There wasn’t much to say afterwards… or, at least, I thought so. She, though, had other ideas and so she told me all she could say about it…. This took some time.
Since we were – as far as I could tell – stranded there, there wasn’t much else to do, at least until the shock wore off, so I just sat there and listened to it all.
As far as she could see, it was – obviously – all someone else’s fault, but for the moment she couldn’t quite see who deserved the most blame.
As she went on… and on… and on, I looked around. As desert islands go, suppose it was more or less typical. However, I’m no expert and all I know about such places is what I’ve seen in films and various TV programmes. There was one I remembered from when I was young, very young, back in the days of black and white TV, when there had been a TV series about Robinson Crusoe. All I remembered from it was a long sandy beach with footprints and – possibly – a parrot that just said ‘poor, poor Robinson’ all the time.
Personally, I would have strangled that parrot after a few weeks. I looked over at her, still muttering away about suing the travel company, the boat owners and all and sundry and wondered if I would be able to stop myself from strangling her, if we were still stranded here after a few weeks of just the two of us.
I got up and wandered away from her, hoping I could find some way of getting us off the island before the visions of my hands tight around her neck got too strong to resist. I was hoping she would not follow me, but then as this shipwreck shows, I’ve never been that lucky.
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