by Jools Louise
Chapter Five:
Bedlam in Paradise
Two days later, I sat in the middle of utter chaos. There were kids running everywhere…literally everywhere. The pool area, the office building, the villas. Kids, kids and more kids, a hundred of them running wild.
I stood looking on in amazement as my crew tried to corral the little monsters, but it seemed the children had had quite enough of authority recently. They seemed determined to create as much havoc as possible. I had a sneaking suspicion that many were street kids, unused to rules or adults or any parental guidance, which brought a daunting problem to mind. How in hell were a bunch of childless, clueless grown-ups supposed to get a hundred screaming kids under control?
Over the noise, I heard a slightly different sound. A yelp of pain, followed by the wailing of a distressed child
Crap!
A quick look around had me moving gingerly toward the side of the pool. A youngster, male, of about eight years old, was lying on his side, nursing his wrist and crying like his heart would break. Before I could reach him, one of our three longer-term resident kids turned up. Datu, a young Filipino, reached the youngster and helped him to get up. Looking up as I approached, Datu gave me his brightest smile.
“Jess, you better?” He asked the question just as he was putting his arm around the younger boy.
“Hey, Datu. Yes, I’m no worse for wear. Are you okay?” The conversation felt slightly stilted, since I felt incredibly guilty that the boys had been put in danger yet again.
Datu looked at me, his expression far older than the twelve years I knew him to be. It was a look that should never be in the eyes of a child, a look that said he’d seen far too much of what adults are capable of, all the bad stuff.
“Bad men gone. Bad woman gone. Children okay now. We help them go home, yes?” He gave me his cheeky grin again as he glanced around at the chaos surrounding us.
I smiled at him, ruffling his hair before turning my attention to the younger boy, who was sniffling.
“Hey, now. Shall we get that wrist seen to?” Datu translated for me, causing the young boy to nod and smile shyly, then went with me to the clinic to get the youngster’s wrist seen to.
As we approached the clinic, I remembered that Cara was still on the island. She had been badly wounded and was not considered a threat in her condition, but I was still wary. With all the children here, and my memories of her actions still fresh in my mind, I approached the facility cautiously.
Cara was being medically seen to by Marty, with two SAS guys guarding her room.
As we entered, I took note of their presence before hailing Sylvia.
The doctor came out of her consulting room, brow arched as she viewed the young boy.
“Well, now, young man. We’ll need to fix that, won’t we?” She gave the boy a bright smile, winking at him and causing him to giggle a little.
Her gaze rose to mine and I saw the shadow there. The woman who she had been romantically connected to had been responsible for a lot of despicable things. Ordering Max’s flogging was just one. Neither of us had discussed it, but I knew that at some time we would need to go there. Sylvia was just as affected as we all were. I knew she must somehow feel like she was responsible. How could she? Cara was a great actress, and despite my misgivings, I had not alerted anyone to my suspicions.
I gave Sylvia a smile, patting her arm as she turned with the boys.
Following them into the examination room, I waited for a while before some compulsion had me leaving the room and wandering down the hall. I nodded at the two SAS guys, peering through the small window at the sole occupant.
Cara was propped up against the pillows, pale and hooked up to an IV. Her eyes were closed, but she must have sensed something. As I paused there, her eyes locked with mine. Then she smiled, if the sneer which curled her lush lips could be called that.
Without thinking, I pushed past the guards and entered the room.
Standing clear of the bed, I stared at her. I felt an upwelling of sheer rage as I studied that beautifully treacherous face.
“Why?” Finally I asked the question, my voice quiet but intent on an answer.
She sneered a while longer before replying, her eyes raking me with a look of utter contempt.
“Why? Why not? They pay me a lot of money for supplying their merchandise. I intend to retire young.” She gave a light, malicious laugh which crawled up my spine and set my teeth on edge.
“But you were in charge, weren’t you? They work for you.” I had figured out something that had bugged me from the beginning. Cara had ordered Max’s death, and was involved in kidnapping children to work in sweatshops and possibly the sex industry in Asia. I still couldn’t fathom the evil behind such acts.
“You’re the Triad boss.” She smirked, her smile cold as ice.
“Bravo, chubby. Such a smart little bitch, aren’t you? You shut down a very lucrative business for me. Those turtles you guard so well? They make me a lot of money. Millions of dollars. All tax free. You and your little band of bisexual men cost me dearly.” With a sudden lunge, she ripped free of the tubes and went for me.
In her hand was a scalpel. The bitch was nothing if not resourceful.
I dodged her attack, my foot tripping her as the momentum carried her past me.
“What’s the matter, bitch? Looks like you’re having trouble without your morons to back you up.” She gave an ear-splitting screech which nearly burst my eardrums. Turning to face me, her features deformed into a scowl, she slashed at me.
Instinct took over, all those hours of self-defence lessons kicking in, and I swiped the knife hand aside, then delivered a snap kick to her knee cap. As she went down, my fist came up and I felt the satisfying crunch as it broke her perfect nose. The finale was my right foot planted firmly in the centre of her jaw, snapping her head back and sending her flying back across the room. The scalpel went skittering across the floor and I kicked it aside. Blood sprayed as she went, and I followed her flight with my eyes. A dull thud sounded, as her skull hit the tiled floor. Then she slumped, unconscious, blood covering her evil face.
I smiled grimly as I heard the guards enter behind me.
“Damn, remind me not to get on your bad side.” The blond one was at least six foot three with bright green eyes and a wide grin as he looked at the unconscious heap on the floor.
I rolled my eyes, reaching for the scalpel.
“Remind me not to have you guarding again, since this bitch could have gutted you like a fish before you knew what hit you. Tell me again what you do for a living?” I asked sarcastically.
The blond flushed, staring at the blade, then at Cara.
“We haven’t been in here. Only the nurse and doctor.” I stared at him, then began to run to the examination room. Sylvia!
The children were still there and I skidded to a halt, breathing heavily as I studied the scene. A soft binding covered the younger boy’s lower arm. Datu was holding his hand and smiled at me brightly as I entered.
He looked at the blood on my shirt and frowned slightly before, without a word, grabbing the other boy’s hand more tightly and leaving swiftly.
I looked at Sylvia, feeling like punching something.
“You gave Cara a weapon? After all she’s done?” She flinched, lowering her eyes and hunching her shoulders.
“She can’t be too bad. She loves the boys.”
My eyes widened incredulously. What was that saying? Something about love being blind?
“Doctor Myers, that woman is the reason those boys are here in the first place. She heads the Triad gang in this area. She was head of the gang of poachers we had here last year. She ordered Max to be flogged, tortured and killed. For fun. She’s had hundreds of children taken from their families, probably killed their parents, so she can ‘retire early’ and you’re telling me she’s not that bad?” I was practically screeching the last bit. What planet was she living on?
“Ray, the baker, had to
shoot her or she would have killed four other people. Oh, and by the way, she just tried to disembowel me with the scalpel you gave her! She’s about as bad as it’s possible to get!” She began to shake, her hands covering her face, and I cursed luridly.
“You don’t understand. She said she loved me. I believed her. I’m not getting any younger and I needed—”
“Please tell me you aren’t defending her? Please tell me that an intelligent, attractive, independent woman like you doesn’t believe what you just said? The woman is a murdering bloody psycho. She doesn’t love anything but her retirement fund. You’re damned right I don’t understand. You’re pathetic! And you’re also fired! Get your stuff and get off this island, Doctor.”
She flinched again, sinking to the floor and crying hard and loud. The sobs racked her frame. For a split second, I felt sorry for her. Then I remembered Max being whipped, beaten and then dragged off to die. No, this was no time for sorrow. Handing a lethal weapon to a murderer because you feel lonely was just about as idiotic as it was possible to be. Sheesh!
A light cough behind me had me turning. Marty stood there, eyes sad, for once his expression serious.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise what had happened. “
“Marty, call Jackson and Marcus. I want this bitch away from here as soon as possible. And Cara? She’s no longer welcome here, either. Let the bloody Australian Navy have her.”
Marty nodded, casting a final glance at the doctor before leaving to make the call.
* * * *
I sat on the sand later that evening, watching as the sun descended toward the horizon. Paradise. It still was paradise, the gentle waves rippling along the shore, the smell of jacaranda and hibiscus on the breeze. The soothing breeze. I let the atmosphere soothe me.
It had taken several hours to get rid of the bad apples. Jackson hadn’t tried to persuade me to keep Doctor Myers. In fact, he had sounded resigned to the situation. I was fairly sure he had been expecting something to happen, but certainly not that Cara had been head honcho and Sylvia turning into a spineless wimp.
Sylvia had been taken to Sydney. She had been admitted for psychiatric counselling at a respected institution, and I hoped she was okay. I just couldn’t trust her here.
I heard movement behind me and turned my head, expecting to see one of the crew.
My eyes widened at seeing three young Filipino boys. Datu, Bayani and Benji shuffled toward me, then sat next to me on the sand. I gave them a smile before returning to watch the sunset.
Bayani took my hand shyly, sidling closer and resting his head on my arm. Hesitantly, I placed an arm around his thin shoulders, resting my hand lightly on his arm. Benji sat on my other side and looked sad for a moment. I remembered his closeness to Cara. And she had betrayed him. After a moment, he copied his friend and held my hand also.
Datu sat on the other side of Benji, sifting sand through his fingers.
“We like it here. We like to stay here with you and the crew.” I had to strain to hear Datu’s words. When I realised what he was saying, I smiled at him.
“Wouldn’t your parents miss you?” I asked quietly.
“Our parents dead. Bad men killed them. Cara tell us. We not have home. No people want us. They all too poor.” Benji spoke, his voice quavering slightly. I swallowed hard. Then I placed an arm around him as well.
“She bad woman. She kill lots of people. She try to kill Max. She try to kill you. Her nasty beech.” I stifled a laugh despite the circumstances at hearing the pronunciation of the word “bitch.” I didn’t correct Datu, deciding to let the swear word slide just this once.
“Yes, I’m glad she’s off the island.” I glanced at each of the boys.
I heard a slight cough behind me and turned my head to see Ray standing there. The baker of the island, he had narrowly missed being killed by Cara and her thugs. He had been scheduled to leave the island with three others, but Cara had ended up attacking them. Ray had explained he had been carrying a pistol, shooting Cara and killing the other gang members who had intervened. Consequently, he had been spending time with Jackson and the other therapist trying to deal with the psychological impact of the violence.
“Hi, Ray,” I greeted him, smiling as he shuffled his feet a little.
“Jess. Sorry to bother you.” I raised a brow, since he looked more than a little uncomfortable, sheepish even.
“Ray, you’ve been here for months. You know I appreciate straight talking. Spit it out!” I laughed a little to myself as Datu giggled at my choice of words.
“Yes, baker man. Spit it out!” Ray grinned and moved to sit beside us on the beach.
“Hey Datu, Benji, Bayani. I just baked a bunch of cherry pastries if you fancy trying them out. If you don’t, Caleb and Max will probably eat the lot!” He waggled his brows at the boys, who immediately got up and ran swiftly in the direction of the café, spraying sand everywhere.
“Nicely done.” I gave Ray a sideways glance, brushing sand off my lap and hair, waiting for him to spill whatever was on his mind.
“I thought so.” He crooked his fingers, rubbing his chest like he was shining a medal and I burst out laughing at him. He grinned back, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“So, I was thinking, since I happen to like it here on the island, and since my wife has been bitching at me to invite her and the kids out here, and since we no longer have a doctor and my wife is a doctor, you might consider hiring her!” The flood of words came out of Ray’s mouth like a tsunami, fast and furious, with barely a pause. It took me a moment to process the torrent. Then…
“Your wife? Is a doctor? And you have kids?” I was incredulous, since he had never once mentioned being married or having kids, and he’d been here for nearly a year. Or at least I would be incredulous if Jackson hadn’t fielded a phone call a few days ago telling him that Ray’s wife and kids were looking at visiting. Ray was in for a big surprise!
He ducked his head, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“My wife and I are…separated. I lost just about everything when my mind imploded a few years ago. I turned to alcohol and drugs to numb my memories of the bomb that killed one of my sons. It did the trick. It numbed my memories of everything…including my wife and remaining children. The kids are five, eight and nine years old. I miss them like crazy.”
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“I would say it speaks volumes that your wife didn’t divorce you. I don’t think you lost everything. I’d say it was more like she’s been waiting for you to heal. Since being here, I’ve only seen how strong you are. You’ve been helping the boys and the other kids who are here, setting up some classes for them, teaching some of them to swim. No, I’d say you have an awful lot to be proud of.” He stared at me, then his eyes filled with tears. He blinked, his head ducking down again, one tear making its way down his cheek.
“I never thought of it like that. Niamh tore me off a strip when I left, telling her she’d be better off without me. She told me to get some bloody help or she’d give me something to whine about!” I had to laugh. Ray was Irish as they came, a former jockey turned baker who had the gift of the blarney stone. But, listening to him, I could hear the love for his wife. She sounded fierce.
“And you got help, came here, got caught up in a turf war and have become a father figure to over a hundred preteens!” I waggled my brows at him, grinning.
He laughed at me, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
“So, how’d you land a doctor for a wife?” I teased him, laughing as he gave me a nudge with his elbow.
“I’ll have you know, me darlin’, that I was considered a ‘catch’ back in Ireland. Just look at this fine physique, rapier wit and killer charm. Niamh couldn’t resist!”
“Is that right, Raymond? That must be why I find my husband of ten years sitting next to a half-clad brunette on a romantic tropical hideaway!” Ray froze as the lilting female voice reached us.
I sniggered.
&nbs
p; “Oh, that’s right, Raymond. I forgot to tell you that your wife applied to become our new resident doctor. This tropical hideaway needs a new medic, I desperately need to keep you as our baker, and your kids will love living here on the island. Apparently, you also have a sister who’s agreed to tutor any kids who stay. Some of them have no families left, or at least none who are willing to take them back.”
“Hi Jess.” Niamh gave me a wide grin and I stood up to give her a hug.
“Hey, Niamh. I’m so glad you’re here.” A little boy and two little girls stood just behind her, looking at me shyly.
“Aah! You must be the leprechauns I’ve been hearing about. I bet you’d like to give your dad a nice hug. I’ll go and tell Caleb to get dinner ready.” I winked at the children, who were staring in awe at their father who had lost his battle with his tears, streaks of warm fluid trickling down his face.
Niamh moved toward him, kneeling beside her husband.
The youngest child, a girl of five who had a mane of gingery hair that cascaded down her small back in a mess of corkscrew curls, gave a giggle, running over to her father and planting herself on his lap.
“Hey, Da. I met a new friend called Meg and she and I are going to build a Wendy house to play in, and Auntie Bridget is going to build a school and teach us all so we won’t ever have to leave here, ‘cos we’ve all decided we want to live on a tropical island. We missed you so much when you left us, but Ma said you needed to heal your mind and get some help with your overfondness for Guinness so we came to help you.” She eventually ran out of breath and I shared a laughing look with Niamh. Apparently, verbal diarrhoea ran in the family. I laughed as the other two children began to all speak at once, their shyness forgotten as they all tried to outdo each other by telling their father all about their very long journey from Ireland.
“I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if there’s anything you need, luv.” I grinned at Niamh, then left to find Caleb.
Chuckling to myself, I realised I was as happy at the reunion as I was that Ray, the baker-of-delicious-pastries was not going to be leaving any time soon.
