Dark of the Moon. Siobhan Curham

but it’s vivid blue.

      ‘At least we’re not being blown back to the island,’ the

      Flea says.

      Cruz frowns as he continues to battle with the sail. ‘We’re not getting away from it either, though.’

      We’re speeding parallel to the island now, past the beach and the cove and on past a craggy wall of rainforest. It goes on and on. The island is way bigger than I’d imagined.

      We all lean our weight into the sail, but it’s no good. The wind is like a force field locking it into place. Then it suddenly changes direction. The sail swings round until the boat is facing the island.

      ‘Oh no,’ the Flea says.

      ‘What is it?’ Belle asks.

      ‘Nothing,’ the Flea and I chorus, exchanging worried glances.

      ‘Come on!’ Cruz yells and once again we try shifting the sail.

      ‘Why’s it so windy? Is there a storm coming?’ Belle looks around blindly.

      ‘No, honey, it’s just a bit breezy now we’re further out,’ the Flea says. He turns to me and mouths the words, ‘What the hell?’

      I shrug. Fear takes root in the pit of my stomach.

      The boat is cutting across the water like a speedboat now as it’s sucked back in toward the island. But this time, there’s no wide beach to land on. All I can see is a forbidding wall of rainforest.

      ‘Shit. You think there’s gonna be rocks up ahead?’ Dan asks Cruz.

      ‘I don’t know,’ Cruz replies.

      ‘What are we going to do?’ the Flea says.

      ‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ Belle sounds close to tears. I go sit down next to her.

      ‘The wind is blowing us back inland,’ I tell her.

      ‘Back to the beach?’ Belle’s eyes dart from side to side. She looks terrified.

      ‘No, we’ve come round to the other side of the island.’

      ‘Hey, take a look at that,’ Dan shouts, pointing straight ahead. He’s pointing to a small chink in the wall of green. As we get closer, the chink gets a little bigger.

      ‘It’s an inlet,’ Cruz cries.‘Okay, we have to try and steer the boat toward it.’

      But we don’t have to steer at all. The boat is drawn to the narrow gap like a pea being sucked up by a straw. We all sigh with relief as we sail past jagged outcrops of rocks and into the opening.

      ‘Holy moley!’ the Flea exclaims. The inlet is so narrow the trees on either side meet overhead, forming a tunnel of green. A noisy chorus of squawks and screeches rings out around us, like a drunken band trumpeting our arrival. I look up and see two blood-red parrots watching us with beady black eyes. Their gnarled beaks are huge.

      ‘What’s happening now?’ Belle whispers.

      ‘We’re going down the inlet,’ I say.

      Belle sighs and closes her eyes.

      Dan takes his baseball cap off and gazes around. The Flea looks equally awestruck. Cruz stands at the prow of the boat, his shoulders broad and his back arrow-straight, as if he’s preparing for battle.

      My stomach churns as I wonder what might be waiting for us at the other end of the tunnel. I think of Hortense and how she looked when we came across her in the forest – her wizened skin and claw-like fingers, and the horrific rasping noise she’d made when she chased us.

      ‘Look,’ Cruz says, pointing ahead.

      In the distance I can see a glimmer of light. The boat carries on sailing toward it. I look around at the others and a terrible thought enters my mind. What if we’re sailing towards our death?

      When we finally reach the end of the tunnel the inlet spills out into a huge lagoon. The water is bright turquoise, surrounded by a high wall of rainforest. It’s like floating inside a huge green bowl and it’s so breathtakingly beautiful that for a second I forget to be scared. I figure the others must be feeling the same, as they’re all gazing around, open-mouthed. Only Belle still looks tense.

      ‘Where are we?’ she asks.

      ‘I don’t know, but it looks uncannily like paradise!’ the Flea exclaims.

      ‘We’re in some kind of lagoon,’ I tell Belle. I start looking round for signs of anything sinister. As the boat drifts toward the far side of the lagoon I notice something moving on the rocks at the water’s edge.

      ‘Look, there’s someone there,’ I whisper.

      ‘Who is it?’ Belle hisses.

      ‘I’m not sure,’ the Flea says, squinting toward the shore.

      We all sit in silence as the boat glides closer and closer to the land. Whoever it is they are sitting cross-legged on the rocks, facing away from us. All I can make out is that they’ve got cropped white-blond hair and deeply tanned skin.

      Dan looks at us. ‘Should we call out to them?’

      We all shrug, unsure what to do.

      ‘Well, they’re gonna see us soon enough,’ the Flea says, ‘so I guess it makes no difference.’ He carefully gets to his feet. ‘Hello!’

      The figure jumps up and turns to face us. It’s a girl. She’s wearing a bright coral sundress.

      The girl shields her eyes with a tanned hand and looks straight at us.

      ‘Oh my freakin’ God! I can’t believe there’s someone here!’ the Flea exclaims, looking back at us.

      ‘Yeah, and someone who doesn’t look like they’ve just escaped from the set of Dawn of the Dead,’ Dan says with a wry chuckle.

      The girl starts running across the rocks toward us.

      ‘Who do you think she is?’ the Flea whispers.

      ‘How the hell should we know?’ Dan says, raising his eyebrows.

      I look at Cruz. He shrugs.

      ‘Hello!’ the girl calls out as she reaches the water’s edge.

      ‘Hey!’ the Flea cries excitedly. He turns back to us, his eyes wide. ‘She speaks English!’

      ‘Who are you?’ the girl says in a clipped British accent. Then she starts to laugh. ‘I’m sorry – that sounds really rude. But – where have you come from?’

      ‘She doesn’t just speak English – she is English!’ the Flea whispers excitedly.

      The girl starts wading through the water toward us. Her face is a perfect heart shape and she has the kind of welcoming eyes and wide smile that make you instantly feel at ease. As she gets closer I see a tiny silver nose stud glinting against her golden brown skin and a bright-blue butterfly tattooed on her wrist.

      ‘Are you okay?’ she asks, her eyes widening with concern as she gets closer to the boat.

      ‘Yes, we’re fine, thank you. Positively brilliant. Well, we are now we’ve found you!’ the Flea exclaims in his best British accent. ‘I’m Jimmy Patterson, but you can call me the Flea – everyone else does – and it is very nice to meet you!’ He extends his thin arm over the side of the boat to shake her hand.

      The girl laughs heartily as she takes it. ‘I’m Lola. Very nice to meet you too.’

      She grins at the rest of us. ‘This is so cool!’

      The way she says it, so excited and carefree, makes me want to cry. It feels so long since we experienced this kind of normality, I’m not exactly sure how to react.

      Cruz nods at Lola,