I Will Survive. Samantha Connolly

not going to cheat them by taking shortcuts. We’ve come onto this island with no supplies and we won’t be getting any help. It’s going to be up to us.”

      “Speaking of supplies,” Jessie cut in. “I was wondering if I could get a drink of water. I got salt in my throat and it’s also much hotter here than I’m used to.”

      “That’s a good idea,” said Nick. “Cindi, Malcolm, let’s see if you remember what to do. What’s the first step of purifying water?”

      “Filter it,” gushed Malcolm.

      “Right, and what do you do then?” Nick looked at Cindi who was fiddling with the skirt of her uniform.

      “Is it heating it?” She squinted. “I forget.”

      Nick tsked. “Okay, Malcolm can show you. Get to work.”

      Today maybe, thought Jessie. Her dress was beginning to dry in the sun and she was longing to have a look around the island. The beach stretched enticingly in either direction and she could see palm trees swaying in the distance. But she couldn’t concentrate on any of it when her mouth felt like it had an inbuilt dehumidifier. She moved her tongue, trying to dredge up some saliva.

      “What are you doing?” asked Nick.

      Jessie stopped masticating. “Nothing,” she said vehemently before she realized he was talking to the others. She coughed and mimicked his look of concerned curiosity.

      “We’re boiling water,” Malcolm said hesitantly.

      Nick walked over and kicked apart the embers of the fire. “I lit this fire,” he pointed out. “I want to see if you can do it.”

      Another milligram of Jessie’s patience slipped away.

      “So we need tinder materials,” said Malcolm enthusiastically. “And something to produce friction.”

      “That’s good,” said Nick. “I hope you’re paying attention Cindi, I’ll expect you to do it next time.”

      Cindi gave him a flirtatious grin. “I pay attention to everything you say, Nick.”

      “Apparently not,” he retorted playfully.

      Jessie fiddled with a strand of her hair, considering the possibility that she might actually shrivel up and die of dehydration, right there on television.

      She watched with mounting despair as Malcolm fumbled with a stick and a piece of bark.

      “No,” he complained to Cindi, “you have to use the dry moss first. Try and crumble it up into smaller pieces and hold it over to the side.”

      “You’re supposed to move the stick faster,” nagged Cindi in return. “It has to smolder.”

      “On a scale of one to ten,” Jessie said conversationally, “how bad would it be to drink salt water?”

      Nick smiled at her, evidently under the impression that she was joking. “About a five. It wouldn’t kill you but it wouldn’t do anything for your thirst, just make you feel worse.”

      “Worse than I do now,” murmured Jessie. “Imagine.” Her throat was so dry that she couldn’t even swallow.

      Another five minutes passed and Nick hunkered down to help out.

      Jessie looked out to sea, at the yacht bobbing gracefully in the distance. She glanced at Kenny who was quietly filming them. She looked down to the shore, where Lois was yapping on a walkie-talkie.

      She silently counted to ten and then opened her purse and took out the lipstick.

      Nick paused in his efforts and looked up at her in disbelief. “Making sure you look good for the cameras?”

      Jessie didn’t answer. She took the top off the lipstick and rolled it up, catching the matches as they emerged. She held one out to Nick.

      “Here, tough guy, let’s get this show on the road.”

      She couldn’t help smirking as his eyes widened in surprise.

      Malcolm barked a laugh. “Where’d you get those?”

      Jessie held up her sparkly evening bag and felt a glow of satisfaction as a small smile quirked the corners of Nick’s mouth. She rolled the matches back into the lipstick and tucked it away in her purse, then met Nick’s eyes.

      “Look,” she cajoled, waving the match, “next time you can light it from scratch but I really need a drink, right now.”

      The laughter lines around Nick’s eyes deepened. He took the match and started to scrape the waterproofing wax off it.

      “Are you going to keep calling me that?” he said in an undertone.

      “What?”

      “Tough guy,” he muttered.

      He looked vaguely uncomfortable, which Jessie found endearing. “I’m not sure,” she teased. “I’m kind of getting used to it.”

      Nick struck the match and Jessie gave a cheer as the small bundle of tinder lit into flames.

      “HI, EVERYONE! Uh…is this on? Well, I’m going to assume that red light means it is.” Jessie got comfortable in the seat and beamed at the camera.

      “Welcome to Castaway Island and this, my very first broadcast. I have to say that it’s quite strange to be talking into a camera like this but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” She waved cheerfully. “A big hi to all my friends back home in Iowa. Look, I made it! Martha and Sophie, I hope you’re being nice to everyone at work and hello to all the regulars at Fairbury Library. Janice, you’d better have one of your apple pies ready for me when I come home, something tells me I’ll have quite an appetite. Marty, thanks again for house-sitting and feeding Toby and I’d better have both a house and a dog when I come back. No wild parties, I mean it.”

      Jessie paused and subconsciously folded her arms. “And Tom, hi. Thanks for seeing me off at the airport. Uh…I haven’t thought…that is to say…what I mean is I’ll see you when I get back.”

      She looked down, trying to recover her train of thought and quickly found something else that bore mentioning. “Ah yes, my dress. Well, what do you think? Pretty glamorous, eh? It’s what every fashion-conscious castaway is wearing this season.” She made a wry face. “Don’t know if you’ve seen what the others are wearing, but I think I drew the short straw. I might have to steal Malcolm’s jacket while he’s sleeping.” She laughed. “Don’t worry Debs, I’m only kidding. I’m sure that neither Cindi or I will be doing anything to your husband while he’s sleeping.”

      Jessie paused, thinking. She wanted to make a joke about how the other contestants deserved the money so much more than her, but she was afraid that the audience might take her seriously. There was no point sabotaging herself from the start.

      She searched the sides of the hut for inspiration. “Oh, jeepers, I almost forgot.” She laughed at the camera. “And all you gals out there are probably yelling at me to get to the good stuff. Well, Nick Garrett is currently getting some food together for our dinner, which I’m really looking forward to. I’m starving.” Her eyes twinkled playfully. “But at least I’m not thirsty anymore. But I will warn you now that there will be a preponderance of shots of me drinking water. It is hot, hot, hot here. I guess that’s what you get when you come to the Tropics.” She looked up at the thatched ceiling. “Although, it’s not so bad in here. This shade is nice.”

      Then she realized she was rambling and she looked back at the unblinking eye with the red light underneath it. “Where was I? Oh, yes, Nick’s making dinner.” She hesitated and then resolved not to let the silly misunderstandings cloud her judgment. It was much too soon to be saying things that she could regret. “So, I’m here to tell you that he is just as handsome and friendly in real life as he is on TV. A little overeager in some cases,” she couldn’t help adding, “but that’s hardly a crime.” Her mouth curved