Ch29: Stolen Aug 16th

I sit on the hill watching the water half expecting Ian not to come. The shirt I’m wearing is baggy, my belly is only slightly swollen, but perhaps enough to make him ask questions, and I don’t want to answer them yet. What if he loses his temper again and tries to beat the baby out of me? Or decides I’m too much trouble, takes me out on the boat and dumps me where I have no chance of making it to land?

His boat emerges from the sound and slowly makes its way towards Vanir. I’ve been so careful with food over the last two weeks, rationing and not wasting a single crumb. To make it look like I’ve eaten nearly all of last fortnight’s supplies I’ve hidden most of the extra tins under the wood pile at the back of the cottage. I left the open packs of rice and pasta on the shelf, but the closed ones are out there as well. I hope there aren’t any mice to chew at the food.

Humphrey has come with me, he hops around munching on grass and playing with the other rabbits. Taming him was hard, but now he’s teaching the other rabbits I’m not to be feared and slowly they approach me.

Once again, as I watch Ian approach the island, I am working through a list of options. I could be bolshie, but that might end with me making my hidden food last another fortnight. The other option is to be nice to him. I hate that I have to do that, but with my baby growing inside me and my parents pining for me, I have things to live for. I don’t want to die here. Somehow I have to get on his good side and convince him to take me home. I’m a realist and realise this may take a while, weeks, maybe even months. But I will work on him until he takes me off this island.

Pangs of loneliness hit me, and I fight back the tears.

“Mum, Dad, I will get back to you. I promise.”

Humphrey responds to my voice and sidles up alongside me, stretching out on the grass. The sun is shining, and it’s a lovely calm day. I stroke the rabbit, watching as Ian draws closer.

As he rounds the top end of the island, I get up, stretching before making my way down the hill to the harbour. Ian is pulling up to the pier as I arrive. He’s busy with stopping the boat and then throwing the ropes out. I grab one and tie it. I’m wary, wondering what kind of mood he’s in. The turbine needs fixing, and I’m going to do my best to get him to mend it.

“Hi Ems,” Ian says.

 I grab the second rope. “Hi Ian,” I reply. I’m not sure if I should even look him in the eye. I feel like I’m in the middle of an animal documentary learning lessons in dominance and how not to anger the wild bear. Lowering my eyes, acting submissive seems the right way to go.

“I’ve got treats for you.”

I glance in the boat. There’s even more bags than last time. He’s also got two bags of coal. The sight of extra supplies buoys me more than it should. I hate that I’m so easily bought.

“Fantastic,” I find myself saying. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He jumps out of the boat and gathers me in his arms. I feel revulsion at his touch, but he’s left all the things in the boat, and if I don’t play along will he leave me and take it all away?

Ian leans in for a kiss and I let him. He draws back, a smile on his face, and lets me go. As I lean into the boat to snag a couple of bags he smacks my bum lightly.

“Here let me help.” He jumps back aboard and hands out the bags. Twelve this time, but two seem to have clothing in them. “Let’s get all this to the cottage before the meat spoils. We’ll come back for the coal later.”

So that’s it. I can have the food, but risk the coal if I don’t behave. “Okay,” I tell him and grab a few bags. I don’t want to carry too much. After the coal fiasco a fortnight ago I’ve been very careful lifting things.

It takes us two trips to get all the shopping to the cottage.

“You sleeping a bit better now the simmer dim is passing?”

We’re putting things away. I have lots of what I now call luxury goods – butter, oil, even fresh milk. He’s got some lovely looking pastries. I eye them, my mouth watering.

“I am, thanks.” I decide to try my chances. “Ian, with the nights getting darker now, would it be okay if you fixed the turbine? I could help you. Be your assistant.” I’m hoping to see what he does so I can fix it myself.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and I think I’ve pushed too far, too fast and I’ve just lost coal for the next two weeks. Then he smiles. His eyes seem hollow, not matching his expression. Was he always like this? How could I miss the psycho side to his personality?

“Sure. We’ll go after we eat these.” He pulls two pasties out of a paper bag and hands me one. It’s still warm. We eat them sitting on the grass beside the cottage, letting the crumbs fall for the birds.

Ian finishes up and stands, rubbing his belly. “Just what was needed.” He goes in the cottage and comes out with the toolkit. “Come on.”

I pop the last of the pasty in my mouth and follow him down to the beach. We walk in silence. I’m keeping a close eye on him, watching for a change in his mood. I want to keep him happy. I need that coal.

The turbine comes into view. It looks sad and neglected. I help Ian getting the access panel off and watch over his shoulder as he tinkers inside.

“I’m useless with this stuff. Thank goodness for you,” I say.

Ian glances over his shoulder, a smug expression on his face. I don’t want to cater to his ego too much, so I leave the compliments there. Pretending to pick at my nails, I keep a careful eye on him. He slips a hand inside the space. There’s really not much in there. A couple of shafts coming down from the top and into what I think is the turbine bit that converts the spinning to electric.

Then I see it. There’s a switch in there. He thinks I’m not looking as he flicks it. The top starts to turn lazily at first, picking up speed as a gust of wind hits the blades. I pretend not to have seen what he’s done as he continues to fiddle inside, doing nothing of consequence.

Did he stop the turbine on purpose, as a way of control? I have to stop the thoughts, keep them at bay until he’s gone. I can’t risk betraying that I’ve figured out what he’s done. The turbine stopped working while I was alone here on the island. Did that mean he’s been sneaking back and messing with things? Suddenly I’m glad I’ve been jamming the sofa up against the door at night. Has he tried to get in whilst I’ve been sleeping? I shudder at the thought.

I really need to get off Vanir. Standing there behind Ian, pretending that he’s not played me for a fool yet again, I vow that somehow I will get off this island.