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Standing on the bare floorboards and looking up the centre well of the iron staircase which curved around the inner walls, she al paid her fifty francs, Elizabeth's thrifty nature bolstered her wavering pride
She made sure as she clirip on the handrail white-knuckle tight She had to rest several times before she finally panted out on to the narrow open-air platforhthouse
She was glad she had waited until last to explore the view It was like being alone at the top of the world, lord of all she surveyed, three hundred and sixty degrees of cobalt sea and sky, flat, featureless and aluishable from one another except where the rim of white surf outlined the curve of the reef The view to the beach beloas nauseatingly quick to h-cast wall, closing her eyes and breathing deeply before she dared open theain
The thrill beca sensation of doom as her eyes cautiously lowered fro up alongside the hotel transport A boat which was appallingly familiar
And there was the pirate hi off the pier on to the sand, lifting a hand in greeting to the cries of welcome froled with the guests to travel to the island
Elizabeth watched, hypnotised, as the black head tilted and he looked up, almost as if he knew exactly where she was He couldn’t identify her hat-shaded head, surely, not from that distance She tried to convince herself of it, but as soon as he began to hthouse she decided she would not, could not, just stay up here waiting If she had to round under her feet!
Twenty steps back down the iron stairs she knew she was in deep trouble Going up had been strenuous and nerve-racking, but going doas terrifying There was nothing in front of her but the sheer fall of steps spinning around the open central shaft The ly insubstantial in her sweaty grip She froze, both hands gripping the rail, visualising herself free-falling forwards down the hundreds of lethal iron rungs Her knees trembled and her sandy toes curled inside her canvas shoes She teetered on the brink of black panic
'Eliza-Beth?'
The deep voice curled up through the cavernously dih her frozen horror
'Eliza-Beth? Are you coet you?'
The idea was such sheer bliss that tears rushed to her eyes Her first try was such a pitiful croak that her second over-coraphically like a taunt rather than a desperate plea, 'Coet me'
A very explicit string of French sords rose likeears then there was the distant sound of steps striking ry steps, accompanied by a litany of threats that she only hoped she would live long enough for him to carry out!
She kept her eyes resolutely shut for what see her senses until she wasn’t sure whether he wa
s coether Visions of his body floating through the air to smash on the boards far below peeled back her lids
'Jack? Jean-Jacques?'