‘Don’t we all,’ agreed Evita, sitting up to sip from a glass of water.
Doris’s eyes slipped hungrily to her breasts which were softly enclosed in a pink satin nightgown. ‘You are as beautiful as ever,’ she murmured.
‘Please, Doris. What do you want? Why are you here?’ Evita’s low voice was pained.
‘I had to see you. I waited a year. I told Lew that you had invited me. I knew he was too busy to accompany me. I have thought about you… about us… so many times.’
Evita sighed. ‘Doris… what happened… It was a slip on my part. I like you, I really do. But you must understand, I love my husband, it could never happen again. Please – would you go now. I’m really too distraught to discuss anything.’
‘I know. It was selfish of me to come today. But I want to comfort you. You’ll allow me that small pleasure, won’t you?’
‘No one can comfort me. Not until I know where my daughter is.’ Tears streamed down her face. ‘This not knowing is a terrible thing…’
‘They’ll find her,’ Doris assured. ‘You’ll see, she’ll be all right. Have faith, Evita. I promise you she will be all right. I feel these things, I am very intuitive.’
‘Are you?’ Evita questioned hopefully, ‘are you really?’
‘Yes,’ replied Doris soothingly, ‘you wait, you’ll see. Trust in me. Now why don’t you try and sleep, I can come back later.’
Evita closed her eyes obediently. ‘I’ll try.’
* * *
Saturday night there was no further news. Linda had watched the Melanie King interview on television and she was disgusted and despondent. What kind of a woman went on television and gave an interview at a time like this? Why hadn’t the bitch flown back to London to be with her children? How could she be away from them at a time like this?
‘I think I’ll go home tonight,’ she told Cody. ‘I feel like being alone.’
He understood. ‘If I hear anything I’ll come over.’
‘Sure.’ She nodded. It wasn’t that she felt any differently about Paul… Or was it? The fact that he might be dead. The fact that she might never see him again… even if she wanted to. It was too awful… And Dallas, Bernie, Al…
She just wanted to be alone.
The not knowing was the worst.
The uncertainty.
‘We’ll know something tomorrow,’ Cody assured her.
‘Yes?’ she answered listlessly.
‘Yes,’ he replied positively, although he was as unsure as she was.
It was going to be a long hard night, and one he was glad that he would spend alone.
He wanted to think about Dallas.
He wanted to pray for her.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Dallas was the first to wake. She ached all over, and her neck hurt from sleeping in a sitting position. She glanced at Al. He was stretched out, mouth slightly open, snoring softly. She didn’t want to disturb him, he had worked so hard the previous day.
It must be very early, the sun was only just beginning to rise, and it was still chilly. At least it was daylight; the nights were so dark it was impossible to see anything.
She had woken in the middle of the night and heard noises – frightening rustles and growls. Instinctively she had know that there was some kind of wild animal circling around what was left of the plane. She had waited in horror, wondering if it would attempt to climb up, but eventually it had padded away.
She had not been able to sleep properly since then.
Oh God! What she would give for a simple cup of coffee… A piece of toast… A lump of dry bread – anything!
Quietly she left her seat, padding down the aisle to check out if anyone was awake.
Evan was asleep. They would have to do something about him today – it was wrong just leaving him alone, he would have to join in, become part of the group. After all, he wasn’t hurt, he could be useful.
In the bedroom compartment Bernie lay on his back, his eyes wide open. The towels wrapped around him were stiff with dried blood. Flies buzzed everywhere. Cathy and Paul slept.
‘How are you feeling?’ Dallas whispered to Bernie.
The day before he had been incoherent.
‘What the fuck we still doin’ here?’ he croaked.
‘I guess we’re waiting to be rescued,’ she replied.
He coughed, and she was dismayed to see a trickle of blood dribble from his mouth.
‘How long we been here?’
‘Today’s Sunday, we crashed Friday night.’
‘Jeeze… I don’t remember a thing.’
* * *
Al was having a beautiful dream. He was playing backgammon with the Shah of Persia, and he was winning. ‘Hey – Shah,’ he was saying, ‘I won her – you may have more bread but I won her.’
Dallas shook him back to reality. ‘Al – wake up. There are a couple of cupboards in the bedroom I can’t open. What’s in them? Any food?’
He opened his eyes wondering where he was. Then he remembered. ‘Food? I don’t know… which cupboards?’
She took his hand, ‘Come and see.’
* * *
Evan sneaked a bar of chocolate out of his shirt pocket. It was his last one. He wolfed it down ravenously. Now all he had left was a couple of packs of chewing gum. If his mother didn’t come soon, she would be too late…
* * *
Cathy woke up and affirmed the fact that the two locked cupboards were used to store supplies. She looked worse than anyone, with her poor battered face, missing teeth and crushed leg. But she refused to give in, she was cheerful and bright, and kept on saying, ‘Chin up, everyone, they’ll be here for us soon.’
Al smashed the two cupboards in, and they came upon a bonanza. One cupboard contained stocks of Kleenex, toilet tissue, paper towels, soap, cleaning materials, fresh towels and sheets. There were also three plastic containers of hand cream, an atomizer of perfume, and the best discovery of all – a first-aid box.
The second cupboard revealed an even more exciting array of goods. Three jars of instant coffee. Two boxes of tea bags. Four boxes of lump sugar. Three giant cans of orange juice. Six packets of crisps. Four tins of mixed nuts. Two packets of water biscuits. Six tins of the best caviar. Twelve small bottles of Perrier Water. Six large bottles of champagne. A packet of paper napkins. A packet of toothpicks. A glass jar of maraschino cherries. A corkscrew, bottle and tin opener. And finally three cans of anchovies.
‘We just hit pay dirt!’ Al exclaimed triumphantly. ‘We can last forever on this little lot!’
‘Not quite ever,’ Dallas warned. ‘I think we should ration it carefully.’
‘The hell with that. I’m starving.’ He was already opening up the biscuits, stuffing them in his mouth.
‘Al!’ reminded Dallas sharply. ‘Share them out.’
‘Don’t get panicky – there’s plenty here. Everyone help themselves.’
‘Look,’ interrupted Dallas angrily, ‘we don’t know how long we’re going to be here…’
‘She’s right,’ Paul joined in.
Reluctantly Al put the biscuits down. ‘So what the fuck do you want to do?’
‘We should just make it last,’ Dallas said coldly. She picked up the packet of biscuits and handed one out to everyone.
Al returned his with a sheepish grin. ‘I already had two.’
She smiled at him. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re right,’ he replied. ‘I’m not going to argue when I know you’re right. We could sit here for fucking ever waiting for them to come and get us. I think I’ll take a little trip – see what I can find. Maybe I’ll come across the rest of the plane. You feel well enough to come with me, Paul?’
His brother nodded.
* * *
Cristina’s own tears woke her. She had been crying in her sleep, and the tears were stinging the cuts on her face.
It was already hot. A humid stifling heat which filtered down through the tall trees.
N
ino lay across her lap. He looked a very funny colour, a sort of greyish white. She tried to rouse him, but he muttered angrily and refused to wake.
They were both covered in flies and mosquitoes. The horrible aggravating things wouldn’t go away. They buzzed and dived, inflicting nasty little bites on any exposed piece of skin. At least her legs were covered, but her arms were bitten all over.
She wanted to get up. She knew she must get up. But her strength seemed to have deserted her, and she wasn’t sure if she was capable of moving.
If she stayed where she was they would both die.
That thought stung her into action, and she stumbled to her feet, letting Nino’s head rest on the ground.
‘I’ll come back soon,’ she whispered, but he wasn’t listening. He was rolling around groaning.
She noticed that he still had his shoes on, running shoes with thick rubber soles. She was the one that had to do the walking, her feet were in such an awful state, surely he wouldn’t mind…
She struggled to get the shoes off him and put them on herself. They were big and sloppy, but they were better than nothing.
Exhausted before she had begun, she set off to try and find the plane.
* * *
Al and Paul were ready to leave.
‘You’ve got to be careful,’ Dallas warned. ‘This is the jungle, there are a million and one dangers.’
‘My lady – an expert on jungles!’ Al laughed.
‘I’m not an expert – but the only thing I learned as a kid was about animals. The big ones will leave you alone if they’ve eaten. It’s the smaller ones you must look out for. Poisonous insects, ants, scorpions, snakes. And whatever you do – don’t eat anything – no berries, plants, even flowers.’
‘You know something – eating flowers just ain’t my scene – and after that feast I had for breakfast – two water biscuits and some orange juice – how could I possibly think about food!’
She put her arms around him and kissed him. ‘Love you,’ she whispered. ‘Please be careful.’
‘We will.’
She watched them set off. They had two bottles of Perrier water with them, some saccharin, and Luke’s gun. They had found the gun in his jacket before burying him near the plane. They had also found a packet of chewing gum, and a hip flask of whisky. It had all been added to their supplies.
God, it was hot! How she longed for a bath, her clothes were sweat-stained and sticky. She wanted to rip them off and walk around naked, but the risk of exposing skin to the hungry mosquitoes was just not worth it. She remained resolutely covered as much as she could, and so far the only bites she had experienced were on her hands.
She had changed the towels around Bernie’s wound. It did not look good at all, but he certainly seemed in better shape than the previous day. Cathy, however, was deteriorating. Her leg was an ugly open wound, and even to Dallas’s inexperienced eye it seemed to be gangrenous.
There was nothing she could do for either of them, except be near when they needed her.
The first-aid box had helped. She had dabbed everyone’s cuts and bruises with antiseptic cream and wrapped all the open wounds in gauze bandages to keep the flies off.
She wished that she could have gone with Al, but he had insisted she stay on the plane. ‘You and I are the only two with our heads together – we can’t desert them, they’ll think we’re never coming back. Paul’s likely to fall to pieces any minute.’
He was right. Paul was making a supreme effort, but anyone could see he was on the edge of hysteria.
She could not get over Al. Spoiled superstar. Supreme user. He was a tower of strength, combining just the right amount of jokey cynicism with a strong conviction that rescue was just around the corner. He alone was keeping everyone’s spirits buoyant.
She had gone to him in Las Vegas for a night of sex. They hadn’t even had that, but she knew that he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
She laughed bitterly. Perhaps she would. Perhaps the rest of her life would only be a matter of weeks… days…
Just as a feeling of despondency swept over her she heard a noise in the distance. A noise that was unmistakable.
She ran to the front of the plane, and there, as clear as possible, zooming like a bird high above the giant trees, was an airplane.
Frantically she waved and shouted.
‘We’re here! Down here! Can’t you see us? We’re HERE!’
Her yelling was in vain. The airplane zoomed smoothly past, a tiny dot in the sky that vanished into the distance as suddenly as it had appeared.
* * *
Al and Paul heard the plane as they trekked their way through the jungle. Paul started to yell, but Al stopped him. ‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘You think they’re going to hear us? Save your breath.’
‘How will they find us then?’ Paul demanded, his voice rising hysterically.
That was a good question. Al was damned if he knew. ‘They will,’ he replied airily. ‘Don’t forget it’s me they’re looking for.’
‘You!’ spat Paul. ‘If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be here.’
‘You wouldn’t be anywhere.’
Paul stopped abruptly. ‘I’ve had that shit!’ he screamed. ‘Had it up to here. You – you – you. FUCK YOU. Where would you be without me? I dragged you up to where you are today. I grafted the contracts, negotiated more money, pleaded with them to use you at first. All you were interested in was getting pissed and laid – in that order. Without me you’d be singing shit in bar-rooms for the price of a pint. I have devoted my life to you – and I want some respect. I’m not some ass-kissin’ fan. I’m your manager, your agent, your brother, for Chrissakes.’
‘What the fuck are you getting hysterical about? Calm down,’ Al interrupted, startled at his brother’s sudden outburst.
‘Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down, I’ve stood in the background and let you shit on me all your life. It’s over, Al, it’s over. You even screwed my wife – you banged Melanie. Didn’t you? Didn’t you?’
For the first time in his life Al was ashamed. He had never realized that Paul harboured such resentment. And what he said was true. It was a fact that at the beginning Paul had stage-managed his success.
‘Yes,’ Al replied defensively, ‘I laid Melanie. She wanted it. She was after me until the day she left you. It wasn’t my fault, Paul, you’ve got to believe me on that score…’
‘You fucking bastard. I should kill you… You hear me? Kill you…’
‘Look – if you think I was the only other man in her life, you’re wrong. It happened once – and don’t think I haven’t sweated over it. I hated myself for it.’
‘My brother!’ Paul spat. ‘My dear brother.’
‘I know it’s a little late to say I’m sorry but I am. I was sorry the moment it happened.’
‘Have you any idea what it’s been like having you for a brother? At parties I’m dragged around like exhibit A – I don’t have a name – I’m the great Al King’s brother. That’s enough for me to be accepted. Not as myself – as your fucking brother.’
‘That’s not my fault. I didn’t know…’
‘Of course not. When have you ever given a shit about anyone else’s feelings? What you want – when you want. A fuck. A meal. A massage. Call Paul – any time of the day or night –he’ll arrange it.’
‘Jesus, Paul – I never—’ He stopped talking abruptly.
Staggering towards them was a semi-hysterical, ragged girl.
‘Help me!’ she cried out. ‘Oh God! Please, please help me.’
* * *
A plane would never spot them. How could it? It would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. And even if by some miracle they were seen – what then? A plane would never be able to land here, not even a helicopter. The trees took care of that. Majestic giant trees – some maybe as high as two hundred feet.
It occurred to Dallas that if they were to get out it would have to b
e by their own efforts – and that was impossible. They had no idea where they were. No idea how far from any settlement or community. They had no compass, map, suitable clothes, or adequate supplies. To survive in the jungle was difficult enough – even with the right equipment. But without… It was probably impossible.
Besides which, Cathy and Bernie were in no shape to travel, and they couldn’t leave them.
But if they just stayed put…
How long would their meagre supplies keep them going? A week… Two weeks… Who knew?
Al didn’t understand. He seemed to think they would be rescued. How could they be rescued when nobody knew where they were?
Angrily she swatted a mosquito away, and made her way back down the plane.
Evan still huddled in his seat. She sat down beside him. He stunk, his clothes stained with vomit, sweat and urine. The flies were having a field day around him.
‘Hi,’ she said softly. ‘Feeling OK?’
He ignored her, staring off into space.
‘Listen,’ she said gently, ‘we have to get you out of those clothes. One thing we’ve got plenty of is clothes – a whole closet full. Come on, let’s sort something out.’
He still didn’t say anything.
‘Did you see the plane?’ she asked brightly. ‘They’ll be coming for us soon. You don’t want them to see you like that, do you?’
‘Is Nellie coming?’ he mumbled.
A response at last! ‘Sure she is.’ Dallas took his arm. ‘Come on, Evan, I’ll help you choose something.’
He stood up and something fell off his lap. It was a portable radio. Dallas pounced on it. ‘Does it work?’
‘Don’t know.’
She switched it on and was rewarded with a blurred crackle. Desperately she twiddled the tuner. Faintly she was able to receive a music station. What a find! She switched it off. Save the batteries. Maybe later, when Al returned, they would be able to tune into a news programme and find out if anyone was actually looking for them.
* * *
Greedily Cristina swallowed the contents of one bottle of Perrier water and munched on the saccharin tablets they gave her.
‘Christ!’ Al kept on exclaiming, ‘I don’t know how you’re still alive, it’s a bloody miracle.’
Lovers and Gamblers Page 64
