A crackle of static made her look up and she saw Alex reach for the walkie-talkie in his thigh pocket. ‘Alex Carter, over,’ she heard him say, sticking a finger in his opposite ear as he tried to hear above the noise. He got up from the stool and walked towards the edge of the hut. ‘Hola?’
He stood, his back to the room, staring out into the darkness of the jungle for a moment, then he stepped outside. Tara stared at the space where he’d been standing; the room felt empty without him in it.
She saw him pace past the door, his body erect. He looked tense as he talked to the person at the other end and she stiffened too. Was it the rangers? Did they have news about Jed?
‘Excuse me,’ she said to William, carefully putting her banana-leaf plate on the ground. ‘I just need to talk to Alex. I think he’s got news about our friend who was attacked.’
William nodded, watching her go.
She stepped out into the jungle night. The sky was a rich sapphire blue, the stars so numerous they joined hands and slipped through the air like sparkling streamers. A background chorus chattered, invisible, all around.
The conical huts were now silhouetted as giant geometric shapes in the twilight and she saw Alex standing with a hand on his hip, his back to her. His body language was spiky.
She began walking towards him, feeling her own tension rise. What had happened? Had Jed arrived at the hospital in time? The delays had been undesirable and concerning—
She drew nearer, hearing the static of the radio and then, only just overlaying it, a voice: ‘. . . was trekking into the mountains with Jed Alvarado, who was attacked. He was taken off the mountain but I need confirmation that she is okay. I need to speak with her. Over.’
‘And I told you, I don’t know who you’re talking about . . .’ Alex snapped, his voice rising.
Tara stopped walking. Wait, what?
The static crackled again, jarring in the soft night.
‘Dr Tara Tremain—’ the voice came down the other end, patient and insistent.
Rory?
‘—She was last seen at the rangers’ base station. She is thirty years old, Caucasian, English, five foot eight, dark hair, hazel eyes. Have there been any reported sightings of a woman matching that description? Over.’
She watched, dumbstruck as Alex’s arm swung down away from his ear, the walkie-talkie gripped loosely in his hand. He looked like he might drop it at any moment.
Tara couldn’t move. She couldn’t process what she was seeing. Was it the drink? Why would Alex deny knowing her? Refuse to admit that she was here and okay?
She took a step forward, silent, she thought, but he must have heard – sensed – something, because in the next moment he whirled round, eyes wild, a dangerous look on his face.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
‘Tara—’
‘That’s Rory.’
As if on cue, the radio crackled again. ‘Hello? Are you there? Over.’
Alex looked at the radio in his grasp, then back at her. ‘Now just listen—’
‘Why won’t you tell him I’m here?’ she asked, walking towards him again, stopping just a metre away.
His mouth opened, but no lie was fast enough.
‘Alex? Tell him I’m here,’ she insisted. ‘He’s worried about me.’
‘Just give me a chance to explain,’ he said quietly, his eyes burning into her so that she felt she could levitate from the ground.
‘Go on, then. Explain,’ she said, her voice shaky as a silence opened up. But no words dived into the silence. He couldn’t think, couldn’t think fast enough why he could reasonably deny telling her boyfriend that she was safe and right here, when there were other words that were going unsaid.
‘Give me that,’ she said suddenly, lunging forward and reaching for the radio in his hand. He shot his arm back fast, holding it up above his head, far out of her reach. ‘Alex!’
She struggled for it, not noticing how their bodies pressed together, her eyes only on the radio so that she didn’t see his head dip down, his mouth find hers—
Time stopped. She felt the world stop spinning, gravity loosen its hold on her, the trees, the grass beneath their feet . . . She felt like she was floating into space, up into the thick frothy galaxies, into the cocooning silence . . .
‘Hello? Is anyone there? Over.’ The crackle of static flickered between them like a taser.
‘No!’ Tara pushed him away, breathless, furious. ‘No!’
He stared back at her, his eyes shining. ‘That’s why!’
‘No!’ She couldn’t stop saying it, her only defence. She was undone by a kiss.
‘Yes. Nothing’s changed. You know it hasn’t.’
‘I’ve changed! I don’t want you! I hate you!’
He blinked. ‘No. You want to hate me.’
‘Don’t tell me what I want! You don’t know me!’
He saw how her hands were clenched, the whites of her eyes reinforcing the veracity of her words. Her chest was heaving from the effort it took to stand there and hate him, her entire being willed into a force field, repelling him away from her.
‘What I did—’
‘No!’ She put a hand up as if to stop him, even though he wasn’t moving. They were only words coming from him, but they were words intended to pull down walls, dig up the roots she had laid for a new life. The one without him.
‘—What I did was unforgivable,’ he said, his voice steady and lower now as he regained control of himself, his calm dismantling her chaos. He stared at her, as still as she was shaking. ‘No excuses, I saw an opportunity and I took it. It wasn’t personal. I never set out to hurt you and I never set out to fall in love with you.’ He swallowed. ‘I just thought I’d get close enough for an introduction and that was it. A shit move, I know, but I had my eyes on the prize. When I saw you in that newspaper article, I knew you were my
