Taking the Heat (26 page)

‘No. I'm beyond tears.'

‘Do you want me to play some sad music? Or I can call for an onion?'

‘Greg, I let you stay because I was lonely and you're surprisingly good company, for a soulless cog in this horrible game. Don't piss me off.'

He clicked off the camera. ‘Soulless cog? I'll have you know, I'm being listed for a credit as a fourth AD.'

‘Go to bed, Greg.'

Yawning, he said, ‘You're probably right. It's almost midnight and tomorrow's challenge is a doozy.'

‘What time is it?' I said, bolting up in my chair.

‘I don't know …' He studied his watch, tilting it in the dim light. ‘Seven, six minutes to midnight? Or maybe less, my watch is fast. Or is it slow …?'

My midnight fantasy cabin rendezvous.
Frantically, I ran through the possibilities.
Would Chris still go? Would I still go? Would I even want to sleep with him right now? What if he wasn't there? What would that mean?

I made up my mind. ‘I have to go.' Running to my bedside table, I snatched up my fantasy cabin key and headed for the door.

‘Wait up! Tara!' Greg pounded along behind me as I sprinted down the walkway.

I knew where my fantasy cabin entrance was—I'd passed the sign with the number FC15 on it when I was looking for Jen. At the time I'd studiously ignored it, but as I turned along the smaller pathway with Greg on my heels, I was very glad I didn't have to search to find it.

The path twisted deep into the undergrowth of the jungle, the night air dank and close. We reached an ornate wooden door, and I halted, suddenly terrified.

‘Are you going in?' whispered Greg.

‘Yes.' My voice sounded far more confident than I felt. Pushing the heavy metal key in the lock, I twisted it and pulled the door wide.

A short corridor lay in front of me, the walls and the carpet a rich black. There was no lighting to be seen. At the other end, a second door waited.

Leaving the first door open so I could see what I was doing by the pale moonlight, I walked cautiously to the second door, but the knob spun uselessly in my hand.

‘It's a light lock,' explained Greg. ‘It won't open until you close the first door.'

‘Okay. Okay.' I took a deep breath for comfort. ‘Greg, what time is it now?'

‘Um … it's one minute to midnight on my watch, so it's either 11:56 or 12:02.'

‘That's
really
unhelpful,' I hissed.

‘Sorry …'

I shut the door in his face and the room went dark.

Robbed of my sight, I put my palm on the wall and inched along until I came up against the other door again. This time, the knob clicked and the door pulled inwards.

I stood at the threshold, perfectly still, my every sense alert. Staring into the silent blackness, there wasn't even a glimmer of light or the faintest outline of a shape. Listening, I was certain I was alone; there was no breathing or movement other than my own. When I let out a ragged sigh of relief, my voice felt close and contained, giving me the impression of a smallish space.

There has to be a bed, right?
Keeping one hand on the door, I leaned forward, stretching out my arm. My fingers brushed something soft; silk sheets, slippery and cool. Experimentally, I felt the curved edge of a bed and, taking a leap of faith, I left the security of the door, bringing both hands to the mattress. Sitting softly, I began to wait.

It felt as if I waited for an eternity. My mind vomited forth every horrifying possibility while I sat, helpless in the dark:
no one will come, the wrong person will come … Dante will come.
The Italian's leering features swirled before me, his hands grabbing for my breasts while I screamed into the inky depths, trapped by him with no reprieve.

My heart rate and breathing both reached a fever pitch. I was strung like a bow, every muscle taunt, my brain flapping frantically around my skull.
It's way after midnight. If it was Chris, he would have been here by now. Get out! Get out!
I wanted to leave but my muscles were frozen.

When a door on the other side of the room clicked, I freaked out, instantly springing off the bed and launching myself at the exit.
Where's the handle? Where's the handle, oh god, oh god!

My hands finally closed over the knob. I yanked it open and fled.

***

Transcript of Tara M's video diary: Day 18

I was pretty popular in high school, mostly with the boys, but I had a few close girlfriends too—right up until the day I started dating the school captain. Suddenly, none of the boys wanted to talk to me and the girls were furious. I broke up with him after a few weeks of feeling like an outcast, but things were never quite the same.

Walking into the sandy lagoon area where everyone was milling around sent me hurtling back to my lonely Year 11 days. Contestants I'd considered my friends just yesterday were staring at me like I was anchovies on their Hawaiian pizza. Backs were turned, ranks were formed against me.
No one wants to be friends with the dirty two-timer …

I wanted to leap up onto the little raised platform at the front and scream,
That wasn't how it happened! Don't believe Miles and his screen of lies!
Considering all the loathsome things we all knew about each other, surely my sin wasn't that bad? But I remembered how quickly we'd all shut out Callum and the karma seemed to fit the crime.

Chris leaned against a palm tree, mouth-watering in his navy blue board shorts and Billabong tee, the look capped off by his serious, distant expression. His gaze fell on me and I waved, just using my fingers. He raised a weak hand, saluting me back.

Maybe we should just talk?
I took a single step towards him before Aanya appeared, sidling up to Chris and engaging him in conversation.
Right. That's how it is.

Clara was lying on a towel, sunning herself and staring adoringly at Toshi.
No point trying to interrupt that …
Jen stood alone, so I wandered over to her instead. ‘What a rough night,' I said. ‘I swear to God, people are being so judgemental—'

‘Tara, would you please find someone else to speak to this morning?' Jen's eyes were blank and she didn't turn to look at me.

‘Jen … what is it? You know me! Please, don't shut me out!'

‘Goodbye, Tara.' She walked off, and I stood with my mouth open, stunned at her dismissal.

‘I thought she might be angry.' Henry's gentle voice had me spinning around. With large sad eyes, he stared after Jen.

Exasperated, I said, ‘Everyone is angry! They're all treating me like I'm a freaking war criminal or Lindsay Lohan or something!'

‘Tara, I'm so sorry.' Henry's face was distraught. ‘I've been trying to talk to the others, explain how the footage was twisted. I even tried to talk to Chris, but … well, it didn't go well.'

‘Thanks anyway, Henry. That was really honourable.' I'd forgotten how much of a gentleman he was.

I'd also forgotten how attractive he was. In simple white shorts and a pale blue button-down, he looked like a movie star on holiday. His blond hair had lightened in the sun over the last few weeks and it stood up in cute tufts all over his head.

‘Henry! Can we get you over here for a minute, please? We need to mic you up.' A sound guy waved him over.

‘Don't worry, Tara. I'm sure they'll all forgive and forget soon enough.' He went over to the crew, clustered out of the sun under an umbrella, leaving me alone again.

Or so I thought. ‘
Ciao, Bella!
' Dante sidled over.

‘I'm not your
Bella
, asswipe.'

He laughed, wickedly. ‘You are not so popular today; now everyone knows what a
puttana
you are. Dante always knew though. He can smell it on you, rising from your
fica.
' He leaned in close and breathed me in.

Shuddering, I shied away, grateful to see Miles clamber onto the podium and give us our challenge instructions. ‘Good morning, team! Welcome to the Erotic Island lagoon! Just around the bend lies a man-made series of pools and waterfalls, winding around lush tropical gardens. Sounds perfect for relaxing, right?'

No one answered. We could sense a twist coming.

‘We've tipped twenty keys in the lagoon. All you have to do to claim one is grab it. Each key is worth a name for those who already have keys—and if you find more than one key, you'll be rewarded with more than one name! And because we're so generous, we'll even give you thirty minutes to search.'

He gestured to us to follow him. ‘But unfortunately, water clarity might be an issue today.'

The lagoon came into sight. Miles had described it well; huge, meandering streams and pools, bending away behind pretty gardens. Despite the artificial edges and sculpted too-perfect appearance, it was beautiful.

But the water … ‘What the fuck is that shit?' Clara, as usual, said what everyone was thinking. The waterways were filled with a bright purple gel.

‘Great question! It has many names: Jell-O, gelatine, jelly. Ladies and gentlemen, Erotic Island has just set the world record for the largest ever Jell-O pool! Who wants to wrestle? Touch restrictions are lifted from the starting gong to the second gong at the end.'

‘Really?' I was muttering to myself. My swimsuit was purple as well, which seemed like a win, and now, more than ever, I needed a key. But the thought of plunging into the slippery sugary mass was about as appealing as humping a cactus.

Especially considering my present company. Dante murmured in my ear, ‘Oh … what a
delizioso
idea! Who know what might happen under the surface, no? Stick close with me, my little
cazzo stuzzicare.
Dante will help you.'

‘Actually, no thank you, sir.' Blessedly, Henry stepped between us. ‘You see, I've already arranged to escort Miss Tara around during today's game.'

‘Escort is the right word for her,
frocio,
' Dante spat. Still, he moved off and I heaved a great sigh.

‘Thanks so much, Henry. I don't think he'll come back; you can go do your own thing, if you like.'

Henry looked wounded. ‘But what I want to do is make sure you're okay. I'd like to stay with you, if you'll allow it.'

‘Of course.' A ghost of a smile crossed my face. Maybe Chris and I were broken, and everyone hated me, and Dante was a douche, and I still had to sleep with a stranger, but with Henry next to me, things seemed okay somehow.

The game was ridiculous. At the gong, we all waded into the revolting purple goop, which smelled powerfully of blueberries. It was slimy and hard to move through, and all around us, people were shrieking and feeling each other up like horny teenagers.

I slipped over almost every second step. ‘Upsidaisy,' said Henry, after watching me topple for the fourth time in as many seconds. He looped an arm around my waist and held my hand. ‘Is that better?'

I was about to say,
No, I'm fine, you can let me go.
After all, it felt wrong to be handled by anyone but Chris.

Then I saw him around the bend. Aanya was squealing with delight, pulling him along by his hand, but she fell, dunking under the violet surface. Chris plucked her up gallantly and flung her across his back. She gripped him tightly with her arms and legs, pressing her face to his shoulder, a happy, indigo, Indian girl.

Tearing my eyes away, I said, ‘Yes, that's much better, thanks Henry.'

Sloshing around the cove, I let myself embrace the silliness of the situation, finding myself giggling and almost enjoying the feeling of the jelly sliding over my lower limbs. Working together, we managed to locate a key each, and were rewarded with two envelopes after the game was over. Clutching mine in sticky purple fingers, I thanked Henry.

‘I couldn't have done this without you,' I said truthfully. ‘God, I need a shower desperately.'

Henry's pale skin was stained a wretched blackcurrant hue. ‘You're not wrong; I feel like a Ribena berry! Can I walk you home?'

I'd been planning on trying to speak to Jen, but her fathomless eyes seared at me with hatred from the other side of the beach. Chris and Aanya were still chatting and towelling off. Everyone else was busy or gone.

‘I'd like that.'

On the walkway, Henry said haltingly, ‘Tara, I have to say again … I'm sorry for all the trouble my proposal has cost you.'

‘It was a sweet offer, Henry. I'm the one who's sorry; I've barely seen you for the last week or so. I haven't even thanked you properly for looking after me during the cyclone. Tell me, how are you doing?'

‘It's been … quite intense, really; that's the best way I can describe it.' He blushed, the colour evident even through his stained skin. ‘I've … well, I've been seeing someone. And it's been eye-opening and infuriating and spectacular and stressful and mind-blowing and exhausting, all at once.'

‘Sounds like my week, too.' I shook my head, thinking of everything Chris and I had put each other through. ‘Who is she?'

‘Um … I'd rather not say, if that's alright.'

‘Sure,' I said, trying not to feel slighted.

‘But it is wonderful to be speaking with you again. It always feels very easy between us, don't you think?'

I smiled warmly. ‘It really is.' Henry had never sent me off into a haze of infatuation the way Chris did, true, but if I'd never met Chris, I would have fallen for Henry without a second thought. He was kind and sexy and cultured and honourable. What was there not to like?

‘I still think we'd work well together, Tara. Would you consider spending some time with me over the last few days here?'

‘What about your other girl?' I said as we stopped by my door.

Henry stroked his chin. ‘Well, she's always been quite free with her affections. She's been very clear about the fact that she doesn't want to be tied to just one person. I've been trying to stop myself from becoming too attached, considering her… proclivities. I can't see her being too offended. Besides, I'm not asking you to marry me, or even s-sleep with me,' he stumbled over the word, still shy. ‘Just spend some time with me.'