One Endless Summer

by Laurie Ellingham

  Tears filled her eyes but she didn’t respond. How could she?

  His face softened. ‘I know you’re sick. Not even the best Hollywood actress could fake a seizure, or blindness. So what is it? You can tell me.’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she whispered, staring at the images on the camera screen.

  ‘Try me,’ he said. ‘I can help you.’

  ‘You want to know what I’m scared of? Fine, I’ll tell you,’ she said, her voice rising as an anger began to circle her body. ‘I’m scared of dying, OK? There. Happy now. If it seems like I’m hiding something, then it’s because I am. I’m trying to hide the fear, from myself and from Jaddi and Samantha, from everyone.’ She pointed at the camera.

  Ben stared at her for a moment longer, assessing her, trying to decide if she was lying. She bit her lip and tried to look defiant. A second later she tasted the metallic tang of blood followed by a sharp sting. Whether he liked it or not, what she’d told him was the truth.

  ‘I’m not buying it,’ Ben said, snapping the camera screen shut and placing his camera into his bag. ‘There’s something else going on here. I knew something wasn’t right within ten minutes of meeting you three, and whether you realise it or not, the cracks are widening. The truth always comes out, Lizzie. So do yourself a favour and tell me what’s going on so I can help you.’

  Lizzie turned her face to Ben. His forehead was creased with concern, or frustration, or both, Lizzie thought, but his eyes were clear and bore into her with an intensity that made her gasp. The pull returned. The tugging sensation of being drawn forward. But it was more this time. She felt her mouth open, her breath draw in, words forming in her head, lining up, one after the other, ready to flow out into the world, and come what may.

  Then a light flashed on the television screen above his head. Lizzie’s eyes flicked upwards and the words she’d been ready to speak melted away. ‘Is that Harrison on TV?’ Lizzie leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. It was Harrison. A Gold Coast Hospital sign was visible in the background as he nodded along to a reporter. She could see it all. She could see.

  ‘Yep,’ Ben said, accentuating the final letter as he shook his head and packed his camera into its case.

  Lizzie frowned. How did a news reporter know she was here? Could a nurse have tipped them off? She wasn’t so famous that a hospital worker would call in her whereabouts, was she? And why was Harrison talking to them? She wished he’d asked her first, or at least come and seen her.

  ‘He’s been here the whole time,’ Ben said. ‘He’s been so concerned about you that he hasn’t moved from that spot outside the hospital where some reporters, and by the looks of it, a local news crew, have gathered. Love is sweet, ain’t it?’

  Ben glanced at the TV one more time before striding from the room.

  Lizzie stared after him, wishing she could call him back and explain. But what could she say? Lizzie sighed and inspected her hands again. She just wanted to get out of here.

  CHAPTER 35

  Day 41

  Lizzie

  Lizzie stretched out her legs, causing her bed to sway back and forth, and wondered again what had possessed them to spend the night in hammocks. She gripped the rope edges and steadied herself. The website blurb had made it sound so appealing: Drift off to sleep in the tranquillity of the Green Mountains. Star gaze from the comfort of your very own luxury hammock and wake up to the soft melodies of the dawn chorus.

  Chorus? More like a hundred screeching bird calls reverberating through the trees and perforating the otherwise still morning. One yawp-like wail after another, after another. Each more piercing than the last.

  Lizzie stared at her watch. It was nearly 5am. Two minutes before their alarms would sound, although she doubted they would hear them over the bird noises.

  She yawned, drawing in a deep lungful of cool air. She pulled in another long breath, filling her senses with the clear, sweet freshness of the forest and the scent of musky earth. The hit of oxygen caused her head to spin but did nothing to dent the fog of tiredness.

  Lizzie swung her legs over the edge of the hammock, dropped to the forest floor and yawned again. The past three days on the Gold Coast should have been peaceful, but the combination of restlessness, and the resulting frustration, as well as Jaddi, Samantha, and Harrison’s changed behaviour, had added an enervating quality to the week. They’d tiptoed and cosseted, asking the same questions in soft voices: Was she OK? Yes. How was her vision? Perfect. Did she need anything? Yes – for everyone to stop acting as if she was about to collapse to the floor at any moment!

  She glanced at the other four hammocks, spread around their camp in a wide circle. Only one other was empty – Ben’s. It took Lizzie a moment to register the hump of sleeping bag on the floor beneath it. Why hadn’t she thought of that? The ground would have been hard and cold, but at least it didn’t move.

  Ben had kept his distance since his accusations in the hospital room. They hadn’t spoken. Not a single word. He seemed content to linger at the back of the room and hide behind the scope of his camera, and she’d found herself missing their friendship.

  He’d caught her at a weak moment. She’d been grateful for his help and shaken from losing her sight. She’d wanted desperately to explain to him that she knew he meant well. His promise to help was touching, but in the end what could he do?

  Being able to see again had been the only bearable part of the past three days. She’d discovered an appreciation for the reflection of the sun glistening on the ocean, and had spent hours on the balcony of the apartment watching the sea.

  In those days on the Gold Coast, the only distraction had been her phone. She’d scrolled through the thousands of well-wishing comments on their Facebook page, and browsed the internet, reading the headlines: Lizzie in Love; Is it Love for Lizzie?; The Girl with Three Months to Live loses sight.

  It was impossible to comprehend the media attention surrounding their journey. In Thailand it had been easy to ignore. Facing the photographers at Sydney Airport had changed that. And the more stories, the more Facebook comments, the more interest in her life, in her journey, the more jittery she felt.

  She could no longer hide from it. The world was watching. The thought had unleashed an electrical current into her body, pulsing through her veins and forcing her heart into overdrive.

  Then Dr Moss had started calling, leaving Lizzie no choice but to switch off her phone. It was stupid of her to think that discharging herself from hospital would be the end of it, but it hadn’t crossed Lizzie’s mind that Dr Moss would call her, let alone leave half a dozen voicemail messages that she had no intention of listening too.

  A movement from one of the hammocks caught Lizzie’s gaze.

  ‘Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to do this?’ Samantha asked, sitting up in her hammock.

  Lizzie sighed. ‘Good morning to you too.’

  ‘Sorry. I know I sound like a broken record, but I just want to be sure.’ She swung out of the hammock in much the same way Lizzie had, and landed unsteadily on her feet. Jaddi repeated the action a moment later and galumphed towards them in her unlaced walking shoes.

  ‘I’m absolutely, one hundred per cent, totally sure,’ Lizzie said. ‘We’ve been sitting in the apartment doing nothing for days. My sight is fine, I’m fine,’ she said, fighting to keep the frustration out of her voice; Samantha was only trying to help.

  Jaddi yawned, rubbing her palm across the back of her neck. ‘I thought hammocks were supposed to be comfortable, but I spent the entire night lying with my head to one side, too scared to move in case I fell out.’

  ‘There you go,’ Samantha continued. ‘Jaddi’s exhausted. Yet another reason why we shouldn’t embark on a three-day hike through a remote rainforest. Why don’t we do a day walk instead, and spend the night in one of the chalets at the retreat? They have hot tubs,’ Samantha said, finishing her sentence in a sing-song voice as if talking to a child.

  Lizzie sighed again
and looked to Jaddi. ‘Do you want to tell her, or shall I?’

  ‘Go ahead.’ Jaddi smiled.

  Lizzie turned back to Samantha. ‘We are here for an authentic experience in the wilderness. Not some gentle stroll around the campsite.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s three full days of walking, plus camping out. We’ll be miles from anywhere. If anything should go—’

  ‘It won’t. Please, Samantha, I want to do this. A day walk won’t take us nearly far enough. I want to see the ancient volcano and the areas of rainforest untouched by humans.’

  ‘Fine. I give up.’ Samantha threw her hands in the air, but smiled as she spoke. ‘Just promise me if you start to feel—’

  ‘I’ll say something,’ Lizzie cut in, grabbing Samantha’s arm. ‘Now, come on, I’m starving and I smell bacon. Let’s leave the boys and get some breakfast from the resort.’

  As Jaddi laced up her shoes, Lizzie glanced at Harrison. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully in the hammock, oblivious to the noise of the forest. A dull ache spread across her chest. The last time they’d spent time alone together had been on the beach in Coolangatta, the night before she’d lost her sight. She had so many questions she wanted to ask him, like why he’d stood on the hospital steps talking to a reporter instead of coming to see her? Was he still upset about their night on the beach? So much had happened since then. And where had he been disappearing to whilst she’d been cooped up in the apartment?

  Doubt niggled at her thoughts. Harrison wasn’t solely to blame. She hadn’t tried very hard to initiate a meaningful conversation or broach the questions on the tip of her tongue. Asking the questions was simple enough; it was the answers Lizzie wasn’t ready for.

  CHAPTER 36

  Lizzie

  Thirty minutes later, they returned to camp and packed up their belongings. The, bacon, eggs and fresh orange had revived them, it seemed. An eagerness hung in the air.

  Harrison and Ben followed a few minutes behind them and reached their camp just as a wide burly man in beige shorts and a matching shirt marched towards them.

  ‘Which one of you lads is the chap I spoke to on the phone?’ he said, flicking his gaze between Harrison and Ben.

  ‘That would be me, sir.’ Ben stepped forward and held out his hand to the man. ‘Ben Holmes.’

  The man’s arm muscles bulged out of his shirt sleeves like sausages trying to escape their skin as he shook Ben’s hand. His face reminded Lizzie of a cinder block, large and square, with tuffs of thick white hair protruding from underneath a wide-brimmed bush hat.

  ‘Good to meet you in person, Ben.’ He stepped back and surveyed the four of them before turning back to Ben. ‘Ready to get started?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Ben nodded and hoisted his camera onto his shoulder. He stepped away from them and signalled a thumbs up to the man, who nodded and turned to face them.

  ‘My name is Al Tuckerman, of Al’s Rainforest Treks. Welcome to the start of what many believe is the most picturesque part of Australia. In about ten minutes’ time, we’ll begin day one of the Gold Coast Hinterland Great Walk.’ Al removed a faded map, laminated in plastic and splattered with dried mud, from his back pocket as he spoke. ‘Today we’ll be walking from the Green Mountains, here –’ he stabbed his index finger on the map ‘– to Binna Bura, here.’ He moved his finger along a wiggly yellow line. ‘Today is the longest distance of all three days. Twenty-one point four kilometres, most of which is up hill, so keep your layers close to hand. This is a subtropical rainforest. With changing altitudes we’ll see a changing rainforest, but also a big drop in temperature.

  ‘There’ll be a lot of wildlife to look at as we go along, which I’ll be pointing out. Platypus, bandicoots, wallabies, pademelon, pygmy possums and a whole lot of birds. Lamington National Park, which is the area we’re in right now, is also host to many endangered species of frogs. Look at where you put your feet and if you see a frog, don’t pick it up.

  ‘We’ll be walking at a steady pace with regular breaks. In the twenty years I’ve been a bushwalking guide I’ve always got my group to the campsite before dark, and I intend to keep it that way. Understand?’

  They nodded as his eyes scrutinised each of them in turn. Lizzie sensed a movement behind her and looked up to find Harrison grinning down at her. He dropped an arm around her shoulder, causing warmth and excitement to fizz out from his touch.

  ‘Good. Now, as part of Al’s Rainforest Treks, all of the camping equipment is provided. This means that when you reach the campsite there will be safari-style tents set up for you, and your food will be cooked by me. We’ll be eating traditional bush tucker for the first two nights and at the end of the great walk, you’ll be invited to take a dip in Warringa Pool, as well as have a traditional barbeque and hog roast. Any questions so far?’

  Lizzie shook her head.

  ‘What about going to the toilet?’ Jaddi asked.

  ‘There are toilets at the campsites. If you need to go for a crap at any other time, then you take this shovel, and this bag from me,’ he said, lifting up a small rusty shovel attached to a dark-green canvas bag, and find a spot behind a tree. Any more questions?’

  No one spoke.

  ‘Time to partner up, so listen closely, because this is the single most important part of trekking in this rainforest. Your partner is your responsibility,’ Al said, slowing his voice so that each word had a pause before the next. ‘I’ll say it again – your partner is your responsibility. You look out for them, and they look out for you. If your partner stops, you stop. Never leave your partner.

  ‘Ben, you’ll partner with me; that way I can be your eyes when you’re filming. Pretty boy,’ he said, pointing at Harrison, ‘step away from your girlfriend and move over to pretty girl number two over there. You two are partners.’

  ‘But—’ Lizzie started.

  ‘No buts. I’ve been trekking this forest for twenty years and I can tell you right now that nearly all of the accidents that happen, happen to couples. They start bickering or acting all lovey-dovey and stop looking where they’re going. So your boy is with this pretty lady here, and you two –’ he pointed to Samantha and Lizzie ‘– can be partners.’

  Disappointment weighed down on Lizzie. She’d been looking forward to walking arm in arm with Harrison through the rainforest, and shaking the loneliness of the past week. It was the same feeling of isolation she’d felt during her treatments. Never alone, but distanced from those around her by their well-meaning concerns.

  ‘Now, you’re all dressed pretty much OK.’ His eyes fell to Harrison’s trainers. He raised his eyebrows. ‘With the exception of pretty boy’s plimsolls, that is. Does everyone have a hat?’

  Lizzie nodded along with the rest of the group.

  ‘Your hat will protect you from the sun and the rain, as well as bird droppings. So keep it on your head. Each pair gets one of these packs.’ He held up a small red bag. ‘It’s got clips to attach to your rucksack or your belt. Keep it safe and keep it accessible. Inside, you’ll find a basic first-aid kit, a topographical map of the route, a compass, and most importantly for this time of year – leach repellent. Slap it on now, and at every rest stop, or those suckers will be on you in a heartbeat. That just about covers everything. Before we go, does anyone have any alcohol with them? Anyone got a hip flask stashed away?’

  No one spoke up.

  ‘Good. Because there is no alcohol on Al’s Rainforest Treks. I don’t deal with drunks and I don’t stop for hangovers.’

  ‘Anyone have any illnesses they need to tell me about?’

  Lizzie felt all eyes, along with Ben’s camera lens, bore into her, but she kept her head down and her mouth closed.

  ‘Good. Then let’s get moving. We’ve got seven hours of walking to get through today, and it gets dark early in the forest.’

  CHAPTER 37

  Jaddi

  ‘Wow,’ Samantha said.

  Lizzie stepped up beside Samantha. ‘Very wow.’

  �
��Breathtaking, isn’t it?’ Al said.

  ‘Just a bit.’ Jaddi grinned, moving next to Sam with the giddiness of feeling utterly awestruck. From the viewing platform in front of them her eyes absorbed the endless undulating hills, tree-covered cliffs, and the rich green of the rainforest for as far as they could see.

  It was a relief to stop. The small of her back had started to ache with the uphill climb on the narrow footpath, although the pain was easier to ignore than Harrison’s incessant moaning. First, it was his hair, becoming messy under the bush hat; then it was his denim shorts, chaffing the inside of his thighs. Finally, and for the last few hours since they’d crossed the shallow creek, it was his wet trainers, rubbing on the heels of his feet.

  The forest had transformed with every kilometre they’d trekked. Tarzan-like swinging vines, as thick as rope, hung from the canopies overhead and looped over the treetops. Large birds with flashes of cobalt-blue and yellow perched on branches, their black shining eyes watching them from above.

  The trees grew taller, wider and more elaborate the further into the rainforest they travelled. During a brief rain shower, they’d eaten their lunch in the cavern of a hollowed-out tree. Despite the gaping hole, the tree above was full of crisp green leaves, and was very much alive.

  ‘We’re making good time,’ Al said, checking his watch as Ben stepped around them, spinning in a slow circle to capture first their expressions, followed by a panoramic view of the rainforest stretching before them. ‘There’s just over three kilometres to go, so have some water, and let’s get moving.’

  Harrison groaned and pulled off his hat, before raking his fingers through his hair and sweeping his fringe to one side.

  Jaddi considered saying something peppy – We’re almost there, you can do it – but she stopped herself. Anything she said would be met with more huffing and griping. Silence seemed the better option as they fell into a steady walk behind the others, and quickly began to lag.

  Besides, Jaddi had her own problems to worry about, and they far outweighed Harrison’s blisters. Just as she’d hoped, their journey so far had brought the three of them closer. Especially to Samantha. Samantha had spent the last couple of years working long hours and had spent most of her weekends with David. The days of the three of them lounging on the sofa, watching the Corrie omnibus were long gone. But with their renewed closeness came a sickening pressure to release the secrets she’d been keeping. All of them. The pressure was exhausting. She woke up every morning more tired than she’d felt the night before. How much longer could she carry on feeling like this before one or all of the secrets slipped out? Jaddi didn’t know the answer, and that only added to her angst.