Monkey Business (19 page)

For the next little while, we seemed to head north. I mean vertically. We were going up, up, up a mountain and I thought we'd never finish climbing. Up and over the mountain to the coast, apparently, where we would dump Kitty, bribe our way onto a boat headed for Indonesia, and hopefully squeeze in a romantic holiday in Bali before flying home to safety.

We walked in single file: Jack first, Kitty, me, then Joe. These were Jack's orders. Kitty walked easily in her stilettos, sometimes trotting to keep up with Jack. She'd asked for her Catwoman suit back and I'd said, ‘Over my dead body.'

And she'd replied, ‘I think death would suit you, Erica Jewell.'

I hoped the mozzies were munching on her bare legs. They were leaving me well and truly alone. My feet were much better, wrapped in Joe's sleeves, and I was happy to not be wearing those stilettos. I wondered if Jack had offered to snap off Kitty's heels, like Joe did for me.

The rain had stopped and we pushed our way through the jungle just as the sunlight tried to infiltrate the canopy. It succeeded in spots here and there, the light catching droplets of water hanging off the foliage so they looked like tiny light globes.

Jack wasn't being nice to me; I think he was angry that his mission had been ruined. I felt pretty shitty about that. He'd probably be dead if I hadn't come. Kitty wouldn't have thought to rescue Jack if it weren't for me. When I tried to talk to him he just told me to be quiet. We were all silent for a long time. I kept my eyes on Kitty's back, imagining taking the knife off Jack's arm and stabbing her but then retracting that thought because, well, yuk.

After a while I asked if I was allowed to talk yet, and Jack said, ‘No.'

So I said to Joe, ‘Don't you want to know how I found you guys?'

‘You already told me,' said Joe, quietly.

‘But I haven't told Jack.'

I peered over my shoulder at Joe and he gave me a look, and I thought I should probably stop being deliberately annoying. With that in mind, I said to Jack's back, ‘I want you to know I nearly had to have sex with a truck driver for you.' But there was no comment or change in his pace.

Kitty piped up. ‘What about Rupert Berringer? Did you like having sex with him, Erica Jewell?'

Jack stopped walking and the rest of us had no choice but to stop as well. He stood there, stiff as a rod.

Joe said, ‘Shut up, Kitty.'

Jack turned. We were all still and silent, watching him. He said to Kitty but pointed at me,
‘This
is the Australian girl you said he was with?'

Kitty nodded enthusiastically.

I was so horrified by the suggestion that my voice was barely a whisper when I said, ‘I didn't.'

I wasn't sure what I was seeing in those eyes of his – certainly murderous intentions, but for whom? Joe pushed past us and, with an arm around Jack's shoulders, kept him walking ahead. It was a good ten minutes before Joe removed himself as buffer boy and resumed his place behind me, but not before giving Kitty and me another disapproving look, just like the look I get from my mother. At least Joe didn't tsk.

At our next resting place, Jack took my compass and disappeared into the trees. I grabbed that opportunity to ask Joe, ‘Why is he so angry?'

Joe sighed. ‘So many terrible things have happened and he feels responsible for all of them. The mission failed, he got captured, then I got captured, and now you're here with your life in danger, and that's his fault. He can't deal with it.'

‘But it's
not
his fault. He didn't ask me to come.'

‘You don't understand. Where would you be if you'd never met Jack? You'd be safe, Erica.' He sighed again and I sat there, considering all that.

I stumbled along, struggling, but didn't dare fall behind. My legs ached, my feet burned, and I wanted to curl up on the ground, anywhere, and sleep. Joe would occasionally support my elbow, helping me when I tripped, which was often, but Jack behaved pretty much as though I weren't there. He wore my bag on his back; it was really a handbag but I didn't tell him that. Maybe I should have.

Kitty seemed to have no problem in her stilettos, but I noticed she was starting to slow. At one stage I'd elbowed my way past her, shoving her into the bushes, and pushed my hand into Jack's, forcing him to acknowledge me and help me along. Which he did, in a way, by letting me hold his hand. He even squeezed it. A bit. And let go after a minute, making me go back to my place in the line.

Along the way Jack and Joe had collected stuff we could eat – some scrawny bananas and a coconut. They'd also filled their pockets with red berries that we weren't allowed to eat yet. Jack had squeezed berry juice onto the inside of his elbow; Joe explained that if it didn't cause burning or itching, he'd put some juice on his lip and see what happened. I thought we should just feed the berries to Kitty and see if she carked it. The boys also found some protein. Jack peeled back the bark of a tree and there it was, in the form of squirming grubs. Big, fat, juicy ones. Watching that thing explode in Jack's mouth when he bit down on it, I knew I'd never kiss him again. Not ever. Kitty ate the grubs too, probably just for the fun of it or to impress the boys. I stood there gagging, quite comfortable with the idea of death by starvation.

‘Didn't Samson feed you guys?'

Jack snapped, ‘We weren't in a hotel, Erica.'

The light was fading. There was a sudden and terrible screaming, screeching noise, like ten million birds, insects, all kinds of creatures in pain. The noise grew and grew until it was terrifying and deafening. Kitty explained, loudly, about the locals and their belief that the animal spirits wake at dusk and hunt, which is why we weren't pursued back at Samson's. ‘They're more afraid of the animal spirits than anything,' she said.

‘When will it stop?' I said.

‘Soon.'

We arrived at a small clearing flanked by two trees, each with a girth the size of a small house. Jack indicated we should sit and ride out the noise, which we did, in a circle with our backs to each other. I put my hands over my ears. The cacophony lasted about twenty minutes, and died as quickly as it started. It was getting dark. Jack said we'd make camp there, although we had nothing but the wet clothes on our backs, my bag with its meagre contents – contents suitable for a party, not the jungle – and a knife, so I didn't know what he intended us to make camp with. A tent would be nice, I thought. And one of those showers you hang off a tree. And a portaloo.

Jack said to Joe, ‘I'll take first watch. Get Erica sorted.'

‘What about her?' I said, pointing at Kitty.

‘She's with me,' said Jack. Kitty squealed and blew me a kiss and I gave her daggers. She skipped over to Jack and took his arm as though they were off somewhere together. He shook her off and pointed to a fat old tree root. ‘Sit there.'

She sat, pouting.

I said to Joe, ‘What am I supposed to do?'

‘Sleep.' He peered up the trunk of the ancient tree with branches as round and thick as my father's stomach. ‘With me.'

‘Oh.' I looked around. ‘On the ground?

‘No. There's snakes, bugs, wild boar —'

‘Oh.' Goody. I let out a whimper. ‘Aren't there snakes in the trees too?'

‘Yeah.'

I waited for the ‘but' – it wasn't forthcoming.

Joe climbed to a low branch of the tree and held his hand down to me. I gripped his rock-hard forearm and he hoisted me up. I straddled the gnarly old branch. ‘Now what?'

Joe squatted with his back against the main trunk, knees spread. There was another slightly higher branch next to him, and he leaned against it. He beckoned, inviting me in. ‘Here.'

I shuffled closer.

He said, ‘Lean on me.'

I moved in, crouching between his legs, and curled up against him, my head on his chest. He put his arms and legs around me and rested his chin on my head. I peeked down at Jack and caught him watching us. He looked away.

Darkness fell on the jungle in an instant.

I closed my eyes, imagining that Joe's body was a bubble of armour all around me, keeping out the scaries. But then I felt claustrophobic at the thought of being trapped in a bubble of armour and I opened my eyes, sucking in air. I tried again. I was in a bubble of flywire, the tough stuff that burglars can't get through. That was better. I could breathe, although that hard flywire wasn't very comfortable.

I whispered, ‘What if something comes to check us out? Something like a snake, for example?'

‘We're not being threatening. No reason for anything to attack us if we're still.'

An image of a snake slithering over me in my sleep flashed through my mind but I let it go with a shudder, conjuring up the more pleasant thoughts I have when I don't like what's happening in my world. Usually when my boss wants time with me. Or when I'm at my mother's. And the thoughts I turn to are about Jack being naked. I didn't like him any more, but he still looked good. I wondered if he still looked good naked. I couldn't see why not. He seemed to have lost weight. Maybe I should give that a go – getting locked in a cage for a few days. I could sell the idea to Hollywood and make a fortune.

Thinking about Jack naked made snake thoughts come back and I pressed into Joe. I tried meditation. Being in the moment,
aware
of the moment, and after a few minutes I couldn't help being aware of the intimacy of this moment, and I was embarrassed, trying not to think about being intimate with Joe. If I'd felt in any real danger it would have been different. But I didn't feel in danger because Jack was down there and Joe was my armour. I felt safe, in fact. And intimate with Joe.

‘This is really weird,' I said, tensing up.

He huffed a laugh. ‘It's survival. Don't think about it.'

Survival. I can do that. I can survive. But that small issue aside, I did wish it was Jack sitting here with his arms folded around me, hard and strong, warm and sensual. Joe's arms were . . . dutiful. They weren't holding me exactly; they were just there. And effective enough, I suppose. I felt warm. And I did feel safe.

‘You haven't said anything about my hair,' I said.

There was a long silence, then, ‘There's been other stuff to think about.'

‘So? What do you think?'

Pause. ‘It's nice.'

‘Don't lie.'

‘No, really, I like it.'

‘Goodnight, Joe.'

‘Night, Erica.' He gave me a little squeeze.

It was agonising, of course, spending hours like that with the jungle seething around us. I couldn't possibly have got closer to Joe. He slept for a while and I felt his arms relax. I pulled them tighter and held them in place. I tried every trick to avoid thinking about it – the horror of our situation – and finally gave up, deciding that what would be would be, and this seemed to work. I nodded off for a while, curled up against Joe's great expanse of a chest.

I was woken by Joe gently pushing me away.

‘What's happening?' I said, sleepy.

‘Changing guard. Hold on.'

I shuffled along the branch to give Joe room to move. He dropped to the ground. I heard rather than saw him and Jack whispering to each other, and then Jack was with me in Joe's spot. Well, I assumed it was him. Couldn't see a thing.

Jack said, ‘Come here,' and I flopped against him, squirming to get as close as I could. He kissed the top of my head, squeezed me tight, and I snuggled closer, pressing my face into his neck. But it wasn't the pleasant experience I was hoping for.

‘Pee-ew,' I said. ‘You smell.'

‘You don't smell so great either,' he murmured. He sounded a bit friendlier. At least he was talking to me.

‘That's my insect repellent.'

‘It's not insect repellent.'

‘Yes, it is.'

‘No, it's not. I saw it in your bag. It's Indonesian perfume and it's disgusting.'

Well, at least it kept the mozzies away, and that's all I cared about here in the jungle, in survival mode. Although, this survival business didn't seem too difficult with Jack and Joe around. Jack tightened his arms around me, and I didn't mind the smell of him so much. I wriggled closer still and felt his chest expand and relax as he sighed, very deeply.

My idea of a perfect world is one where Jack and I are perm­anently entwined, disentangling ourselves only to perform necessary human functions. But I was so uncomfortable in that tree that I was happy when the first glow of sunrise lightened the canopy above. At least I was until I saw what was sitting there on the branch, looking at us.

I threw myself forward, screaming so loudly the monkey shot up the tree and Jack and I fell out of it. Poor Jack thumped onto the ground and I landed on him. I stood quickly, staring into the treetops as Jack staggered to his feet, saying, ‘Jesus Christ, Erica —'