Page 15 of The Moment I Met You
‘I don’t want to risk moving around too much,’ he explains. ‘I’m not sure why, but I think we’re in some kind of void here. Maybe because of the mining nearby, maybe just dumb luck, but instead of getting crushed, we fell into this hole – and that stone above us is keeping us safe. I can’t risk dislodging it. I have a less than cooperative ankle, and big boots. You, though, seem to be barefoot, or at least semi-barefoot. Do you think you could snag it?’
I nod, and concentrate as I twist and turn my feet, kicking off the other sandal. It’s awkward, and every movement sends another jolt of agony up through my arm.
‘Okay?’ he asks. ‘Not too painful?’
‘It’s not good,’ I reply, inching close enough to prod the bottle with a toe, ‘but at least I don’t have a broken rib. I had one of those once. I fell off a trampoline – long story, involving alcohol – and it hurt like a bastard whenever I laughed or coughed or took a deep breath …’
I’m talking to distract myself from my own discomfort, but I also want to acknowledge his. He is clearly not the kind of man to complain, but he has got to be in misery with all those injuries. We’re both in a bad state, and both pretending we’re not for the sake of the other. A mutually beneficial deception.
After a few attempts and a bit of swearing, I finally manage to get the water bottle balanced between the soles of my feet. I raise my legs up carefully, tugging my knees towards my torso, until it’s close enough that he can reach down and grab it. The plastic crinkles in his grip, and he sloshes it around to show it is still full. He raises it in the air and cheers.
‘Yay! We did it!’ I say, legs flopping back down in relief. ‘I think that was probably a yoga move … if it wasn’t, I’m going to invent it. I’ll call it the Cheeky Tortoise. What do you think?’
‘Perfect. Would madame care to celebrate with a drink? Finest vintage bottledagua?’
‘God, yes. You first, though. Your breathing sounds funny. I can’t have you dying on me; it’d be gross.’
He smiles, and takes a small sip before passing it to me.
‘Don’t drink too much,’ he warns, helping me lift my head enough to put the bottle to my lips. ‘We don’t know how long we’re going to have to make it last.’
‘That’s a cheery thought,’ I reply, giving it back to him after a quick glug. ‘What about food?’
‘We can go a long time without food,’ he says. ‘But as a matter of fact, we’re in luck.’
He carefully manoeuvres his arm so that he can delve into his own jeans pocket, and produces a small handful of treasure – four cellophane-wrapped boiled sweets.
‘I had them in there from the plane journey, for my ears? No idea if it actually works, but I always remember my mother giving them to me when I was little, when we flew anywhere. The habit stuck, I suppose. Orange or strawberry?’
‘Goodness. You are spoiling me. Strawberry, please.’
He unwraps the sweet for me, and we both lie as flat as we can, silently sucking.
‘Funny, isn’t it?’ I say, after a few moments. ‘How your concept of luxury can change? This morning it would have meant being back at my hotel room, lounging by the Jacuzzi on our terrace. Now, it means this – being alive, with a bottle of warm water and some boiled sweets.’
He nods, but stays silent. He looks thoughtful, full of focus and concentration.
I suspect he is aware of the same harsh realities as me. That we need to ration that precious water. Turn off the light to protect the phone battery. That his rib could interfere with his breathing, or my disgusting head wound could get infected. That we could run out of air before anybody can help us.
But for now, I think, lacing my fingers into his and holding them firmly, we can allow ourselves this. Five minutes of peace and rest before those realities take centre stage.
Chapter 5
‘What’s your name, by the way?’ I ask, once the euphoria of the boiled sweet has faded.
‘I’m not going to tell you yet,’ he replies. ‘And I don’t want to know yours either.’
‘Rude. I thought we were friends.’
‘We are. Survival buddies. But I think we need something to look forward to. So we can officially introduce ourselves once we’re out. When we are next sitting together in a beautiful sunset, and neither of us is in pain. Anyway. I have good news.’
‘Excellent – go for it.’
‘You know how I’ve been holding those sweet wrappers up and waving them around?’
I nod. I did notice, but didn’t comment – I thought perhaps he was just stretching. We have turned off the torch to save power, and now everything is cast with strange shades of half-light and random spots of colour.
‘I did a scientific experiment,’ he announces, deliberately making his voice pompous. ‘The results were conclusive. There is air coming in to our cave.’
