Bastian seemed doubtful. ‘The roads aren’t clear yet and it isn’t an easy vehicle to drive if you’re not used to manual gears. These people here’ – he gestured around him – ‘need to get back to their homes. They’ve been off the island and want to see how their families have fared in the hurricane. I can’t go because I’m needed here.’
‘I can drive vehicles with gears,’ Cass reiterated. Was this the time to mention her off-road driving course, which had been pretty challenging? No. She held out her hand for the keys.
Bastian shrugged. ‘Have a go. Come back if it’s too difficult. The guys will help you clear the road.’
‘The guys’ seemed amused at the thought of being driven by a young white girl but Cass was determined. She could do this.
She was a little alarmed, a few minutes later, by the number of people who piled into the cab, filled the box, and hung off the back. She remembered what Ranulph had said about health and safety and tried to feel insouciant. This was all fairly normal here, it seemed. No need for her to panic.
To Cass’s relief, the young man sitting next to her in the cab, Jerome, spoke recognisable English. Everyone else spoke a mixture of French and English, very fast, with lots of slang, which she found very difficult to understand.
‘Bastian is famous for his pick-up,’ Jerome said. ‘He’ll give anyone a ride anywhere. His father was the same. I never knew him, but his textbooks taught us all in school. His father knew everything there was to know about Dominica and the Caribbean islands, and so does Bastian.’
‘Impressive,’ said Cass as the vehicle roared into action, her hands gripping the wheel as she realised the road ahead was completely blocked with fallen branches.
When she could go no further and stopped, everyone jumped off and started dealing with the branches with machetes, saws and even a chainsaw.
‘That was quick!’ said Cass when the pick-up was full again and the blockage cleared away.
‘They want to get home. They have supplies for their families. It makes the work go fast.’
‘Will their homes still be there?’ Cass asked.
Jerome shrugged. ‘Maybe. Traditionally built houses are better than the ones with glass and air conditioning. Bastian’s house is still standing because it’s built traditionally. This isn’t the first hurricane it has survived. Many people have a room built to withstand a hurricane. What you find when you come out of the room again is anyone’s guess. Although I heard that the hurricane wasn’t quite as bad as it was forecast.’
‘That’s something,’ Cass said. She paused but then asked the question that was filling her mind anyway. ‘Was your house all right? Or have you been away too, and don’t know?’
‘We were OK. We had everyone, my wife, her mother, my kids, their kids. We were all in the shelter together. It was a very long night but we survived.’
‘And were you frightened to come out?’
‘I was mad to get out!’ Jerome laughed. ‘Too many people in a small space! But when I got out, I felt wonderment. The world had completely changed. Now we have to cope with what’s left.’
‘You speak very good English.’
Jerome nodded. ‘I have family in England. I spent a year with them when I was a youngster. Now, we need to stop here.’
As the road was blocked with trees, Cass didn’t need telling. As before, everyone jumped off and out and started chopping and sawing and slashing. A fewpeople said goodbye and left the pick-up, finding their way up the hill to their homes. What they’d find wasn’t known, but everyone was in good spirits. Cass hoped no one would find that their house had been devastated.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It took Cass a little while to turn the pick-up truck round when everyone had gone, so she could go back to Bastian’s house. She was remembering now how mountainous Dominica was. The roads hadn’t been good when she had been here before, and they weren’t any better now. They were twisting and steep even without the detritus from the hurricane. One road had completely fallen away leaving only what felt like a very narrow ledge to drive along. She didn’t like heights and, when the road improved, she realised she’d been gripping the steering wheel so hard her fingers were reluctant to uncurl.
Although she put on a smile for Bastian, who was at the house when she got back, her legs were very shaky.
‘That must have been tough,’ said Bastian. He paused. ‘Ready for another trip? In the opposite direction this time.’
As she climbed back into the driving seat Cass wished that saying ‘no thanks’ was an option.
But soon she found she had got used to the roads, the drops, and the accent of the people around her, and was understanding so much more that sometimesshe could do more than just smile and nod by way of conversation.
A few hours later, Cass and a young man called Kai, in the seat next to her, were about to head for home. The sun would set soon, he told her, and they agreed they didn’t want to be on the roads in the dark.
They came across a knot of people at the side of the road and Kai got out to see what was going on.
He came back shortly afterwards. ‘There is a pregnant woman. She needs—’ He demonstrated a slice across his stomach which Cass realised meant she needed a caesarean. ‘She needs to get to hospital.’
‘In Roseau?’ asked Cass.
