'Oh, OK… Why not both of us?'

Jed made an exasperated sobbing sound. 'Why do you think, you dozy fool? Someone has to stay here to look after the sick people, and almost all the fishing detail is out of action. Only the Swedes and Keaty are healthy, and Keaty's still missing.'

I nodded. 'I guess that means me.'

'No. It means me. I need to stay here because I know some stuff about first aid, so you'll be going up to the island alone. Are you up to that?'

'You bet!' I said brightly. 'No sweat at all!'

'Good. Now before you go I want you to find Keaty. There's about fifteen who are well enough to eat, so someone's going to have to get food for them, but I won't have time to go fishing, so he'll have to do it.'

'OK. And what should I do if Zeph and Sammy are on their way?'

'They won't be.'

'But what if they are?'

Jed paused. 'I'm trying not to think about it, but if they are then get back here as fast as you can and tell me.'

'And if there's no time?'

'Plan B.'

'…Which one?'

'You wait and see what happens. I'm positive they'll turn back at the dope fields, but if they don't then follow them to the waterfall. Then, if they get down, intercept them and make fucking sure they know not to start talking about your map.'

Across the clearing, Jesse appeared out of the longhouse. He wobbled towards the bathroom hut, got about a quarter of the way there, and threw up.

'Right,' I said, suddenly feeling immensely cheerful. After last night I hadn't expected the next day to start so well, 'I'd better find Keaty then.'

There was only one bad note to the morning. On the way to the beach I passed Sal sitting outside the longhouse and she called me over. It turned out that Bugs – who was sitting next to her and giving me the evil eye – had told her what I'd done to him. Sal wanted an explanation.

I was slick. I said that I'd been exhausted and was only catching my breath before I gave him a hand outside, and if Bugs remembered it differently I was truly sorry, but maybe his sickness had warped his memory of the incident. Then I suggested we shook on it, and that pleased Sal a lot. She was so hassled, what with everything else she had to deal with, that she was more than ready to get the distraction out of the way.

Bugs wasn't though. When I set off again for the beach he hobbled after me and called me a bastard. He was really angry, poking his finger in my chest and saying what he'd do to me if only he were well enough. I waited until he'd finished, then told him to fuck off. I wasn't going to let him spoil my good mood.

Epitaph

Keaty was sleeping in the same spot I'd left him. High tide was well on its way, and it wasn't going to be long before the wash reached his feet, so rather than wake him I decided to smoke a cigarette. I assumed he'd had a rough night and could do with the extra fifteen minutes. I was just getting down to the filter when the Swedes appeared. I put my finger to my lips, pointing at Keaty, and we walked out of earshot.

Karl, Sten, Christo. Considering that two of them ended up dead and the other ended up nuts, I feel bad that their names mean so little to me.

Like Jed, the Swedes had arrived at the beach uninvited, and although they'd probably found it easier to get accepted, having arrived second, it partly explained why they chose to fish outside the lagoon. They'd never been as involved in beach life as everyone else. They were around but they kept mainly to themselves, all sharing a single tent and often eating away from the crowd. The only times I ever saw them socially participating was on Sundays. They were good footballers and everyone wanted them for their team.

If they had found integration difficult, it can't have helped that only one of them, Sten, could speak fluent English. Christo could just about muddle along but Karl was hopeless. As far as I knew, his vocabulary was limited to a few words based around fishing, like 'fish' and 'spear', and a couple of pleasantries. He would greet me with an uncertain, 'Huloo Ruchard,' and would bid me good morning even if he was just about to go to bed.

'So,' I said, when we were a safe distance from Keaty. 'You've got your work cut out for you today.'

Sten nodded. 'But there is only half the camp to fish for, no? We only need to catch fifteen fishes. Not so difficult, I think… Would you like to fish with us?'

'No. I'll be staying here.'

'You are sure? There is room for four in the boat, and you may be lonely working alone.'

I smiled. 'Thanks, but Keaty will wake up soon.'

'Ah yes, Keaty. Is he sick?'

'No, he's fine. A bit down, but he didn't get food poisoning.'

'That is good. Well, we should be going. We will see you later, Richard.'

'OK.'

Sten said something to the other two in Swedish. Then they walked down to the shore and began swimming for the caves.

It was a short, bland conversation. Not the sort of conversation you'd want to be remembered by. I've tried to think of ways to jazz it up a bit, to make it more poignant or more of an epitaph, but the best I could think of was some kind of pun based around Sten saying, 'See you later.' Something along the lines of, I didn't see him later but I did see him late. Dead late. Late/dead. 'I saw him later, though not in the way I expected… I saw him late!' It doesn't even make sense.

I also looked for extra information to provide about their characters, aside from their similarities with Jed and their football skills, but our relationship had completely revolved around a vague rivalry based on fish sizes. I barely knew them. If two of them hadn't died I doubt I'd have given them a second thought.

So, if I'm going to be honest, I suppose their epitaph must be this: If you've ever sat down with an old school friend and tried to remember all the kids that used to be in your class, the Swedes were the kids you remembered last.

The only thing I'd tag on the end was that they seemed like decent guys, and they shouldn't have had to die that way. Especially Sten.

Eventually I got bored with waiting for the tide to reach Keaty's feet, so I scooped some water in my hands and poured it on his head.

'Hi,' I said, after he'd recovered from the shock. 'Did you sleep all right?'

He shook his head.

'Me neither.' I squatted beside him. 'I got about four hours.'

'…Are things bad in the camp?'

'They were last night. It's better now, but people are still pretty sick.'

Keaty sat up and rubbed the sand off his legs and arms. 'I should get back. Got to help.'

'Then don't go back. You'll only have to come back here. They want you to do some fishing.'

'They want me to go fishing?'

'That's what Jed said. All the fishers are ill except for the Swedes and Moshe, and Moshe's busy looking after people in the longhouse. That only leaves you.'

'It leaves you too.'

'Uh, yeah… but…' I thought for a moment.' …I really need some sleep. I mean, when I said I got four hours, it was more like three. Or two and a half. I'm going to collapse if I don't get some rest…' Keaty still didn't look convinced so I added, 'Also, if you turn up with food instead of empty-handed, it might calm Sal down a bit. She's pretty pissed off that you haven't been around to help.'

'Yeah, I heard her calling for me last night. That's why I didn't go back to my tent.' He shrugged wearily. 'But I've got to go back some time, and… I don't know if it's such a good idea me going fishing. I mean, that's what caused all this.'

'I haven't talked to anyone who sees it that way.'

'I could help at the camp.'

I shrugged. 'The camp needs fish.'

'You really think I should do the fishing?'

'Uh-huh. I was specifically told to find you and give that message.'