The Reef (46 page)

‘The main company is legit. These two slick characters are using their position with the resort and through Lloyd's dad I've found they have a close connection with a certain customs officer with a shady reputation. But what they're up to swanning around on
Kicking Back,
I'm not sure.'

Jennifer was trying to take all this in and one aspect worried her. ‘I can't help thinking about Blair. He's convinced they're going to cut him in and give him some job in one of these flash sports clubs. Branch would be the start of it.'

‘Jen. Not Reef Resorts, nor the slick boys, nor anyone else can do anything on Branch Island. It's
privately owned, the resort leases their land with strict guidelines attached.'

‘Nature rules, keep it eco friendly, I know,' said Jennifer. ‘So maybe the owners have changed their mind and have agreed to Fanzio and Holding's ideas.'

He studied her for a moment, a faintly amused expression in his eyes. ‘Never. Gideon would never agree to such a thing.'

‘Gideon?'

‘He owns Branch Island. He comes from a very wealthy old British family. He's spent his inheritance on building prototypes of the shark mobile. The island cost him peanuts all those years ago. And he's bequeathed it to the university. Nah, Fanzio and Holding with a few pals like Willsy and that Gordon kid are involved in something else. And I'm going to find out what.'

Jennifer was digesting this news and then a thought struck her. ‘Oh no. Poor Blair. I'd better let him know the club looks like a pipe dream. Or is he in on all this too?'

Storm at Sea

J
ENNIFER STOOD IN THE
doorway of what she called her tree house – the upper floor of the shambling cottage where she'd nested these past months at the near-deserted research station. She'd tidied, packed things in boxes and was now locking the flimsy door. She found it hard to believe when she next came back here she'd be carrying her baby. That they would be two separate entities.

She trudged down the stairs to where Doyley was waiting in the electric cart with her bag to take her over to the wharf to get the cat. She checked that the downstairs section was locked and for a moment she smelled the aroma of Tony's
favourite coffee and imagined she heard the music he loved to play. It was merely a thrown-together piecemeal dwelling, not cyclone proof or in any way attractive compared to the architectural niceties of the resort. Nestled in the trees with a sandy, leaf-scattered front ‘lawn', it was part of the village of the research station where no more than twenty-five people could stay at one time – though she'd never seen more than fifteen people in residence in the months she'd been here. The cluttered living quarters, labs, cottages, canteen, outdoor specimen tanks and equipment shed had felt more like a home than anything she'd known since life was safe and simple as a small girl on a faraway farm.

Rosie hugged her as she got on the boat. ‘Don't worry, we'll be watching those nests for you. And I'll see you and Bev next Sunday. I'll miss you though. Blair is away, Gideon's gone on his trip, Lloyd and Carmel are still in Venezuela. Just as well it's a quiet season.'

The catamaran slid away from the wharf, the new arrivals wandering down its length, hanging over the railing to marvel at the huge and graceful eagle rays, the fish and the clearness of the water. The resort, hidden in the trees, looked tranquil and a place removed from the workaday world. The sunlight glittered over the submerged necklace of coral, the tiny band of sand gleamed white, all surrounded by the dancing blues and greens of the reef waters.

As the cat turned into the channel off Coral
Point Jennifer saw a lone figure on the empty beach and knew it was Patch. Watching, watching, and waiting – for what? In the lapis lazuli of the outer reef she could make out a distant yacht and the unmistakable opulence of the big cruiser
Kicking Back
cutting a slash of white foam as it cleaved through the water heading towards Sooty Isle.

Branch Island disappeared from sight. Jennifer went inside to chat to Vera and have a cup of tea. For the time being she would have to turn her back on the island and these pristine waters, which were now so familiar to her. In Headland Bay Jennifer would have to be patient with her mother, and concentrate on looking after herself and preparing for the actual birth. Thank heavens she had the distraction – and the excuse – of her work. She hoped Tony would be true to his word of driving down to Headland regularly to review things with her. Besides, she was anxious to hear what else he had uncovered.

Christina's flat was cramped, with a working space for Jennifer in the living room, plus the baby paraphernalia she had stashed everywhere – she'd even set up a playpen. But Jennifer made admiring and grateful noises. Suddenly she was tired and felt vaguely depressed. She missed the island already.

Her mother was full of energy and plans for chunks of the day but periodically became reflective, melancholy and negative. These moods were
triggered by the sudden recall of an item missing from her life.

‘I used to have a picture of you with your grandfather on the farm before he died. It was in a little silver curlicue frame. Who do you suppose would take such a thing?'

Or,

‘Well, dear, I'm sorry I don't have any precious heirlooms to hand down to your baby. I had things put away, I'm positive. I sometimes wonder what happened to things at Vi and Don's. Those silly birds of his took up so much space.

‘Where is this child going to grow up and think of as home? I wonder, Jennifer. I know this place isn't much. Really, just a holiday place. I haven't had a proper home myself since my parents' nice little house in Sydney. Oh that farm! I was never a country woman, I have to say. We'll just have to make do and hope we win the lottery, won't we? Then we can buy something really nice.' And with that idea in her head Christina became an ardent purchaser of Art Union lottery tickets in the hope of winning a luxurious five-bedroom brick glamour home in the middle of nowhere surrounded by cane fields.

To Jennifer's immense relief Tony phoned and they met for lunch at the growing marina.

He hugged her. ‘You look a bit tired. These last weeks drag, I suppose.'

‘Now they do. Being with my mother in a cooped-up unit is a strain.'

‘I got us some lunch – a picnic. Let's go up the
hill to the park.' In the car he added, ‘I read that last chapter you sent, and love it. You really captured the character of Gideon and Isobel, their passion for that world beneath the sea.'

‘Watching the video footage from their dive helped a lot.'

‘Where's your writing talent come from?'

‘No idea. I like to think my father taught me to be an observer. Particularly of nature.'

‘Your mother got any artistic talents?'

‘If she has she never explored them. She always puts herself down. If you admire anyone's ability at something she'll say, “Well, of course I never had an opportunity to do something like that.”'

‘Oh dear.'

‘She wrote me a beautiful letter once. She was away, I don't know why now, and I was with Vi and Don, and she sent me this really descriptive and interesting letter. I was so thrilled I read it over and over.' Jennifer was shocked at how painful the memory was still.

‘And?' he asked gently.

‘She rang up and asked if I got the letter and I said, “Oh yes.” And then she said, “Did you show it to Vi and Don?” And I said, “No.” Then she got quite cross and said, “But I went to a lot of trouble over that letter. I expected you to show them.”'

‘Oh shit, you poor kid.'

‘Yeah. I was so thrilled she'd written me such a grown-up, special letter, and then I realised she'd written it to show off to them. Ah well.'

They were silent for a moment, Tony wished
he could find the words to say how much her story had touched him. So different from his own down-to-earth and affectionate mother.

Jennifer changed the subject. ‘So what else have you found out?'

‘The slick boys are heading to London. Willsy is on Sooty palling around with Gordon, who has been given the use of
Kicking Back.
Needless to say, they have a bevy of women in tow. If I were Rosie I'd be interviewing new assistant managers.'

‘Blair and Gordon moving on, are they? Or up?'

‘Don't know what's in store for Blair. He does seem to have legitimate ambitions in the hotel industry. Gordon is a playboy. Beats me why he's bothering to work at Branch.'

‘His daddy is some bigwig in Reef Resorts, isn't he?'

‘Chairman, no less. Though Sir Giles Blake doesn't soil his hands in the actual business. Too busy with his home county pursuits. According to my journo mate in the news bureau over there he has some huge country estate – lakes, woods, private zoo, fabulous art collection.'

‘The usual.'

‘If you're landed gentry, I guess,' laughed Tony.

‘Maybe Gordon is being toughened up out in the colony, or picking up the resort business before going back to be put in charge of the poor old boys on the board,' said Jennifer.

‘Quite possibly. Anyway, he's ripping up and down the coast in that monstrous cruiser. I've been
spending a bit of time with Lloyd's dad and he's given me some interesting leads,' said Tony with a slight frown.

‘Really? About ship building?'

‘No, that's not my forte. Heath has mates in the coastguard and customs. There's so much unpatrolled coastline, all kinds of stuff goes on. And I thought sailing in Asia was a worry.'

‘You really love sailing, don't you.'

‘Yeah, wanted to sail around the world before I ended up covering hot spots. Take pictures, write stories. I still might one day. In the meantime, I'm content to potter around Queensland.'

‘Sailing?'

‘I've got Lloyd's sloop in my care. In fact, I'm living on it. I'm moored at the marina so I have a base here. Beats a motel. Though Isobel offered me a room at the house she's rented.'

‘She's rented a house? Where?'

‘Up in Headland Heights, overlooking the bay. Sounds nice. She's got it for six months, apparently. Said she needs a shore base as well as the island. But I'm happy on the boat. She's due any day.'

Jennifer looked at him, thinking Tony was still a private person even though he was tanned and looked more relaxed than when she'd first met him. The pain had faded in his green eyes and he smiled easily and often. His demeanour had softened and he was warm and funny. Jennifer was grateful for his comfortable, easy companionship.

He glanced at her. ‘What are you thinking? That I'm a bit of a drifter?'

‘Now why do you say that? I was thinking you're a free spirit. And that I'm glad I have you as a friend.' She was thoughtful. ‘In fact, I've never had friends like I've made on the island. Mac, Gideon, Isobel, Rosie. You. I wonder if we'd have bonded so much in a normal setting.'

‘Maybe not. People have intense relationships under extreme conditions. Not that a luxury resort on an idyllic island is extreme. Well, maybe it is . . . too much unreality.'

‘I feel I've come down to earth, that's for sure,' sighed Jennifer.

Tony helped her from the car. ‘And you're doing very well. You've changed too. You were so insecure when I first met you. Remember our first meeting and you told me how scared you were, how you'd landed in your worst nightmare?'

‘Funny we told each other such intimate stuff when we were strangers on the shore, so to speak.' She tilted her head and studied him.

‘Maybe we thought we'd never see each other again.'

‘I'm glad that didn't happen.'

‘Me too.' Tony seemed about to say something, but picked up the lunch instead. ‘Come on, there's a seat over this way. I don't think you're the right shape to sit on the grass.'

‘It's getting up that's the problem,' said Jennifer.

Two hours flew by.

‘I'd better go. Have to pick Mum up from tennis.'

‘How does she manage when you're not
around?' asked Tony as they packed up their picnic.

‘Friends. Beverly thinks there's a fellow who's keen on her, but now I'm here she'd rather have me running her around.'

‘How come your mother hasn't ever remarried? She's attractive, energetic.'

Jennifer shrugged. ‘I wish she had. She dislikes men because of my father, I suppose. I wish she'd get a friend, at least. It makes me feel so guilty and responsible all the time. God, I hope I don't lay trips on my child.'

‘We can only do what we think right, with good intentions in our heart. Do you know
The Prophet
by Kahlil Gibran?' said Tony quietly. ‘There's a poem in there about children. It talks of you being the bow from which children are sent forth.
Your children are not your children but life's longing for itself. You may house their bodies but not their souls . . .
It's beautiful.'

Jennifer drew a long breath and leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘That's made me feel so much better. Some kind of release. Deep down I already know that while I'm going to love and protect this baby with all my heart, I'll one day have to let it go, with love. Because my mother has never let me go and it's a terrible burden. So, thank you.'

Tony put the basket in the back seat and took out a flat parcel. ‘I brought you a sort of present. Just for now.'

‘Oh, how sweet of you . . .' Jennifer unwrapped the package and found a framed photograph of
Branch Island looking towards Gideon's shore with the lagoon and the Shark Bar set between the pandanus trees along the beach. ‘Wow. This is perfect! Oh, thanks so much, Tony. I can hang it on the wall and lie in bed and imagine I'm back there.'

‘You really love that island, don't you?' He smiled.

‘I do. And I love the reef, the idea of it. That it's so beautiful and protective and home to such magical life, and it's wrapped around the little island stopping the big seas, the predators.'

‘We all need a reef between us and the wide open seas of life.' He laughed. ‘Use that in your book. Hey, would you like to go for a sail some time? Just a doddle out of the harbour. A break away from Mum and work?'

‘I'd love that! And I love the picture.'

Days later Jennifer was feeling more than ‘draggy'. Instinct told her she needed to rest, and she lay in her room, grateful that Christina had to work at the hospital. She had hung Tony's photo of Branch Island – ‘Doesn't look like much to me,' said Christina – on her wall so she could see it from her bed. If she closed her eyes she could see blue, feel warmth on her face, hear the birds. Jennifer missed the bird calls. They'd been so loud and active just before she left.