Authors: M.K. Elliott
The small hut selling ferry tickets was open, so she headed over, dragging her oversized suitcase along behind her.
With relief, she saw someone manning the booth. The Thai boy must have been wrong. Boats must be leaving.
“Hi,” she said, smiling what she hoped was a winning smile. “I need to get to the mainland. Could you tell me when the next boat is leaving?”
The young girl behind the counter looked up at her with the same surprise as the boy at the resort. Immediately, Lucy knew how this conversation was going to go.
“There is big storm,” the girl said in broken English. “No boat today, maybe in three day.”
“Three days?”
The girl smiled and nodded. “Three day,” she repeated.
Lucy groaned. Was she seriously stuck here for the next three days?
Waves crashed against
the concrete wall of the jetty. T
he few boats remaining in port swelled and lifted under their force. She hadn’t been imaging things; the wind was definitely getting stronger.
May
be the boy had been right. Perhaps
the storm wasn’t over yet.
A chill ran through her and she shivered. Suddenly she became aware of her position—standing in the middle of a deserted port, suitcase in hand, with a storm brewing. There must have been a lull in the storm, but the force seemed to be building again.
Other than the girl in the booth, she was alone.
The girl leaned forward, her head sticking out of the booth and looked either side. She gave a grim smile and reached up, slamming a reinforced shutter down over the
booth window. Lucy watched as the girl exited from a door in the back and hurried away.
Now she really was alone.
With a sinking heart, she turned and started to make her way back up the main street, dragging her case along behind her. All of the shops and cafes were shut, all with the same protective shutters down over their windows.
Storm shutters
, she thought. They must have been warned about the impending storm, and unlike her, they had listened.
What the hell was she going to do? No hotels or resorts stood on this side of the island, they had all been built around the sandy beaches, not the port, and there were no cars on the road.
The wind picked up pace, pushing her from behind, as though telling her itself that she needed to get moving.
I need get back to the resort,
she thought, wanting to cry. She had no other choice than to sta
rt walking. All she could hope
was that a taxi or another vehicle would drive past and take pity on her, and give her a lift the rest of the way.
At the top of Main Street, the road gave way to the dusty dirt track that served as a road for most of the island. The wind picked up the dust, flinging it into her eyes and against her skin. She felt as if she was being sand-blasted and images of the previous night’s dream came back to her in flashes. Her sandals started to rub and she knew blisters were forming. Her bag jumped and tipped behind her, getting stuck in every bump and crack in the road. She wished she had packed a bit lighter or she’d at least brought a backpack with her like everyone else.
A crack of thunder rolled and boomed across the sky, instantly follow
ed by a blinding flash of light
ning.
The storm hit.
The heavens opened up and fat droplets of rain fell like a sheet, soaking her instantly. The wind whipped her hair back from her face, snatching the breath from her lungs. Lucy fought to stand up against the force of the wind, bent almost double at the waist. Ahead, the wind picked up a bundle of palm fronds, and they skipped and skidded toward her. She tried to get out of the way, but the fronds lashed against her shins, nearly knocking her over, and she cried out in pain.
She had no choice but to try to find shelter somewhere.
Crying now, and frightened
, she dragged her suitcase along behind her, struggling up the road. She limped along, her sandals cutting into her feet, and she bent down and pulled off the offending shoes. She hobbled along in bare feet instead, her sandals clutched in her free hand.
What an idiot I’ve been, losing my head over some guy. And now look at me, fighting with my case, in bare feet, lost in a storm.
She should never have left London. She would have given anything to be sitting in her little flat in London right now, even if it meant she had never met Rudy.
The thought of never having met him only made her cry harder, and her heart hurt to think of him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Rudy knew he was being
reckless, leaving his little house in a storm like this, but he needed to see Lucy. He had barely slept wondering why she hadn’t shown up.
The storm had lulled for the moment, though the relative peace wouldn’t last. Still, he decided he would rather be caught up in a room with Lucy than here on his own, so he would take the chance. Of course, she might tell him to get lost, but he clung to the hope that maybe she’d just fallen asleep after the lunch time wine and missed their date.
The resort was deserted. Most of the staff (with the exception of a couple to provide information for the guests) knew not to show up for work when a storm like this was on the way.
Rudy ran up the steps to Lucy’s room, taking them two at a time, and banged on the door. Around him, the wind started to pick up again.
“Lucy!” he shouted, hoping she could hear him over the wind.
He frowned. Why wasn’t she answering? She wasn’t the type of woman to sulk in her room and not answer the door. He paused, trying to get a sense of the room, but there was no feel of any presence behind the door.
Trying the handle, the door swung open to reveal an empty room. Rudy frowned and stepped inside. There was no sign of her; none of her toiletries in the bathroom, no clothes, no suitcase on the floor.
With a sinking stomach, Rudy realized the truth. Lucy had left.
Something rustled at his feet and he looked down to see the leaflet that had been posted beneath every door, warning the guests to stay inside.
In her haste to leave, Lucy hadn’t even noticed it.
Rudy pulled the door shut again and headed back down to reception.
Storm shutters had been pulled down to protect the reception and bar area but a door at the side allowed access, so he used his key to let himself in.
He checked the log book. Room twenty-three had checked out early, and beside the check out was the log of a taxi run to the port.
Rudy stared at it.
Surely someone hadn’t taken her to the port? Who the hell would be that stupid?
Furious, he stepped out and locked the door behind him. He ran to his bike and jumped on, pulling his helmet on over his head. The high wind made it dangerous for him to ride, but he needed to get to the port. No one else would be around, not when a category two storm had been predicted. The island went into lock down and he imagined Lucy waiting at the port, not knowing what to do or where to go.
Why had she decided to leave? What had happened? He couldn’t help but worry her sudden departure had something to do with him.
Rudy pushed the bike as fast as he dared. Debris blew across the road, threatening to take his wheels out from under him
, and the high wind buffeted the bike
, as if trying to push him off the road. Last night’s bad weather had just been a warm up for the real thing, and the real thing was nearly upon them.
Then he saw her, huddled up on the side of the road, sitting on to
p of her suitcase. She sat beneath
one of the large palm trees, but the tree did little to
offer her
protect
ion
. Her arms were wrapped over her head, trying to protect her face from the debris the storm whipped up around her. She hadn’t heard the bike approaching because of the noise of the wind and he pulled up beside her before she dared to look up.
Her eyes widened in surprise and she blinked at him, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Where he had only ever seen her strong and in control, she now looked scared and vulnerable, and it broke his heart. Every fiber of his body wanted to protect her.
He climbed off the bike and rushed to her side.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted over the storm, pulling her to her feet. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
She stared up into his face. Tears streaked lines in her dirty skin. Her hair was wet and matted to her face.
“I couldn’t get back,” she half-sobbed.
He held her at arm’s length. “Where were you going?”
She had to shout to be heard.
“Home.
My dad got sick.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
Her hair whipped around her face, threatening to strangle her. “I waited for you at the bar like we said, but you never showed up.”
“I know. I took a group out on a dive, but then the storm started coming in and we couldn’t dock on this side of the island. We had to dock over an hour away. I had no way of letting you know. I figured you would realize something was up and just go back to your room and wait. I had no idea you would pack your bags.”
“It wasn’t because of you,” she sniffed,
though he suspected
it partly was.
The storm screeched around them. The wind rushing through the fronds of the palm trees sounded like a waterfall crashing around their ears. Fallen palms were picked up and whisked past, almost hitting them.
“Come on,” he shouted over the storm. “My place is closer.”
This time there was no spare helmet, but Rudy forced his into her hands.
She tried to push the helmet away again. “No, you wear it. It’ll only be too big for me.
“For God’s sake,” he growled at her. “Just do what you are told for once in your life.”
Admonished, she took the helmet and slipped it over her head.
Together, they rode through the
treacherous conditions. Rain battered them and the fierce wind threatened to blow them across the road.
On several occasions, the wheels of the bike skidded beneath them. Only Rudy’s skilled driving prevented them from sliding off the road. Scared, Lucy
had no qualms about clinging
to him as tightly a
s possible, her face buried in
his back, her body pressed firmly against his. Rudy didn’t have a helmet on and she was terrified of what would happen if they came off and he hit his head.
They climbed through the island, toward the center. Debris littered the road, making it hard to distinguish the narrow dirt track from the undergrowth. On a number of occasions, they slowed to almost a stop and Rudy coaxed the bike around whatever blocked their way.
They had only been going for about fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours. When the trees finally parted to reveal a small clearing with a small wooden house nestled w
ithin it, Lucy was so relieved
she wanted to cry all over again.
Rudy pulled up outside
the house and helped Lucy climb off the bike. They ran under the porch for shelter and Rudy opened the front door for her. Lucy noticed he didn’t have to unlock the door first.
“Go in!” he shouted, still forced to fight the sound of the howling wind. “I’ll only be a minute!”
Lucy stepped through the front door and into the house, looking around her with curiosity.
The whole place was open plan. A big double bed sat on a raised platform at the back of the house, and the kitchen took up the far corner, with a breakfast bar separating the units from the living room. As far as she could tell, only the bathroom was separated by walls. The overall impression was that of a large New York loft conversion.