Sins of Sarah (42 page)

Nick was troubled from fairly early on by a bite that swelled on his left arm and despite all Madeleine's efforts it seemed to remain, making him even more irritable, especially at night. Several times she begged him to let a local healer look at him, but Nick laughed her off. 'No old biddy is going to mutter incantations over me!' he told her firmly.'It's only a bite, Maddy, it'll go down sooner or later. Otherwise I'll wait until we get back to Belem, and see a doctor there. Happy?'

'Stubborn sod!' Madeleine retorted cheerfully. 'Don't blame me if your arm drops off!'

Nick ruffled her cap of dark curls. 'Such a comfort you are, angel! Does that go as far as a beer?' Madeleine laughed back and reached into her ever-present pack. It contained pretty well every convenience.

'Warm, probably,' she warned, and tossed it to him. 'And the last one till we get back to base - make the most of it.' Nick always seemed to be thirsty these days. He put it down to all the shots he'd had topped up before he came out to the Amazon, but at that moment he frowned. He had never had any effect from shots before, and he reasoned that he should be used to them by now. Working in often remote parts of the world meant that he always kept his injections up to date; they were part of the medical checks insisted on by the film's insurers.

He decided he was making a thing about nothing. They were all feeling under the weather, indeed several members of the crew had already been sent back to Rio with various illnesses. Nick was determined he wouldn't be one of them. Though if he was, he realized one morning, when he felt particularly dreadful, then at least he would get back to the UK, and Sarah, that much quicker.

For a few minutes he was incredibly tempted to try it, until the next crisis arose and he automatically went to deal with it. Like Sarah, he knew he couldn't back out of a deal - too many people depended on him - and he finally shrugged it off.

He missed her desperately, missed her warm, chatty letters and the sound of her voice on the telephone. It seemed weeks since he had received a letter from her, and he cursed the situation he found himself in. His one consolation was the infrequent messages from Seth about the Palm Springs purchase, which was going ahead in his absence under the eagle eyes of Waterston's lawyers. The first thing they would do together, he told himself, was furnish their house, and the thought cheered him through many dreary days of foul weather and wading around in the endless sea of mud.

At night, as with Sarah, the longing was worse. Even if his body was exhausted it was difficult to sleep in the steamy humidity that never let up. Though their mock Indian village had a series of reasonably comfortable bungalows built onto it for the cast and crew to live in, there was certainly no air-conditioned comfort. It did save commuting back to the town every night, however, and with a small but efficient staff imported from LA it was preferable to stay there rather than face the horrible journey. They ate their own food, which was simple but edible, and even had a fairly well-stocked bar to call on. But they had quickly found that the picturesque thatched bungalows leaked like the proverbial sieves, and learned to sleep with buckets or bowls handy to catch the worst of them.

Nick lay awake night after night, his mind on Sarah, and Madeleine frequently heard him pacing the veranda early in the morning. But it was useless remonstrating with him, though she tried. 'Nick, you'll crack up at this rate!' she warned him in her motherly way. 'You need sleep badly, and you aren't eating properly.'

'I don't particularly feel like eating, Maddy,' Nick admitted. 'I hope I'm not going down with one of those bugs. I can't afford to be ill - not after all this battle to keep the schedule more or less on time, not now we're so close to finishing.'

'Is your arm bothering you still?' Madeleine caught at his wrist and quickly jerked up the cuff of his shirt that hung loose. She was too quick for him to stop her and she gazed at his swollen forearm in horror. 'For God's sake, Nick! This is a real mess! Why the hell didn't you say something?'

'It's only got worse the last day or so,' he lied. 'I thought it could wait until we go back to Coari or Belem.'

'Well, it won't! Let me get the village woman to look at it at least?' Madeleine coaxed.

Nick was in too much pain to argue with her by that time, though when half an hour later she returned with a middle-aged native woman with wizened skin and very black teeth he rather wished he had. With everything else to worry about he had tried to ignore the troublesome swelling. His apprehension grew as she clucked and muttered over it for long minutes before she finally dug into the straw bag she carried and began rubbing a cold-feeling salve onto it.

'What on earth is she doing?' he demanded of a fascinated Madeleine.

'Bad things in here,' the woman told him. 'They must come out.'

'I think she's going to lance it,' Madeleine volunteered. 'Get the swelling down.'

'What the hell with? Oh, my God, not with that!' Nick stared in shock at the curved knife that appeared in her hand. 'Get her out of here!'

'Very quick,' she told him, patting his arm.

'Shut up. Nick!' Madeleine put in. 'And don't be such a coward! I'm surprised at you!'

'It's all right for you!' he retorted, wincing as the knife touched his skin. Laughing, Madeleine took hold of his other hand.

'Come on, baby, I'll hold your hand for you,' she offered. 'It's poison, Nick, it has to come out.' She did her best to reassure him, having been told what it was likely to be and deciding that it was best Nick didn't know. 'Look the other way,' she advised.

But Nick didn't. He was riveted to the knife that slid through his distorted flesh, expecting the blood, and pain but to his everlasting shame he took one terrified look and fainted at their feet.

* * *

The treatment had been primitive, but it had had the desired effect. His arm was bandaged and in a sling, but for a week or two he felt far more able to cope. The weather improved slightly, and they even had several miraculous days without rain. Picking up shots he had thought he would have to do without cheered him enormously, and life took on a rosier hue altogether. Refusing to consider going back to Belem to recuperate, since finally he could get some work done, he battled on, convinced things were going his way at last. Even rest days on site were ignored in his push to keep to the murderous schedule he had set for himself. Anything to finish and get back to LA, he told himself, and pushed even harder.

Madeleine and Bud begged him to take it easier but he refused to listen. Without access to regular weather bulletins he had no choice but to keep working while the weather held, he told them firmly, and work they did.

Nobody seriously minded the work; they were as anxious as he was to get the job finished and on time.

Actual money was in short supply, since all their currency had to be negotiated in Rio and cash brought up to them to pay their bills locally. Even, it was whispered amongst their native helpers, to pay off the rumoured bandits who were supposed to linger in the surrounding area. Nick doubted it, but he made sure they didn't take any more risks than they needed to, and the whole crew, native and American, guarded Madeleine and the one make-up girl as if they were rare and precious commodities when that particular rumour began to circulate amongst the already strung-out crew.

Elated by the fantastic footage he was getting, and the editor's enthusiastic reports. Nick decided to add more library shots to help the editing when they got back to the States. The sunset promised to be clear and perfect that evening, and he cheerfully bribed Lenny to forgo his evening drinking session and go out with him to shoot.

I'll come too,' Madeleine decided. 'I could do with the exercise; I've been typing all day.' 'Well, don't moan if you can't keep up,' Lenny told her. 'I'm in a hurry, and it'll be no fun if we get stuck out there in the dark.' 'No chance.' Nick shrugged. 'We'll take one of the guides with us. Don't worry, Len, we'll get back in time for you to get a couple in!' They rounded up a guide, a rather sour little runt of a man, and set off briskly, bouncing along the rough tracks in the battered Jeep they used as transport to the spot high above the river that Nick had noticed on a previous expedition. As he had hoped, the view of the river and the darkly encroaching trees made beautiful pictures, and they set up and took some stunning shots of the landscape before they finally got the sunset they were waiting for.

It was magnificent, and Nick and Madeleine stood watching it in awe.

'God, I wish Sarah was here to see this,' Nick sighed.

'I bet she'd love it.' Madeleine, knowing the situation, squeezed his hand sympathetically. 'Cheer up. Nick only a few weeks to go.'

'Thank goodness,' Nick sighed. 'I'm not sure I can hold on much longer. Christ! I've got such a headache, Maddy. Do you have any aspirin with you?' Madeleine pulled some out of her bag, laden as usual.

'That's the third headache in as many days,' she chided. 'Are you sure you're OK, Nick?'

'Nothing going home won't cure.' He grimaced, and swallowed the pills dry, choking slightly from the effect.

Madeleine ran back to the Jeep and found a bottle of water to toss to him. He needed it desperately, and drank most of it in one go.

'You should have taken the chance to rest this evening instead of doing this,' she said crossly. 'You never learn, Nick.'

'Give me a break,' Nick snapped back. 'I can sleep all night! Come on, then, Lenny, get a move on.'

'Stop giving the girl a hard time, Nicholas,' Lenny warned as he packed the camera back into its protective bag. 'She only has your best interests at heart, and, frankly, you're beginning to look as if you have a permanent hangover or something. You look dreadful, mate.'

'If I want your advice Lenny, I'll ask for it,' Nick said. 'And that goes for you too, Madeleine. I feel fine.' He didn't feel anything like it, but that was for his own thoughts only. He felt sick and cold, then hot and dizzy, and had been all day. He put it down to the wound on his arm playing up, and cursed the woman who had lanced it so crudely, convinced that she had made things worse, though the nurse, on dressing it, had commented favourably enough on the work that had been done. The native woman had even stitched it together, he had discovered when he had finally recovered consciousness, apologizing profusely to a giggling Madeleine. She teased him un mercifully about it, bringing forth all kinds of promised retributions from Nick if she dared to tell Sarah about it!

Slowly, he made his way back to the Jeep, and found to his amazement that he could only manage to climb into it with the greatest of effort, whereas he had sprung out of it only an hour or so before. 'Len,' he said, 'I think you may be right. I do feel really strange.'

'Nick!' Madeleine leapt at him as he swayed across the seat. She caught him just in time to prevent him falling back out of the cab, shrieking at Lenny to help her. Nick was so hot his skin seemed to bum her hands as she struggled to hold him. 'Lenny, he's ill - really ill. Feel his skin!'

'I'll be... fine. . . let's just get back. . .' Nick groaned, not wanting them to fuss.

His head hurt so badly that every bump and jolt of the truck made him want to scream with pain. Madeleine held him against her to try and cushion the friction, and eventually in desperation he buried his head into the curve of her neck in a fruitless effort to ease the pain. Lenny drove as carefully as he could, but in the darkening jungle it was a nightmare to try and see where they were going, even with their guide hanging out of the vehicle to tell him the way. By the time they finally made it back to the village Nick was almost delirious from the pain, and they had to summon help from other members of the crew to lift him out of the Jeep. Even though he had lost weight recently, he was still too heavy to lift easily.

Madeleine took charge automatically and made them take him to her own room. It was far more comfortable than Nick's, and she had her first aid equipment to hand. Not that there was a great deal she could do. 'Where's Erica?' she demanded as her first question, knowing that the nurse had been in the village that afternoon.

'Nothing for her to do,' Bud said. 'She went back to Coari.'

'Then radio for her and get her back up here fast,' Madeleine ordered. 'And get a doctor, if you can. Bud. We sure as hell need one.' Frantic now, she turned back to Nick, who was throwing off the blanket she had just put over him. His skin was burning, though his face was ashen under his deep tan. As Bud rushed to carry out her orders she ran to the tap that served for water and filled a basin under it. Wringing out a cloth, she tried to sponge his face to cool him, but he groaned at even the light the pressure of her hands and immediately tried to push her away, thrashing about the bed in an attempt to evade her.

'Get some ice, Lenny,' she decided. 'I'll try that. Nick, honey, don't fight it. Please, I want to help.' He was moaning unintelligibly, tossing on the bed, and she stood for a moment trying to think logically. Finally, and with a great deal of effort, she managed to get first his soaking shirt and then his shoes and chinos off him, before she tried to put the sheet over him again. He constantly threw it off, and she resorted to swearing at him as she tried to bathe his skin with cool water. Eventually, her somewhat crude efforts had an effect, and by the time Lenny came back he was a great deal quieter.

'I'll stay with him,' she told Lenny as she wrapped the ice in a cloth to put on his forehead. 'I can sleep in the chair.'