“You and me, Stelly. We’ll show ‘em.”
Gail joined our duo, making our matching yellow dresses a triple golden glow. “All for one and one for all. I love you crazy peeps.”
...
TEARS ROLLED DOWN my cheeks, tickling my throat, wrenching me from the dream.
It’d been so long since I’d dreamt of my sister. Almost as if my mind blocked such painful memories because she’d died far too young.
So why now?
Why did death cling to me like the stench of decay?
Galloway.
The moment his name popped into my head, images of his smile, his touch, his laugh, his kiss...all spindled in my head, crushing me harder and harder into the supple mattress.
I rolled over, hugging the white pillow, sobbing my heart and soul into its starched perfection.
I didn’t know how long I cried.
I didn’t care how long I drowned in tears.
I would sail away on them, unmoored and unnoticed, until I met Galloway in another life.
However, I couldn’t let go.
I couldn’t be so selfish.
Pippa.
Coco.
They need me.
The men.
They had them. They’d hurt my babies.
Cannon firing memories shot me upright; my fists raised, searching the room for the men who’d hurt my family.
Where were they?
Where were my daughters?
Adrenaline crashed through my blood like rogue waves, searching for my victims.
But no one was there.
Was it a nightmare?
Not real?
Sniffing back tears, I blinked, expecting to see the bright glare of virginal sunshine, hear the soft hish hish of the tide, and fall in love with (just like I did every morning) the images of my family arguing and laughing by the cheery fire pit.
Only...
None of that existed.
Not anymore.
I was in a room.
A room!
I hadn’t been in a room for three and a half years.
I was in a bed.
With sheets.
And pillows.
And creamy cotton blankets.
There was a television and curtains and wallpaper and light switches. A painting hung on the wall mocking me with delicate seahorses and anemones swaying in a non-existent current.
Instead of being relieved at finally, finally being found, all I focused on was how?
Where am I?
Who are they?
Where are Pippa and Coco?
How had this happened without my knowledge?
Throwing myself out of bed, I plucked at the white nightgown covering my salty, skinny body. My ragged bleached hair looked almost as colourless as the gown. A strange after-taste burned my tongue, and a small Band-Aid covered a puncture wound inside my elbow.
What the hell happened?
Was this heaven?
Had I died with Galloway?
My bare feet dashed across the short-pile carpet, beelining for the exit.
I passed the bathroom and slammed to a halt.
A woman stared back.
As much as the men who’d tried to hurt my family were strangers, so too was this mirrored reflection.
It took three heartbeats to recognise myself. Five more until the hurried breathing in the mirror matched mine. My eyes were wild beneath unkempt seaweed hair. My collarbones looked as if they lived within a skin layer of flying free on skeletal wings. My legs were sticks. My fullish chest was mostly flat with teardrop bumps reminding me I’d suckled Coco. I’d grown from naïve introvert to powerful mother all while combating survival.
The outlander was me.
And I’d never felt more alone.
Tears came swiftly but I didn’t have time for such nonsense.
I’d cried enough.
I’d cry again later.
But for now, I had to find my daughters. I’d made a promise. Galloway had died believing I would keep that promise.
Turning away, I wrenched open the door and charged into the corridor.
Rows and rows of identical doors greeted me. Numbers labelled them from high to low, peepholes glittered in artificial light, and sideboards held seashells and sculptures of clownfish and turtles.
Where am I?
A man came around the corner in a light grey pantsuit with a tray of covered food and water.
Water.
Yes, please.
Not evergreen-tainted water from our trees or slightly earthy rainwater from our reservoirs.
Pure, pure water.
In a glass tinkling with ice.
Ice!
Did such a wondrous thing still exist?
“Ah, you’re awake. I was just coming to get you.”
My mind snapped from the water trance, and I spun around, expecting to see another person behind me.
He couldn’t be speaking to me...surely? I’d never set eyes on him before, yet he spoke as if he knew me.
I turned back to face him, pointing at myself. “You’re speaking to me?”
He smiled. He was older than the interloping vagabonds on my island but kindness radiated in his eyes. A stethoscope hung around his neck and his nametag gave him an address of Stefan.
“Yes, of course. You’re the woman rescued from the island.”
My mouth dried up.
Placing the tray on the sideboard with clownfish frolicking, he held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. You were awake last night, but I did wonder if you would remember. After all, such trauma can sometimes render a mind forgetful for a time.”
I couldn’t look away from his hand. It’d been so long since I’d touched anyone but Galloway and the children.
Conner.
His memory took me by surprise at the worst moments.
Galloway.
Both...were gone.
Tears pricked my eyes as I stared at the man’s hand. Did I want to touch him? Was it safe?
But he never dropped his offering, forcing me to be brave and place my fingers into his.
The moment I touched him, splices of the past few hours attacked me.
Fainting mid-fight with the men holding my daughters.
A boat sloshing and roaring, taking me from Galloway.
Screaming as a large, looming ship accepted me into its belly.
Fainting again as I tried to fight and was held down by three men on a gurney.
Crying as needles and medicine were administered against my wishes.
And through it all, the horror of what would happen to Pippa and Coco. And how much Galloway would hate me for abandoning him so soon after he’d abandoned me.
I hadn’t held a funeral.
I hadn’t given him his last rites (not that I knew what that entailed).
I’d just...gone.
Ripping my hand from his, I swallowed. “Where are my family?”
“You mean the toddler and the girl?” He grinned. “Doing mightily well, I must say. The girl mentioned you’d been on that island for almost four years. It’s remarkable that you’re in the shape you are for such a length of time.”
“What shape?”
“Strong and fairly healthy. Your blood-work came back with some vitamin and mineral deficiencies along with very low iron levels, but you’re not dehydrated. It truly is a miracle.”
“It wasn’t a miracle.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Were you trained survivalists before the accident?”
“No. But it wasn’t a miracle. It was hard work and determination not to die.”
His shoulders lowered; his face softened. “It’s amazing what the threat of death can make a human achieve.”
Galloway.
Waterworks tried to come again. I dug fingertips into my eyes. “Can...can you take me to them? My children?”
As long as I was with Pip and Coco, I could keep the impending agony of Galloway’s death from consuming
me a little longer. Long enough to figure out where we were and what this new future meant.
Stefan nodded. “Of course. That was the plan. I was going to give you lunch and then take you to them. I’m the nurse working with Doctor Finnegan.” He came closer, lowering his voice. “Do you remember what the captain told you last night? Or is it a blur?”
“The captain?”
“Yes, of this vessel.”
The ship.
“We’re on a boat?”
“More than just a boat.” His lips quirked. “You’re on Pacific Pearl.”
When I stared at him blankly, he laughed. “Have you heard of P&O Cruises?”
Vaguely, I remembered Madi mentioning them a few years ago as a short break leaving from Australia...to Fiji.
Oh, my God.
“You’re cruising the islands?”
“Yes. We recently renovated the boat. Took eighty-four thousand man-hours in just twelve days; pretty spectacular undertaking, if I say so myself. Anyway, with the new boat, we wanted a new route. As this is the inaugural cruise since the renovation, our customers were open to trying something unusual.
“Each night, we sail to an island never visited before and check it out before letting the guests off the next day to explore.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s how we found you. Our scouts had just traipsed through the forest to check the land for danger when they ran into...what did you call them?”
“Pippa and Coco.”
I kept the fact that Coco was short for Coconut.
That was private.
“Yes. Pippa and Coco. When you came and, umm...attacked them, they radioed for back-up but then you fainted and they took the opportunity to carry you on board the adventure craft to bring you back.
“And good job, they did. You fainted because of low levels of folate, Vitamin A, electrolytes, and unhealthy levels of magnesium.” His smile faltered. “You’re all anaemic as well. Common indicators of overwhelming tiredness, prolonged grief, and emotional distress. Not to mention, unavailable access to food.”
I didn’t speak...absorbing the ramifications of such a random event. The captain had saved our lives by sheer fluke, yet he’d been only minutes too late to save the love of my life.
Tears welled again, and this time, I couldn’t hold them back.
The longer I stood in society, the more manners and historical memories emerged. I remembered how to be polite even while screaming inside. I recalled decorum and how to lie to a stranger’s face...all while hiding how badly I was hurting.
And I was hurting.
So, so much.
The introvert part of me swung into full gear, no longer comfortable or at home with people I’d woven my life with.
That was over now.
Done.
Gone.
Just like Galloway.
Just like Conner.
“I’m—I’m sorry.” I wiped at my wet cheeks. “It’s—it’s just...” I sucked in a heavy breath unable to tell him that along with the three lives he’d rescued, one more was lost on the very beach holidaymakers wanted to sunbake and drink cocktails.
Oh, no...our house.
Our things.
My memory card with countless videos and photos. My notebooks. Galloway’s carvings, Coco’s doll, and Pippa's necklaces.
We’d just left them all.
I need them.
They were the only thing I had left of him. Of Connor. Of our private world.
I never thought I’d say such heresy, but I made eye contact with Stefan and begged, “Please...we have to go back.”
His lips parted. “You do? Why? We’ve rescued you. No need to worry. We’ll take care of you and transport you home. Come on, I’ll take you to your daughters. I promise we brought them on board. We didn’t leave them behind. We left no one there, I promise.”
You did.
You left two souls we loved and three more we didn’t know.
“You don’t understand. There’s someone...something that we left behind. I can’t go. Not without them.”
Him.
Stefan stepped over all boundaries as he gathered me in a hug.
I remained still as stone in his embrace.
He murmured, “I think you’d better come with me.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
...............................................
E S T E L L E
......
Enemies can become friends. Friends can become enemies.
And strangers?
They can become both at the same time.
Taken from a P&O Cruise napkin, Pacific Pearl.
...
“AH, HELLO AGAIN.”
My spine braided into a thousand worthless knots.
Again?
I didn’t know this man.
Wait...
Foggy memories swirled into clarity as the captain strode across the bridge.
Last night.
He’d come to visit me where I’d been tended and drugged. He’d said something about taking care of us. To relax. To let him fix whatever it was that needed fixing.
He couldn’t fix this.
He couldn’t bring back the dead.
He’d meant it to be soothing and kind.
But it’d done the opposite.
He was asking me to trust him. To put him in charge of my fate, turning everything I’d endured, everything I’d evolved into nothing because he knew better.
I was just a woman plucked from an island.
He was the hero.
I don’t want a hero.
I want Galloway.
And Conner.
And Pippa and Coco and my island!
“Pleasure to see you again, Miss.” The captain’s black hair was peppered with grey beneath his official hat, and his trim Asian physique spoke of life upon the open seas.
His hand came out (just as Stefan’s had), demanding I touch him against my wishes.
I hid my cringe, shaking quickly before tucking my hands under my arms and crossing tight. “Hello, eh...”
“John Keung.”
“Hello, Captain Keung.”
His button nose wrinkled. “Oh, don’t worry with that. Please, call me John.” His dark eyes brightened. “It’s not every day we welcome a castaway on board.”
What am I doing here?
I didn’t have time for this. I needed my children. I needed them to keep my cresting pain at bay. I felt the tears scratching my insides, harpooning me with agonising memories.
He’s dead, they screamed.
You’re alone, they gloated.
I needed to hold Coco and let Pippa hold me as we both cried for the men we’d loved and lost.
I glanced at Stefan. “I thought...I thought you were taking me to see Coco and Pippa?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, disrupting his stethoscope. “I thought it was best you debriefed with the captain beforehand.” Looking at John, he added, “She, umm—she can’t remember much about last night. Perhaps, a re-jog of her memory is in order, sir?”
Goosebumps broke out beneath the white shift I’d been dressed in. I suddenly worried my underwear-less frame might be visible beneath.
The thought kicked my heart then ran away.
So what?
What was the point in caring?
I stood before strangers barefoot, mostly naked, and stripped of natural beauty and vitality thanks to years on a tropical island. No one cared about me. The sad little washed-up rescued girl. No one cared that I was loved and loved in return. That I was a mother. That I was a widow. That I was grieving for a son I’d lost only months before I lost my husband.
They didn’t need to know.
That was my pain, and my pain was more private than my useless body.
The tears scratched harder, biting lonely teeth into my heart.
Bracing my shoulders, I said, “Thank you for what you’ve done for me, but I really must insist that we turn
around. I need...I need to go back.”
“Go back?” The captain’s eyes flared. “My dear, what ever for?”
My lower lip wobbled as sobs threatened to take me. All I seemed to do now was cry. If a human body was made up of water, then I didn't have a single droplet left.
“I just do. Take me back. At once.” My voice came out harder than I’d intended, using anger to patch up my terror.
Was that what G did?
The entire time he’d been gruff and argumentative; was he merely blustering with façade to hide his true fear? The fear that he’d murdered. That he’d killed.
He’d passed such horrendous news to me before dying. What was I supposed to do with that? Was it supposed to make me love him less? Was I supposed to hand in his crime and choose the law over my heart?
It doesn’t matter now.
He’s dead.
I rubbed at the bleeding hole where my heart used to be, eaten by my feral tears.
The captain followed my movement, ignoring his question for another. “Are you uncomfortable in the nightgown? I’m sorry it’s slightly too big. That was all the on board gift shop had in stock.”
Glancing down, I read the P&O cruise logo on the frilly collar around my décolletage (not that my boobs had cleavage after so many years).
“It’s—it’s fine.” I swallowed against the bitterness of bereavement. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done.”
Biting. Biting. Tearing. Tearing.
The tears grew and grew.
“I’ll have a selection sent to your room. Dresses and what-not.” The captain cleared his throat. “I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t launder your bathing suit. We decided it was probably past its use-by-date.”
Yes, I do. They’re memories. Not clothing.
How many times had Galloway undone those bows and made love to me?
How many times had I slipped from the black swimwear to swim beneath the moonlight bare?
I looked at the floor. “No, I don’t mind.”
“I’ll make sure more clothes for your children are sent up, too.” The captain shuffled in place. For the director and man in charge of such a vessel, he seemed nervous around me.
Was I that wild? That savage?
Apologise for hurting his men.
It took so much effort, but I said, “I—I need to thank you, Captain Keung. Thank you for finding my family. I’m sorry for hurting your crew.”