Heller's Revenge (33 page)

A long, curious glance from
Alex. “Of course. Tilly, you’re most welcome to join us.”

“Thanks Alex. Sounds fun.”

“Excellent. We’ll pick you up
from your hotel at ten tomorrow morning.”

“Done,” said Meili and we left
the restaurant, farewelling Alex and walking back to the hotel.
Meili’s phone rang and he took the call. While he did so, I gave
Heller a quick ring to let him know the outcome of the court
case.

“What are you going to do for
the rest of the day?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet. Whatever
Meili wants to do. Probably something fun. Talk to you later.” My
phone calls with him were becoming shorter and shorter.

What Meili wanted to do was hire
some bikes and go cycling, but he told me that his phone call had
been from the country’s only serious current affairs program, shown
on the national broadcaster. They wanted Meili to do a pre-recorded
interview for the night’s show.

“Should I?” he questioned.

I shrugged. “I guess all
publicity is good publicity for you, isn’t it?”

He rang them back and agreed to
be interviewed. They asked him to come to the studio straight away,
so we hailed a taxi and directed it to the station’s studio.

It wasn’t a hostile interview,
the show’s host, a renowned journalist, obviously sympathetic to
Meili’s goals but asking a couple of tough questions about the
vandalism. Meili calmly repeated what he had said outside the
courthouse. He apologised again for the inconvenience and any
damage, but didn’t apologise for doing it in the first place. I
stood to the side and watched, impressed with his confidence and
poise. He made a great impression on the host.

There was still time after the
interview to fit in a bike ride. We quickly changed at the hotel
and hired some bikes and gear from the same booth we’d used the day
before. I led him to a great bike path that stretched the entire
distance of the harbour, from the city to the bay. It was a long
ride there and back, taking several hours, but it was a good
release from the rest of the day’s activities. The sun was shining,
it wasn’t too hot and I enjoyed the afternoon and the view.

That evening we dined casually
in the hotel restaurant.

“What do you live on, Meili?” I
asked him, my curiosity getting the better of me as usual.

“I’m sponsored by a few
conservation groups, which gives me a small regular income. Then
there are donations from the public and some large bequests in
supporters’ wills. I earn a little money from public speaking on
occasion, although I mostly give my talks for free, as I did
yesterday. I’m offered some academic work now and then and also
grants for ecological research. I manage to scratch by.” He smiled
as he sipped on his wine. “I freeload off my friends a lot too. In
fact this trip, including the cost of your services, is being paid
for by some local benefactors who wish to remain anonymous. You’d
be surprised where my financial support comes from. It’s often very
rich people, including a lot of celebrities, who need some salve
for their consciences at earning so much money for doing so
little.”

After dinner we returned
upstairs to watch the broadcast of his interview. He came across
very well, not fanatical in the slightest, but rational, caring and
intelligent. He answered the interviewer’s questions calmly, with
an attractive dose of self-deprecating humour. Nobody would have
judged him as an eco-terrorist on the basis of that interview.

He suggested we catch a movie
that evening and we spent the next couple of hours goggling at the
latest Hollywood action blockbuster, riveted by the explosions, car
chases and beautiful people in terrible trouble. We argued
good-humouredly about whether the movie had any deeper meaning the
entire walk back to the hotel. It was quite late by the time we
returned. I reassured Heller of my continuing survival in a five
second phone call, cutting him off to hang up and hit the sack
immediately, not wanting to read even a single page of my book.
Meili was already fast asleep by the time I hung up and turned off
my bedside lamp.

The prospect of staying
overnight on a small boat was incredibly exciting for me, as I’d
never had the opportunity before. My sole seafaring episode had
been a weeklong cruise on a huge liner with my girlfriends, where
I’d spent half the time in the bathroom battling an unpleasant
gastro bug I’d picked up from the buffet. When I finally found time
to ring him the next morning, Heller wasn’t thrilled with the idea
of the excursion at all because I couldn’t assure him that there
would be any mobile coverage outside of the harbour. I didn’t know
what to say to him, because I simply didn’t know if I could keep in
touch.
Probably not
, I thought, trying to ignore the tiny
surge of relief I felt at possibly being freed for twenty-four
hours from the burden of continually contacting him.

“You’re going out of phone range
with two strangers and a person we barely know. And I might not be
able to contact you. I’m not happy about it, Matilda. How am I
going to know that you’re all right?” he demanded, a little
grouchy, his accent growing more pronounced.

“I don’t know, Heller. I’m sure
I’ll be okay. Everyone seems nice so far.”

He insisted that I find out the
name of the boat, the intended route and whether I would be
contactable. Embarrassed, I asked Alex all of those questions when
he came to pick us up. His wife, Sali, a young, beautiful and
petite Indian woman, in the second trimester of her pregnancy with
their first child, was in the passenger seat. She smiled in a very
welcoming way to me when I stepped into the car. Alex told me the
boat was called
Lady Hawk
and that he was only intending on
venturing past the heads to deeper water, but not too far from
civilisation. He also told me that I should have no problems
receiving a signal on my phone, as we’d remain reasonably close to
the coast. I was surprised to hear that.

We drove to the marina and
picked our way through the wharves until we reached the jetty where
Lady Hawk
was moored. I didn’t know much about boats, but
Alex proudly informed me that it was a 10.5 metre, four-berth boat,
comfortable but not luxurious, practical rather than ornamental. I
rang Heller when I found a chance, to relay to him the name of the
boat, where we were heading, that I should be contactable, the
marina we were leaving from and giving him Alex and Sali’s full
names. I didn’t know what other information I could give him, to be
honest, but it still didn’t quell his unease at letting me onboard.
Impatiently, I cut him off again, shoving my phone in my
pocket.

Sali showed me the cabin while
the men did boring man-things on deck in preparation for leaving.
The cabin was a compact but clever space. A private double-bedded
‘room’ with a concertina wall took up one end of the cabin. Next to
it was a tiny bathroom with shower, vanity and toilet. The living
space consisted of a small, sensible galley and dining area. Twin
beds were tucked into the other end of the cabin with only a
curtain to separate them from the galley.

“I hope it’s all right for you
to sleep in this area with Meili,” she asked, her eyes begging me
for clues about our relationship.

“Sure, no problem,” I replied,
not volunteering anything, neatly stowing Meili’s and my things in
the overhead locker.
Let Meili tell them about our unusual
arrangement
, I thought. She let it go, too well mannered to
push me for more information.

I helped her stow a few
groceries in the tiny pantry and fridge.

“I’m really counting on the men
catching some fish for dinner tonight. Otherwise it’s going to be
cheese and crackers, I’m afraid,” she laughed.

“Let’s keep our fingers crossed
then,” I replied, my mouth watering already at the thought of such
fresh fish for dinner. “I might have a try at fishing too. Maybe
I’ll be the one to catch dinner! That would show the men
something.”

“Girl power to you, Tilly!” she
giggled, then straightened up, resting her hand on her ballooning
tummy. “Oh goodness, Junior’s restless today.”

“Do you know if you’re having a
boy or girl yet?” I asked politely.

“Boy,” she said proudly. “Alex
is so excited. He has three daughters already with his first wife
and was really hoping for a son this time.”

We climbed back up on deck where
Alex made us all slip into life jackets, his caution surprising me
because we hadn’t even started moving yet.

Noting my questioning face, he
shrugged and said, “I’m a lawyer, after all,” which made me
laugh.

Meili was playing deck boy for
the time being, so Sali and I sat on the small deck at the back,
near the wheel house, and chatted inconsequentially until Alex
finally pulled the boat away from the jetty and nosed it out of the
marina into the harbour.

It was a glorious day to be on
the water, and so agreed a fair percentage of the city’s
population, because the harbour was teeming with craft – motor
boats, sailing boats, rowboats, even a kayak or two; from luxurious
cruisers down to a humble inflatable dingy. A water police boat
glided through the craft, reminding everyone to behave themselves,
much like a couple of street cops on their beat.

We headed out towards the ocean
and I enjoyed relaxing on board, watching the scenery drift by. As
we made our way out of the harbour, I let the other three catch up
on gossip about mutual friends while I rang Heller again. He never
minded me ringing him, even if he was busy, knowing I never took up
much of his time. Especially lately.

“You won’t believe what you’re
paying me to do right now,” I gloated, and proceeded to tell him in
fulsome detail. He listened with amused patience.

“I’m glad that you’re talking to
me, Matilda. You keep cutting me short lately.” I remained guiltily
silent, not sure what to say in response. After a few beats, he
gave up waiting for me to answer and changed the subject. “Are you
wearing a life jacket?”

“Yes, mum.”

“Don’t be cheeky. Promise me
you’ll wear it even when you sleep.”

I groaned. “No! That would be
too uncomfortable! And they’ll all laugh at me.”

“I insist. Please, my sweet. Do
this for me.”

I sighed ungraciously. “Okay,” I
agreed, pissed off by his demand.

“Do you mean that?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?
Geez!
” I huffed and cut him off again.

“Problem?” asked Meili, noticing
my thunderous face.

“Just Heller being difficult as
usual.”

“Who’s Heller?” asked Sali.

“My annoying, dictatorial,
over-protective boss. He wants me to wear my life jacket even while
I’m sleeping.”

“That’s good advice, Tilly,”
chimed in Alex. “I wish I could get my lovely wife to do the same.
She’s not a good swimmer.” They exchanged the kind of glance that
told me that they’d been over this ground a million times
before.

“Alex darling, I’ve told you
that I can’t sleep with it on, especially now my belly’s so much
bigger. And I need my sleep more than I need my life jacket.”

His face eloquently expressed
his silent despair at her logic.

“What if I wear mine as well
while I sleep, Tilly? Will that make you feel better?” asked Meili.
And his kind smile melted my irritation.

“Yes, it would. Then I won’t
feel like such a dork,” I smiled back. “Thank you, Meili.” I said
to the others, “He’s such a nice man, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” they agreed in
unison.

Sali, deceptively casual, asked,
“Have you known each other for long?”

I kept my mouth shut. I’d let
Meili deal with this one.

“For a while,” he answered
vaguely.

She persisted. “How did you
meet?”

“My boss introduced us,” I said,
which was the honest truth. Meili’s lips twitched.

“And what do you do for a
living, Tilly?” she asked.

“I’m a security officer. My boss
runs his own security and surveillance firm. You might have seen us
around? We have a black uniform with a gold H on the pocket for
Heller’s
. And everyone who works there, except for me, is a
walking man-mountain.”

Alex spoke up. “Yes, I’ve seen
some of your colleagues escorting people to court on occasion. They
were very big blokes. Security officer, hmm? Interesting.” And it
was his and Meili’s turn to exchange meaningful glances.

I think he’d sussed out the
situation between us, knowing Meili so well. But he didn’t have any
time to cross-examine Meili or me further, needing to concentrate
on negotiating the boat through the bar of the heads, a tricky and
sometimes treacherous stretch of water. Sali was interested in my
work though, so I entertained her with censored stories of my
assignments chaperoning rich foreign women around the city, while
Alex successfully took us through the bar.

We were finally floating in the
Pacific Ocean. I abandoned conversation and ran from port to
starboard and back again, revelling in the excitement of being on
an ocean-dwelling boat. The others watched me with amused
tolerance, jaded from doing the trip so many times before. But I’d
never seen the city from this view and everything was so
interesting to me. Alex revved up the motor to full-bore and we
sped off until the coastline became smaller and smaller and
eventually disappeared from the horizon altogether. He slowed the
engine and we bobbed in the ocean, surrounded by nothing but
water.

Alex found a spot that suited
him and weighed anchor.

“I like to be out of sight of
the coast but close enough to return to the city in decent time if
there are any emergencies. Especially now that Sali’s pregnant. We
never go out much further than this,” he told me. I admired his
cautious spirit.

A number of craft had followed
us out on the ocean, but most of them headed out further than us
and were soon dots on the horizon. One boat anchored about two
hundred metres near us though, its two occupants setting up on deck
with a beer cooler, a fishing rod and some binoculars for a tad of
bird spotting, I supposed. They had them out already, looking
around. I hoped they weren’t spying on us.