His feet?
He blinks, frowning as he searches through his brain, trying to work out why his guide’s feet are making him feel so unsettled. A memory flashes back, of Anuman driving the minibus, shouting advice back at them.
‘Don’t go anywhere in bare feet.’
When they’d congregated in the hotel lobby in shorts and flip-flops Jefferson, in his sandy-coloured boots and long beige trousers, was the only one who’d received an approving nod.
Anuman was definitely wearing boots when they’d been cutting wood because he’d told Danny off for wielding an axe wearing flip-flops.
‘What if the axe cuts off your toes?’
‘Then I’ll buy smaller shoes!’
It had raised a laugh from Milo but Anuman had tutted and shaken his head. It was then that Danny had clocked his footwear: boots, old and worn but sturdy as hell.
But there aren’t any boots on Anuman’s feet now, and Danny can’t remember him ever taking them off, apart from to sleep. A dark thought forms in his mind. He’d assumed the boot prints were Jefferson’s and he was responsible for the spiders. But it wasn’t him, he knows that now. Jefferson’s phobia came true when he fell off the cliff edge and there’s no way he could have faked that. Had someone else taken Anuman’s boots off and traipsed around in them to make it look like Jeffers was responsible? But why do that? Unless they were trying to get them to turn against each other, deliberately ripping their already fractured group apart.
Chapter 23
JESSIE
‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’ I side-eye Milo as we wade into the sea. Our swimming stuff is back at the clearing, crammed into our rucksacks, so I’m in my bra and knickers while Milo’s wearing knee-length khaki shorts. My stomach feels heavy and bloated from the fruit we’ve just gorged on but I’m buzzing with adrenaline and nerves. ‘It’s a long way to swim and it’s going to be exhausting.’
He flings one tanned arm across his body and holds it there, stretching out his right shoulder. ‘I think you’ll find I’m in pretty good shape for someone who spent the first half of the holiday doing laps of the pool on an inflatable flamingo.’
That makes me snort.
‘Ready?’ I ask.
Milo doesn’t miss a beat. He plunges into the water and starts to swim. I leap in too, relishing the coolness of the water on my skin. After five minutes or so of steady crawl around the perimeter of the island Milo lifts his head and treads water.
‘You OK?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’ He grins. ‘Just slowing down for you to catch up.’
‘Catch up? I’ve been swimming alongside you the whole time. I’d be halfway round the island by now if I went at my own pace!’
‘Seriously.’ He presses a hand to his chest. ‘I don’t know how you used to do this for fun. My heart’s on overdrive.’
‘So we take it a bit slower. There’s no hurry, is there?’
‘I guess not.’
We swim in silence for a couple of minutes, the hot sun beating down and the gulls circling and squawking overhead. The island looks beautiful from the sea, the white gold of the sand framed by the emerald green of the trees. Anuman told us the owner rents it out for weddings too. Weird, though, imagining a bride in a white dress holding hands with her smartly dressed husband on the beach instead of a handful of teens in sweat-soaked clothes.
‘Milo?’ I glance at him as he switches from swimming on his back to a lazy breaststroke. Being in the water makes me feel more relaxed than I have in a long time. Braver too. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘Do you miss your girlfriend?’
‘What?’ He shoots me a sideways glance.
‘Bella. Do you miss her?’
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’
‘Potato potatoe. You haven’t answered my question.’
He stops swimming and turns to look at me, his brown eyes shining in the hot, midday sun. ‘Why are you asking?’
‘No reason.’ I drop my face into the water and break into a crawl, speeding away from him.
Why did I just ask him that? Is that what I’m about now – torturing myself? How did I expect him to answer?
Of course I don’t miss her. I’m in love with you.
I mentally shake myself. It was a stupid thing to ask and I only did it because there’s a part of me that refuses to believe that what happened between us on the beach on day two wasn’t just friendship. A stupid part of me. A very, very stupid part.
I power through the water until I’m too tired to swim another stroke and then I flip onto my back, close my eyes and let the sun warm my face. If there’s another group holiday after this one I’m pretty sure our parents won’t let us out of their sight.
‘Hey! You! Rebecca Adlington!’ Milo’s voice cuts through my water-plugged ears. ‘Are you trying to kill me or what?’
I turn my head, grinning as he splashes towards me – half doggy paddle, half front crawl. He rolls his eyes as he gets closer. ‘Hellooo! We’re not all Olympic swimmers, you know.’
‘Wanna take a break?’ We’re about a quarter of the way round the island and a tiny cove has opened up in the midst of so much jungle.
‘Definitely.’ He sticks out his tongue and pants like a dog. ‘I need a drink. My tongue’s like sandpaper. We should have brought water.’
‘There might be mangos over there.’ I point towards a clump of trees on the edge of the cove.
Milo nods. ‘That’ll do.’
We flop onto the sand, too knackered to drag ourselves into the jungle to look for water or fruit, and stretch out our arms and legs. Neither of us says anything for several minutes, then Milo’s stomach gurgles noisily, making me laugh.
He rolls onto his side to look at me. ‘What’s the first thing you’re going to order back at the hotel?’
‘Massive burger, fries, onion rings and a chocolate milkshake.’
‘You didn’t even have to think about that!’
‘I’ve been fantasizing about food for days.’
‘Me too. I’m going to eat a bowl of Thai green curry the size of my head.’
We lapse into an easy silence again and I dig my fingers into the sand, raking them back and forth.
‘Jessie?’ Milo says.
‘Yeah?’
‘You do think they’ll look for us, don’t you?’
‘Our parents?’
‘Yeah.’
I turn to look at him. ‘What makes you think they won’t?’
‘I’m pretty sure my mum and dad won’t worry until we’re at least a couple of hours late. They’ll have to drive to the harbour and get a boat. What if they can’t find us?’
‘They’ll find us.’
‘You think?’
‘Yeah, course.’ I say the two words quickly before my voice can betray me. The truth is I’m scared too. I haven’t even let myself think about how Mum and Dad will react when they realize that we haven’t returned from our trip. They’ve been through so much already they’ll fear the worst and… I stare out at the sea, focusing on the way the sunlight catches on the water, making it sparkle and glint. I can’t do it. I can’t let myself think about the anguish on my parents’ faces, or the fear in their eyes when they’re told I haven’t come back.