Erin gave a disgusted snort.
“Oh come on, Erin, you used to enjoy it. No need to be virtuously revolted after the fact.”
“You are despicable.”
Tristan’s face hardened. “I rather think I’m the only person around here who’s cared enough about this place to make a hard go of it. You won’t find many allies around here. Erin – the girl who mysteriously lost her father at sea, and then ran away for years? I think it’s going to be you on the outside, and people talking about what really happened. Won’t be long before rumours spread around. Besides, you haven’t exactly done a stellar job for me, either. You’ve never brought in that big sponsor. If this whole show fell over, I know who I’d blame.”
Erin’s mouth parched.
“Now,” he said, straightening. “Get your bony arse out of my office. You’re fired.”
Outside, the atmosphere was heavy. Sweat slicked between Erin’s shoulders as she stalked back towards the village. The clouds were in the south this time, a storm gathering there, just to be different. She broke into a jog, reeling from what Tristan had said. She hadn’t been thinking about what Tristan meant to the island when she’d walked into his office. He might be a crook and worse, but he was the village’s last hope. If the races didn’t succeed, then the village would be finished, and he would pin the blame for it on Erin. Any reconnection Erin had glimpsed with Skye would be finished, too.
She didn’t think for a moment that Helmut’s word would stand up against Tristan’s, and if Alex didn’t remember anything, then Helmut’s word would be all there was. Helmut might be well known, but he was also an old man with failing eyesight who lived like a recluse and painted ghosts. Not exactly the most reliable witness. And what did that matter anyway, if the village was in ruins?
And then there was what Tristan might do if Skye had told him about her father. What Erin had done had been illegal. Her father had known it – that was the whole reason for the charade in the first place. Erin saw her only option to leave, and look for work in some distant port that wasn’t home and never would be. The idea drove the parched feeling into her heart like a stake.
Travers was still waiting by the outer fence.
“Call your friend and tell him I want to go back,” she told him.
“What about Tristan?”
“Not now, Travers.”
By the time they were passing Sandy’s bakery, Travers was onto his second attempt to contact Charlie.
“Can’t get through. First time, someone picked up but the line was dead. Now, it’s just not connecting.”
“It’s the mobile tower. Plays up,” Erin said. “Especially when you need it.”
At the stairs to Travers’ cabin, she kicked off her sandy shoes and paced into the kitchen, where she drank a full glass of water from the tap. Travers was trying the call again.
“Nothing,” he said a moment later.
“Can I take your boat, then?”
Travers narrowed his eyes. “And what am I supposed to do if I need to go out on the water?”
“You can have the tender from my yacht.”
Travers snorted. “Take your own bloody boat.”
“The motor on the yacht only does five knots if I’m lucky,” she said. “I won’t get back to the coast before dark at that rate.”
“We’re on an island with tons of boats. Go and find someone else to leech off.”
Erin had just reached for the glass again when she heard stomping footsteps on the cabin stairs. The next second, Skye burst into the cabin.
“Are you happy now?” she yelled across the room. Her face was flushed from furious running, her chest heaving. Her angry eyes were fixed on Erin.
“What’s—”
“He’s leaving,” she spat. “Pulling out, the whole deal. The resort is off. He’s tearing up contracts. He says he’ll move the workers onto other projects that will see a better return and he’s not coming back.”
At that moment, a helicopter thundered overhead, bound for the airstrip. That must be Tristan’s ride. Skye’s anger cracked, and tears spilled from her eyes. She swatted at her face.
“I wish I’d never asked you to come back,” she hurled at Erin. “This is all your fault.”
And then Skye was gone in a flurry of sundress.
Chapter 28
Travers and Erin both went after her, Erin’s heart squeezing in her temples. It was obvious to Erin that whatever she and Tristan had had was over, too. However wrong Skye had been, she hated seeing her sister in so much pain. She could only imagine what he must have said.
Around the bend in the cabin path, before the main beach, Travers stopped, looking out over the dunes. Erin saw the beach was empty, the storm clouds now bunching tighter on the southern horizon.
“She didn’t go that way,” he said, backing up, searching the ground.
“We were right behind her.”
Travers backed up ten metres, to a fork no one used anymore, that speared off through a narrow lane between two coconut palms, then a patch of deep sand before it joined the main path again.
They followed it, finding a fresh eruption of sand where Skye had pulled her feet out of the deep drift.
“Must be going home,” Erin muttered, jogging down the path. But the house was dark. Unless she was hiding in a closet, she’d gone somewhere else.
“You looking for Miss Jacobs?” said a small voice.
Erin turned from looking in Skye’s dining room window to see Tim’s face peering from a hibiscus bush. A moment later, Monster’s huge black muzzle popped up next to him.
“Did you see her?” Erin asked.
“Yep,” said Tim, extracting himself and dusting sticks and leaves off his knees. “She went that way, up the trail.” He pointed to where the inland track joined the back of the village.
Erin groaned. If Skye had decided to take off inland, it could take hours to track her down. But Travers reached into his pocket. He pressed a boat key into Erin’s hand.
“Just you be sure you bring her back in one piece,” he said. “Leave Skye to me. And Tim? You and Monster show me the way.”
Erin found Alex still in the ICU, with a nurse who was changing his drip.
“Good news. He’s moving down to the ordinary ward later on. No more constant monitoring,” she said, then paused. “Would you like some dry clothes?”
Erin realised that her shirt was still soaked in sea water, and she smelled like a ripe lobster pot. But Alex seemed so much brighter since just this morning. She changed into another set of borrowed scrubs, and sat with him, holding back what she’d learned from Helmut and Travers. She couldn’t even begin to know what to do with that, and the loss of the resort project had filled her stomach with sinkers.
“You’re quite the story,” the nurse said at the next round of checks.
Alex raised his eyebrows.
“I guess you haven’t been watching the TV,” Erin said.
“I have had a few other things on my schedule,” he said, with a small smile.
“Travers had a camera on the back of his boat. Someone got a hold of the footage of us coming to get you.”
The smile slipped, and Alex closed his eyes. “I still don’t remember,” he said. “Will you tell me what happened?”
Erin told him, as plainly and matter-of-factly as she could. When she was finished, he said nothing for a long time.
“I’m starting to think,” he said finally. “That boats aren’t particularly good for my health.”
Erin laughed. “Uh oh, what does that say about your future with a sailor?”
She was trying to lighten the mood, but a deep crease formed between Alex’s brows. He reached for her hand. “Thank god you were there,” he said. His look said he hoped there was a future, after all. Only Erin couldn’t share the hope.
When they moved him down to the ward in the early evening, the news carried the story about Tristan’s departure from the resort project, including an official
press release peppered with terms like “market conditions”, “critical mass of interest” and “unfavourable sponsorship outcomes”. All Erin could think of was the village’s excitement at the announcement just a few months ago, and the jubilation when the pilot races had brought in so many people. The town would be shell-shocked now. Tristan wouldn’t care; he would never have to set foot there again. With great sadness, Erin knew she would have to do the same.
But then someone tapped her shoulder just past eight in the evening, she turned to find Travers. Behind him was Skye, looking apprehensive in the ward doorway.
Skye seemed to have transformed since the confrontation earlier in the day. Her face was relaxed, but for a wrinkle high on her brow that told Erin she was nervous. She was wearing an old pair of cut-off shorts and a white singlet, as if she might be headed to the beach, except for the bandage on her right ankle and the pair of crutches under her arms.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“What happened to you?” Erin asked, as Skye took off clumsily down the hall, her good foot encased in a sandal, the bandaged one swinging.
“I’ll get to that.” Skye paused at the stairwell door and after a moment trying to awkwardly open it herself, let Erin pull the handle.
“We should take the lift,” Erin argued, but Skye shook her head and headed up, the crutches creaking on each step.
“Now where are you going?”
“Trust me,” Skye panted. “The lift doesn’t go up here.”
Three long minutes later, Skye pushed open a door and Erin saw they were on the roof, the great blanket of evening sky stretching overhead. With the light from the mainland, the stars were nothing like they were on Haven, but the air was cool and quiet.
“One of the nurses said they come up here to take a break on night shift sometimes, and I saw the vans downstairs,” Skye explained, hobbling across the roof to peer over the railing over the hospital’s entry. “I thought this might be better.”
“Unless they have a drone up there,” Erin said.
Skye actually laughed. “You’re not that interesting, Erin Jacobs.”
Erin smiled back, feeling a tiny tendril of connection with Skye, as though they were teenagers again and up to no good. Erin leaned on the railing and narrowed her eyes at the vans. “I reckon I could spit on them from here.”
“Yeah?” said Skye. “Who’re you aiming at?”
“That one, there,” she said, pointing out a man fiddling with a camera in the glow of an entryway light.
“Fifty bucks says you miss.”
Erin let the idea widen her smile, but her mind was on other things. “I’m sorry about Tristan, Skye. And about what you heard the other day. I never meant for you to find out like that.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Skye said quickly. “I can’t even begin to think how to forgive you and I’m still as angry as hell.” She blew out a breath. “But that’s not why I’m here. You were right about Tristan. And I feel like an idiot.”
“You don’t have to—”
“No, let me finish. I wanted the resort back up and running very badly. We all do. But I let it blind me. I don’t think he ever cared about me, Erin. Just what I could do for him, which I’m ashamed to say wasn’t very responsible.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know some politicians, and some lobbyists. Being on the island, we’ve had to fight for a lot of things over the years. For the school, for everyone. I’ve done my networking. So I made introductions, told Tristan who he needed to see to get around some of the … obstacles.” She gave Erin a sidelong glance. “You might think I’m just a boring schoolteacher, but that’s only for the children. I know people. And how to get things done.”
“Wow, Skye,” Erin said, realising how little she knew about Skye’s life in the past few years. “You should run for office.”
Skye gave her a considering look, then shrugged. “Maybe. But can you imagine if it came out I’d helped a development get around environmental protections? Travers was foul when he found out. I don’t know if he’s forgiven me yet. But I’m not proud of myself either. I never really wanted to do it, but Tristan made me believe it was the only way to make the resort happen. Then later I started to have doubts, and I wouldn’t push for the last barrier he needed moved. That’s really what happened. I kept thinking that we would be able to make it work legitimately, but he’d already started to lose interest. I should have seen that in the way he behaved after you came back, but I didn’t want to see that at first. In a way I’m glad that he’s pulling out. The resort might have brought a lot of people, but maybe it would have ruined the island. I don’t know how I’d have felt in five years if it had all gone ahead in those circumstances. Of course if Tristan and I had been—”
Erin snorted.
“Yes, look I know. I can’t believe I didn’t see what he was like. I’m sorry I turned on you for trying to warn me.”
“But now the island’s back to square one,” Erin said. “I’ve been trying to think of what we could do. The resort was a massive thing; I have no idea where to begin and Tristan’s right – no one else wanted to touch it. But the races were successful. Maybe we could run events like that ourselves. It wouldn’t be a resort, but there would be high points in the year with more business for everyone at least.”
Secretly, Erin couldn’t imagine how to cover all the publicity and marketing that Tristan’s people had done, but in the hope of the moment, it seemed a small thing.
“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” Skye admitted. “I want you to tell me about how those things were organised.”
Without prompt, both of them left the railing and pulled up two folding chairs that were tucked against a silver vent. Skye slipped her crutches to the floor.
“Well, there was a big group of people behind it,” Erin began, then outlined all the people she’d met and their roles. “But a huge number of other people were in Sydney, inside Tristan’s company or hired consultants – marketing and all that. I don’t know how they did their jobs. And they were the ones who brought in the cable coverage. To be honest, I haven’t the first clue on that. And I saw the budget sheets – they spent tens of thousands before any boat had even sent an entry form.”
They both fell silent, feeling the enormity of the task and how out of place they were to take it on.
“It wouldn’t be a novel event anymore, either,” Skye said. “This year it was something new. That won’t be the case next year.”
But Erin had seen the glimmer of hope. Fixing her mind on that bright spot, she ploughed on, sounding like Tony at one of their planning meetings. “No, that’s an advantage. We can point to past success. We might just have to find a hook each year, something new to add to the program, to keep a spark alive.”
“But what about the marketing stuff? I might know some politicians, but I don’t have the first clue about that.”
Erin leant back in her chair, picking out the stars overhead. “Actually, I have an idea about that.”
“What?”
“You’ll have to leave it with me.” If she told Skye, Skye would want to come, and that wouldn’t be right.
“I don’t like secrets,” Skye said coldly.
“Tell me what you did to your ankle, then.”
Skye’s grin turned sheepish. “Well, I went for a walk after the whole thing this morning.”
“More like a run, I would think.”
Skye scowled. “Fine, yes, an energetic walk. And I fell down a gully didn’t I? Then of course the storm came in, and I couldn’t get out again. I think I hurt it worse trying to climb out.”
“Bloody hell, Skye. That’s why Mum always wanted to know where we were going!”
“Travers found me.” That small smile again.
“Oh, now I see,” Erin said, teasing.
“No need to sound like that. I’m not barrelling into something else, not after Tristan.”
“But?”
&n
bsp; “But, I suppose he seems a good man,” Skye conceded, with more affection that Erin had ever heard her use for anything, except maybe the island itself. “He’s talking about sending his surveillance tapes to Drummond Enterprises – anonymously of course. I think he loves the island as much as any of us. I treated him rather badly and he’s not holding a grudge, so who knows. Besides, we had an interesting time after he found me.”
Erin’s eyebrows rose.
“Your mind is in the gutter, Erin Jacobs!” Skye exclaimed, slapping Erin on the arm.
Erin only grinned more. “Well, explain yourself then. Stop leaving room for innuendo.”
“Fine. To be honest, we were a bit lost. I’d made it a long way inland before Travers caught up, all the way into the foothills of the north. I don’t know if I’ve ever been that way before. I didn’t think it was possible after all these years exploring.”
“So?”
Skye paused, and whispered. “We found the waterhole, Erin.”
“What?”
“Bella’s waterhole.”
Erin felt as though a wire inside her was plucked and hummed, singing a note that was warm and wonderous. “Are you sure?” she asked, breathless.
Skye nodded, her eyes shining. And so Erin had to ask.
“Skye – did Mum tell you Bella’s real story?”
Skye lost her smile. “A year ago.”
“Mum told me yesterday,” Erin said.
“What did you think?”
“I was angry,” Erin admitted. “And I feel awful for her, like I can’t do anything about it. And yet … grateful. Because if she wasn’t still hanging out the island, then Alex wouldn’t be here either.”
She told Skye about seeing Bella on the point during Alex’s rescue, and Skye didn’t seem at all surprised.
“She’ll always be part of the island,” Skye said. “And Erin, the waterhole? It’s a really special place. There are Aboriginal paintings on the overhanging rocks. Whatever happens to the island, it shouldn’t be somewhere just anyone can go. We have to protect it. Talk to the right people about how to do that.”
On a Starlit Ocean Page 27