Reunion - Chapter Ten

Reunion

By Simon Stanford

Chapter Ten

Rescue

The following morning the remaining members of the group, having risen largely in silence, each member lost in his own thoughts set about going over to the funeral pyres.

“A ship!” shouted Walker, breaking the silence.

“What? Where?” asked Prince.

“There look, just on the horizon. See, with the big masts”.

There just on the horizon was a large three masted sailing ship, the sails just able to be made out.
“Blimey what is this the 18th Century?”

“Never mind that now, “ shouted Stephan, “get the signal fire going”.

Without needing to be asked , or indeed told, the Speke brothers set off at a sprint to get up to the promontory. The rest of the group followed behind but the two brothers showed some of their former inside and outside centre speed and were soon well ahead of the rest.

They began their scramble up the rough terraces that formed what passed for a path up to the promontory. As the two brothers made their way up the others followed behind but also kept stopping to see where the ship was.

It looked a little bigger , a little nearer perhaps but not by much. Its course was obviously tangential to the island rather than straight at it.

Would anyone be looking their way? Wondered Stephan, Would the signal fire be strong enough to be noticed?

In record time the Speke twins reached the top of the promontory and set about lighting the signal fire. It caught fairly quickly and soon orange flames were flickering up the sides of the layered bundles of sticks and kindling but it wasn't making much smoke yet.

Paul Speke added a few of the damp logs and twigs from the mangrove trees they had plundered and a pale grey smoke started to rise up into the sky. It wasn't much but it was a start. It was a careful balancing act to get enough damp material on to make smoke without putting out the whole fire.

After a few more seconds as the pall of smoke was looking better, Paul Speke picked up the blanket they had left up there and covered the fire with it briefly, stopping the smoke from rising . Then he removed it quickly before it started to smoulder and a more impressive cloud of smoke rose up in a large puff ball.

It was a signal any Native American Indian would be proud of. He repeated the process. The ship continued on its course no longer getting any closer, though also not any smaller as though it was circling the island at a fixed distance.

“Use the flare!”, shouted Prince, pausing for breath on one of the lower terraces, “use the flare!”

Peter Speke looked down towards Prince, his hand cupped behind his ear.

“The flare!, use the flare!”

Peter got the message and lifted up the rock that kept the cover on the box containing the flares and keeping them dry. He lifted out the red tube and looked at the side to read the instructions. He held the flare out at arms length and angled it out over the cliffs towards the sea and the sailing ship edging ever close to the horizon now.

Paul Speke was just about to release another smoke cloud when Peter pulled the cord at the bottom of the flare. There was a loud swoosh noise and the flare shot out of the bottom of its launch tube passing between Peter's legs and striking right into the middle of blanket covered fire with a violent, whoomp. The flare burst giving off a bright red glow causing the whole fire to increase in intensity and flames to leap up around the blanket.

Paul gave a yell and pulled the now flaming blanket off the fire but at that moment a breeze got up and the blanket wrapped around him setting light to his clothes as it wrapped round him. Paul staggered forward screaming and stumbling towards the ground, stepping right into the fire, Pete reached forward to try and catch his falling brother and as he did so his foot caught on something and Paul crashed into him knocking the both to the ground. The pair rolled and thrashed around on the ground flames engulfing them both now.

Then the inevitable happened, just as Gareth Laney leading the rest of the group clambered up onto the top level of the promonotry, the two brothers rolled clean off the edge of the cliff. The twins acted as one for the last time as they let out a scream and plummeted towards the rocks below. They hit the jagged rocks and fell silent, the flames were quickly quenched by the in rushing waves breaking over the cliff bottom and the two brothers disappeared from view.

Walker rushed up to the edge of the cliff and gingerly looked over the edge but there was no sign of them them. It was as though the sea had just swallowed them up.

Prince joined Walker on the cliff top, panting too much to speak and also dumbstruck by what they had just witnessed.

A couple of minutes later they were joined by the rest of the group.

“The ship, the fire,” said Stephan as he clambered the last terrace.

Even though he had seen the Speke twins demise he was still focused on the ship out past the bay of the island. It was definitely a little further away now, its course about to take it below the horizon. The signal fire had been scattered over the ground by the Speke twins as they rolled over the cliff. It was still burning in places but giving off almost no smoke.

Stephan ran over to the box containing the other flare and lifted it out. He looked at the side for a moment and then pointed it out over the sea. He grabbed hold of the cord at the side and prepared to pull it. Suddenly a hand clamped hard on his arm stopping him from launching the flare.

“No! Wait a moment,” it was Subbu Esacam. He took the flare from Stephan's hand and turned it round to face the other way,

“But the instructions say....” before Stephan could finish his words were cut off by another loud swoosh and whoomph noise as the flare launched itself successfully a couple of hundred metres into the air and burst into a brilliant red light that began a smoky slow descent out over the bay into the sea below.

The group looked out towards the sailing ship no one saying anything for several seconds. The ship carried on its slow travel dipping over the horizon and disappearing from view. There was no indication that it had noticed the flare, the fire or anything.

“They might have noticed and be radioing for help and trying to come about,” said Nalesh Mougal but without any conviction. They watched in silence for a few more minutes but the horizon remained empty. There was no ship coming to rescue them and two more members of the group were dead.

“How did you know about the flare?” asked Stephan his voice abruptly breaking the silence, “I was following the instructions.”

“I just realised even the Speke Twins wouldn't be stupid enough to launch a flare upside down, it must have had the labels printed the wrong way up.”

“Oi!” shouted Prince, bridling at the characterisation of his team mates in that way, “they were good lads. Brave lads” He looked out over the waves rolling and breaking on rocks below.

“Yes, yes of course,” said Subbu, “also,” he continued almost without pause, “I looked at the seals round the top and bottom of the tube and it seemed obvious which way it would launch.”

“So you think it was just some dodgy cheap flares Guy bought for the plane,” asked Stuart Walker.

“No to be honest I don't. I think they were deliberately mis-labelled to injure us?”

“What?” Stephan couldn't believe the implications of what Subbu was suggesting.

“Yes I really think that. Look at everything that has happened, the snake all the way from India, the spiked drinks , which was more than just alcohol I think and then the flares, which we also conveniently found by the crash site.”

“Yes, “ agreed Nalesh Mougal , “it is too much of a co-incidence all these things.”

“You think someone is trying to kill us?” Walker picked up the conversation and voiced the obvious conclusion.

“Yes. Someone on this island is trying to kill us” said Subbu.

“Us? What do you mean us,” said Prince turning back from looking out to sea, “It's only my boys that are being killed. It's all rather convenient don't you think? And as soon as your mate picks a flare up you step in to save him”

Prince looked at Subbu accusingly.

“What? What are you saying? I'd only just got to the top.”

“And it was you who knew the snake was from India and about the effects of spirits and shellfish.”

“What are you talking about? You're being ridiculous. Anyway I think there was more than just vodka in those drinks. I think they might have been poisoned.”

“See there you go again with your theories, how come you know so much about all this?” Prince advanced towards Subbu his fists clenched.

“I'm just thinking it through that's all. Besides if I really were behind all this why would I be explaining it all? Drawing attention to the fact.”

“He's right Prince,” said Stephan, “you're not thinking straight. You're upset...”

“It's because it's always the same with your braniacs. It's not enough to be clever, everyone has to know how clever you have been. How you put one over on the rugby team.” Prince continued his approach to Subbu, almost spitting the last words right in his place.

“Listen to Stephan, “ said Subbu backing away from Prince, “ you are grief stricken, not rational.”

“Yeah Court's probably in on it as well. All you geeks!” Prince turned round briefly to eye Court and Mougal and then he turned back round to bear down again on Subbu who took another step backwards.

Suddenly there was a low rumbling sound and the ground beneath Esacam gave way as a large chunk of the cliff top slipped sideways and down to the sea, Subbu tumbled with it crashing into the rocks below. Prince was almost taken over the edge with him but Walker was able to grab him and pull him back at the last minute.

“Jesus Christ!” shouted Stephan, “Prince what have you done? You bastard!”

“It wasn't me, I never touched him,” Prince said between gulps of air, he looked visibly shaken, all his anger gone now.

Stephan shuffled gingerly towards the newly formed cliff top and looked over but there was nothing there but there was nothing to see again save the rolling broiling waves breaking on the rocks below.

Stephan turned and rounded on Prince. His fists clenched and unclenched.

“You bastard, Prince, you pushed him over the edge.”

“I...I..didn't you saw I never touched him.”

“He's right,” said Walker, “we saw it, the ground just gave way. Now come away from the edge before you go over too. We should all step back from here.”

Stephan stepped back in towards the land all the time keeping his eyes on Prince, who retuned his gaze unflinchingly.

“I don't think it just gave way, “ said Nalesh Mougal quietly, “look at the way the cliff top broke , almost completely straight and look are those tool marks in at the edge? I think the cliff was deliberately weakened.”

“See, you're doing it now. You're in on it too. “ said Prince.

“Stop it Prince, stop it!” said Walker putting his hand firmly on Prince’s shoulder. “That makes no sense, how would Mougal be in on it with Esacam if it's he who's just been killed.”

“I don't know!” snapped Prince pulling away from Walker and turning his back on the remaining three members of the group, his shoulders hunched and brooding.

“I think if someone is trying to kill us though,” Walker continued , “we should get away from here, back to camp and work out what we are going to do”. This at least was something they could all agree on and the four made their way back down the terraces to the camp in silence. Each of them thinking over what they had just witnessed and adding it to the other events since they arrived. Forming and reforming theories about who or what was doing this.

*

As they made their descent, at those more flat and even parts that did not require complete attention to avoid falling, one or other of the group would glance out to sea in the vain hope that they would the masts of the sailing ship would appear over the horizon but none did. After few minutes they arrived back at the camp, the twelve bivouac shelters lying in silent testament to the size of the group when they first arrived.

“OK, were here now and away from the cliff top,” said Prince, “What now?”

“We have to try and work out who is trying to kill us,” said Walker.

“Are we really sure someone is actively trying to kill us?” said Stephan.

“Oh trying to throw us off the scent eh? “ said Prince accusingly.

“I'm just suggesting it could be a series of unfortunate accidents, that's all. Saying someone is trying to kill us is pretty extreme.”

Ever the voice of reason Mougal spoke up before they ended up in another confrontation.

“Well let's review the evidence. We have the cobra that should be in India, the poisoned orange juice and the flares labelled upside down.”

“All of which killed my team mates,” said Prince angrily.

“Wait a minute Nalesh, you said poisoned orange juice, “ Stephan ignored Prince for a moment. “I thought it was just a reaction between spirits and clams that killed Laney and Benedict.”

“Well I don't think that would have been enough to kill them, just make them ill. I think the bottles of orange juice were spiked with vodka to hide the taste of a poison. They were big strong lads vodka and clams might make them sick but it shouldn't have killed them and not so quickly.”

“Then there is the weakened cliff top edge,” he continued.

“Which killed one of my tea....one of my friends,” said Stephan, directing his gaze at Ian Prince. Mougal noted the 'my team' reference but chose to ignore it.

“You sure it was weakened deliberately? “ asked Walker who had been quiet up until now, “those cliffs could be naturally unstable, look at the way they've crumbled and slid to those terrace we used to get up there.”

“No I'm pretty sure there were tool marks from pick axes or shovels or something. We could go back and check I suppose but I felt quite exposed up there, an easy target.”

“Then we have Wiltshire and White.”

“What?” said Prince not wanting these two deaths to be added to the 'other sides' total like some horrific scoreboard of death as it weakened his argument for his former team mates being the target of a killer from amongst the geeks.

“That was just bad luck, no-one could have known that sharks would be out there”

“No true, but what about how we built the raft, those oil drums were rather convenient really? Ok they could have been left behind from the war and they looked old but they were virtually intact. Just waiting to be used to build a raft and send some poor unsuspecting crew out into heavily shark infested waters.”

“If that's true,” said Walker, picking up the threads of what Mougal was saying, “then the whole thing has been pre-planned, the island prepared beforehand. That means we were meant to crash here. That's incredible!”

“Amazing but not 'incredible' I think we can give a lot of credence to it when it all adds up. Look at the plane crash itself. One minute we are spiralling out of control and our pilot has..err…well escaped, the next we are coming in for reasonably level crash landing on relatively even soft land.”

“Well it was odd the way the controls in the cockpit wouldn't respond to Laney's attempts to steer the plane,” said Stephan coming round to that way of thinking, “even so it was a pretty risky process. If you wanted to get people on to the island alive.”

“Maybe our killer didn't really care if we lived or died in the crash, the rest is just an insurance plan or he wanted to pick us off in ones and twos but felt it was an acceptable risk to get us here by using the crash?” Mougal reasoned.

“But the organisation for all that, who could afford to arrange such a thing? And why would anyone want to kill us?” said Prince.

“Well you seemed happy to think one of us wanted to kill you and your team mates five minutes ago.” Court said.

“Or maybe,” said Mougal still battling hard to avoid another confrontation, “it was a former class mate who is now a multibillionaire. After all the invites did come from Anthony Korda.”

“Well Prince, “ Stephan walked closer to Prince, “what did you do to Korda back at Broadway Grammar to make him want to kill us 20 years later?”

“Me? Wait a minute, why does it have to be me? Anyway why invite you lot if it was just me and the boys he had a grudge with. Not that I'm saying he had any reason to have a grudge against me.”

“Well I never did anything to him, “ said Stephan. Ian Prince and Stephan Court started to square up to each other again. Edging closer and each holding the other's gaze, refusing to look away.

“OK look, you two just pack it in!” Walker snapped at the two of them and stepped in between them.

“This isn't going to help us get off this island alive. Gees talk about bearing grudges. I don't know what the history is between you two from BGSB, but you've been sniping away at each other ever since we arrived here, even before that in fact back in the business lounge at Heathrow there was needle between you. We've got to put all that to one side and work together if we are going to survive. Right?”

Prince and Court drew back slightly their heads bowed to the chins like sullen schoolboys and mumbled a rather petulant “Right.”

Walker was waiting for one of them to say “but he started it” but in the end neither did, though doubtless it was running through their minds.

“OK so if we assume some rich, powerful enemy, say Anthony Korda, has arranged all this to be able to pick us off at their leisure, what are we supposed to do about it?” asked Stephan after a couple more sideways glances at his arch-nemesis Prince.

“Well I’m not entirely sure, “ said Mougal, “but knowledge is power, remember.”

A tenet by which he had lived his life and which had made him a successful quant in the city of London, “Now that we know what is going on we can be on our guard, we can be ready for the attack.”

“But seriously how are we going to defeat this guy with all his resources when the only remote chance of rescue we have seen in the last week just disappeared over the horizon?” Prince wanted something concrete to work with, just the knowledge was enough for him.

“Maybe they are not even looking for us,” said Stephan.

“What? Why not?” asked Prince his enmity with Stephan momentarily forgotten or at least suppressed for now.

“Well if the guy has the resources to do all this he could somehow make the authorities believe we arrived or arranged another plane crash in the sea somewhere and at best the authorities are searching that area for our bodies.”

“But they’d never keep our non-arrival a secret for ever surely, we were due to be back yesterday. As for the crash site well they won’t find any bodies or personal belongings.”

“It doesn’t have to be forever, just long enough to delay them looking anywhere near here so he has time to finish us off.”

“Well that’s a depressing thought,” said Walker, “but not one we can really do anything about.”

“Which brings us back to my point, what are we going to do?”

“Well maybe there is just him on this island, we outnumber him then. All the attacks have been by stealth and subterfuge,” offered Mougal by way of explanation.

“True but if he has the resources to do all that surely he’d have help on the island too.”

“Not necessarily,” said Prince, “He might want the satisfaction of doing it all himself finally getting one over on us,”

“That would make some sort of sick logic I suppose, if he’s been bearing a grudge all this time and gone to these lengths so far to get us here in the first place,” Stephan agreed with Prince.

“Well we need to stick together from now on. No one goes off anywhere on their own,” Walker said, “At the very least we go in pairs and if possible we all go together.”

“What even when one of us has to…err..go?” Mougal twisted his foot bashfully in the sand.

“Yep, even then. One of us will be close by, looking the other way of course but nearby, remember Rourke was picked off whilst he was…going.”

With that agreed, the gang of four decided that whilst they worked on a plan to defeat their mystery assailant they would try to go about the rest of the daily business if living and surviving as normally as possible with the exception that they would all do things together where otherwise they might have split up the tasks and gone about them in ones or twos.

First they went to fetch more fresh water. Laney’s condom water carriers had long since either been used up or were lost at sea when the Notleakie went down, so they just used the other upturned half of the hard shell samsonite suitcase to fetch water back to the camp and dip into this as and when they wanted.

Food supplies weren’t too bad now there were three less mouths to feed than a couple of hours ago and they wouldn’t need to go foraging or fishing for another day or two.

They also decided they needed to rebuild a signal fire but none of them fancied going back up to the exposed heights of the promontory partly because they felt more vulnerable to attack there with few escape routes and partly because it had been the site of the death of three of their colleagues. So instead they opted for a fire on the beach separate to the campfire used for cooking and warmth.

They gathered suitable firewood and wet moss that would make good smoke from the edges of the forest that came down near the campsite. They made sure that they could always see at least one other person from the group as they worked. After 20 minutes or so they had assembled enough wood and moss to be able to lay the new signal fire in readiness for the site of a rescue ship or plane.

*

Captain Van Der Frijs stood on the quarter deck of his ship, The Seeker and surveyed the furious activity going on along the whole length of the 37 metre, three masted, rigger. His crew were busy trying to change the mainsail with a quite a good 18 knot wind and for the first time it looked as though they might make a decent job of it.

“About time”, he thought. He had been dubious about taking on work for Operation Raleigh but it was good money for chartering his boat to be crewed by a dozen fourteen to fifteeen year olds who were for one reason or another in trouble with the authorities but had been given this option to straighten them out.

He had his first mate, Erik Creis as the only other professional sailor on board and then the teens had their “guardian” ,the affable but rather ineffective Roger Wilkinson, a physical education and geography teacher taking a sabbatical from the “front line” as he called it.

Captain Van Der Frijs wondered if it was a universal rule that physical education teachers always had something like Geograhy as their “proper” subject.

He thought back to his own schooling and it was the same there. “I guess Geography provided more opportunities to get out in the fresh air than mathematics or physics. Or maybe P.E. teachers just didn't quite have the aptitude for those subjects.” He thought.

Mr Wilkinson as he was known to the boys was busy flitting from team to team on the deck and shouting encouragement and this time it looked as though he wasn't actually getting in the way or getting tangled up in any lines.

The crew of the Seeker had been together for three weeks now and after rigiorous training on short coastal runs this was their first open ocean voyage. They had been out for three days and had at least another four days before they made landfall.

“Watch that line there,” bellowed the captain as he saw the rope running to the top of the middle mast getting slacker than he would have liked.

“Aye Cap'n I'm on it,” First Mate Erik shouted back and then directed one of the boys near him to take in the slack.

They'd tried a couple of runs like this over the last two days when the wind got up and this was the first time it looked like they were going to get it right. The Captain was actually starting to feel a touch of pride in his crew, maybe they weren't so bad after all. They were making about 16 knots now, very respectable indeed and Wilkinson still hadn't cocked anything up.

“Sir, sir!” shouted a slender, ginger haired youth called Peter though who was known as “Ging” to everyone on board. He was standing just windward of the captain and supposed to be helping out with the steering.

“How many times, Ging. It's Captain or maybe Skip, not sir.” said Van Der Frijs turning his back on the main deck to see what Ging wanted.

“Sorry, sir...er..I mean sorry Captain. I think I saw something off the right hand, “ he stopped himself from saying right hand side and corrected himself to use the correct nautical language, “off the starboard side, Captain.”

“Saw something? What? Another vessel? Your eyes are supposed to be looking where we are going.”

“No Captain, Sir. It was smoke, a fire, over there.”

The captain looked to where Ging was pointing but there was nothing to be seen now.

“Where was it?”

“Right on the horizon Captain.”

“You sure it was smoke and not just a low cloud formation?” though that would be unlikely thought the captain, there wasn't a cloud in the sky anywhere at the moment.

“No Captain it was smoke I'm sure.”

“Damn” thought the Captain. He'd have to check it out. He'd received the general broadcast message not long after they had set out to be on the lookout for any signs of wreckage or survivors from that that private charter plan that had gone down somewhere in a region of about a thousand square miles that was being searched by the authorities. For all his faults and annoyances, Ging wasn’t a naturally deceitful boy and if he said he saw smoke then he probably did.

It would mean tacking back in a wind like this, a challenge enough experienced sailors let alone his crew of neophytes. Just as they were getting to grips with a sustained run as well. “Ah well”, he thought. Captain Van Der Frijs turned back to face the bow.

“Prepare to bring her about,” he shouted down to his first mate. Erik looked up at the Captain a little surprised for that manoeuvre to be called out now.

“Bring her about, Captain?” Erik wanted to make sure he had heard the order correctly.

“Aye Number One, that's right. Bring her about.”

This was going to take a long time thought the Captain.

*

“I think we should go back to the plane crash site, and where the oil drums were found,” suggested Stephan as they were all standing around the camp wondering what to do next.

“What for?” asked Prince.

“I don’t know I just think there’s something there we are missing and it might help us understand what is going on. It’s just a hunch really.”

“A hunch, hardly great reason to go heading off into the jungle.”

“I’d like to check out the site by those oil drums too,” Mougal added, “we should get any evidence we can to corroborate our theory, now we believe we know what we are looking for we should get confirmation from another source.”

“OK, I guess”.

“I think we should start fighting fire with fire, “ said Prince aware of both the appositeness and irony in the phrase given the events of the last few hours, “we should protect the camp with some traps of our own and we should start thinking about turning the tables on our hunter and go looking for him.

“That’s a good idea, “ said Stephan somewhat to the surprise of everyone, including himself , “but why don’t we go to the crash site and we can bring back more of the metal struts and other bits and pieces they’ll probably prove useful for fortifying the camp.”

“OK fair enough.” Prince was doing his best to make this entente cordiale too.

There was a short debate about whether only two should go and two stay watch the signal fire but they decided in the end it was safer for all four of them to go together. They would light the signal fire and get it smoking well before they left. They would only be gone for an hour or maybe less and the fire would keep going long enough for that before more smoke making material was needed.

They headed off towards the crash site, Stephan Court and Ian Prince side by side, neither wanting to be seen to be being led by the other and then Nalesh Mougal and finally Stuart Walker bringing up the rear.

The plane crash site looked no different to when they had last seen it and despite fifteen minutes sifting through the wreckage, paying particular attention to the cockpit area, they found nothing.

“Let’s take a quick look at where the oil drums came from then,” said Mougal heading off into the jungle to the side of the large swathe carved in the landscape by the plane crash.”

The others followed on behind in single file because, even though they had visited the site a couple of times and dragged and rolled the drums back, the track was still quite narrow and the foliage still fairly thick.

After a few moments they came to the bank where the drums had been lying below down the slope a little. Mougal went up to the top of the slope,

“They were found from up here when we were…..” suddenly Mougal stumbled forward on the top edge of the bank and the ground appeared to open up and swallow him.

He fell right through the earth , a brief cry escaped his lips before it was cut off by several wet , squelching sounds.

“Nalesh,” screamed Court as he saw him disappear from view.

The rest of the group hurried forward to see what had happened. Walker stopped himself from tripping over what had caused Mougal to fall, a fine trip wire just at ankle height was stretched between the trunks of two saplings on the top of the ridge.

He put his arms out to his sides to stop Court and Prince from falling into the trap and leaned forward to look where Mougal had gone in. It was a large pit, maybe four feet deep and five feet long, a couple of feet wide. The bottom of the pit had been lined by sharpened bamboo stakes, several of which were know protuding from the prone body of Mougal , his neck had been speared by one and this is what had cut off his cry.

“No, no!” screamed Stephan and moved towards the pit to try and reach him. Walker had to use all his strength to restrain him and to avoid them both being pitched into the trap themselves.

“It’s no use,” said Walker, “look there” he pointed to Mougal’s head and they could see one of the spikes had gone through his eye and entered the brain. It had been quick at least.

“That’s it then, no doubt now,” said Prince, “this was no accident and that trap and camouflaged pit wasn’t here a couple of days ago. Mougal got his corroboration.”

Stephan nodded silently in agreement and they backed carefully away from edge of the pit.

The three remaining survivors now treated paths they had previously travelled along with suspicion now. Nowhere was safe and they were anxious to get back to the camp.

“We’ll have to check the camp carefully when we get back,”said Walker,”we’ve only been gone a while but it might have been long enough for traps to be laid there.”

Once back at the camp they made a careful inspection of the site, the signal fire was still making some smoke though would need topping up soon. Everything else seemed as they had left it. The sun was starting to drop down towards the horizon , the bright glare of the afternoon sun reflected off the white sands giving way to the softer more golden light of early evening.

“It’ll be dark soon,” said Prince, “What are we going to do about sleep? We can’t all stay up and we can’t all go to sleep. We’ll have to do it in shifts.”