‘It was fine last night,’ I say slowly, looking around at everyone. ‘Has anyone been to it today? Could the wind have done it?’
‘There’s no way this weather did this,’ Ozzy says. ‘The storm, yeah, but it’s been calm since. Someone messed up.’
‘Well, don’t look at me,’ Tony says.
‘I’m looking at you,’ Camilla tells him. ‘You were probably in there, trying to sneak another five bananas, and you left it open or you knocked it over – or both.’
‘Or you did it, to make me look bad,’ he replies. ‘Let’s not rule that out. You’ve clearly got it in for me. That or you fancy me, that’s why you’re always negging me.’
‘Oh, in your dreams, you horrible little man,’ she snaps back.
That clearly touched a nerve.
‘I tookonebanana,’ he clarifies. ‘One! Last night. And I closed the basket, without a doubt.’
‘Clearly not properly,’ she claps back.
This isn’t getting us anywhere.
Ozzy huffs as he paces back and forth across the potential crime scene.
‘Enough,’ he snaps. His voice is louder than usual, and you can hear the frustration creeping in. Well, you don’t mess with Ozzy’s food, it’s what he feeds his muscles. ‘It’s like someone doesn’t want us to succeed,’ he says. ‘Do I think it was intentional? No. Do I think it was one of us who dropped the ball? Yes.’
‘This is what I’m saying,’ Camilla tells him. ‘It wasn’t sabotage, it was stupidity. Probably Tony’s stupidity. Or perhaps…’
She turns to Honey, probably to accuse her, then thinks better of it.
Ozzy kicks at the sand, still simmering.
‘We can’t afford slip-ups like this. The food’s not going to last forever.’
He’s right. We all know it. If we run out we won’t just be annoyed. We’ll be screwed.
My stomach feels heavy, and Lord knows it’s not because it’s full, but because of the situation. It’s not about the fruit, not on its own, but more about the supply chain generally. Ozzy’s right. There’s only so much fruit on this island, isn’t there? I know, it will keep growing, but surely the trees and plants can only produce so much so quickly, and if we plough through it, well, how long does it take to grow back? How long can we last like that? And the same goes for fishing – the fish can’t be infinite, can they? My anxious brain is starting to wonder whether or not the fish get wise to the fact they’re actively being fished every day, and all take off together, to find somewhere new to live?
I suddenly feel very aware of how alive our food is, how precious it is too. How we’re all going to need to step up our game, if we’re going to make it last.
‘Okay, look, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is,’ Lockie says. ‘If it’s anyone’s. All that matters is that we don’t let it happen again. So we come up with better safety measures, or we perform routine checks. We can replace the fruit, no problem at all, but if we keep bickering and turning on each other, well, we’re just not going to survive. As a team, we’re strong. On our own, we’re weak. Except maybe Ozzy.’
I love that he adds a little joke to the end of his empowering and motivating speech. And he’s right about all of it (even Ozzy). We do need to stick to our plan; we’re strongest as a team. All we can do is replace the fruit – there’s plenty out there for now – and focus on our plan. Survival first, rescue second.
‘He’s right,’ Ozzy says, exhaling pure stress like he’s trying to expel it from his body. He does actually seem a lot calmer by the end of it.
‘I know it sucks, and that we’re all hungry now,’ Lockie continues. ‘But it’s done. We’ll clean it up, throw away the bad stuff, and replace it. I’m always happy to go off and find food.’
‘And I’m happy to help,’ I add. ‘And we know Ozzy is great at fishing. We’re going to be okay.’
I’m doing my best to join in on the motivational chat, but I think I’m trying to remind myself more than I’m trying to convince anyone else.
It seems like Lockie has done the trick, he’s eased the tension yet again, brought peace to the camp, calmed us all down, given us one shared goal to focus on, and it’s realistic, like getting food for the day, not wild, like hoping the production building has a helicopter outside with the keys in the ignition.
I watch him for a second, the way he smooths things over without making anyone feel small. He’s good in a crisis – and this really, really is a crisis.
‘Let’s just head to the old production building,’ Ozzy says. ‘If the answer to our problems is there, then none of this matters, does it?’
Lockie glances at me but I daren’t look back. It could be that he’s giving me a look about what’s going on, or he could have realised I was spooning him and holding his hand when he woke up. I don’t want to risk it.
‘Okay, let’s all go,’ I suggest. ‘Let’s stick together.’
