Dark of the Moon. Siobhan Curham

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Dark of the Moon - Siobhan  Curham Shipwrecked

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‘Ruby is very secretive about this place. She doesn’t like people turning up uninvited.’

      ‘Were you invited here then?’ Cruz immediately asks.

      Lola nods. ‘Yes. When we were travelling in Central America we met some friends of Ruby’s and they asked us to come here with them.’ She lowers her voice. ‘Michael wasn’t all that keen. He thought it was a bit risky, coming away with a load of strangers to an island in the middle of nowhere.’ She looks at me and smiles. ‘But that’s why you go travelling, right? To get away from the mundane and embrace the adventure.’

      I smile and nod, but inside I literally ache for ‘the mundane’. Since we set off for the cruise I’ve had enough adventure to last me several lifetimes.

      ‘But don’t worry,’ Lola says quickly. ‘I’m sure Ruby will be fine about you being here. She’s really cool once you get to know her, and once she’s certain she can trust you. Why don’t you go and dump your stuff in there?’ Lola points to one of the cabins. Thankfully it’s not the one Michael stormed into.

      I nod. ‘Sure.’

      We head over to the cabin, with the Flea carefully guiding Belle. Inside is sparse but clean. One wall is lined with a row of single beds. They’re made from logs and covered in brightly coloured blankets. In the centre of the wooden floor is a coarsely woven, yellow and green mat. It’s the kind of place I could picture Snow White’s dwarves sleeping in.

      ‘Oh man!’ Dan exclaims, walking over to the nearest bed. ‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ he says to the bed, removing his cap with a flourish. ‘I am Dan Charles and I’ve been dreaming of this moment forever !’ He collapses down on to the bed, wraps himself in the blanket and gives a love-struck sigh.

      The Flea laughs. Then he turns to Belle. ‘There are beds, honey, actual beds! Obviously home-made, but full of rustic charm – think Pottery Barn meets Jungle Book .’

      Belle nods.

      ‘What do you guys make of all this?’ I whisper, as I put my bag down in the corner.

      ‘Well, clearly our friend Michael has a few issues,’ the Flea whispers back, ‘and I can’t say I’m looking forward to meeting Ruby. But Lola is adorable and, compared to the other islanders we’ve met, even Michael seems downright charming.’

      ‘Well, if this Ruby chick does get all heavy about us being here, we can just ask her to help us leave,’ Dan says, his eyes closed and body spread, starfish-style across the bed.

      The Flea nods. ‘Absolutely. I mean, it’s not as if we want to stick around, and if she’s that uptight about keeping this place a secret we can just sign disclaimers and never talk about it again. I don’t care. Quite honestly, after the things we’ve seen, I’ll do anything to get out of here.’

      ‘Are you guys hungry?’ Lola calls from outside.‘Would you like me to make you some pancakes?’

      ‘What the hell?’ Dan is off the bed in a second.

      The Flea grins manically and even Belle smiles.

      ‘Did she just say pancakes ?’ Dan whispers, his eyes saucer-wide.

      ‘I do believe she did,’ the Flea replies.

      ‘You bet,’ Dan hollers.

      ‘Okay – coming right up,’ Lola calls back.

      ‘Do you think we should tell her what happened to us?’ I whisper. ‘You know, about Belle and what happened in the forest?’

      Dan shrugs. ‘Dunno.’

      ‘Maybe we should just play it by ear,’ Cruz says. ‘Figure out what’s going on here first. And see what this Ruby person is like.’

      We all nod. Then the others head out. Cruz and I hang back.

      ‘We need to be careful,’ he whispers, taking my hand.

      I nod. It’s exactly what I was thinking. It seems impossible to believe that, after everything we went through on the other side of the island, this side should be completely unaffected by Hortense. And not only unaffected, but some kind of peace-out, hippy retreat. It doesn’t make sense.

      ‘Do you think – do you think Hortense is still watching us somehow?’

      Cruz frowns. ‘I don’t know.’

      I force myself to be more positive. ‘But if it is all okay over here, and people are coming and going then . . .’

      Cruz smiles at me. ‘I know. Then we will be able to leave too.’ His eyes start to twinkle. ‘And I will have saved your life all over again.’

      I frown. ‘Oh really? And how’d you figure that one out?’

      ‘Well, I brought you to this side of the island.’

      I raise my eyebrows.‘That’s funny. I could have sworn it was a gale that brought us here.’

      Cruz shakes his head. ‘Yeah well, that was just – what do you say? A minor detail.’

      I start to laugh. ‘Hmm.’

      He pulls me close and kisses me lightly on the forehead.

      I grin up at him. ‘Come on, let’s go get some pancakes.’

      When we get outside, the others are gathered in the doorway of another of the cabins. It’s smaller than the one we’ve just been in and, once we get there, I see that it’s obviously the kitchen. The walls are lined with uneven shelves and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open when I see the piles of exotic-looking fruit and vegetables on them. The others are all looking similarly awestruck. Lola takes a clay pot from a cupboard and tips a pale yellow powder from it into a large bowl.

      ‘Corn flour,’ she says when she sees the Flea staring at it. ‘Ruby has a great farm here. It’s amazing. She grows all kinds of things. Even coffee.’

      ‘Coffee!’ the Flea exclaims. ‘Oh my, what I would do for a skinny French vanilla latte right now.’

      Lola laughs. ‘Well, you might not be able to get one of those, but trust me, Ruby’s coffee is divine.’

      ‘I wonder if it is as good as the Costa Rican coffee,’ Cruz says.

      Lola looks at him. ‘Are you from Costa Rica?’

      Cruz nods. ‘Yes. Do you know it?’

      Lola grins.‘Of course. It’s where Michael and I were before we came here. We did some voluntary work in San José. It’s a beautiful country.’

      ‘It’s where you were before here?’ Cruz repeats.

      Lola nods. ‘So, how do you guys all know each other?’ she asks, bending down to fetch a cloth-covered jug from under a counter.

      ‘We go to the same school in LA,’ the Flea says. ‘We’re dance students.’

      Lola

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