Candle in the Wind

by Sally Wentworth

  'Come on, Sam. Get up!' He pulled her to her knees and shook her.

  'No. Leave me alone,' she mumbled, and tried to lie down again.

  'Just a bit more effort, sweetheart, then you can rest again. But first we have to find water.'

  'Water?'

  The word brought^ her more awake and she managed to stay standing up when he got her on her feet.

  'Yes, we have to go and find it.' Mike put his arm round her and half dragged her along the beach as he looked for a river or stream flowing into the sea.

  The beach was long and white with palm trees growing almost to the water's edge in some places. Exotic seashells lay littered on the sand and here and there a crab would scuttle to its hole as they passed. Mike looked hopefully round for signs of habitation, but there was no trace of any huts, no boats drawn up on the beach, nothing to say whether the island was inhabited. The beach went on endlessly and they had gone for nearly half a mile with no trace of fresh water and Sam sagged against Mike, what little strength she had completely exhausted.

  'So tired… must rest,' she croaked, and almost fell asleep leaning against him.

  'No, you've got to keep going. I can't bring the water to you, you've got to walk.' He shook her hard, but she hardly opened her eyes and started to c ink to her knees as soon as he let go. Propping her up with one shoulder, Mike raised his hand and hit her across the face, twice, with all his strength. It wasn't hard, he was too weak to really hurt her, but it made Sam jerk awake and stare at him out of large, puzzled eyes.

  'Now, come on. If you fall down you'll die, do you hear me, you'll die 1' He tried to shout at her, to make his voice harsh, but it came out as only a hoarse whisper. But there was a fierce anger in his eyes, and this and his words got through to her. Somehow she pulled herself upright and turned to go on up the beach, concentrating on her feet and willing them to move forward and take another step and then another, until she was moving like a zombie, her mind empty of anything but the effort she was making.

  She never knew how far they walked, it seemed like a hundred miles but might have been only a few hundred yards before Mike put a hand on her arm and stopped her. He said something, but Sam didn't hear. With the impetus to keep moving suddenly taken from her, she dropped to the sand like a stone and she was unconscious even before she hit the ground.

  The next thing she remembered was having something wet put between her lips and precious drops of water trickling slowly into her throat. This happened regularly until at last she could swallow again and then she was given a proper drink. She opened her eyes and saw Mike bending over her, and above their heads the shady leaves of a casuarina tree sheltered them from the sun's glare. She gave him a weak smile and he grinned back at her before lying down beside her and pillowing her head on his shoulder and going to sleep.

  When next Sam woke she was able to sit up and look around her. They were in a large clearing in the woodland where rays of sunlight shafted down between the trees and made dappled patterns on the ground. She could hear the musical tinkle of water over stone, and when she looked to her left she saw a wide stream that flowed quite fast through the clearing. Mike was still fast asleep beside her and she gently eased herself up so as not to wake him. She drank long and deep of the cool, clean water, fresh as any mountain stream, and then splashed some over herself. Her skin felt so dry and she could still feel the salt from the sea on it and in her hair. She glanced hesitantly at Mike; he was still in a deep sleep, but supposing he woke? For a moment longer she hesitated, then started to walk along beside the stream, further inland. Past the clearing the vegetation closed in again and among the trees there grew exotic flowers, wild hibiscus, oleander and ginger lilies, and almost smothering the trees were vines of morning glory and purple bougainvillaea. Humming birds, their wings vibrating so fast that they became invisible, flitted through the trees and hovered by the fragrant blossoms. Sam stood quite still and watched them for a little while, fascinated, until she realised with a little shock that she knew the names of the flowers and the birds. Was her memory coming back, or was it just another of those strange twists of her brain which let her remember general things but nothing about herself?

  The noise of the stream got louder as she went further on and presently she came to a pool where a waterfall jutted out from a rock face about ten feet high. Quickly she slipped out of her clothes and washed them as best she could in the pool, then spread them out to dry in a patch of sunlight. She stepped into the pool, it wasn't deep, only up to her knees, and waded towards the waterfall. The water struck very cold and made her gasp at first, but then she lifted her face towards it and gave herself up to the pure bliss of having it pour over her, just revelling in the deliciously invigorating feel of it against her dry, parched skin. After a while she began to wash herself, wishing she had some soap and a shampoo for her hair, but at least she felt clean again. Wading out of the pool, she stood in a shaft of sunlight to dry off, using her fingers as combs to get the tangles out of her hair. The sun was so hot that she was soon dry and bent to feel her clothes. Her pants were nylon and were quite dry, but the sun-top was still a little damp and her jeans were so thick that they would take quite a while. Bending down, Sam stepped into her pants and then whirled round as she heard a noise behind her.

  Mike had come to find her. He pushed aside a branch of a frangipani tree and came towards her. Instinctively Sam's hands flew up to cover her bare breasts. His eyes ran over her and his mouth twisted a little, but then he looked at the waterfall.

  'That looks good. Think I'll join you.'

  He bent to take off his shoes and Sam turned to put on her top, even though it was still damp, carefully keeping her back towards him. She pretended to examine her jeans again and presently she heard him splashing through the pool. Sitting down on the grass, she lifted up her hair to let the sun dry it, but then gave a little smite as she heard Mike begin to whistle behind her. Nothing seemed to get him down, he had an immense fortitude and will-power; if it hadn't been for him… Sam shivered as she recalled the danger they had been in. She owed her life to him several times over and she would always be grateful, but she still didn't feel completely at ease with him even though they had been living in such intimate closeness for several days. She heard him come out of the water and begin to dress and she hastily pulled on her jeans.

  'Mm, that's better. How do you feel, Sam?' His voice had lost its hoarseness and was firm and strong again.

  Hesitantly she turned round to find him putting on his shoes. He had on his denims but his chest was bare. His days on the boat had deepened his tan and he was very brown. It suited him, he was the outdoor type.

  'I'm fine, thanks to you.'

  He straightened up and crossed to her. 'You certainly look a whole lot better. More like the girl I married,' he added deliberately.

  Sam flushed and moved away, but he came up behind her and put his hands on her bare waist.

  His mouth was very close to her ear as he said, 'Sam, don't be shy. You don't have to cover yourself in front of me.'

  'I—I know, but I can't help it.' She bit her lip and turned her head away.

  'Sweetheart.' His lips were burning hot against her skin as he bent to kiss her shoulder and then his hands came up to cup her breasts.

  She jerked away from him and turned like an animal at bay.

  Mike's eyes darkened for a moment and then he gave a rueful shake of his head. 'Sorry, Sam.' He held out his hand. 'Let's go and see if we can find something to eat, shall we?'

  After a moment she put her hand in his and he led her back along the stream towards the sea. They found food in plenty: small plantains that were sweeter than cultivated bananas, figs, breadfruit and potatoes. They sat on the beach in the dying rays of the sun and ate their first meal in days. It tasted wonderful, but Sam soon found that she'd had enough because her stomach had shrunk and she couldn't manage more than two Or three pieces of fruit and part of a raw potato.

  'Don't worry,
' Mike told her. 'You'll soon be back to normal and eating like a horse again.'

  Sam was indignant. 'I don't eat like a horse.'

  He grinned. 'Sure you do. I reckon it's going to take every penny I've got just to feed you.'

  She smiled at his teasing, but then asked, 'What do you do, Mike? For a living, I mean?'

  for a brief second his eyes glanced at her and then he looked away. 'What's the matter, afraid I won't be able to keep you in food? Don't worry, Sam, I'll provide.' He stood up and pulled her to her feet. 'Come on, we'd better find somewhere to spend the night where we won't be bothered by crabs.'

  They found a hollow in the clearing by the stream and Mike used a broken coconut husk to deepen it and give them shelter from the night breeze. When it was ready he gave her no time for hesitation but drew her decisively down beside him and pulled the banana leaves he had cut over them before fitting her body into his and wrapping his arms round her. Sam tried to tell herself that it was just the same as on the dinghy, but there was a new tenseness between them that made her hold herself stiffly away from him until she fell asleep at last.

  In the morning they breakfasted on coconut milk and wild bananas and then Mike suggested they walk back to where they had come ashore the previous day to see if they could find the boat. It had seemed a very long way before, but it took them only ten minutes to retrace their footsteps through the sand. Of the dinghy they found only a few broken planks, but the blanket had been washed up by the tide and they saw the water container; bobbing about in the sea a short distance away. They piled the planks together and then Mike put his hands on his hips and looked around him.

  'No signs of life. Could be we're on an uninhabited island.'

  Sam looked at him in some alarm. 'You mean we could be stranded here?'

  He spoke reassuringly. 'For a short while, perhaps. But there's bound to be a boat within sight sooner or later.' He indicated a piece of higher ground visible above the trees. 'As soon as I can I'll climb up there and get a better look.'

  Picking up some of the planks of wood he walked back towards the stream and Sam followed with the blanket and container. They were still so weak that even this small effort tired them and they were glad enough to sit down in the shade and rest.

  They spent the rest of the day quietly, lying in the shade, eating and sleeping as they felt like it, but towards evening Mike caught a crab and tied the flesh to the end of a stripped piece of vine to use as bait when he waded into the lagoon to try and catch a fish. He came back triumphantly and then scooped a hole in the sand to use as an oven, making a fire by patiently rubbing two stones together and setting light to some dry coconut fibre. He gutted the fish and stuffed them with bananas before wrapping them in leaves and putting them in the makeshift oven.

  Sam watched in fascination. 'Will you have to rub two stones together like that, every time we want to cook something?'

  'No, the oven will stay tot for a couple of days and we'll be able to get a flame from it.'

  'You seem to know so much about it that I'd almost believe you'd been shipwrecked before,' Sam remarked.

  He merely replied, 'I was a boy scout,' and Sam felt vaguely disappointed; he told her so little about himself.

  She decided to hp more direct, after all she had the right to know about him if she was his wife.

  'How old are you, Mike?'

  'So you're feeling well enough to ask questions again, are you? I'm thirty-five—and you're twenty-two.'

  'How long have we known each other?'

  He was concentrating on putting some breadfruit into the sand oven. 'Nearly three months.'

  'Only three months? Is that all?'

  He glanced at her briefly. 'It was long enough."

  Sam digested this for a minute and then asked, 'How did we meet?'

  She thought she saw him hesitate, but then he said, 'We bumped into each other in Bridgetown one day.'

  'Bridgetown?'

  He sat back and looked at her. 'You don't remember that? It's the capital of Barbados.'

  She shook her head. 'How strange. I know the names of flowers and birds, but I don't remember the name of a town. Did we both live there—in Bridgetown?'

  Again he seemed to hesitate slightly. 'No, you lived further north and I lived on the boat.'

  Sam gave a little sigh; it was obvious that he wasn't going to volunteer any information and she would just have to draw each item out of him.

  'Did we intend to live in Bridgetown after we got back from—from our honeymoon?'

  This time he answered immediately. 'No, we were going to just sail around the world until we found somewhere we liked and settle there for a while, then move on again.'

  He busied himself with the oven again then and Sam was left to puzzle over the few scraps of information she had gained. So it seemed they had no settled home, that v both of them were without any ties and were free to wander as they chose. But surely Mike must earn a living somehow? Then she remembered that she'd asked him that already and he had evaded an answer. It was all very puzzling and left a nagging seed of doubt and worry in her mind.

  Mike broke into her thoughts. 'Dinner is served. How would madam like it, on a leaf or in a coconut shell?'

  He was smiling at her, his eyes warm, and all doubts were pushed aside as she grinned back and responded in kind. 'In a coconut shell, of course. We'll use the leaves as napkins.'

  Mike had used his penknife to shape pieces of driftwood into forks and they used these and shared the knife. The hot food tasted out of this world and made them both feel almost back to normal again. Afterwards Mike lay back and put his hands behind his head.

  'Tomorrow I'll have a go at climbing that peak to find out how big this island is.'

  'Can I come with you?'

  He gave a ghost of a smile. 'Sure, if you feel up to it.'

  'I feel fine, especially after that lovely meal.' She hesitated. 'Why did you smile when I asked you if I could go with you?'

  'Did I? I suppose it's because you seem to have changed quite a lot since you got that bump on the head. Before you wouldn't have asked, you'd just have said, I'm coming with you.'

  'Oh.' Sam didn't quite know how to take that. 'Do you—do you mind that I've changed?'

  He looked at her consideringly, head on one side, while Sam waited in some trepidation, then he gave a slow, crooked grin. 'I guess I could learn to live with it. Come to think of it, I might even grow to like it.' He glanced up at the sky, the deep red and mauve of sunset. 'The sun will go down shortly. We'd better get back to the clearing before it gets dark.'

  He banked more sand round the oven to retain the heat and they followed the now familiar path alongside the stream, reaching the clearing just as darkness fell.

  'Might as well get some sleep; it could be a hard climb tomorrow.'

  They lay down in the hollow again and Mike pulled the leaves over them, but he didn't draw her back against him as he had the night before, instead he laid her on her back and turned her face towards him. Then he bent to kiss her. His lips were warm and gentle, for the moment undemanding, but even so Sam immedi ately became tense and fearful. He must have felt it, but he went on kissing her for a little longer before he drew back and said quietly, 'Goodnight, Sam.'

  Early the next morning they filled the container with water from the stream and set off to climb the hill before the day got too hot. They soon lost sight of the peak as the trees became denser, but Mike strode sure- footedly on, seeming to know by instinct which direction to take. The going was difficult because they had to climb over fallen tree trunks and push their way through the thick undergrowth, added to which they Still hadn't completely recovered their strength. After an hour or so they stopped to rest and ate oranges from a nearby tree.

  Sam watched a pair of bright yellow banana quits flying through the trees, calling shrilly to one another as they settled at last on a branch smothered in the dazzling colour of a morning glory vine. Sam leant back against the trun
k of a tree and said dreamily, 'It's so beautiful and peaceful here.'

  'Mm, I know what you mean. The West Indies are the nearest to paradise I've ever seen.'

  'Have you travelled a lot?'

  'Quite a bit. I used to go abroad on business.'

  'You haven't always lived in Barbados, then?'

  'No, I lived in England until about three years ago, then I came out here.' He stood up. 'If you're rested we'd better move on.'

  After about another twenty minutes they broke free of the trees and began to climb over more rocky ground leading to the summit. It wasn't terribly high as hills go, but they were both out of breath by the time they got to the top, and Mike had had to help Sam up the last few yards. She flopped down on to a rock to recover her breath while Mike shaded his eyes and looked around.

  'It's quite a small island, as I suspected. Not much more than half a mile wide and about a mile long, I should guess.'

  Sam came to stand beside him as he examined the coastline minutely. 'No signs of life, I'm afraid.'

  'Look, over there!' Sam exclaimed as she pointed to the northern horizon. 'Isn't that another island?'

  They could just make out the darker outline of land far away.

  'It looks like it,' Mike agreed. 'Wonder what the horizon is from here; probably about fifty miles, I should think.'

  'Couldn't we send up a smoke signal, or something?' Sam suggested eagerly. 'Then they could send a boat for us.'

  Mike shook his head regretfully. 'They'd never See it from this distance. No, we'll either have to wait it out here until we see a boat or a plane, or else try and build some kind of boat or raft to take us across.'

  "Where do you think we are?'

  'On one of the Grenadines, I should think. That whole range stretches for miles and is scattered with little uninhabited islands like this, some of them not much bigger than rocks. You often get charter yachts bringing tourists to visit the lesser known islands, and possibly natives come over now and again to cut down some of the trees for timber. That's if they can get through the reef, of course. Perhaps we'd better find out if there's a gap in it anywhere and make camp near it, so that we can be on hand if any boats do appear.'