Bright red.
“What the hell is Poppy playing at?” Annabel says, standing and running her fingers through her hair, a common nervous habit of hers. “Why would she make red lipstick of all things part of the scavenger hunt? She knows what we’ll think when we see this.”
The images come back to me as if it happened yesterday. The lipstick. Our laughter. The teasing that followed. Her humiliation.
“She’s sick.” Annabel’s voice is tight with tension. “She’s trying to get a reaction out of us. Well, it won’t work.”
“You’re right.” Fingers trembling, I open the envelope for the next clue.
“What are you doing?”
I look up to find Annabel’s face white with anger. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not seriously carrying on with her stupid game?”
“What other option do we have?” I take out the new clue. “We’re on this island for three more days whether we like it or not. We might as well go along with it.”
“If she’s going to start dredging up the past when she claimed she was fine with it . . .” Annabel sighs, but the fight has gone out of her. “Alright. What does it say? And put that damn lid back on. I don’t want to look at that stupid lipstick a moment longer.”
Neither do I. I put the lid back on the box, glad it’s out of sight. I have a bad feeling about the next clue.
Carry on through the trees,
Head towards the secret beach,
A beautiful scene that will please,
But don’t be spooked if you hear me screech.
“She should stick to art and being a doctor,” Annabel says, and I can’t help smirking, the awkwardness between us easing a little. “Right. She must be on about that second beach we saw this morning from the cliff. It might be carrying on down this path instead of heading up the mountain. Come on, and you can carry the box with the lipstick inside.”
The walk through the middle of the island doesn’t take long. Robin wasn’t kidding when she said this place was tiny. But it’s less travelled than everywhere else as plants sprout up in the middle of the path and several more bugs crawl around. Eventually, the path opens up again and, instead of squeezing through in single file between the trees, we’re able to walk as a team as the smaller second beach becomes visible. It’s nowhere near the size of the one we’ve been sunbathing on. Each end is easy to see, a hundred metres at most. In the middle of the sand, half submerged, is another gift box.
Annabel picks it up, but hesitates in opening it.
We both know the lipstick is scratching the surface.
“What do you think the other two have found?” I ask, knowing that must be playing through her mind too.
“She wouldn’t use the art exam, would she?”
My breath catches in my throat. When Poppy brought it up on the climb this morning I thought I was going to faint. She’s planted it in our minds, and this scavenger hunt is like a sad tribute to everything leading up to that moment.
“Okay, maybe she wants us to apologise,” I say. “Maybe that’s what she’s getting at here.”
“But she said—”
“I know what she said. But then she gave us red lipstick in a gift box. If that isn’t a direct hint, I don’t know what is.”
“What if she wants something from us? Like money?” Annabel looks panicked now.
I shake my head. “She’s a doctor, she makes more money than us.”
“Because I can’t.” She chews her lip. “I mean, Andrew controls the finances. I have no money of my own.”
“Annabel, this isn’t about money.” Why is she so worried about that? The thought seems to have come from nowhere. “Just open the box. Poppy is simply making a point. We’ll go back and apologise, and that will be that.”
She nods. “Sorry. I’m a bit all over the place. The push this morning, when I was already angry after—”
I wait, but she stops. “After your argument with Esther?” I say eventually.
She blinks, startled, and then her gaze hardens. “Esther told you about that?”
“I saw you from my hut,” I admit, embarrassed. “You were, uh, pretty loud.”
Her fingers play with the bow on the box, unravelling it. “What did you hear?”
It’s hard not to pretend I heard more, but there’s no way I can bluff something I have no clue about. I shrug my shoulders instead, hedging my bets. “Not much. You were upset about Morocco. Esther mentioned something about helping you for two years.”
She studies me for a long moment, concern etched in her features. “That’s right, I was upset about Morocco. I’d told Esther for years that I’d always wanted to go there. I was upset you’d all decided to go without me.”
She’s not telling the truth. It’s her voice, higher pitched, as if she’s at ease, when she’s panicking inside. I’m not brilliant at reading people, but Annabel is an open book. She keeps pressing her lips together for something to do, and she stares straight down at the scavenger hunt item.
“It seemed like more than that,” I venture. “Why would Esther be angry at you too?”
“Drop it, Tanya.”
Above us, the sun is unrelenting, making us sweat. We need to get in the shade. I give in.
“Alright, forget I said anything. Open the next item.”
What is it going to be? I watch as Annabel tosses the ribbon to the ground, and opens the box. For a second all I have to go on is her reaction. A look of confusion.
“She’s fucking with us,” Annabel says, and throws the box on the sand as well.
The item clatters out as the box lands. A green envelope sits waiting to be read.
Annabel is right. Poppy is messing with our heads.
Because this one is personal to me. I know it. She remembers what I did to her when she turned twelve, ignoring her and hanging out with the others.
“A party hat, like from children’s birthdays,” Annabel says. “Just what is Poppy doing?”
That’s what I’m starting to wonder.
She invited us all here for a reason. We’re not just going to enjoy a holiday and then go home. I think we all knew that really.
The question is, how far is she willing to go?
Thirteen
Esther
May 19, 2023
A scavenger hunt. Like we’re children again.
At the end of the beach, past the rock pools, is a large cave opening. It takes some getting to—hopping across rocks covered in lichen and seaweed, and at one point I think Chloe is going to slip and fall into the sea—but we make it onto the sand. It doesn’t go too far, so only the very recesses of the cave are dark, and without our phones there’s no hope of a light. There’s something claustrophobic about being even this far in, still with an easy view of our escape route. I’ve taken my shoes off to avoid them getting wet, and I’m grateful I did now I’m over here, because the sand is wet and stodgy. A clear indication that the tide covers this place when it gets dark.
We don’t have to search long. There’s a rock a few metres in that sits at a high enough height to still be dry, and on top of it sits our second item for the scavenger hunt. It’s in another gift-wrapped box, an odd sight amidst the stark wilderness of the cave surrounding it.
The acoustics in here are strange. Every step we take, particularly those by Chloe, who’s still wearing her boots, is echoed back, as if someone is following us. It’s cold in here, and from above some kind of water drips down in various places. The cave is a world away from the hot paradise of the rest of the island, and even though I’m grateful for the respite from the sun, the longer we’re in here the more I worry that the tide is creeping behind us, ready to catch us unawares and strand us.
We’re already uncomfortable enough as it is. The first item, hidden behind the sun loungers on the beach, was an empty Capri-Sun wrapper. Anyone else looking at that would think it was a bit of rubbish, not part of the game at all.
We knew better.
“What do you reckon this is, some red lippie?” Chloe says. She doesn’t waste time, tearing the box open and tossing it on the sand, not seeming to care that the tide will sweep it away into the ocean.
Conscious of this, I pick it up, ready to bring it back with us. Chloe is holding the object out in front of her, confused.
“Well, I don’t know what this is meant to mean. Do you?”
The cave echoes her last two words back at me: Do you? Do you?
She’s holding a hand mirror, but the mirror part has been smashed and broken, a few shards remaining. It seems expensive. There are diamantes down the handle, and it’s made from real wood, painted white.
“Maybe she’s referring to when we—”
“This is stupid.” Cutting me off, Chloe hands me the mirror and I put it back in the box. “If she’s going to be playing games like this I think we should just double down.”
“Double down?”
“Get back there and pretend like we just enjoyed it. Like we have no idea what she was trying to do with this shit.”