Lindiwe Tyrell

It wasn't priority, Rosey knew that. Not when they'd be struggling with food soon enough unless Rosey and Hana actually left the beach. (And for plenty of reasons Rosey did not plan to do what the assholes demanded.) But the idea got stuck in her head at the beginning of the day when she saw the woman on the beach and asking wouldn't hurt.

Rosey found Lindi by what they called the Hub, and she put on her most open, interested, kind smile of hers as she approached the woman. "Hey! Lindi, right? Crazy times around here, hmm?" Fuck the people who were running this place, but that wasn't the point of what she was trying to do here. Make some connections, hopefully. "I know this might seem like a strange question, but it was you I could have seen running on the beach this morning, right?"

It wasn't exactly fair to blame her. But… shouldn't she look slightly more contrite, all things considered? "Yeah… crazy times…" Lindi said, catching a few glances of others who lingered by the Hub. She didn't like the fear she saw there, growing anger.

A rueful laugh. "That came out bad, didn't it. Like it's all he's good for. Honestly though, I can't help feeling a bit useless here. No survival skills like the Panganiban Squad, or medical superiority like Akhila."

Zaid grinned, encouraged by Lindi's droll return. "Maybe not the swooning part. I didn't say a thing about 'swooning', now did I?"

A hard swallow as he nodded, and exhaled. It often felt like a relief, bringing up Tej Virani with others for the first time. Like admitting to an addiction, or a mental illness for the first time. Just glad people got context for what was perpetually wrong with Zaid. Maybe even pity him, a bit. Lindi seemed to listen tersely, but Zaid couldn't be sure. Her description of Tej though, made Zaid smirk.

"Yes, exactly that. Like you pinched his fat cheeks too hard and he didn't like it," Zaid amused himself. The smile faded, then fought to return...then faded again as Zaid got lost in some Tej-related memory. Lindi - kind, perceptive, clever Lindi - steered the conversation effortlessly towards talking about powers. Zaid perked up.

"Right, yeah. So, seems Tej erm, manipulates light and that. Suck light right out of existence. Darcy can melt into shadows? And reappear elsewhere, into another shadow. It's what she told me. Darcy and I want to set up a practice area for powers, erm...by Obsidian Beach! Oh - and listen darling, I want to name the beach out here 'Odyssey Beach'. With the cruise ship and that, I just thought..." He thought Lindiwe would like it, and he was excited to tell her.

A glance at his hands. "I have this...oh Linds, it's just terrible, love. Destructive, and unpredictable. Shoots out of me body from all places - I'm trying to focus it - and it. It melts everything. Melted the hornets, didn't it. It's horrid. Builds up in me, feels like a flu, it does." He looked plaintively at her. "I don't feel fluish now, I promise."

His mild pleading fell to the sidelines, as Zaid was startled by Lindi questioning Tej and Darcy's account. He hadn't considered Tej wasn't telling the truth. Why hadn't he considered that? What would either have to gain for it? Maybe Tej wanted accolades - lazy thing, always looking for the easiest path - and Darcy...? Well who could predict Darcy. "I should...we should...we could corroborate their stories?" Zaid mumbled, then built steam as he kept going.

"I mean. Just to make sure and all. I did see the giant mega-hornet meself, with Darcy. No way of making that bugger up. Unless Darcy's also got a handle on making, erm. Dunno. Hallucinations?" He looked at Lindi with wide, round eyes, casting for answers. "Dunno, love. What'd you reckon?"

Lindi's chat about parental pride turned a bit fuzzy in Zaid's ears, but he snorted at her Sunak jibe. "Oh please, yeah. I'd rather me parents consider me a bastard than a twat, know what I mean." A haphazard reply, hardly witty, but Zaid couldn't stop gardening the seed that Lindi planted in his head. A lie. Tej's sting-scars were not lies. Tej wasn't a liar, unless one counted lies of omission. Or elaboration on truths.

Reorganizing the warehouse was exactly the distraction Zaid needed. He found lentils and put them aside for now. But his mind was on their work, and making it good and proper. Everything had to be good, proper. Perfect. He could trust in Lindi, at least.

And when she shared about her parents, Zaid's brain-fog cleared a little, he paid sharper attention to Lindi's tale. His thoughts circled right back to Tej again - also an orphan, when Zaid had found him. Parents who died far too early. Lindi had at least known hers, but perhaps that made it worse. (Zaid had a type: childhoods lost.)

"Oh dear. That really is a landmine, isn't it. I can't imagine how it all feels for you, darling..." Zaid wouldn't say anything assumptive, especially since any kindness would have to reference Lindi's own daughter. Her daughter, losing her own mummy so young, just as Lindi had lost hers. "Does it feel annoying, at this point? When people say 'sorry' and offer you condolences. All the sympathy you must've heard a million times before, and that. Is it irritating and tiresome? Or still welcome?"

He approached the workbenches lining the end of the warehouse, the exit door in the corner. Zaid pointed under the table, fetched a fallen stack of baskets from the floor. "Oi. Remember our favourite little hiding place? Imagine us, two of us crowded in there like kittens."

Lindi was pleased that her comment on Tej's sulkiness had struck right. She was never quite sure how hard to pile on when hating on someone's ex. It was hard to judge how far along on the continuum of 'hand drawer and quarter them' to 'I'm still deeply in love with them' someone else was. From the way Zaid smiled at the thought of Tej's cheeks, a brief flutter of his aura, she pitched him leaning to the latter side of the continuum.

Zaid launched into a ramble about Tej and Darcy's powers, and a disappointing comment about him and Darcy working together. Lindi nodded along as he kept talking, enjoying this chatty, energetic side of Zaid. A facet where he wasn't being droll and dry and smart, but genuine and excited. In the sunlight, his aura flickered with small rainbows, an extension of his happiness.

It was a shame when her own accusation caused his mood to noticeably dip. However, his solution was to corroborate their story. A suggestion which distinctly sounded risky, if not dangerous. "Didn't they say there was… magma?" Lindi posited, but then again, apparently Zaid's form of the man-flu was melting everything around him. Lindi glanced down at her hand, held in his, reminded herself that he wasn't feeling flu-y. "Well… if you think the answer is to corroborate their story… Maybe that would put a pin in it," Lindi said, carefully avoiding any 'we' statements that could rope her into subterranean exploration.

Organising the mess of the warehouse was soothing in the way good housework was. Something that kept her hands busy, something where she could immediately see the fruits of her labour. And something she could distract herself with while she tried to not give into the lump at the back of her throat. Zaid's first question was something she had never had asked before. Whether she disliked the condolences, the apologies and sympathy. She thought on it a moment. "It's heavy baggage, isn't it. And when most people ask about your parents they're making small talk, they aren't expecting something so heavy. I'm the one who feels bad for bringing up the landmine. It's when people are really apologetic for bringing it up, like they're the ones who personally gave my mum cancer." Lindi snorted at that.

"Or the people who decide that they want to bond by sharing some horrible, unrelated trauma that they've gone through, and decide that since I've told them I'm an orphan that this is now an unofficial group therapy session. That gets annoying." A quick acknowledgement of similar trauma was fine, but Lindi was specifically thinking of one networking evening from hell, where she'd been trapped by a wife recounting every traumatic event that had ever happened to her.

From the small table, Lokni watched as Lindi plated the scones with careful precision. However, when she turned to put them on the table, she faltered for a moment before quickly recovering, explaining the flavor of the clotted cream to him in a gentle manner. "It sounds delicious," Lokni replied, not wanting her to feel self-conscious about the small slip. Gazing down before him, perched on the plate was a layered puff pastry, golden-brown at the edges. The scent alone was enough to tempt Lokni's appetite, his stomach in knots with how ravenous he was. He had skipped breakfast for this auspicious occasion. Not needing any more prompting, Lokni took a scone, using the simple butter knife to spread the clotted cream across its flaky surface. Even in his anticipation, he couldn't help but notice the FLOWR symbol faintly engraved onto the handle of the knife. He concealed it with his thumb as he gripped the handle tightly. He took a bite and his tastebuds were met with the light, crumbly, and buttery goodness that Lindi had whipped up. "This is heavenly," Lokni sighed after he swallowed. "Where'd you learn how to bake something like that? You do a lot of uh- bake sales and whatnot?" He fumbled over his words, but he wasn't too worried about Lindi judging him. She was one of the more pleasant types after all.

Lokni offered to repay the favour with bannock. Lindi smiled politely and nodded at his offer of bannock. "The last time I had bannock was with some soup up in the Highlands." A ski trip with her school board friends, where Lindi did no skiing but a lot of drinking wine and coffee in the lodge. "So you can bet I'll hold you up to your offer. As long as I don't have to deal with those horrible monkey things." She was relieved when Lokni said they didn't bother his campsite.

But Zaid did say: "I hope Lokni is safe out there. Seems he set up his own little campsite away from the bungalows, yeah?" He sniffed, ever the hypocrite. "Better a creepy bungalow than the creepy forest, if anyone asked me."

An almost shy smile, as Lindi 'chastised' him for bravery. Him, bravery. And not of the entrepreneurial or creative kind, no 'oh you're so brave for opening a restaurant in the middle of a pandemic' or 'Chef Shair was brave for infusing such bold flavours'. This was actual, true bravery, like in films. "I never saw the fuss of a white knight," he said airily. "But I can't help if you're such an irresistible damsel, darling." Was that an insult? Surely not. Bated breath, as he waited for Lindi's reaction.

No judgement from Zaid, as Lindi confessed that she stayed mostly in hiding. His confession tumbled out too. "I suppose I would've hid with you, but. I was worried about my ex." Oooh, so brave, Zaid. "Turned out my ex saved the day, didn't he. That giant queen hornet monster that Darcy and I spotted in the woods, right? Tej and Darcy were the ones who managed to destroy it. Once it was gone - melted in a pit of lava, so he says - that's when all the other little hornets buggered back to the forest, off to where ever they came from."

Where did they originate from? A question for someone else. Zaid couldn't be bothered, not when his wondering stopped short with abject terror at the pit of skeletal remains behind the Medicentre.

"Ants..." Zaid repeated, cluelessly. "Imitating insect behaviour? A queen hornet and that? Blimey. Got me head all in a spin, all this mystery, don't it."

He did notice the way Lindi did not answer about her own parents, and instead swung it genteelly back to his past. He snorted. "Proud? You must've met Asian families, and the like. 'Proud' doesn't register unless it's boasting to other Asian relatives, love. I was given a job and surprisingly okay at it. I should be grateful for the learning opportunity." Still Zaid smiled, albeit grimly. "Family just...is."

At the state of the warehouse, Zaid echoed, quoting the TV show: "Goodness gracious me..." He was already rolling up his shirt sleeves, when Lindi asked about straightening up. Zaid beamed at her. "Darling, you've read my mind. I can't leave this with a clear conscience. Honestly I can't think of two better people to get this done, and done proper, can you? Right. Here -" He motioned first to a tall shelf, getting on one end of it so Lindi could get to the other side, and they could pull it back upright.

Organizing the shelves took a bit of pre-planning, but Zaid was unsurprised their mutual ideas ran completely in tandem. Taking turns: one stocked, the other planned ahead for the next section, and so on.

About twenty minutes into good work, Zaid's gaze flicked over to Lindi, and just watched her scribbling on a clipboard, a shaft of light hitting her halo of curls just so. He recalled the feel of her hand in his - cool, smooth, dry skin, tapered fingers. She looked immaculate, flawless to Zaid. He continued to work.

Yes, Lindiwe was stoking Zaid's ego by calling him brave, but she was grateful to him for that moment of protection. Somehow he turned the compliment back onto her, calling her an irresistible damsel. Lindi chuckled, rolling her eyes at the melodrama of it all, brushing the flattery under the rug. "I suppose it's not very feminist of me to be a swooning damsel," she dryly replied.

Apparently Lindi wasn't the only recipient of Zaid's bravery. "Your ex?" she replied, the face came to mind, a brooding, dark-gazed, Mr Darcy type. Apparently he had saved the day. Lindi raised her eyebrows in surprise, listening to Zaid's explanation. She couldn't suppress the haughty, light scoff that came out when Zaid mentioned that Tej and Darcy, of all people had destroyed the giant hornet monster that Lindiwe had been blissfully unaware of until this moment. Of course Darcy had embroiled herself in something so heroic.

"He's got a kind of sulky face, doesn't he?" Lindi commented first. "Your ex, Tej?" Lindi decided then and there, without having had a proper conversation with the man, that she didn't like Tej. For one, he was Zaid's ex, and she rather liked Zaid, so he ultimately had to be disliked. Secondly, she didn't like him for his association with Darcy. "I thought his powers had something to do with light, aren't you the one with the… hot liquid… something?" It wasn't that Lindiwe didn't believe that there had been some face-off with some untold horror in the woods, she just didn't want to believe that she was beholden to Darcy's bravery any more than she already was. "Sorry, I'm sure we should all be very grateful to them. It's just… well, we only have their word for it, I suppose. Do you trust that they're telling the truth? Darcy has a somewhat vague grasp on reality."

Talking about parents, familial pride, was a welcome digression. A return to more familiar conversational stomping grounds. She was happy to smile as Zaid brutally explained his family's tentative pride for him. "Oh please, yes I've met my share of Asian parents, and the pride extends out to boasting to non-Asian parents about their childrens' achievements and the success of their parenting methods. And who knows who you would have been if you hadn't had the opportunity to work at your uncle's shop," she teased him. "Maybe you would have been a doctor, or a lawyer. Given Rishi Sunak a run for his money?"

At the warehouse, Zaid immediately started to ready himself to tackle cleaning up. "Lentils can wait," she agreed, enjoying the way his aura sparkled at the challenge of cleaning things up. She couldn't think of anyone else who would have jumped at the opportunity to organise such a mess. Lindi tucked her shirt into her jeans, and walked to the other side of the shelf. Together, they could put things right again.

They found a natural rhythm working together, helped by unearthing the inventory list from under a pile of sheets and FLOWR branded clothing. Lindi's forehead wrinkled as she made her way down the list, checking that everything was put right on the shelf they had tidied up. She ticked off every item as they came to it, circling the inventory for the stock of toasters that was missing. Surely they were simply misplaced?

Lindiwe's earlier relief that Zaid hadn't noticed her failure to mention her parents was apparently premature. Gently, he ventured into the subject once more, offering an apology that sweetened her reaction to it. "No, you are fine. We're friends, aren't we? It's… I didn't want to be a downer." He had been glittering while talking about his family, even if he complained about their high expectations. "It is a bit of a landmine, sorry," she said, extra warning, a chance for him to interject if he didn't want to hear it.

Lindi gave him a pause, and then continued. "Both my parents are dead," she said, moving onto the next shelf and putting the organised items from the floor onto the shelves. She wanted to keep her hands busy. "My mother, she died when I was little, pancreatic cancer." Hospital disinfectant, harsh, fluorescent lights illuminating her mother in the bed, too skinny, her face hazy and half-remembered, put together more from photos than Lindi's memory. "And my father, he died when I was in uni." Turning on her phone after an exam, scanning through the missed phone calls and texts, shock hitting her like a run-away lorry.

She sits silently, attentive to Lindis words, to the questions that flood out. The shock at seeing the bodies was obvious and it had obviously rattled the poor girl to her core.

But it's only when she lapses back into sniffles once more that Una reaches out, carefully and slowly, placing one hand on top of Lindi's knee.

"You're a stay at home mom? Well, I think that makes you one of the most important people in the world."

Smiling gently with the words.

"Important isn't famous. It's not rich. It's not prestige. Ask anyone who the most important person is... It's never going to be a celebrity blogger or a movie star. It's going to be someone close. Family. Friend... Mom."

There's a slight pang in her chest at the word. She misses her boys. But they're grown now, with lives and families of their own. And there's a part of her that's thankful for that - and the fact that they aren't here.

"We don't know what happened. Or how or why. There's no reason to think our fate is sealed... This Island is full of tricks and tests. Who's to say this isn't just another. That the pit isn't something... Staged. And until we know - for sure - what happened, then we can't assume anything."

We. Not 'you'. Never once saying that what Lindi was going through was silly or wrong in any way, her doubts, her fears, were entirely valid.

The hand pats Lindis knee gently.

"Me either. And if we're going to make sure that doesn't happen, then I think we're going to have to work together. Help and support each other. You already made an amazing start with the meeting. Bringing everyone together. Trying to organise things. You did that, sweetie. You."

"Are you… Do you have kids?" Lindi asked Una, already suspecting so. She hadn't met anyone else with children, anyone else who really understood the added terror of being removed from them. Not that she wanted Paige here, not in a million years. "It's killing me, being here… not being there with her." Especially because she knew what it was like to lose a parent at this age.

Una was a voice of rationality which Lindi desperately needed. She breathed out a slow stream of air, nodding along with Una's suggestions. Tricks and tests, something staged. Close enough to reality to be comforting, but not far enough removed to be outrageous. "I am very, very sick of these tricks and tests," she said, righteous anger fizzing to the surface from the depths of her despair.

That fizz turned into a simmer as Una talked about working together, supporting each other, organising. Lindi, still crying, did her best to put on a brave face, nodding emphatically with Una. Momentum, forward movement. Focus on doing something productive with the rumination depression and anxiety wanted to paralyse her with. "We… We should do something," Lindi agreed, reaching out to place her hand over Una's. "I… I don't know what but… We can't keep going on knowing nothing."