Chapter 2

It was a meagre existence, but when Lucien reflected on his new life, he realised he had everything he needed to survive. He’d even discovered how to create fire using two particular kinds of rocks—he called them “fire rocks”—which, when struck against each other, caused sparks to fly. It usually took several attempts, but eventually he’d have a small fire to cook his dinner on.

As the afternoon wore on, Lucien retrieved his spear from beneath a nearby palm tree and walked across the hot sand to the sea. He waded through the clear blue water, spying several fish that were too small to bother with, to the edge of the reef. He clambered onto the sharp rocks, stepping with great care. The elements had turned the coral into a hard, jagged platform that protected the beach from both the weather and sharks. There were, however, patches of slippery, moss-like seaweed growing all over it. One false move and he’d surely slip, landing on the coral with enough force to cut himself pretty badly.

It had become another of his habits to search the distant horizon for ships as carefully as he searched the rock pools for fish. For while food was important, getting off the island and back to civilisation, back to his family—which had, no doubt, given him up for dead—was of equal importance. And he’d prepared well for such an eventuality. At the slightest hint of a ship, he’d set alight the giant bonfire he’d constructed at the northern tip of the island.

After only a short time, he was fortunate enough to spear a large pink fish with enough meat on its bones to more than satisfy the gnawing, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. With dinner flapping about on his spear, Lucien climbed down from the reef and waded back to the shore.

“What did you get?” asked Edgar, who’d walked to the shoreline to meet him.

Lucien thrust the spear forward.

“Mmm. Nice,” said Edgar.

“Have you got a fire going?” asked Lucien, tugging the fish along the spear until it was freed.

“I didn’t know if you’d caught anything.”

Lucien’s lips tightened, though he held his tongue. He walked to their makeshift campsite in silence. He tossed the spear to one side and dropped the fish beside the fireplace, which was no more than a ring of small rocks in the middle of which sat a pile of coals from past fires.

“I’ll get the fire going, shall I?” said Lucien.

Without waiting for a response, he walked a little further into the jungle to a place where the sun had dried the grass to a light brown straw. It made perfect kindling. He pulled up a few handfuls and returned to the fireplace, laying the grass in a small pile at the centre. Beside the fire on one side were two fire rocks, and behind them, a small pile of firewood, ranging from tiny twigs to sturdier branches. He added some twigs and a couple of the smaller branches before striking the rocks together. Once he had a fire going, Lucien sat back on a mat of woven palm leaves to watch the fish slowly browning.

“Never has there been a more delicious aroma,” said Edgar, joining Lucien by the fire.

Lucien regarded him coolly. His only response was a rumble from his stomach.

“You think a fellow would get tired of fish every day,” said Edgar. “But I haven’t.”

“That’s because you never eat much of it,” replied Lucien. “And we don’thave fish every day. We had crab two days ago, and octopus a couple of weeks ago.”

“I didn’t care for the octopus,” said Edgar. “Too rubbery.”

“Yes, it was. I must’ve overcooked it.”

“I think you must’ve,” said Edgar and laughed.

Lucien glared at him. “Feel free to do better next time.” He turned his attention to the fish. “We also have berries for dessert, occasionally. When Ican be bothered collecting them.”

“Careful. You make it sound as if you do everything around here.”

“And how would I be wrong?”

Edgar looked offended. “Most certainly, you’d be wrong.”

Lucien looked him in the eye. “How exactly wouldI be wrong?”

Edgar’s eyes grew wide. “I can’t believe you have to ask. Why, I keep you company. I protect you.”

“Protect me? From what? The most dangerous creature on this island is a mosquito and I am well able to protect myself from them.”

“What about sharks?”

“We have an agreement. I stay on my side of the reef and they stay on theirs.”

“Well, there are things in the night. Bats and so forth. I stay awake and make sure they don’t bother you.”

Lucien shook his head and wondered how he had come to be lumbered with someone so lazy and so delusional. It was a puzzle with no answer. Edgar had simply appeared one day, smiling and at a loss as to how he’d come to be on the island.