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Charlie sat in the window of the small cafe which looked out over rugged coastline. A couple of surfers bobbed out in the break, their boards lifting and dipping with the surf. Waves hit the rocks, and spray burst out of blow holes in the cliffs.
The bell above the cafe door dinged as it opened, and Charlie smiled as Kelly George, a local reporter, walked in. The other woman lifted a hand in greeting as she recognized Charlie, and then headed over to the table.
“G’day Miss Charleston.” She dropped her bag to the ground beside the chair opposite Charlie’s. “Can I order you anything? This place does the best Paua patties,” she said, naming one of the local shellfish.
Charlie shook her head. “No, I’m fine thank you. I’ve already ordered a coffee.”
The reporter slid into the seat opposite her. “Can I just say that I’m so pleased you’ve chosen to talk to me. I know you’ve been staying away from publicity since you were rescued, and honestly, I completely understand.”
Charlie nodded. “The time is right now. I don’t want to talk about my old life, but the things I saw on the island have caused me to get involved with this project. I’ve never thought to use my ridiculous celebrity status for anything good before, but my experiences a few months ago have stayed with me, and I wanted to make a difference.”
The waitress arrived with Charlie’s coffee, and they fell silent as it was placed on the table in front of them.
“Thank you,” said Charlie.
The young waitress smiled. “No worries.”
Kelly waited for the waitress to leave, and then leaned forward. “So is that why you’ve been working with Sustainable Coasts here in New Zealand, because of your experience on the island?”
“Yes. I can’t pretend that all the plastic trash washed up on the beach wasn’t useful to our survival, but it was also shocking. I had no idea that millions of liters of trash are washed up on what should be the most beautiful coastlines in the world. Plastic bags, bottle tops, polystyrene, and food wrappers. Even the sand is now made up of tiny pieces of plastic. If only one person reads this interview because they see my name attached to it, and they educate themselves about what is really happening to all the throwaway plastic we use in our modern society, then at least I’ll feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.”
“And have you been out on any beach cleanups yourself?”
She nodded. “Every one I’ve been able to. Thirteen cleanups now, and I plan to do plenty more. I don’t have any fear of getting my hands dirty. I’m only one person, but even if I can’t change the world, I can at least make a difference.”
“You say you’re only one person, but what about Tyler Janson, the ex-Marine you were stranded with? Am I correct in believing you are still together?”
“We are working together for the charity, yes.”
“But are you together, together?”
Charlie glanced down at her coffee, and hid her smile. “I’m not here to discuss my personal life, Kelly.”
“Not even a hint for the readers?”
“No, I’m sorry. My personal life has nothing to do with the charity.”
“I can’t press you on it?”
“You can press me as much as you like, but my lips are sealed.”
The reporter laughed. “Okay, okay. Honestly, I’m just thrilled you’re willing to speak with me. My editor has been making me the coffee for once.”
“I researched you carefully, Kelly. I saw that most of your posts are steered toward the greener way of living, and that you rarely write the kind of personal pieces that have haunted me my whole life.”
After their rescue, it had felt like every single person she’d ever known spoke to some reporter or another. She and Tyler had left for New Zealand as soon as they’d been given the all clear from the hospital, and had settled in Wairoa, a small coastal town. They’d done exactly what Tyler had suggested for the first few weeks, enjoying each other, and exploring their new surroundings, and then one day she’d been taking her daily walk along the beach and had come across a group of people picking up trash along the tide line. It had only taken a few questions for her to be introduced to the leader of the group, and she’d been welcomed in with the usual warmth and friendliness she’d come to expect from the Kiwis. She’d attended a couple of the cleanups, and then one of the other volunteers recognized her. There was no point in lying about her identity, it would be found out sooner or later, and she didn’t want to spend her whole life running.
“So what’s the message you want to give to our readers today, Miss Charleston?”
She broke from her thoughts to continue with the interview. “The most important thing is creating large scale awareness of the problem, and then giving people achievable solutions. I simply want people to think about the impact the every day plastics they use have on the environment. A few easy changes can make a huge difference. For example, stop using plastic carrier bags and invest in a couple of good reusable bags instead. Don’t buy fruit and vegetables pre-packaged. Stop purchasing drinks in plastic bottles unless you live in a part of the world where the drinking water isn’t safe. And above all, recycle, recycle, recycle. If something can be used again, please don’t throw it in the trash. I want this world to still be here for future generations, but unless we change our ways, we’re going to choke the planet with pieces of plastic.”
Kelly nodded. “All wise words. So, about these future generations... are children something you can see in your future?”
Charlie gave a secret smile. “Yes, one day, when the time is right, I’d love to have kids. I just hope we still have a planet left for them.”
“And would those children be with a certain man you recently spent time on the island with?”
Charlie couldn’t blame the woman for trying. “I couldn’t possibly say.”
The reporter edged her arms farther across the tabletop, closing the gap between them in her eagerness. “You know, I’d love an interview with Tyler, if he was ever around?”
Charlie gave a short laugh. “Sorry. He’d rather cut off both feet than speak to a reporter.”
She shrugged and leaned back again. “Ah well, I had to ask.”
“Sure, I understand.”
Charlie took a couple of sips of her cooling coffee and checked her watch. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I really have to get going.”
Kelly gathered her things and got to her feet. “No problem. Thanks for speaking with me. I’ll put the interview together and email you a copy.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
She stood and shook the woman’s hand, and then waited until she’d left before picking up her belongings and paying for her coffee.
As she stepped out of the cafe, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to one side. She stifled a scream but warm lips pressed against her neck, and she recognized his familiar scent.
“So, how did it go?” Tyler spoke against her skin.
She twisted in his arms to look up into his strong, handsome face. He’d kept a scruff of beard which he’d grown on the island, but he’d put back on all the weight he’d lost while they’d been stranded. His skin was tan and healthy, his dark eyes with a sparkle to them. The New Zealand lifestyle suited him. It was rugged and practical, just as he was. Everyone here was exactly who they said they were, no airs and graces, or unnecessary formalities.
“As well as can be expected. It was weird being interviewed again, and I had to fend off a few awkward questions, but I hope I’ve got the word out about the charity.”
He lowered his head and captured her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. She allowed herself to sink into him, the tension she’d been holding in her shoulders due to the prospect of being interviewed again melting away at his touch.
Tyler broke the kiss and stared down at her. He lifted his hand and ran the back of his finger down her cheek, making her shiver with pleasure.
“I’m proud of you,” he told her. “You’ve handled this all so well.”
“I feel different now. The time on the island changed me. Meeting you has changed me. I always felt like I couldn’t handle publicity before, like it was a giant machine I somehow got caught up in and couldn’t escape. Now my head is finally on straight, and I’ve got direction, focus ...” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that make sense?”
He kissed her nose. “Perfect sense.”
“I know people are going to track us down now, but I feel ready to handle it. They can’t dish any dirt on me anymore, because there isn’t any to dish. I have you now, and I know with every fiber of my heart that you wouldn’t tell them anything. Soon enough, they’ll get bored and go away.”
He squeezed her hand. “Exactly. So what were the awkward questions she asked?”
“Oh, the usual. Stuff about us, and the island. She wanted to know if I was ever planning to have children.” Her cheeks heated upon broaching the topic with him.
“I hope you told her yes.”
She gave a small smile. “Well, I told her maybe one day, with the right guy.”
He leaned down and growled in her ear. “I’m that right guy.”
She couldn’t hide her grin. “So what are you saying to me, Tyler Janson? That you want me to bear your children?”
“Yes, bear my children, help me create a home ...” He paused and then added, “Be my wife.”
Her heart lifted and somersaulted in her chest. “Was that a proposal?”
“I don’t have a ring, and I’m not down on one knee, but yes, I guess it was. I can’t think of any future I want more than one where I have you to come home to at night, and to wake up again with in the morning. For our children to have your beauty and kind heart—”
“And your practical nature,” she interrupted.
He grinned. “That, too. So, what do you think?”
She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. “I think you just made me the happiest woman alive. You know, you helped me survive, and I don’t just mean on the island. You saved my life twice Tyler, once on the island and again now we’re back in real life.”
He smiled at her. “You brought me back to life the moment I saw you standing on that runway with your flimsy flip-flops on your feet. I didn’t think I’d love anyone again the way I love you. You saved me too, Charlie.”
She swept her lips softly against his. “My life is yours.”
“And mine is yours.”
And he kissed her back.
Acknowledgments
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IT’S NOT OFTEN I AM thankful to my husband for his love of documentaries, but in this case I am. It is your love of survival shows that inspired Survivor, so, even though I’d still rather be watching my shows than yours, thank you for opening my eyes to this story.
As I did with my novel, Cut Too Deep, I posted Survivor chapter by chapter to Wattpad. A huge thank you to all the readers over on Wattpad, for all your votes and suggestions. I loved reading each and every one of your comments.
Many thanks to my wonderful friend and airline enthusiast, Lorriane Tricket. Your years working on airplanes, together with your obsession with air disaster shows, made you the perfect person to run all my aircraft information through. Thanks for putting up with my numerous questions!
A big thank you, as always, to my editor Lori Whitwam. I know you are one busy lady, and I really appreciate you still finding the time to fit in my books.
Thank you, as well, to my proofreaders, Glynis Elliott and Kim Hayes. I hope you enjoyed Charlie and Tyler’s story. Apologies to Glynis for any pink faces!
And, of course, thank you to my readers. You keep me writing with your loyal support and kind words. I wouldn’t be an author if it wasn’t for you!
If you want to stay updated about my new releases, please sign up to my new release list on my blog. You will receive notification of when a new book comes out, together with exclusive previews and sales!
www.marissa-farrar.blogspot.com
Thank you once again.
Marissa.
SURVIVOR
Copyright © 2015 Marissa Farrar
Warwick House Press
Edited by Lori Whitwam
Cover art by Marissa Farrar
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.