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MIRA

‘Well, I can’t say our interview was everything I was hoping for – but I’m confident I can turn all this into a decent story,’ said the journalist. ‘You’re sure there’s nothing else – no final comments, no last-minute memories that have sprung back?

’ he said. ‘You’re sure you didn’t bury Carly out there in the rainforest, and keep it a secret all this time?

’ He snorted, a bitter-sounding laugh, then in a mockingly deep, serious voice said: ‘Come on, speak now, or for ever hold your peace!’

Oh, dear God. Mira cringed inwardly. She was feeling a little embarrassed for him.

That this earnest freelance reporter had convinced the editors at The Post to pay them all a nice sum of money to hear an only slightly more detailed version of the events that had already been splashed over front pages across the globe.

Through the computer screen, she could see his eyes were still hungry; even now, when their time was up and it was so close to being over, he was desperate for something more.

And she couldn’t blame him. But they had nothing else to give, and even he knew that.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Scott. ‘That’s everything we know.

We can only assume Carly died somewhere out there in the rainforest – if she’d managed to escape the jungle, someone would have spotted her by now.

No one can stay off the radar for that long – not with half the planet knowing what they look like. ’

‘I suppose so. Thanks for your time, then,’ the journalist said, attempting to dredge up whatever morsel of enthusiasm, of gratitude, he could find. ‘Best of luck with everything in the future – and if you think of anything else to add, you know where I am.’

He hung up, and the app made a sharp little bleep as he went. She must have done dozens of video calls since the start of the pandemic, and the sound was hardly unfamiliar, but the noise still startled her. She reminded her nervous system to stay calm: she was safe now; the worst was over.

‘Well, thank God that’s done,’ she said, shifting in her chair and checking the time in the corner of the screen.

She looked at the two other faces on her screen, smiling at her.

‘Thank you – both of you. I don’t think I could have got through this without you there – I was nervous, to be honest, doing this.

I’ve never really spoken to a journalist before.

If it wasn’t for getting the money to help pay for my treatment, I’d never have agreed to it. ’

Naya leaned back in her chair, rested a hand on the large swell of her belly.

Behind her, in the blurred-out background, Mira could make out the shapes of her two children, lying on the floor on their stomachs in front of the TV, kicking their legs in the air behind them.

It was a good job they were able to negotiate having the interview online rather than in person; it was too late in Naya’s pregnancy for her to travel far, and she was insistent that she wouldn’t leave her children again.

‘I felt the same,’ she said. ‘I’m glad it’s done too. I just wonder if he felt that he got his big story.’ She shrugged. ‘He seemed disappointed that we didn’t know more about what happened to Carly.’

At the thought of Carly, Mira felt the familiar jolt of panic in her stomach; a pang in the ribs she’d cracked in the mudslide, a throb at the base of her skull – as if the now-healed wounds had memories of their own.

It’s all right, she told herself. We’re all safe now.

She’s gone – there’s no way she made it out of the jungle. She can’t hurt me any more.

Scott took a sip of water. ‘Well, even if he is, we’ve kept our end of the deal. We told our stories, and honestly, even though being paid for it doesn’t nearly make up for everything we’ve been through, or bring Hannah and Ben back – well, it seems like we could all use the cash.’

At the thought of the money which was about to wing its way into her bank account, Mira’s eyes filled.

‘I can’t even tell you how much it means to me, getting that payment.

I’ll be able to fly to the States for the new treatment they’re developing – they’re getting amazing results with it over there.

’ She smiled sadly. ‘And if it doesn’t work – well, then I’ll have enough left over to take Ezra on one last beautiful holiday together.

To do something special, before – before. ..’ Her voice cracked.

‘It’s going to work, Mira,’ said Naya, eyes bright and fixed through the camera on Mira’s face. Mira felt the strength of her belief; wanted her to will it to be true. It is going to work. If she could believe it enough – if they all could – perhaps that would make it real.

Mira smiled. ‘Thank you. And I’m so happy for you too, with the money... I’m sure it’ll make such a difference to your family,’ she said.

Naya beamed. ‘Oh, yes. Did I tell you? I’m going to be able to get the kids into an amazing school – I can cover the fees for at least the next two years.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know!’ said Mira. ‘That’s wonderful.’

‘They have these really small classes, and they’re outside in nature almost all the time – it’ll be so good for them.

’ She paused, looked overcome for a moment.

‘And of course, the money will help with this little one too.’ She reached a hand down to stroke her belly.

‘And if I can, I want to try and keep some of the money aside to go and visit Ben’s grave one day – say a proper goodbye to him. ’ Naya’s eyes glistened as she spoke.

Mira felt a deep pang in her chest at the thought of Ben; the guilt at having suspected him, wrongly, of Hannah’s murder; of how hard he’d tried to hang on to life.

His heart had still been beating when the rescuers arrived – but by the time they’d got him to the hospital, it was too late.

If only it hadn’t been too dark for the emergency services to send out a search party straight away, when Paola had called them that first evening after the group didn’t come back.

Or if only the first rescue helicopter that had flown out early the following morning had found Ben when it had been circling above their patch of jungle, not long before Carly stumbled across him.

He’d have made it; things wouldn’t have ended the way they did.

They all could have been saved more injury; more trauma.

At the thought of how close he’d come to surviving, tears spilled onto Mira’s cheeks. ‘I’d like to do that too, one day,’ she said softly. ‘Maybe we could even all go together – a real tribute to him.’

Naya smiled, nodded. ‘I’d like that.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I just couldn’t see it at first, you know? Ben and Hannah, in a relationship. But I think he really did love her.’

‘And I’m sure she really loved him too,’ said Scott.

Mira had to resist rolling her eyes at that; in spite of everything that had come out about Hannah since her death – her history of alcohol and marijuana abuse; the lethal danger of some of her advice and claims – Scott was resolute in his loyalty towards her.

‘And Scott, what about you? Have you thought what you’ll do with the payment from the interview?’ Mira said.

Scott shifted in his chair, looked suddenly uncomfortable. Mira wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t have asked – was she being intrusive?

‘Ah, yeah – there’s a conservation project actually, over in Europe, that I’m hoping to get involved with,’ he says.

‘They’ve got an opening for someone to take over the management of it – so if I do that, the cash will come in handy to help me move and everything—’ Mira wondered why telling her this would make him feel so awkward, as if he were keeping some big secret he didn’t want her to know.

She decided not to ask any more. Her eyes flickered across the screen towards Naya, but her gazed seemed to shift away from Mira, over to the side of the room.

What’s going on? Are they trying to hide something from me?

She looked at Naya again; her cheeks had turned a gentle shade of pink. And in a flash, Mira understood.

Of course – how could I have missed it before?

Mira smiled. ‘I see. And would that conservation project happen to be based in France, I wonder, Scott? Somewhere in the north?’

Scott laughed. ‘Naya, it looks like we’re busted,’ he said. Mira glanced at Naya; she was beaming.

‘Yes. We’ve been talking about it for a while, and we’re going to spend some time together,’ he said. ‘See how things go.’

As Scott spoke, Mira saw on his face an expression of such sincerity, such depth of emotion, that her heart seemed to swell in her chest, filling her ribcage.

It had been like this for her in all the months since she got back from Costa Rica – feeling everything more intensely, more deeply. Pain and joy, both amplified.

Behind her, Ezra called her name.

‘Coming, schatzi . I’ve got to go – we’ve got family coming over for Shabbat,’ she said.

‘It was so good to see you, Mira,’ Scott said. ‘Let’s stay in touch, all of us?’

She smiled at them both, nodded. ‘We will,’ she said. ‘We’re in each other’s lives now – for good, I hope.’

Then she waved goodbye, closed her laptop and headed to the kitchen, where Ezra was waiting for her.