Silver Bay (22 page)

Not that that stopped me.

The second time was about six months later. Suzanne and I had split up for a while, and she was staying with her sister in Newcastle. Liza had got even more drunk and I’d had to hold back her hair while she was sick before she was together enough to come back in the truck. Didn’t stop her finishing a bottle of Mr Gaines’s finest shiraz at mine. She was a strange one, though – stone-cold sober every night of the week, but now and then it was as if she’d decided to knock herself out cold. That night I woke up in the small hours to find her weeping in bed beside me. She had her back to me, her shoulders were shaking and her hands over her face.

‘Did I hurt you?’ I was half groggy with sleep. You don’t like to find a girl weeping after you’ve given her one, you know what I mean? ‘Liza? What’s the matter, love?’

Then, as I touched her shoulder, I realised she was asleep. It freaked me out a little, so I called to her, then shook her.

‘What?’ she said. And then, as she looked round the room, ‘Oh, God, where am I?’

‘You were crying,’ I said, ‘in your sleep. I thought . . . I thought it was me.’

She was already out of bed, reaching for her jeans. Honest, if I hadn’t been so drunk myself it would have been insulting. ‘Hey, hey, hold your horses. You don’t have to go anywhere. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ I saw the white flash of her brassière as she hooked it over her arms.

‘It’s nothing to do with you. Greg, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.’

She was like a man. She was like me when I used to go out on the lash, before I met Suzanne, and wake up with someone I’d have gnawed my arm off to get away from.

Ten minutes after she’d left I realised she didn’t have her car. But by the time I got downstairs she was long gone. I reckoned she must have run half-way down the coast road to get home. She would do that, like she had no fear. (‘Why should she?’ said Kathleen, cryptically, when I asked. ‘The worst has already happened.’)

The next day, when I sat down beside her on the bench, she behaved like nothing had gone on.

Four more times she had done this to me. Not once had we been together when she was sober. If I was less of a looker I reckon I’d have been a bit worried.

I guess I should have got pissed off, but you couldn’t with Liza. There was something about her. She was not like anyone else I knew.

When she finally told me about the bub, she was sober. And she told me not to say a word. She wouldn’t answer questions. Didn’t even tell me how the little one died. She just told me because I’d got mad and asked her point-blank why the hell she had to get so drunk to go to bed with me.

‘I don’t get drunk to go to bed with you,’ she said. ‘I get drunk to forget. Going to bed with you is a by-product of that.’ As straight as you like, as if none of it would hurt my feelings. ‘And don’t go asking Hannah about it.’ She looked like she regretted telling me already, which was a bit much. ‘I don’t want you stirring things up. She doesn’t need reminding.’

‘Jeez, you’ve got a poor opinion of me,’ I said.

‘No, I’m just careful.’ She closed her hands into two tight fists. ‘These days I’m just careful.’

Del was happy to host the meeting – he knew he’d get a few extra all-day brekkies out of it – but he’d told me straight beforehand that he didn’t oppose the development. Sited where he was, within a few feet of it, he said, wiping his hands on his apron, he stood to make a killing. Like the kind of clientele they were talking about would stop by an old greasebucket like MacIver’s for lunch. I knew I wasn’t going to sway the old bugger, but I guessed correctly that guilt might make him good for a bacon roll and, as the time approached, I sat outside and ate it, washed down with a good strong coffee.

I had put the word round, and a few local hotel owners, fishermen, the whalechasers, people who were likely to be affected by it all, were coming. We sat and stood outside MacIver’s, waiting for people to straggle in. A few clutched copies of the newspaper. Some murmured to each other, while a few chatted normally, as if the town weren’t about to be changed completely.

I didn’t talk to Liza when she got there, and she didn’t seem in a hurry to talk to me. But I waved at Hannah, who came over and sat next to me. ‘Your boat’s still in the lock-up,’ I said quietly, because I wanted to see her smile.

‘Will all the dolphins move away?’ she said.

Kathleen had arrived, and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sure they’ve seen worse than this,’ she said. ‘In the war we had warships in the bay, bombers going overhead, submarines . . . but we still had dolphins. Don’t you worry.’

‘They’re smart, aren’t they? They’ll know to keep out of everyone’s way.’

‘Smarter than most people round here,’ said Kathleen. I didn’t like the way she looked sideways at me when she said that.

Lance got up and began to speak. We’d agreed he’d be better at all that stuff – I was never one for public speaking and we all knew Liza would have died rather than put her face about. He said he appreciated that the development would have some economic benefits for the town, but the watersports school would run the risk of destroying the town’s one area for tourist growth: the whales and dolphins. ‘I appreciate a lot of you guys won’t care one way or the other, but this is the one thing that marks out Silver Bay from a lot of the other destinations, and most of you will know that when the tourists come out on our boats, they’ll often stop off in the cafés or shops on the way home. Or they’ll stay in your hotels and motels.’

There was a murmur of agreement.

‘This thing is foreign money,’ he said. ‘Yes, there will be a few jobs, but you can bet your life the profits won’t stick around in Silver Bay. Not even in New South Wales. Foreign investment means returns to foreigners. And, besides, we don’t even know the full nature of this development. If it has its own cafés and bars, well, hell, you guys will lose as much as you gain.’

‘It might boost the winter trade, but,’ came a voice from the back.

‘At what cost? If the whales and dolphins go, there isn’t going to be any winter trade,’ said Lance. ‘Be honest. How many people would come here in June, July, August if it wasn’t for Whale Jetty? Huh?’

There was silence.

Beside me Hannah was reading the newspaper. I swear that kid’s getting so grown up it’ll be two ticks before she’s driving. ‘Greg,’ she said, frowning.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’ I whispered. ‘You want me to get you something to eat?’

‘That’s Mike’s company.’ Her little finger was on a bit of the print. ‘Beaker Holdings. That’s the one that has his picture on their website.’

It took me a minute or two to work out what she was saying, and a little longer longer to work out what that meant. ‘Beaker Holdings,’ I read. ‘You sure, sweetheart?’

‘I remembered it because it was like a bird beak. Does that mean Mike’s bought Silver Bay?’

I could barely see straight for the rest of that meeting. I just about held it together while Lance organised a petition. I managed to raise my hand when they voted to call up the planning guy and register a complaint. And then, as everyone drifted away, I asked Kathleen if she knew whether Mike was at the hotel.

‘He’s in his room,’ she said. ‘I think his girlfriend’s gone shopping.’ She sniffed. ‘She likes shopping.’ She looked up at me. ‘Greg? You okay?’

‘Can you get Liza?’ I said, trying to keep the edge from my voice in front of the little one. ‘There’s something you need to know.’

It took eighteen months for me to get Liza McCullen into bed and nearly two years more for her to trust me enough to tell me about her daughter.

That was why I couldn’t believe it when, the day after the whale calf died, I drove up to the hotel to bring her keys, which she’d left at mine in her usual hurry to get home. It’s why I haven’t been back to the hotel since – because the image still burnt in my imagination, tormented me no matter how many beers I poured down my throat: her sitting in the car park of the Silver Bay Hotel, soon after she’d got out of my bed, bold as brass, held tight in the arms of that Englishman.

As it turned out, he was sitting in the kitchen – where only Kathleen’s family ever goes, like he had some kind of rights over the place. When we appeared in the doorway he looked up. He had been reading an old guide book and was wearing a smart shirt. Just the sight of him in that space made me want to smack him.

It took him a second or two to register. But Liza didn’t give him any more than that. She slammed the newspaper on to the kitchen table.

‘That how you do your research, is it?’

He looked at the headline and actually went white. I’ve never seen it happen before, but the colour ran out of him so fast that I almost found myself looking down in case a puddle of blood was leaking on to the floor.

‘Sit in our hotel for the best part of a month making friends, asking questions, chatting up my daughter, and all the while you’re planning to ruin us?’

He stared at the front page.

‘Of all people – of all people! Knowing what you knew, how could you, Mike? How could you do that?’

By God, I’d never seen her so mad. She was electric, fizzing. Her hair almost stood on end.

He stood up. ‘Liza, let me explain—’

‘Explain? Explain what? That you came here pretending to be on holiday and all the while you’ve been plotting and planning with the bloody council to destroy us?’

‘It’s not going to destroy you or the whales. I’ve been working on putting all these safeguards in place.’

She laughed then, a hollow, crazy sound. I have to admit she was a little scary at this point.

‘Safeguards, safeguards. How is a bloody watersports park bang in the middle of our waters any kind of safeguard? There’ll be speedboats whizzing around pulling skiers, jet-skis, you name it. Do you know what this is going to do to the whales?’

‘How is it worse than what you do? It’s just boat engines. They’ll know to steer clear of the migration path. There will be rules. Advisories.’

‘Rules? What the hell do you know? You think an eighteen-year-old boy with a jet-ski wants to talk about rules?’ She was shaking with rage. ‘You watched us try to save that baby whale, and now you can stand there and say your bloody watersports park won’t affect anything? Worse, you got my daughter to tell you what was most needed so you could suck up to the planning department and win them over.’

‘I thought it might be something good,’ he protested. ‘She said they were things they needed.’

‘They were things
you
needed to get the bloody planning department on your side. You’re sick, you know that? Sick.’

‘It’s not my decision,’ he said helplessly. ‘I’ve been doing my best to make this thing work for everybody.’

‘You’ve been doing your best to line your pockets,’ I said. I moved a step closer to him, and I saw him square, as if he were preparing himself for a blow.

Liza turned back, tearful now. She shook her head and said bitterly, ‘You know . . . everything you said you were is a lie.
Everything
.’

That was the first time he looked angry. ‘No,’ he said urgently, reaching out a hand. ‘Not everything. I wanted to talk to you. I still want to talk but—’

She brushed him off as if he was toxic. ‘You really think there’s
anything
you have to say that I’d want to hear?’

‘I’m sorry. I wanted to say something about the development,’ he continued, ‘but I had to get it worked out first. Once I realised what the whales meant to you guys, I wanted to find a way to keep everyone happy.’

‘Well, congratu-bloody-lations,’ she spat. ‘I hope you’re happy, because this thing’s going to destroy us, and it’ll destroy the whales. But, hey, as long as your investors get a good return, I’m glad you’re happy.’

I offered to hit him then.

‘Oh, don’t be such a bloody fool,’ she said, and with a dismissive wave that seemed to include both of us, she pushed past me and out of the kitchen.

A girl was standing in the hallway, blonde with expensive clothes and a diddy little handbag held close to her chest. She stood back to let Liza pass. ‘Is everything okay?’ she said. Another Pom. This must be the girlfriend, I thought. Too good for the likes of him.

‘I’ll have you, mate,’ I said to him, pointing my finger into his face. ‘Don’t think any of this is going to be forgotten.’

‘Oh, calm down, Greg,’ said Kathleen, wearily, and pushed me out of the kitchen. Like it was my bloody fault. Like any of it was my bloody fault.

‘Vanessa, perhaps you’d like to come in and sit down. I’ll make a pot of tea.’

Thirteen

Kathleen

Newcastle Observer,
11 April 1939

The largest grey nurse shark ever caught in New South Wales has been landed in a fishing community north of Port Stephens – by a 17-year-old girl.

Miss Kathleen Whittier Mostyn, daughter of Angus Mostyn, proprietor of the Silver Bay Hotel, hauled in the creature on Wednesday afternoon out in waters near Break Nose Island. She landed it unaided from a small sculling craft while her father had briefly returned to the hotel to fetch some provisions.

He said: ‘I was genuinely shocked when Kathleen showed me her catch. The first thing we did was bring it into shore and call up the appropriate authorities, as it was my guess that she had broken some kind of record.’

A fisheries spokesman confirmed it was the largest shark of its kind ever netted in the area. ‘This is a considerable achievement for a young lady,’ said Mr Saul Thompson. ‘The shark would have been difficult to land even by a proper game fisherman.’

The shark has already become a considerable attraction, with local game fishermen and sightseers travelling some distances to see the creature. Mr Mostyn plans to have it mounted and placed in the hotel as a record of his daughter’s estimable catch. ‘We just have to find a wall strong enough,’ he joked.

The hotel staff say bookings have trebled since news broke of Miss Mostyn’s rize, and the record is sure to add to the area’s growing reputation as a fine place for game-fishing.