitchen and Cilla stood next to the stovetop, watching the vegetables swirl in the pan as she stirred.
It’d been three weeks since she’d flown back into Buffalo. Three very long, very tense weeks.
The hardest part had been forcing herself to sit down at her grandmother’s kitchen table and admit she hadn’t won the million dollars. Technically she shouldn’t have revealed that information, but she couldn’t very well not tell her, they needed to do something quickly, before they lost the house. She’d imag
ined there would be copious tears and possibly even hysterics – her grandmother was prone to melodramatic moments – and was ready for just about any kind of reaction. Except the one she got.
‘Oh well, dear, never mind. We’ll think of something, I’m sure.’ Where’d her grandmother’s pragmatism come from all of a sudden? It was a shock, but not completely unwelcome. The bigger shock came when her grandmother started talking about selling her house. At first Cilla wouldn’t hear of it, saying they were going to fight this thing tooth and nail. Her father wasn’t going to win this one.
Eventually her grandmother talked her around. It seemed she’d spent the last two months, while Cilla was marooned on the island, sorting through all their options. She didn’t want to spend years fighting court battles with the bank, never knowing if she might be evicted the very next day, arguing that even if they did eventually win the fight, all their bank accounts would be frozen until then. It would be living a life in limbo.
‘At least we’ll be able to sell the house on our terms, and we may even make a small profit from it,’ she’d said in her bird-like voice. And she was right. If they sold now, before the bank evicted them and flogged the house at the lowest price possible just so they could recoup their losses, then they stood a good chance of coming out with a little money to spare, perhaps to put towards a new house. That’d been the other shock her grandmother had in store for Cilla when she arrived home.
‘I’d like to move to Miami. What do you think?’
Cilla was speechless.
‘Miami?’ she’d finally asked in a small voice.
