The Quilt (35 page)

He had walked home
along the beach, pausing occasionally to watch the search and rescue crews as they circled systematically in an effort to locate Sandy Cunningham. 

Paul glanced at his watch.  Hours had
elapsed; realistically they could no longer expect to find Sandy alive.  She wasn’t the only victim caught up in this tragedy.  What about her friend Joanne?  If the body was not located she would have to go on without the answers, without closure and he knew how that could hold a person paralysed in a moment of despair. 

Frustrated at his inability to help
, he walked to one of the spare rooms that served as a gym.  He punched angrily at a bag that was suspended from the roof by a sturdy chain.  He punched until his muscles ached and sweat dampened his skin. 

It was after midnight when the telephone rung.  Geoff sounded tired and his voice had little expression.

“I gather you were not asleep?”

“No
,” Paul admitted. 

He had settled in front of the television although could not recall what was on the screen.

“We have had to come in.  There is no sign of her.  We are going to refuel and go out again. I thought you would probably want to be on board and it would give some of the crew time to stand down.”

“
I’ll meet you at the boat in a few minutes.”

There was a brief silence
and Geoff seemed to consider whether to continue.

“Paul?  Be careful not to become
too involved.  You know this is not personal.”

The
morning’s ghostly glow illuminated an angry sky.   Although the swell had lessened and the wind had dropped, conditions were still unpleasant.  The crew had searched throughout the night and a sober tired silence had fallen over the boat.  Geoff looked up and shook his head.  There was no need for words.  It was time to call off the search for Sandy Cunningham.

Joanne slowly dragged herself up from the deep dreamless void.  It was the type of sleep that only came from exhaustion.   The fog cleared sufficiently for her to realize the ringing of the telephone was a reality not part of the blackness that still confused her consciousness.

“Hello
,” her voice was muffled and distant.

“Joanne?  It’s Simon.  I was just ringing to see how my favourite employee is
.”

“Simon?  Sorry
, I have just woken up.”

He laughed before continuing.

“You are the one that is normally up before the sun.  You must have needed the rest.  How are you feeling?”  Before she could reply he continued, “I am not sure if I should bring this up but it has been worrying me.  You said you needed to discuss something on the day of the accident?”

There was a silence as Joanne tried to focus.

“Oh no!  I can’t believe I have forgotten to contact Logan Neil.  What is the time?” Joanne looked at the wall clock. “Almost lunchtime.  I promise I will ring you back in a few minutes.”

She hung up before Simon
had an opportunity to object.

Logan took her call almost immediately.  He sounded slightly irritated.

“Joanne?  I had hoped I would hear back from you before now
.”

She winced
.

“I must apologize.  I was involved in an accident
.  Is the position we discussed still available?”

His tone softened.

“I hope you were not injured. We did wait for your decision until late yesterday.  Unfortunately, there was another candidate to consider, and as we had not heard otherwise we assumed you were not interested.  I am sorry Joanne, you were obviously our preference but the position is no longer available.”

Simon waited an hour for his call to be returned.  It took a lot to annoy him b
ut he was feeling worried and his worry was turning to irritation.  By the time he rang the bell on Joanne’s door he was flushed with anger and frustration.  

“You didn’t return my call
!”

“I’m sorry
, I really didn’t feel like talking.”

“Then you ring and say I really don’t feel like talking
.”

Joanne ignored his outburst and walked to the kitchen to plug in the jug.

“Simon, I am sorry, but there are some things I am having trouble processing at the moment.”

He took in her reddened eyes and set expression.

“You have been through a lot, I understand that.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them.

“I was offered a part time legal position.  I needed to discuss it with Sandy before you.    I rung to accept but I have missed the opportunity.”

Simon started to speak but Joanne held up her hand.

“I appreciate everything you have done for me.  But with the sudden change in my situation I am facing some decisions both personally and in my career.” She looked at him and he saw slight regret in her eyes. “I think it would be a good idea if you booked that holiday of yours. Once you are back it would also be a good idea if you advertised for my replacement.”

“Do you think now is the right time for you to be making that type of decision?
You have a lot of grieving to go through and can only attempt to rebuild one small step at a time.”

“The decision was always made for me.  It was just a matter of when. 
I need to get my life back in order.”

Simon regarded her carefully.  He took her hand and held it awkwardly.

“At the risk of intruding, I think it is more than your career you need to get in order.”

Joanne withdrew her hand abruptly.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Simon felt
nervous; he normally avoided conflict, especially conflict with women. 

“You trust
and rely on no one, except maybe me because I am gay and therefore I am safe.  Joanne, you are too young and beautiful to live in an emotional void because of a bad experience with one stupid worthless man.” As soon as he had said the words Simon regretted it.  He saw her face tighten.

“My personal
life is none of your business.” 

She was focused on Simon
, waiting for his response.

“I am sorry if I am treading on
sensitive ground Joanne.  Remember, I have had a similar experience and know what it is like to feel that you are at a crossroads. I wish someone had told me it doesn’t mean you have to return to the same path you were on before.” He moved his hands encompassing the room.   He continued speaking before the intimidation he felt caused him to falter.

“
You look furious and if you throw me out I will understand.  At least you are showing some emotion, the only other time I have seen anything raw from you recently is when you dismissed your confusion over the search and rescue man.”

It was at that stage Joanne exploded.  Simon shrunk back against hi
s chair.

“Why the hell do you keep bringing
Paul into our conversations?  He is a complete stranger.  A stranger I am unlikely to ever see again!”

“I keep bringing him up because he seems to be the on
ly thing that breaks through that exterior of yours! Go on, tell me honestly that you don’t feel attracted to him.”

Joanne was
shaking; she steadied her hands by locking the fingers together.  When she spoke it was in a level calculated voice.

“
I really do not feel that I should have to justify myself to you.  But if you must know, yes, I felt attracted to him on an irrational level I have not felt before.   Simon, no man gets to his age, looking like he does without either accumulating a wake of misery behind him or having a personality that is not in keeping with the exterior.”

“So
you met him before the accident and he scares you?”

Joanne shook her head slowly.

“Right now I scare myself.  Even if he was interested, even if he has no romantic attachments, I would never rely on someone else to make me whole.  I need to get my life together and make some good choices before I ask anyone else to be part of my journey.  At the moment I would latch on to a tree just because it was solid.”

Simon regarded her quietly
the anger had drained from his face.

“Not every man is like Stephen you know
.”

“But not every man
is unlike Stephen.  I might take the risk again one day.  But that will be when I am stronger, when the tragedy of Sandy isn’t this painful and when if I was to get it wrong it wouldn’t devastate me.”

Simon nodded in understanding.

“This was our first argument.”

“And if you ever bring up the subject of Paul again it won’t
be our last.”

“Have you checked the medical kit?”  It was mid-morning and Geoff was checking and restocking the boat.  He waited for a reply before impatiently repeating his question. Everyone involved was exhausted and the clean-up needed to be completed before they could go home and wash off the sadness of the search. 

Muttering under his breath he came out of the cabin.  Paul was standing on the wharf his broad back turned towards the boat.
Bradley was walking slowly towards them, he was in uniform and even from a distance his face looked grim and set.  The baritone of the policeman’s voice carried clearly over the gentle lapping of the water.

“T
he police launch found a body about an hour ago.  It was washed up on Motutapu Island.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Obviously there has been no formal identification yet.  But it is a young woman with very little hair and the hair she does have is red.
  She wasn’t wearing a life jacket. I am guessing it was your call out.”  

Bradley shook his head.

“It just doesn’t seem right, someone of that age.  At least it will be closure for the relatives.  They have been notified but I thought you should also be told after the effort you all put into the search.  I imagine it will be in the hands of media by this evening.” 

Bradley looked up pointedly and an unspoken understanding
passed between them. 

“
The late night news is a very unfortunate way for Miss Cunningham’s friend to find out her body has been located.” 

Bradley had overheard e
nough of Joanne’s disjointed, shock induced conversation to know the victim’s relatives were unlikely to contact her. Somehow that didn’t seem fair.  The poor woman had been through enough.  He hesitated, wrestling with the constraints imposed by his professional obligation. 

H
e cleared his throat.

“
I assume you will treat this information as confidential?”

Paul looked up and smiled
.

“Of course.  Thank you
.”

Paul walked to the office and began thumbing through the pages of the invoice book.  Geoff stood motionless watching him from the doorway.

Paul spoke without looking up.

“I don’t have any other option.  I know it is not correct procedure.  But would you do anything differently?  If you answer yes, you would be lying.” 

“I would do exactly the same.  But is it the right thing to do? I really don’t know.  Just remember to keep a professional distance for everyone’s sake.” 

Paul continued to turn over the pages.

“Here it is.  Lucky Lady, refill, Sergeant’s Channel owner Sandra Cunningham.” 

He copied the address before turning to Geoff.

“I don’t know if it is the right thing to do either.  But I do know until the body was found she would be hanging on to a remote glimmer of hope.  I also know losing that remote hope in front of an impersonal television screen is unnecessarily cruel.”

Geoff didn’t have a
chance to respond.

Paul stood undecided in front of the tiny white villa.  It was surprisingly unspectacular with its neat picket fence and the weeping cherry tree that sat in pride of place in the small front yard.  The only sign of life was the faint ringing that was emitted by the numerous wind chimes hanging around the grey painted veranda and the persistent yap of a small dog from behind the faded front door. 

Paul looked at his watc
h.  If he left now there was still enough time to catch the returning car ferry.    He really had no business being here.  Would she view his presence as a kind consideration or a blatant intrusion of her privacy?

Joanne looked up from the employment section of the newspaper.  Critter had positioned himself at the front door
and was scratching furiously on the frame between fits of excited yapping. 

“Will you please shut
up?” 

He hesitated for a second to regard Joanne before continuing to bark.