Perfect.
Just…perfect.
He limped to Lost Baggage.
“My bag isn’t here.”Dan gave his details to the young woman behind the counter.She had a flower over her left ear, which, like her face, was coming in and out of focus.He tried to shake the fog out of his head.At some point during the flight, the sharp pains in his leg and hips had turned into a warm, dull ache, and everything blurred.Had he taken too many painkillers?Maybe.He also hadn’t slept in almost forty hours, and his stomach didn’t feel right either, thanks to the constant wafts of vomit emanating from his clothes.
The woman finished typing into her computer and looked up.“Your baggage is still in Auckland, sir.”
Excellent.
“Where are you staying?”
“Are Moanaon Muri Beach.”
The woman typed into her computer.“We’ll get it to you tomorrow.”She then sniffed the air and eyed the damp patch around Dan’s crotch.
“A child threw up on me,” he said.“Is there a place around here where I can get some clothes?”
“I’m sorry, sir.All the shops shut hours ago.But hold on.”She yelled at someone out the back.“Hey, Nikau, has that unclaimed lost property been given to the church yet?”
“Nah, it’s still here.”
“Bring it over, then.”She turned back to Dan.“You can take what you’d like for a small donation.”
A big, broad guy dumped a sack of clothes at Dan’s feet.Dan rummaged through it and pulled out the only clothes that looked like they’d fit.Loud orange shorts and a bright-red basketball top two sizes too big.But at least they didn’t smell of puke.
He handed over twenty dollars.“Now, where can I get a cab?”
“Outside, sir.But I reckon they’ll all be taken now.”
Of course.“How long before one comes back?”
The woman shrugged.“’Bout thirty minutes.”
Dan thanked her and headed to the toilets to change into his new clothes.A few minutes later, he stood at the taxi rank.It was dark, and a strong wind almost knocked him down.The pilot had said on landing that the storm would be hitting the island tonight.What else could Dan have expected?
He pulled his phone out of his bag and sat on the edge of a concrete flower planter, scrolling through messages he had no intention of answering.Without reading them, Dan cleared the notifications and then tapped a message from Femi, the youngest of his two sisters.
WTF?You’re going to the Cooks!!!
Ugh.Dan swiped the message away, only to see one from Gabrielle, his other sister.
When you said you needed to get away, we didn’t think you meant TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD!!
Doubleugh.He couldn’t deal with Gabrielle either, but after what he’d put them through these past few months, he owed his sisters more than just the quick text that he’d fired off in Singapore, telling them of his plans to join Mum and Aunt Zeezee.
In Raro now.All good.I’ll let you know when I’ve met up with Mum.
Their mother was still on one of the outer islands and wouldn’t be back on Rarotonga for another couple of days.Just enough time to get his strength back.
He fired off another message to his sisters, telling them not to worry.Although, as his sisters were ten hours ahead in the UK and most likely in the thick of getting their kids ready for school, they’d be too busy to see his messages, let alone have time to reply.Dan stuffed his phone back into his bag, praying the thirty-minute wait for a cab would feel like thirty seconds.
It didn’t.
An hour later, a cab finally rocked up.It was only a ten-minute drive to Muri Beach, but by the time they pulled up outsideAre Moana, his whole body had seized up, and his head ached so badly he could barely see.
He paid the driver and then limped to the main entrance.
