Deadly Sky (ePub), The by David Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

sand. A few hundred metres on, a track curved up towards the headland. He climbed slowly, between walls of grey tree trunks and huge green leaves. Insects droned. Butterflies drifted. A corridor of glowing sky shone above. The rest of the world had vanished.
    ‘BRARRR-OWWW!’
He leaped as something tore across the sky overhead.
‘BRARR-OWWW!’
Planes. Fighters of some sort. Blue, white and red circles witha thin yellow border on their wings. French? Must be doing training.
    He shook his head. Even here, he couldn’t get away from reminders of the bomb.
    ‘You’re in the paper!’ his mother announced, the minute she came in. She laughed at the expression on her son’s face. ‘Saturday’s – it was in the school staffroom; I picked it up, and there was this handsome guy staring at me.’
    The paper was in French, but there on the front page was a big photo of Friday’s marchers, just as the police charged into them. Batons were raised; signs struck at uniformed figures; people’s mouths opened to shout; arms lifted to protect themselves. Some had turned to flee. The market’s corrugated iron roof showed in the background.
    There was no sign of the young guy from the plane. But – aw, no! – there was Darryl himself, standing to one side, staring at what was happening. His jaw hung open; he looked a total idiot.
    ‘We’ll have to send a copy to your dad,’ his mother said.
    ‘Why?’ Darryl demanded. ‘I look like a moron.’
    ‘No, you don’t.’ Mrs Davis laughed. ‘Anyway, he’llwant to know what you’re doing, that you’re having an … an adventure.’
    Darryl was remembering another photo of himself, in a 100-yards race at his intermediate school, which had been published in the local giveaway paper. ‘Who’s the good-looking guy?’ his father had grinned. ‘Looks so much like me!’
    He swallowed as he remembered, but said nothing.
    They were flying out of Tahiti early the next morning. ‘To the Island at the End of the World,’ his mother said, as they headed for their café.
    The waitress who’d been so upset smiled when they came in. The police had let her son go, with a warning to behave himself, she told them before they’d even sat down. He had a cut head from where something had hit him, but he was all right. ‘The young people!’ she said to Darryl’s mum, and ruffled his hair, too. Darryl forced a smile.
    ‘It’s our last night in Tahiti,’ Mrs Davis said. ‘What should we eat that’s really special?’
    The waitress beamed. ‘You try
poulpe
.
Poulpe
is very lovely.’
    ‘All right,’ Darryl’s mother laughed. ‘We’ll try two
poulpes
. OK?’
    Darryl began to say ‘What are—’, then just nodded.
    A few minutes later, the waitress came back. She carried two tall glasses, brim-full of golden liquid. Slices of orange and pineapple sat on top. ‘For you. Is cost nothing.’ Darryl grinned.
    ‘What
is
“
poulpe
”, by the way?’ Mrs Davis asked, as the waitress turned to go. The woman beamed again. ‘How you say it? Octopus.’ Darryl gulped.
    But it tasted good. Chewy, but good.
    ‘Mangareva?’ the waitress exclaimed when they were leaving. ‘Oh, it is beautiful! It mean Floating Mountain. There is lovely high hill. Good happiness to you.’ She kissed them on both cheeks. Darryl decided he didn’t hate it too much after all.
    The sun was just up, but already warm through the shutters, when they dragged their suitcases down the corridor to the foyer next morning.
    Sunlight between the palm trees threw stripes like zebra coats across the road to the airport. They checked in, ate a chocolate croissant and then another chocolate croissant in the café, and just fifteen minutes later, an announcement told them to board through Gate Six.
    ‘It’s a much smaller plane,’ Mrs Davis said as theywalked. ‘Only about twenty people. Twin engines, it said on the brochure.’
    Darryl remembered the announcement on the flight from Sydney. ‘So it can climb on one