by Maggie Brown
Sand tugged at her toes as she ambled down to the shoreline. She sat down and rested back on her elbows to take in the view. The water was as clear as a mirror, the coral, fish, and little sea creatures plainly visible beneath the surface. A seagull swooped overhead then glided down on the slight breeze to land a few feet away. It pecked a soldier crab out of its hole before it flew off again. The place was so pristine that Sophie could only gaze around in awe. She settled down on her back, for a while enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon sun. She wished Eleanor were here to share this wonderful scenery with her.
With a sigh, she rose to her feet. Sunset wasn’t far off, time to go back.
Sophie plugged the buggy into the electric charger before she walked around to enter her apartment by the back door. After a quick shower, she took time to choose an outfit, finally deciding on her black designer jeans and red silk top. She wanted to look good—she had some pride left.
Eleanor was leaning on the railing out on the terrace when she entered the lounge. She didn’t call out to her, but walked quickly into the kitchen. So intent was Sophie with the meal preparation, she didn’t hear Eleanor approach until she heard her clear her throat. She looked up to see her tilted against the bench with arms crossed, her eyes swirling with emotion. “I was worried about you, Sophie.”
“I had a drink with Lisa and then went for a walk on the beach. I didn’t think you’d care where I was,” Sophie said brusquely.
Eleanor winced, giving a wry smile. “I deserved that. Of course I care.” She moved up to Sophie and stroked her arm. “I behaved badly…I’m sorry. You did nothing wrong and didn’t deserve a cold shoulder from me. I…I can’t explain why I was such an idiot, but it won’t happen again. I hated you left me in anger. Am I forgiven?”
Any animosity Sophie harboured went up in a puff of smoke at the touch of the fingers on her arm. They felt so damn good. “I wasn’t too angry, just a little hurt. I didn’t know what I had done wrong.” Sophie knew she was whining but the constant stroking was affecting her brain. It felt like mush.
When Eleanor dropped her hand, Sophie wanted to place it back on her arm again. “Let’s put it behind us,” said Eleanor. “You look very pretty tonight, by the way.”
“Um…thanks.”
“Now, I’ll get us a glass of wine and you can tell me what you’re going to do with those lobsters.”
Sophie smiled, on familiar ground at last. “Lobster with thermidor butter, new potatoes, and a tossed green salad.”
“Oh, my. That sounds wonderful.”
Sophie beamed at her.
Chapter Eleven
Eleanor heard the doorbell, wondering who would be calling this early. She opened the door to find an athletic woman with short curly hair and a ruddy round face, a covered basket on her arm. “Hello. Can I help you?”
“Hi, Ms. Godwin, I’m Lisa Parsons, the resort’s assistant chef. I’m a friend of Sophie’s. I promised I’d drop these off.” She flipped back the cloth cover with a flourish. “Chocolates and fruit.”
“They look wonderful, Lisa. Come on in. Sophie went out the back to start the pool cleaner. She won’t be long. I was about to have an orange juice. Would you like one?”
“I’d love one thanks.”
“Sit out on the terrace and I’ll bring the jug out. Then you can tell me all about the resort.”
Eleanor sat back as Lisa talked, chipping in a question or a comment occasionally. Two things were plain: Lisa liked to gossip and she knew everything that went on in the place. Staff members were always the best source of information, and an island wasn’t so much different from a movie set. It was a confined community with a hierarchical structure. She had learnt over the years that it was wise if having a long stay, to get to know the people around you. With a little subtle prodding, it wasn’t hard to glean from Lisa the little undercurrents of life on Eurydice. It had its power struggles, but overall, was a very pleasant place, where a guest’s welfare was a priority and staff members were happy.
After some time, she realized that though Lisa was a genuinely nice person, too much of her would become very wearing. Eleanor was interested to see how she interacted with Sophie, because Lisa seemed very fond of her, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Lisa could be gay. It wasn’t obvious, however, so she reserved her judgment.
They were leaning over a map, discussing walking trails, when footsteps clicked across the lounge room floor. Sophie appeared on the terrace with a plate of biscuits, fingers tensed on the china rim. They eased off when Lisa said cheerily, “Hi, Sophie. I was showing Eleanor the best hiking tracks.”
“Good. We want to do a few walks.”
“If you like I can go with you tomorrow. It’s my day off.”
Eleanor winced and flicked a look at Sophie. Her eyes were dilated like a kitten backed into a corner. “I promised Sophie we’d go today,” Eleanor said quickly. “We’ve been cooped up too long. She’s been dying for some exercise.”
“I have?” squeaked Sophie and then continued in a rush. “Yes…yes, of course I have. I love walking.”
Lisa threw an arm around Sophie’s shoulders affectionately. The muscles rippled as she squeezed. “Then we’ll do a long hike around the island and across the top another day. Just you and me—it might be too much for Eleanor.”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Sophie wriggled out from under the arm. “Did you tell Eleanor who’s coming next month?”
Eleanor turned to Lisa, her interest pipped. “Someone important?”
“Austen Farleigh. It’ll be awesome having her here.”
Eleanor froze, her hand dropped to table, clattering the glasses. Oh my God! Austen’s coming here.
A small frown creased Sophie’s forehead as she glanced across at her. “You’ve met her, Eleanor?”
Eleanor pulled herself together with her best poker face. “Yes, on quite a few occasions. She’s very talented. Now if we’re going for that walk, we should start before it gets too hot.” She stood up and smiled at their visitor. “Thank you for your help, Lisa. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again over the coming weeks and I look forward to sampling your menu. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get dressed. Sophie, you might like to show our guest out.”
Back in her room, Eleanor sank onto the bed. Well, that news wasn’t welcome. She would just try to avoid her, but knowing Austen, it would be impossible. With a determined effort, she slipped off the end of the mattress to find something to wear. After she pulled out a long-sleeved lilac shirt and a pair of dark blue three-quarter pants, she slammed the cupboard drawer shut. A low growl grumbled out as she hauled out her favourite joggers and found a hat.
That damn oversexed vixen had better keep her hands off Sophie. If she saw her in the pool, it would be like setting off dynamite.
When Sophie had come out in the bikini, Eleanor had very nearly pulled her in her arms and kissed her there and then. Perspiration blossomed over Eleanor’s top lip at the thought of what Sophie’s reaction might have been. A disaster. Sophie would have been within her rights to slap a lawsuit on her. She shuddered, visualizing the headlines: Lesbian box office star sexually harasses straight housekeeper. And no doubt, a delighted Merilee Watts would smile sardonically as she announced the news on primetime TV.
She arrived downstairs with her emotions under control, keen to get out in the fresh air. A small backpack was propped up against the wall at the front door. Sophie appeared almost immediately, wearing a collared polo shirt and a baggy pair of cargo shorts to her knees. After she wriggled into the straps of the pack, without a word, she handed over a squeeze bottle of sunscreen and a spray can of insect spray. Eleanor slathered on the cream. Her fair skin would burn quickly. Carol would never forgive her if she turned up a nut-brown colour to the launch—Eleanor’s peaches-and-cream complexion was one of her assets. After dousing herself with spray, she handed them back to Sophie who stowed them in her shorts’ pockets.
From the house, t
hey took a trail that wove across the hill for a kilometre until they reached a stony outcrop at the top of the cliff overlooking the eastern end of the bay. With the sun bright in her eyes, Eleanor perched on a rock to gaze out over the water. From this vantage point with the other island behind them, the ocean looked vast and empty. The overwhelming magnitude of the scene left her off-centre. She didn’t have a clue how far away was the mainland, or if they were even pointing in the right direction. Life seemed rather insignificant out here, a little frightening. Everywhere there was colour—more colour—exaggerated colour. City streets, even with their gaudy billboards and flashy lights, couldn’t compete with this awesome display of nature.
Sophie handed her a bottle of water from the pack. “Carry this. You can’t afford to get dehydrated. By the map, this track leads to a small plateau around the other side of this rise, which should be a good place to have lunch. It’s about two kilometres, but all uphill. Will you be able to handle the climb?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go.”
The trail was uneven and rough, and bushes, some thorny, crowded the edges. They were both puffing like billy trains when they eventually reached the flat clearing. A stand of trees behind looked snug and inviting after the tough hike. While Sophie struggled to pull off the knapsack, Eleanor flopped down with a grunt into the cool shade. “Whew. I’m really out of condition. That was a battle.”
“You can say that again,” said Sophie as she settled down beside her. “I’m definitely going to give the hike with Lisa a flick.”
A giggle escaped from Eleanor, now stretched out on the ground. “We’re not the quintessential hikers, are we?”
“Nope. I told you I wasn’t a six-pack lady. Scrabble’s more my thing.” She moved up to rest her back on a rock and patted her lap. “Lay your head here. Then you can tell me about your next movie.”
Eleanor didn’t argue. She wriggled over and nestled her head on her offered lap. “Umm…much more comfortable. My next movie is actually going to be filmed in Australia. That’s why the studio asked me to do the promotions for On the Edge of Life here. Somewhat early as the film is still in the final stages of editing, but they took the opportunity before I came to the island. Normally press interviews are done just before a film’s release.”
“Have you finished them?”
“Yes. Done and dusted, though I’ve agreed to do one more before the event. The red carpet is being held at the Sydney State Theatre, eight days after our holiday ends.” She gave Sophie’s hand a squeeze. “You’ll have to come. I can arrange tickets for you…and…ah…for someone you might like to bring. You can be my guests.”
“I’ll think about it,” Sophie replied with a distinct catch in her voice, “but I probably will have to work. So, go on. Tell me about this next film.”
“You’ll be sorry to hear it’s not a hot and heavy love story, Ms. Romance Writer.” When a snort shot out from Sophie, Eleanor chuckled. “It’s a futuristic thriller. Action-packed, but it does have a good plot. I believe the producers are negotiating to set up the props somewhere in an outback desert area. It hasn’t been decided exactly where yet.”
“Who’s the leading man?”
“Devon Ward.”
“He’s a great actor,” said Sophie.
“Yes, I’ve never done a film with him and I’m looking forward to it.”
Sophie pulled the brim of her hat low over her face. “What about we have a nap. It’s so peaceful it would be a shame to leave too soon.”
Eleanor closed her eyes. The tranquillity was so soothing, she felt herself drift off to sleep.
Fingers brushing her hair were the first thing she became aware of when she woke. She kept her eyes closed as she drank in the sensations around her. The smell of warm earth and leaves mingled with the flowery scent of Sophie’s soap. The screech of some faraway bird, keened faintly on the ocean breeze. She opened her eyes to see Sophie staring into the distance, as her hand slid idly back and forth across Eleanor’s hair.
Eleanor reached up and touched the hand. “I had a little snooze. Thank you for the lap.”
“No probs.” Sophie looked down at her with a smile. “Hungry?”
“Bring it on.” Eleanor moved off and sat up.
Sophie opened the knapsack, took out two brown paper packs and passed one over. They ate in companionable silence, and when the last sandwich was eaten, Sophie rose to her feet. “I guess we better get back.”
“Do we go back the same way?”
Sophie opened the map, and pointed to a line that ran at the same height of the clearing for a distance then veered downwards. “We could go back this way. It’ll come out behind our house.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
“I’ll follow you,” said Sophie.
In the next half an hour, the weather changed. The bright sunlight gradually disappeared as clouds gathered and the wind picked up. The stiff sea breeze brought with it the smell of salt and seaweed, with a touch of wildness that Eleanor found unnerving. By the time they reached the bend in the track, only a glimpse of sun was visible. Shadows of the clouds stretched like black inkblots across the island.
Then it happened. Preoccupied with keeping her feet on the narrow path, Eleanor didn’t realize something was amiss until after it was over. A loud grunt came from behind. “Are you all right?” she called out.
When there was no answer, she chuckled. “Can’t you keep up?”
After still more silence, she swung around to find the trail empty. Her heart rapped hard against her ribs, her breath caught. Sophie had been following minutes ago, now she wasn’t. Panic swam giddily in her head. There was nothing to hide behind on the track, which meant the only place she could be was down. Horrified, Eleanor dropped to her knees, crawled to edge and scanned the hill. There was no sign of Sophie.
She called her name—screamed it out repeatedly. Eventually, a sound came from below, but caught by the blustery wind, it was only very faint. She didn’t even know if it had been human. Perhaps it had been a bird. Dizzy and disoriented, she pulled on all her reserves to stay calm. What could she do? If she went back to the house for a rescue party, by the time they came back it would be dark.
She studied the slope. Could she climb down? It looked doable. The incline was steep, but not impossible to descend if she were careful. Wiry grass, small bushes, and an occasional thin stunted tree covered the area, enough to hold onto. Some way down, the slope levelled off, the trees there thicker and closer. Sophie couldn’t have rolled past them. It wasn’t too far. All Eleanor had to do was get there. She walked back to where she had heard Sophie grunt, then with a deep breath, she forced her limbs to move, clutched the trunk of a small sapling and gingerly backed off the path.
As she inched her way downward, her eyes darted constantly for the next toehold, the next something to grasp. The quickening wind brought misty rain. Suddenly, in a flurry of motion a huge white bird rose up out of a nearby clump of bushes. Her heart leapt into her throat. It was so close she could hear the beat of its wings. Then the bird dipped and vanished over the tops of the trees as quickly as it had appeared. She went on. Her shirt was stuck to her back with sweat and her feet felt like they were on fire. A wave of fear struck as heavier drops began to splatter her face. Water blurred her vision. She shook the trickles away, and clenched her teeth until her head cleared.
Finally a few metres above the line of trees, she heard a sharp hiss. Whatever colour was left in her face, drained away. For one of the few times in her life she was truly frightened. She froze, too petrified to look. If it was snake, she was stuffed—this wasn’t a scene from one of her movies, it was real.
Then a voice floated up from below. “For shit sake, Eleanor, what on earth are you doing? I thought you’d have more sense than to follow me down. I called out I was fine and I was going to climb up.”
Eleanor looked down into Sophie’s frowning face.
She didn’t know if she wanted to kick her, kiss her, or c
ry.
Chapter Twelve
The moment that Sophie turned to look out to sea, her foot met empty space. She began to topple, grunting in alarm when reality struck. She waved her hands frantically for something to grasp, as momentum, irrevocably took her over the edge. It was impossible to stop the downward spiral. She flew out into space, hung there for an awful second, and then, by some miracle, missed a rock by inches, and fell flat on her back on a grassy patch. The backpack took the brunt of the impact. The breath squeezed out of her and speech became impossible. She went into a tumbling slide. Again, the pack was a saviour. As she slipped and slid down the slope, one of the straps caught on a jutting root. Only for an instant, but it was enough to slow her descent.
From there on, she was able to clutch as many things as she could reach to control her fall. Saplings, bushes, vines all helped, and the tough grass cushioned her body. When she finally stopped just short of crashing into a sturdy gum, she was hurting, but in one piece. For a long while, Sophie quietly lay prone on the ground to let the shock settle. Her legs were rubber when she attempted to rise. She rested for a few minutes before she cautiously tried again, only this time she wriggled over to a tree for support. She let out the breath she was holding when she managed to stand.
She examined her weeping cuts, finding the main trauma was an angry gravel rash down her shins and arms. When she touched her stinging jaw, congealed blood came away on her fingertips. Her body ached, but she could move well enough. She exhaled, thankful she was alive to tell the tale. From above, she heard Eleanor calling her name. It was only faint, muffled by the noise of the wind in the trees. She shouted to say she was fine, that she would climb back up.
Then she remembered the first aid kit in the backpack. Her shoulder joints protested as she wriggled out of the straps, although it was worth the effort. Painkillers and a bottle of iodine were in the box, along with Band-Aids and bandages. After swallowing two tablets with the extra water bottle in the pack, she doctored her wounds as best she could. She grimaced as rain began to fall. It would make the climb more difficult. She stashed the first aid kit back into the rucksack and put it on. But when she readied herself for the climb, she looked up and could only hiss in disbelief. Not far above her, Eleanor was dangling from the root of a scraggy tree.
