Backwards Into Hell

Part Two: The LFG

Abigail's Diary

Tuesday 26th October

'So, who are you here for?' I asked, and my stomach growled. It was already well past lunchtime and my only breakfast had been a strong shot of coffee.

'My Dad,' John said.

There was no need for sympathy, no need to say sorry as an understanding settled between us, one that came out of loss and hope and necessity boiled into one.

My phone buzzed: a text from Hannah, my best-friend turned police officer. If she were on the Island, she'd already be questioning the families and clicking pieces together. The text said one thing:

Coffee?

I should have told her where I was. She would have seen the news that morning and maybe caught David's name.

After a while, John spoke again,

'You should meet the others.'

Without waiting for a response, John climbed to his feet and held out a hand. I took it. His skin was rougher than I expected. Little scabs grew at the bottom of his fingers but I didn't mind and was slightly disappointed when he let go to wave to people gathered around the unlit fire. They waved back and I raised a tentative hand.

They were two women and a man, campers, who were in the process of devouring a sandwich dinner. The women were both blond, and the man had dark hair and glasses. It took me a minute to recognise him in those loose clothes.

Simon.

My chest tightened and I stopped fast. John took another step forward before noticing I wasn't with him.

'What is it?'

'I can't go over there.'

His face locked into a frown, but John didn't question it. He changed direction, guiding me to an old, overweight lady sitting on a log. She was in a long, purple dress and wore a necklace that hung with all sorts of wooden charms. She watched the others, weaving string and beads through her hands.

She seemed kind enough, and her age reminded me of David's parents. Were they on Barra yet? David was their angel, the little boy who could do no wrong, and me? I was the evil witch who'd captured him with a child. Except they were getting frailer, so it wouldn't be a surprise if they couldn't make the trip.

The woman stopped her hands as we approached, and she gave us a peaceful smile.

'This is Sapphire. She's lost her son.'

Just like me.

I took a place next to her on the log and instantly felt better. She reminded me a little of my Mum, I suppose.

'Sapphire, this is Abigail.'

'I lost my son, too,' I said before John could finish. I hope he didn't mind.

'Oh, you poor girl.' Sapphire took my hand and squeezed it as John cleared his throat.

'I'll go sort out some lunch,' he said.

Sapphire asked me all about Caleb, never once expecting me to want to know anything about her son. But I did. It would be good to know who Caleb was trapped with, wherever he was. Tears pricked my eyes more than once as I described him, how he was quiet but a terror, how he used to run around on all fours, and the one time he painted the toilet bright blue so 'you could see it in the dark.'

Sapphire laughed and cried with me through all of it, never once letting go of my hand, and I watched her, with her grey, flowing hair and dark skin, and thought she looked quite beautiful.