We still didn’t have shelter, and I’d reached my limit of sleeping on the cool sand. By day, our umbrella tree kept us safe from the sun, but at night, even the fire couldn’t turn damp grains into a comfortable bed.
I’d tried to make a blanket a few weeks ago. After watching Galloway and Pippa plait metres of flax rope, I’d modified the idea and weaved larger pieces together. However, the plant material had been too dense and unbendable. Not at all useable as a blanket.
It wasn’t a complete loss.
The stiffness of the weave meant it became a handy covering to sit on and we’d each taken turns to sleep on it to see if it would be better.
However, after a sleepless night, we all agreed it was too rough with prickly edges.
I hadn’t given up and a fresh idea came to me after glaring at the mat, wishing I had some wool or cotton. Every material I craved was natural with manmade manipulation, to turn it from its original state (sheep’s wool to decadent spun colours and silkworm cocoons into satiny dresses). I didn’t have sheep or silkworms, but I did have something I could weave together; I just had to figure out how to make it softer.
“Whatcha doin’?” Pippa looked over my shoulder as I shredded more flax into the saltwater I’d gathered in a fuselage tray. I’d wedged the trough by the water’s edge where the sun beamed the hottest.
“Hopefully making a blanket.”
Pippa wrinkled her nose. “How?”
“Not sure yet.” My pile grew bigger as I continued to shred. Once I had enough strips, I pressed on the plant matter, drowning it. My hands revelled in the feel of warm liquid after the sun had heated it. The ocean was bath-warm and did perfectly fine for washing every day, but I missed hot showers and instant electricity for boiling water.
Coffee.
God, I missed coffee.
Caffeine in general.
For a few weeks after the crash, I’d had a caffeine headache that had nothing to do with dehydration.
I found it strange that I didn’t crave fast food, but I did mourn the ability to go to a store and buy ingredients for anything I wanted. I was a vegetarian, so eating meat was never my thing, but spices were. Cumin and paprika and cinnamon. We had salt now (thanks to our coconut shell of evaporated seawater) but nothing else. No mint or sage or coriander.
No sugar.
God, I missed sugar just as much as I missed coffee. I couldn’t deny I had a sweet tooth.
I smiled, nudging Pippa’s shoulder with mine as she poked the drenched flax. “You’re allergic to cocoa but what about sweets like marshmallows and things? Do you miss them?”
“Yes, I love gummy bears. Mummy rarely let me have them, though.”
The sun had kissed every inch of Pippa’s body a nutmeg brown. Most days, she ran around topless in her white knickers (well, now grey from swimming and no bleach). I’d tanned as well but not as much. Being blonde, I burned instead, but my hair had turned almost white thanks to always being in the ocean.
Galloway was the only one whose hair colour hadn’t noticeably changed. It’d stayed a delicious dark chocolate, demanding my fingers to run through it.
He was so handsome. So wild and untamed, becoming sexier the further society slipped away. His beard framed his perfect lips, taunting me to kiss him, and his blue eyes only grew brighter the more he tanned.
His muscles had become even more defined as we all lost body fat, turning to sinew and skeleton. But his hands...they intoxicated me the most. Was it because two of his fingers had been inside me? Or was it because of the visible veins disappearing up ropy forearms?
Everything about him turned me on. The daily battle was real.
Not to mention, a second period had tormented me the past few days. I’d always been irregular and the fact I had no sanitary products meant those days were the worse. Leaves could only do so much. (Let’s just say, laundry day turned into laundry hour and I stayed alert when I swam, just in case of sharks).
I hate being a woman.
I squeezed the flax, wringing out some of my frustration.
“G said he’d show me how to make a necklace out of fish bones.” Pippa beamed. “You want to learn, too?”
He knows how to do that?
My heart fluttered. Galloway...sigh. He’d gone out of his way to entertain the children, making me want him almost as much as I wanted sugar and coffee.
No, I want him more than that.
I squeezed my eyes.
Stop it.
“I’d love a lesson...if it’s okay if I join.”
“Yep.”
“It’s a date then.”
Drying my hands on my legs, I pushed upright.
Pippa followed, her body nimble and naked chest showing a skinny girl who needed to put on a few kilos.
Are we malnourished?
Will my periods vanish the longer we stay?
How long could a human body function before vitamins and minerals depleted to dangerous levels?
“That’s it?” She pointed at the flax. “Are you going to drain it?”
“No, I’ll let the sun and water rot it a little.”
“Rot?”
“I’m not sure that’s what I want to happen. But I need the structure to break down, so it becomes malleable. Rotting is the best idea I came up with.”