I Will Survive. Samantha Connolly
Читать онлайн книгу.
She broke off, laughing. “Hang on, you are seeing it. Okay, I think I must be getting delirious from hunger, I’d better go and see what’s cooking.”
She put a hand to her hair, thinking again of her friends. “I was in the water so I might look a bit bedraggled but I’m feeling good so don’t worry about me…just keep watching this space! Uh…that’s it, bye. Over and out.”
She waited a moment to see if the red light went out but it didn’t so eventually she just got up and left the hut.
“NO WAY,” SAID CINDI. “It’s just not going to happen.”
Kenny panned the camera down slowly to zoom in on the squirming, fat, beetle grubs and then up again to record the contestants’ expressions of repulsion.
“It’s okay, I am going to cook them,” Nick said.
Cindi shook her head. “I don’t care. I am not eating those. They’re disgusting. They even smell bad.”
Malcolm rubbed his hands together. “Sorry, Cindi, but if that’s your attitude, you’re going to be easy to beat. I have no problem with eating grubs.”
“Wait a minute,” said Cindi in outrage. “We haven’t started the challenges yet, have we? I thought we were starting tomorrow.”
Nick was cutting up some sweet potatoes and he paused to look at Cindi.
“Why?” he smiled. “Would you eat them if it was part of a challenge?”
Cindi jutted out her chin. “Of course.”
Nick nodded thoughtfully and went back to work. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Cindi gave Jessie a look of dread, making Jessie laugh. She looked at Nick who put the potatoes in a large tin of water and started to cook them over the fire.
“Where did you get that?” she asked suspiciously, pointing at the tin. “I thought we were surviving from scratch here.”
Nick looked up, pleased. “We went beachcombing yesterday. Managed to find ourselves some treasure.”
“Treasure?” Jessie smiled, playing along. “Like Spanish doubloons?”
Nick pointed out towards the west. “Now that you mention it, there have been ships wrecked on the coral reefs out there so it’s not unknown for the odd coin to be found on islands in these parts.” He put up a hand to forestall her excitement. “But I was actually talking about treasure of a different kind. Like this, which as far as I can tell is an old paint tin. Don’t ask me how it got here, maybe someone was touching up the paint job on their boat. Anyway, to us, it’s a cooking pot.” He looked up at Malcolm. “Want to tell her what else we got?”
Malcolm didn’t hesitate. “A rope. About ten feet long. And not as rotted as it seemed at first.”
“Cindi?” said Nick.
“Don’t tell me,” Cindi said eagerly. “I know this.” She scrunched her nose up prettily before sitting up straight with excitement. “Ooh, I’ve got it. Two bottles. So now we’ve got something to store our clean water in and to drink out of.”
“And to send SOS messages in,” commented Jessie, earning herself a grin from Nick.
“And we got some different-sized shells,” Nick added, handing them around. “Which we can use as bowls and spoons.”
They took their eating utensils and then watched with quiet curiosity as Nick whittled at a thin stick, scraping off the bark and sharpening one end to a point. He picked up one of the unappetizing white grubs and, without ceremony, speared it upon a stick.
“Eeeouw,” howled Cindi, flinging her hands over her face.
Jessie couldn’t help looking away as well. Malcolm kept watching as Nick impaled the remaining grubs, but his face was a few shades paler by the end.
Nick grinned cheerfully at their reactions and held the beetle-grub kebab over the fire while he stirred the sweet potatoes.
He gave Malcolm the job of straining the potatoes and dishing them out, while he concentrated on cooking the grubs evenly. They crackled as they gradually turned golden and crispy.
Unbelievably, Jessie’s mouth was watering.
They all made short work of the potatoes and then Nick asked for a volunteer.
“I will!” said Malcolm.
“Hold on a second,” said Nick, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Whatever happened to ‘ladies first’?”
“Very funny,” said Cindi, grimacing. “Forget it.”
Nick raised his eyebrows at Jessie and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Okay,” she whispered, smiling excitedly at her own daring.
Nick held out the stick and Jessie hesitated for a second, then she reached out and plucked off a grub, closing her eyes as she popped it into her mouth.
It was succulent and sweet, like a ball of crackling pork.
Jessie opened her eyes as she chewed it. “This is delicious,” she said. She looked at Cindi. “Seriously. You should try one.”
Cindi put up her hands. “No offence, but I just met you and, frankly, I don’t believe you.”
Poor Malcolm was almost quivering with the desire to display his grit, so Nick took pity on him and handed him the stick. Malcolm removed a grub and then paused, a frown shadowing his round face.
“Are these high in cholesterol?”
JESSIE SMOTHERED ANOTHER yawn as she watched the dancing flames. She’d thought she might go exploring after dinner but in the end she just didn’t feel like moving from the fireside.
It was her first chance to really think about what she’d let herself in for. Her expectations and hypotheses had been inadequate preparation. In her imagination the other contestants had been mere ciphers, just background figures in Jessie’s adventure with Nick Garrett. A few short hours with them had cured her of that misconception. They were real people, with their own personalities and their own agendas.
Throughout dinner and afterwards, Jessie had been quietly studying them, trying to work out why they had been picked out of the thousands of people who had entered the competition.
Malcolm was so innocuous and eager to please that Jessie had come to the conclusion that he was there simply because he was the embodiment of Everyman. He was ordinary and human and easy to identify with.
And Cindi was obviously the sassy, worldly, city girl—a part she seemed more than happy to play.
But if they were dealing with stereotypes, what role had Jessie been drafted for?
She raised her eyes from the fire and stole a quick glance at Nick. He was whittling efficiently at some sticks, creating rudimentary forks and spoons out of pieces of wood. Jessie looked down again, grappling with her thoughts.
To her dismay, the mild crush she had on Nick Garrett, TV personality, had transferred itself directly onto Nick Garrett, actual person. Jessie had been prepared to be somewhat awed and starstruck on meeting him at first but she’d presumed it would only be a temporary imbalance. Unfortunately, there was no sign of it dissipating. She was trying to act normal but her heart still took on an erratic beat whenever their eyes met, and her capacity for putting together sentences, which she’d always taken for granted, seemed to desert her whenever he was around.
It was especially horrible because it was just so clichéd. He had all the ingredients for a male fantasy figure. His features weren’t perfect but somehow they added up to a face that was warm and welcoming. His eyes were very clear and intelligent and his mouth always seemed to be on the verge of a smile, even when things were going from bad to worse, as they occasionally did on his show. He was friendly, easygoing and genuine and Jessie found