Love Islands: Summer Kisses

CHAPTER THREE

RACHEL WAS FURIOUS. She couldn’t wait to put some distance between her and Nathan.

She rubbed the palm of her hand against her shorts. It was almost burning. The contact with his skin, the gentle feel of the hairs on his arms underneath her hand was something she hadn’t been ready for.

It was hard enough being around him again. She felt catapulted into a situation she was unprepared for. In her distant daydreams, she’d been sure that if she’d ever met Nathan again she would have been ready. Mentally. And physically.

She’d be wearing her best clothes. Something smart. Something professional. Her hair would have been washed and her make-up freshly applied. She would have practised how to casually say hello. All her responses would be easy, nonchalant. Or at least rehearsed over and over again so they would seem that way.

She would have a five-minute conversation with him, wishing him well for the future, and then walk off into the distance with a little swing of her hips.

She would be composed, controlled. He would never guess that her heart was breaking all over again. He would have no idea at all.

But most of all there would be absolutely no touching. No touching at all. Because, in her head, that was the thing that would always break her.

And she’d been right.

Her hand started to shake. Rubbing it against her thigh was no use. No use at all.

Her footsteps quickened on the descending path. The beach was only a matter of minutes away. A few of the crew members were already on the beach, sitting on the chairs. But the truth was she couldn’t stay here for long. In an hour’s time the celebrities would be split into two teams and dropped into the middle of the ocean.

Their first challenge would be to row to the island. The winning team would be rewarded with better sleeping facilities and more edible food. The others would spend a night sleeping on the jungle floor. Just the thought of it made her shudder. The rangers had already pulled a few spiders as big as her hands from the ‘camp’ and a few snakes she had no intention of identifying. The book that Lewis had given her on poisonous creatures had photographs of them and then notes on antidotes, treatments and antivenoms. It wasn’t exactly fun bedtime reading.

She climbed up onto one of the bar stools, which gave a little wobble. It seemed to be designed for people of an Amazonian stature. She looked down to the sandy matting beneath her.

‘What’ll it be?’ asked the guy behind the bar. He didn’t look like a traditional bartender. He looked like a guy running between about five different jobs. Most of the crew seemed to be doing more than one thing.

‘Remind me not to get too drunk. I don’t fancy falling off this bar stool. It’s a long way down.’

The bartender smiled. ‘It’s okay. I know a handsome doc that will be able to patch you up.’

She shook her head. ‘Absolutely not.’ She held out her hand. ‘Rachel Johnson. The other doc. And, believe me, he’s the last person who’d be patching me up.’

‘Len Kennedy. You don’t like Nathan? I’m surprised.’ He set a glass in front of her. ‘Don’t tell me. Diet soda or fruit juice?’

She nodded ruefully. ‘You guessed it; I’ll be on duty soon. A diet cola will be fine.’ She watched as he poured and tossed in some ice, a slice of orange and a couple of straws.

He watched while she took a sip. ‘Nathan seems like a good guy. What’s the problem?’ The bartender’s voice was steady with a curious edge. But it felt as if he’d just drawn a line in the sand as to where his loyalties lay. Great. She couldn’t even come to the bar for a drink.

She gave her shoulders a shrug and took a sip through her straw. ‘Some might say it’s ancient history.’

Her eyes met the guy in front of her. He was handsome, but a little rough around the edges. A scar snaked from his wrist to his elbow, he had a closely shorn head, a few days’ worth of stubble and eyes that had seen things they shouldn’t. She wondered what his story was.

He gave her a knowing kind of smile. ‘Then maybe that’s the best place to leave it. Sometimes history should be just that—history.’

She’d been wrong. He didn’t seem like a crazy crew member. He was a typical bartender. The kind that seemed to be able to read your mind and tell you exactly what you didn’t want to hear.

She looked out at the perfect ocean. This place might not have the luxury facilities she’d been promised. But it was an incredibly beautiful setting. The kind of place where you should relax and chill out. The kind of place that probably had the most gorgeous sunsets in the world. She gave a sigh. ‘Sometimes history is too hard to let go of.’

Len put another glass on the bar and filled it with lemonade. He held it up to hers. She hesitated, then held up her glass and chinked it against his. He smiled. ‘Maybe you should look at this a new way. Maybe it was fate that you both ended up here at the same time.’

Fate. More like an interfering friend. She arched her back, her hand instantly going to the skin there, tracing a line along her own scar. She hadn’t thought for a second Nathan would be here. Her backpack had two bikinis that she’d never wear in front of him; they’d have to spend the next three weeks languishing at the bottom of her bag. She didn’t want him asking any questions. She didn’t want to explain her scar. It went hand in hand with her relationship with Darius. Things he didn’t need to know about.

She didn’t really want to consider fate. It didn’t seem like her friend.

She smiled at Len. ‘So what are your duties around here? I haven’t had a chance to look around much yet.’

‘Apparently I tend the bar, refill the drinks, supply ice and help the crew with setting up some of the tasks.’ He took another sip of his drink. ‘I’ve got experience in rock climbing. They said it would be useful for one of their tasks.’

Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘You might have experience rock climbing but I’m betting none of the celebrities have. How safe is it to make them do something like that?’

Len shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. I’m just the extra pair of hands. I’m assuming they’ll have a safety briefing before they start. At least I hope they will.’

Rachel gave a sigh and looked out over the perfect blue Coral Sea. This place really could be an island paradise. She rested her head on her hands. ‘What on earth have I got myself into?’

Len laughed. He raised his glass again and gave her a worldly-wise gaze. ‘Probably a whole load of trouble.’

She lifted her glass again and clinked it against his. She had a sinking feeling he could be right.

CHAPTER FOUR

RACHEL WATCHED AS the celebrities rowed towards the island. At least that was what she thought they were trying to do.

‘There’s going to need to be some serious editing,’ said the quiet voice behind her. ‘This is really quite boring.’

She didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. She could actually feel his presence right behind her.

He was right. The journey to the island didn’t seem like much of a journey. They’d been put into two boats and asked to row ashore as if they’d done it from the mainland. The truth was they were only a few hundred yards away. The boat with the sportsman Frank Cairns was already miles in front of the other. On a hot day his patience was obviously at an all-time low and he’d decided to do most of the rowing himself. His fellow celebs arrived onshore with big smiles on their faces.

The second boat arrived filled with long, grumpy faces and instant moans. ‘My agent said I wouldn’t have to do anything like this,’ moaned Dazzle.

‘Your agent lied,’ muttered Pauline Wilding, the politician. ‘Haven’t you learned anything yet?’

The male and female TV presenters appeared, trying to placate the celebrities and keep the atmosphere light. Rachel scanned her eyes over them all. One of the older women was limping already. The trek through the forest to the campsite wouldn’t help.

Darius appeared comfortable. The row didn’t seem to have bothered him in the slightest. It made her feel a little easier. Everywhere she looked she could see potential problems. Scratches and bites that could become infected. Lack of proper nutrition. Contaminants from the horrible toilet the celebrities would need to use. If Darius had asked her if this was a good idea—she would have told him to run a million miles away.

If any patient who’d just finished another dose of chemotherapy had asked if they should come here she would give a resounding no. A relaxing holiday in the Whitsunday islands on a luxury resort was one thing. Being dumped in a jungle to sleep for the next three weeks was another thing entirely.

She’d been lucky. She’d only had to take a year out of her medical career. A long, hard year involving surgery to remove her cancerous kidney; chemotherapy, radiotherapy and annual check-ups for five years.

Darius hadn’t been so lucky. They’d met in the cancer centre, with her fighting renal cancer and him fighting non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He’d relapsed twice since, each time becoming a little sicker than the last.

What the world didn’t know was that Darius really hadn’t been her lover. He’d been her friend. Her confidant in a place she’d just moved to without any real friends.

Nathan had no idea why she’d left. He’d just lost his parents and realised he needed to be his brother’s guardian for the next two years. She hadn’t mentioned any of the symptoms she’d had—the blood in her urine, the sick feeling and loss of appetite. They’d both been so busy in their first year as junior doctors that she’d barely had time to think much about her symptoms. A simple urine test dipstick on the ward had made her realise she needed to get some professional advice. But then Nathan’s parents had been killed and they were both left stunned.

She’d held him while he’d sobbed and tried to arrange a joint funeral and sort out all the family finances. He’d just lost two people he loved. She’d nearly forgotten about her investigatory renal ultrasound. When her diagnosis had come she couldn’t possibly tell him. She couldn’t put him and Charlie through that. They needed time to recover. Time to find themselves. Charlie needed healthy people around him. Nathan needed to concentrate on getting his life back and learning how to be a parent to his brother.

Neither of them needed the uncertainty of someone with a cancer diagnosis. So she’d done the only thing that seemed right. She’d phoned her mother in Australia and made contact with the local cancer unit over there. Her notes transferred and her treatment planned, she’d bought her plane ticket and packed her case.

Australia had always been on the cards for Nathan and Rachel. They’d applied together. They’d meant to go together. But the death of Nathan’s parents meant all those plans had to be shelved.

It was too risky to stay in England and be treated. Someone, somewhere, would have come across her and word would have got back to Nathan. She didn’t want that. She loved him with her whole heart. He, and Charlie, had been through enough. She knew the risks of renal cell carcinoma. Not everyone survived. She couldn’t take the risk of putting Nathan and Charlie through that.

And she knew Nathan better than he knew himself. At the time of his parents’ death he’d tried so hard to be composed, to keep on top of things. This would have been the final push. Nathan would have stood by her—of that she had absolutely no doubt. No matter how hard she tried to push him away, he would have been by her side every step of the way.

In a way, she hadn’t felt strong enough to be brave for herself and for Nathan too. She had to be selfish. She had to put herself first.

So that was what she’d done. She’d bought her ticket and gone to the ward where Nathan was working to let him know she was leaving.

It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She’d been flippant, matter-of-fact. A job opportunity had arisen in Australia that was too good to give up. She didn’t want to cause a scene so she hadn’t warned him.

He’d be fine. Charlie would be fine. They’d been together too long. They both needed some space apart. She’d wished him and Charlie well for the future.

Her legs had been shaking as she’d made that final walk down the corridor, knowing that every single word that had come from her mouth had been a lie.

Horrible heartless lies that had hurt the person she loved.

No wonder Nathan couldn’t bear to be around her.

No wonder at all.

Nathan was watching the celebrities crossing the swinging bridge made of rope and planks of wood suspended sixty feet above the jungle canopy. Any minute now …

Right on cue, one of them vomited over the bridge, clinging on for all she was worth. He couldn’t stifle the laugh. He shouldn’t really find it funny. But it was ridiculous. None of them had expressed a fear of heights.

It took nearly an hour for all nine celebrities to cross the bridge. It reminded him of the hysteria he’d witnessed as a student doctor at a school immunisation session when one teenage girl after another had a panic attack in the waiting room. The celebrities’ legs seemed to have turned to jelly and even some of the guys made a meal of it.

Darius wasn’t one of them. Neither was the sportsman. Both walked over the bridge as if they were crossing the street. Darius was beginning to pique Nathan’s curiosity. What had Rachel seen in the guy? And why was he so stoic? He didn’t seem fazed by the jungle—or the potential challenges. It was as if he had so much more to worry about.

There was a yell behind him and he spun around. A few other shouts followed and his legs moved automatically, crashing a path through the jungle towards the noise.

It only took him a few seconds to reach a scene of chaos. Some of the crew had obviously been transporting equipment and a whole pile of barrels that had previously been in a tower were spilled all over the ground.

‘What’s wrong? Is someone hurt?’

‘It’s Jack,’ yelled one of the burlier men as he grabbed hold of one of the barrels and tried to move it aside. ‘He’s caught underneath.’

Nathan didn’t hesitate. First priority—get to the patient. There was no way to see or assess how Jack was right now, so he used his muscle power to grab an end of one of the barrels to try and throw them out of the way. The weight of each of the barrels was extreme. ‘What on earth is in these?’ he grunted.

‘Sand.’

‘What? Why on earth do we have barrels filled with sand?’

The muscles in his arms were starting to burn as he kept pace with the others grabbing barrels and moving them away from the site.

‘For one of the challenges,’ shouted the crew guy.

There was a flash of pink near to him, then a figure shot past him and wriggled in between some of the barrels. ‘Stop!’ came a yell.

He moved forward, crouching down. ‘Rachel, what on earth are you doing?’

He could only see the soles of her boots as she continued to wiggle forward, her slim body and hips pushing sideways through the barrels. None of the rest of the crew could have fitted.

Her voice seemed to echo quietly back to him, reverberating off the curved sides of the barrels. ‘I’ve got him. He’s unconscious. Give me a second.’

The site director appeared next to Nathan, talking incessantly in his ear. Health and Safety … not safe … insurance … liability …

‘Shut up,’ said Nathan sharply, tuning the man out.

‘Rachel. How are you doing in there?’

There was a creak above him and several of the crew ran forward with their hands above their heads. ‘Watch out, Doc. Some of these are going to go.’

Of course. They’d been so close they couldn’t see the bigger picture. They’d been so quick to think about getting to Jack they hadn’t considered the swaying semi-collapsed tower.

Rachel gave a little squeak. ‘He’s breathing. But he’s unconscious,’ she shouted. ‘Definite sign of a head injury with a head lac, and a possible fractured ulna and radius.’

‘Any other injuries?’

‘Give me a sec. I can’t see his legs but I can feel his pelvis and abdomen.’ Nathan held his breath. His brain was trying to calculate how long it would take to medevac someone out of here. A few seconds later she shouted again. ‘His pelvis seems intact and his abdomen is soft. But there’s a few barrels right above us that look ready to come crashing down. Do you have anything we can use to keep us safe?’

Nathan started shouting to the crew. ‘We need something to put over Jack and the doc. What do we have?’

A few members of the crew pointed to some piles of wood. But there was no chance of squeezing those in amongst the barrels. Nathan’s brain was working frantically. Yesterday, he’d read a list of the challenges that the celebrities would do over the next few weeks. It sparked something in his brain. ‘Wait a minute. What about the inflatables for the water challenge later—anyone know where those are?’

He hadn’t even seen them but, from what he could remember about the challenge, they might help.

Ron’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes! They’ll be perfect!’ He turned on his heel and ran towards one of the equipment storage cabins.

Nathan’s black medical bag thumped down beside him. He didn’t even know who’d brought it. He just stuck his hand inside and pulled out a stethoscope. He ran forward and threw the stethoscope inside. ‘Rach, can you sound his chest?’

There was a muffled response. Ron and the others were still running around. The feeling of camaraderie struck him. When something happened, all hands were on deck. He didn’t know most of these people. He could count on one hand how many names he knew. But it didn’t matter; everyone was working towards one purpose and that he could understand. It had been the way of his life for five years in Doctors Without Borders.

Ron stopped next to him, clearly out of breath—he’d need to remember to check him over later. ‘We’ve got them—almost like giant sausages. They’re thin enough when they’re deflated to wiggle them through next to the doc.’

‘How do you inflate them?’ His brain was starting to see where this could go.

‘With a pressure machine.’

‘How quickly can they go up?’

‘Within ten seconds.’

He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘When that inflates will it push all those barrels outwards?’ How on earth could he keep Rachel and Jack safe?

He turned to the technician next to him. His logical brain was trying to calculate how to do this. ‘Put one on either side. They stay in the middle. That way, all the barrels will fall outwards.’ At least he hoped and prayed they would. He glanced at the anxious face next to him. ‘What do you think?’

Ron gave a small nod. ‘I think you’re a genius, Doc. Let’s get to work, guys.’

They moved quickly, trying to get things in position.

Nathan took a deep breath and moved forward. ‘Rach?’

Her voice echoed towards him. She sounded stressed. Climbing in amongst the barrels was probably starting to feel like a bad idea. ‘It’s harder than I thought. Chest clear and inflating on one side, but I can’t get access to the other—he’s lying on that side.’ There was a definite waver in her voice. What he really wanted to do was crawl in beside her. But unless that space got about two foot wider there was no physical possibility of that—not without putting the already teetering pile at further risk.

He signalled to Ron. ‘How soon will you be ready?’

Ron’s face was red and sweating. He gestured towards the other guys. It might look like chaos around them but everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing. They all had a purpose. ‘Two minutes.’

Nathan crouched down, pushing himself as close to the entrance as he could. ‘Good. Rach, listen to me. We need to get you and Jack out of there. The barrels aren’t safe; they could fall at any minute. But we think we’ve got something that could help.’

‘What is it?’

‘Ron and the guys are going to manoeuvre some inflatables in beside you. They’re rolled up like sausages and should squeeze through the gap. One will be in front of you and Jack, and the other behind. I’ll give you a signal and we’ll flick the switch to inflate them. It’s quick. It only takes ten seconds, and once they inflate they should push all the surrounding barrels outwards. You need to keep your head down. Are you okay with that?’

‘Is there any other option?’ Her voice sounded shaky.

Nathan bit his lip. He was trying to make it sound as if this was perfectly planned when they both knew it wasn’t. ‘This is the quickest and safest option. You’ll be out of there soon.’ He switched back to doctor mode. ‘How’s the patient?’

He tried to shut out all the outside noise and just focus on her. How was she feeling in there? Any minute now the whole pile could come crashing down on top of her. He didn’t even want to give that head space. He couldn’t give that head space. Because it might actually make his hands shake. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen her in years. It didn’t matter he had all this pent-up frustration and rage wrapped up in memories of her. This was Rachel.

He didn’t want her to come to any harm. No matter what else went on in this world. He couldn’t push aside his protective impulses towards her. He didn’t dare to think about anything happening to her.

He’d just managed to see her for the first time in eight years. And, no matter how he felt about anything, he wasn’t ready for that to be over.

Her bravado was obviously starting to crash. ‘He’s still unconscious. We’ll be able to assess him better when we get out.’

Ron tapped him on the shoulder, standing in position with the bright yellow, tightly coiled inflatables in the crew’s hands.

‘Rach, hold on. Ron’s ready. Get yourself in position.’

He couldn’t imagine what it must be like in there with the heavy barrels stacked all around. It took a good ten minutes for Ron and the rest of the crew to slowly edge the giant sausage-like inflatables into position and connect them to the air pressure machines.

It was the first time in his life Nathan had ever cursed his muscular frame. He should be the one in there. Not her.

He spoke in a low voice. ‘Are you sure the rest of the barrels will fall outwards? None are going to land on them?’

Ron met his gaze; there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. ‘I’m as sure as you are.’

Nathan glanced towards the crew member standing with his hand on the air pressure machine. ‘Get back,’ he yelled to the rest of the crew members, who scattered like leaves on a blustery day.

Nathan couldn’t help himself. He rushed forward as he signalled to the crew guy. ‘Now, Rach,’ he shouted. ‘Get your head down!’

Strong arms pulled him backwards just as the switches on the machine were thrown. It was only ten seconds. But it felt like so much longer.

The giant sausages started to inflate, pushing everything around them outwards. The barrels teetering at the top started to rumble and fall, cascading like a champagne tower. Nathan couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if everything was happening in slow motion.

One blue barrel after another thudded heavily to the ground, some landing on their side and rolling forwards, gathering momentum as the crew dived out of their path. From beneath the pile the thick yellow PVC was emerging, continuing to throw the blue barrels outwards as the air gathered inside.

Relief. He didn’t even want to consider what might have happened. As the last barrel rolled past, Nathan sprinted towards the yellow PVC, crossing the ground quickly. He could hear the thuds behind him and knew that the rest of the crew were on his heels but it didn’t stop him bounding over the thick inflatable.

Rachel was still crouched behind it; her body over the top of Jack’s, protecting him from any falling debris. Her head was leaning over his, with her hands over the top of her head. The other yellow inflatable had protected them from behind, creating the shelter that Nathan had hoped it would.