The Last Resort(35)

‘Got to watch the quiet ones.’

They take a drink, complicit now in their solidarity.

‘Still,’ Lucy says, ‘it’s the tech that’s weirding me out as much as anything.’ She taps the tracker, but nothing happens. ‘It’s incredible how it works – how we all see it through our own eyes . . . but we were seeing it as if we were Tiggy.’

‘I agree, for once.’ Scott sips his drink. ‘Deep fake or not, having my own personal video stream is seriously whack.’

Lucy spies Brenda leaving her sunlounger, and as she starts walking towards them she seems to be limping slightly. Interesting. What with her and Scott, they’ll be abandoning the injured left, right and centre.

‘So maybe she did something to Giles . . .’ Scott says, just as Brenda arrives back at the bar.

‘Don’t say that.’ Brenda shakes her head. ‘Don’t even think it. She’s a lovely girl. She was perfect company on the walk down here. When I first met her today I thought she was nothing more than a giggling airhead, but there’s a lot more to her. She’s got a savvy business brain, especially for marketing and branding. She’s not going to do something to jeopardise what she’s built.’

‘She’s got you convinced anyway,’ Lucy says. She gestures at Brenda’s glass. ‘Need a top-up?’

‘You know . . . could you maybe mix me something else? A fruit punch or something? I don’t know if it’s the heat or the walk or what, but I’m feeling a little woozy.’

‘Three glasses of wine will do that.’

‘It was a spritzer though, and not too strong. I’m sure my alcohol tolerance isn’t that low.’

‘You know what?’ Scott says. ‘This has only just occurred to me, but I’ve been drinking water all day, and now I’ve had two pina coladas, and I still don’t need to go to the bathroom.’

‘Just as well,’ Lucy says, surveying the beach. ‘I think our options are limited.’

‘Oh, sure. I mean, al fresco is the way, obviously. But I haven’t felt the urge, and I haven’t seen anyone else disappear off into the bushes either.’

‘You haven’t been with everyone all day though, have you? Brenda was off on her own. James and Amelia went to find her. Giles and Tiggy were away—’

‘Right. But I’ve been with you all day, and you haven’t gone. Unless you’ve—’

‘No, I have not peed my pants, if that’s where you’re going. But actually, you’re right. I didn’t drink as much of that water as you did, but since we’ve been down here I’ve had several cocktails . . . and alcohol usually does it. You know that’s one of the reasons all the kids are drinking shots these days? Less volume. Less need to find a toilet.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Brenda says. ‘They’d just rather knock their drinks back and get on with whatever else they’re doing.’

Scott sighs. ‘Well, whatever. I’m just saying it’s odd. I wonder if there’s something in the drinks to stop us from going. Something else they’re testing, maybe. For clubbers or something . . .’

Lucy shakes her head. ‘You know what? I think we must be in shock or something. I can’t believe we’re banging on about our bladder habits when we’ve just watched what may well be an attempted murder, via some weird sci-fi technology that shouldn’t even exist. Aren’t you two completely disturbed by this? I keep looking around and expecting to see someone jump out like we’ve been tricked by Ant and Dec . . . or Punk’d, like they used to show on MTV, or something. None of this is normal, guys. Maybe we need to think about what the hell is going on here.’

‘You’re right,’ Scott says. ‘That’s twice I’ve agreed with you now. I think I must have heatstroke.’

‘What are you suggesting we do?’ Brenda says. ‘We all want to get to the end, don’t we . . . ? We all want this thing to have been worth our while.’

‘True,’ Lucy says. ‘I suppose we all have our own reasons for being here. We know why we accepted the invitation. So maybe we just go with it . . . whatever they throw at us.’

‘We’ve made it this far . . .’ Scott agrees.

‘Fine,’ Brenda says. ‘That’s settled then.’

While Lucy, Brenda and Scott have been sitting around the bar, James and Amelia have managed to get hold of Tiggy and walk with her across the rocks back into the sandy cove. Her face is flushed, her eyes puffy from crying, but by the time they arrive at the bar she’s calmed down. The sun has slid behind a cloud, dropping the temperature just a notch. Tiggy is rubbing at her bare arms.

‘Here, take this.’ Scott unties his sweater from around his shoulders and passes it to her.

‘Thank you,’ she says, her voice a small croak.

‘There’s a coffee machine under the counter,’ Lucy says. ‘Let me make you a warm drink. Drop of brandy, maybe? You’ve had a shock.’

Tiggy nods, and Amelia leads her round to the other side of the bar, where there are two more comfortable-looking stools with cushions and proper backs on them. Lucy watches, impressed by Amelia’s calm way of dealing with the girl. She saw what Tiggy was like over at the rocks – a wild animal, shouting and waving her arms about.