2.
Try harder …
The words echoed in his mind as he stared into the distance, lost in his thoughts and oblivious to his surroundings, spectacular as they were. Under different circumstances … Wow, what a place to be. Had he not been so distracted, even he would have had to admire the scene spread out before him – clear blue water as far as the eye could see, golden sands beneath him, lush green jungle behind and all bathed in the soft twilight glow of the setting sun. He had tuned it out, or was at least trying to, but all around him were the sounds of the island preparing for another night. The survivors were bustling about, lighting fires and trying to keep a stream of light-hearted chatter going; no doubt telling themselves the fire was for light and heat only, not admitting the more obvious role of protection – an attempt to ward off … well, who knew what could be lurking?
Sitting there by the waters edge, listening only to the rhythmic lap of the waves as they broke on the shore, idly running his fingers through the sand and feeling the gentle breeze on his face, it seemed impossible that such tranquillity could hide something so sinister. Yet they had, if not seen it with their own eyes, then certainly felt its effects, having fled through the undergrowth in fear of their lives. Having seen the fate of the pilot. Having heard that transmission.
They're all dead … It killed them all …
According to that blonde, Shannon, anyway – though if she paid as much attention in French class as she did to her own appearance, she could hardly be wrong …
However, incomprehensible as their situation was and though he knew survival and just getting through this should be his priorities, nothing could have been further from his mind. For now, the present was of little consequence – it wasn't like there was really anything they could do except wait it out anyway – and it was the past which played on his mind.
Usually he was only too keen to try to block it out, but now … now, he was quite happy to wallow in all his old sorrows. Not so much drowning them this time as drowning in them. Maybe they were the reason he was here in the first place – they do say everything happens for a reason … He had his reservations on that theory though. He knew better than most that sometimes things happen for which there could be no justification, terrible things. To think that everything he had gone through back home had all been part of some great scheme, engineered by some higher power – no wonder he'd allowed his faith to take a back seat. How could he put his trust in a god who allowed such things to happen, who mapped them out …
And yet he couldn't help wondering if there was truth in that notion; it did seem that maybe now he was paying for what he had done … And he could handle that thought – being punished. In his eyes, he deserved this. And worse. Perhaps there was worse to come …
His gaze drifted down to his hands and he focused on the tape wrapped around his fingers. FATE spelled out across one hand.
Maybe it was. Maybe his whole life was already spelled out for him … Running through the jungle – he had already seen that without understanding what it meant and now here he was. At best, it was a hell of a coincidence – at worse … Well, he was still working on that one.
The letters blurred before him and he rubbed at his eyes with his other hand, fighting back unshed tears. Fate – could it really be so cruel as to give him so much, only to snatch it back from him? He knew he deserved everything he got, but did his punishment really have to drag others down with him?
"Charlie?"
He started at the soft voice, thinking for a moment that his mind was playing tricks on him again until it continued, the lilting Australian accent growing more apparent.
"Aren't you coming over to the fire? It's not so warm now the sun's going down …"
"Maybe in a little bit." he said, forcing himself to smile for her benefit. "Just thought I'd … clear my head, you know?"
"Yeah, it can get a bit … intense." she nodded, "Mind if I …?"
Not wanting to hurt this girl's feelings when she had been nothing but nice to him, Charlie made a little gesture of consent and then, almost as an afterthought, jumped up to take her arm and help her ease herself down onto the now cooling sand.
"Thanks." she said gratefully as he sat back down beside her.
"So how are you?" he asked, casting a concerned eye over her and noticing how drained she looked.
"Oh, you know." she sighed wearily, running a hand over her swollen stomach. "Still pregnant. Still tired. Still stuck here like everyone else."
"Same old." he smiled sympathetically, getting a nod in response.
"How about you? You looked miles away just now." the young woman said, grinning as he gave a wry laugh. "If only, huh?"
"Yeah … I guess I can't complain though – I'm okay, all things considered. You seen Jack lately – made sure everything's okay with the little one?" Charlie asked, keen to divert the focus from himself.
"Yes, Mom!" she teased, "Everything's fine. And it seems like I've got a real little footie player in the making in here - he's been kicking me all day!"
"You just make sure he ends up playing for Man U – none of your Aussie Rules nonsense!" he grinned, making her giggle and feign an offended look. "So you're sure it's a boy then?"
"Pretty sure. Dunno why really, but I've just got a feeling – it must sound silly …"
"Course not – if anyone should know it's you. You are lugging the little tyke about twenty-four/seven."
"Don't I know it!" she agreed, "Oh, here we go again - quick, feel!"
"I dunno …" he started to stammer, a little taken aback by her enthusiasm to include him but, before he could react further, she had already grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach.
"Did you feel that? That's a foot! And again!" she beamed happily and he couldn't help but smile back, though there was a look in his blue eyes she couldn't quite read.
"That's great, Claire." he said sincerely, remembering her fear right after the crash when she had to confess that she hadn't felt the baby move.
"Isn't it?" she agreed, "I mean, it's weird to think of a little person in there and the moving about might keep me awake but at least this way I know he's alright. And in there's probably the best place for him – the thought of giving birth out here … I know we've got Jack and we're lucky to have him, but … this isn't how I imagined it would be. I kinda wanted a natural birth, no drugs or anything, but this is a bit too natural …"
No drugs …
Claire chatted on, caught up in thinking about her baby and finding it a relief to have someone she could tell all her concerns too – and there was something about the British rock star that just seemed to make him an excellent, if slightly unlikely, sounding board for her – too much of a relief for her to notice he wasn't exactly paying close attention as something she said struck a particular chord.
No drugs …
"What do you want me to do, Tasha?" Charlie asked, realising that she really was reaching breaking point with him as he followed her out onto the balcony of the hotel room and found her leaning heavily on the railing, staring out over the cityscape below.
"What's the point, Charlie?" she asked wearily, not turning around.
"I don't want it to be like this between us." he said, "We're good together – you know we are. Tell me what you want me to do."
"You already know!" she snapped, "I've asked you over and over and you kept fobbing me off, telling me you had it all in control. And when you did promise me, did you keep that promise? No! Because you couldn't. Or wouldn't."
"I've said I'm sorry …"
"I know, but you still do it so sorry doesn't really mean much, does it? If you were really sorry, you wouldn't keep doing this to me … To yourself." she said, but he could tell her anger was rapidly fading into resignation and knew that wasn't a good sign – it felt like she was giving up on him.
"Tash …" he said softly, faltering as he approached her, not knowing what else there was to say. "I never meant to hurt you …"
His words were met only with silence and he reached out, running his hands down her bare arms as he stood behind her, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. "Look at me …"
Reluctantly, she turned and found herself in his arms, gazing up into blue eyes which, though still heavy from the night before, still spoke volumes.
"Talk to me." he whispered, his forehead resting lightly against hers and his hand coming up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"Get clean, Charlie." she said simply and, though her tone was even, the look on her face told a different story – her desperation plain to see. "No broken promises, no lies … no drugs."
"You make it sound so easy – like it's something I can do while you pop out for a pint of milk. It doesn't work that way, love."
"I'm not expecting it to be easy." Tasha said, "But I'm saying I'll help you – I'll be there for you …"
"But you won't if I don't do this? Is that what this is – an ultimatum?" he asked, letting go of her abruptly.
She dropped her gaze and, for a second, he was sure she would back down rather than press the issue. But slowly her eyes met his and, although even he could see how much it was hurting her and how much she was struggling with this, she nodded.
"I think it has to be."
" … it has to be."
Claire was still talking to him, even though he'd barely heard a word and had just about managed to make all the right noises in all the right places.
"I mean, it is crazy, right? It has to be – I must be crazy! No drugs? Sure, it sounds good, like it'd be all better for the baby and everything, but the pain must be something else – I'd probably last all of five minutes! I just hope it doesn't come to that … We have to be rescued before then – the last thing anyone needs is me screaming my head off for drugs we don't have and I swore I wouldn't use anyway and …" Something in his manner caught her attention and she stopped herself mid-sentence with a self-conscious little laugh. "And I'm yakking on to a rock star about giving birth – you so do not need to hear this. Sorry. God, you probably wanted some peace and quiet and then I come along and start going on about breathing exercises and epidurals – I get a bit carried away at times … Don't know when to shut up. You should have told me to shut up … And I'm doing it again. I'll go …"
Mentally giving himself a little shake, Charlie turned to her and tried to reassure her. "Hey, breathe before you turn blue, love!" he joked, "Get in some practise for when Junior makes an arrival."
"I just … Sorry I went on. It's being stuck here, I think – kinda gets to you …" she said sheepishly, "That's my excuse anyway."
"Don't worry 'bout it. It's understandable you'd be worried, girl in your condition. But it's gonna be fine and any time you need to talk, I'm here – it's not like I'm going anywhere, now am I?"
"Thanks, Charlie." she said, her smile resurfacing. "You really think it's going to be okay?"
"It has to be …" he said, a more serious look than he had intended on his face. "It has to be."
to be continued ...