“Yes. I guess you could say that.”
“I wonder…” She looked at the man with her, and then back at Chris. “We’re just visiting, down from Huskisson for the day. As you can see,” she pointed at their kayaks, “we’re doing a bit of paddling. Can we pick your brains for a moment? Oh, I’m Georgie, by the way.” She offered a hand, which he shook.
“And I’m Scott,” said the man, following suit.
“Nice to meet you,” said Chris. “I’m Chris Moore. You want a few tips on where to paddle?”
“If you have the time,” said Scott. “We’re not holding you up?”
I’ve got nothing but time, thought Chris. “No, it’s fine.”
“We spent the morning paddling around the canals, but we’d like to explore St Georges Basin,” Georgie said. “Is your business retail, like selling canoes, or do you do guided tours? Because we were thinking that maybe a guide would be good.”
“I’ve taken people out,” Chris said cautiously. He hadn’t gone paddling with just one or two people for quite some time, and although these two seemed pleasant enough, he wasn’t really in the mood for the casual chit chat that went along with an individually tailored tour. “Usually I have larger groups, though. Corporate clients or schools.”
“You do? Great!” Georgie beamed, not appearing to notice his reluctance. “Can we hire you, then?”
“Well…uh…” There was no good reason for him to say ‘no’. And given the state of his bank balance, he would be foolish to refuse. Pushing aside the apathy that made him want to decline, Chris nodded. “I can take you, if you want.”
Georgie’s smile grew wider, and her dark eyes gleamed with pleasure. “That sounds great. When would be a good time?”
“Depends on what you had in mind,” he said. “And your experience. We can go for a couple of hours, half a day, or all day.”
“Scott’s had a fair bit of experience. Me, not so much,” she admitted. “But I can manage longer sessions, with a break here and there.” She turned to her partner. “Scott? What do you think?”
“It’s a big area, lots to see. Let’s make it a day,” he suggested. “Maybe work with the tide and get an early start?”
Oh well, thought Chris. A couple with some experience on the water wouldn’t be so bad; he wouldn’t have to keep an eye on them every second. On the other hand, since they had their own gear, he couldn’t factor in kayak hire, so there wouldn’t be a lot of profit. So he’d have to make up for that.
He decided to be upfront. “Since you have your own kayaks, I’ll have to charge more to make it worth my while.” He named a figure, which he thought was fair, considering. “My wife will provide snacks and lunch.”
Scott seemed happy enough with the fee. “Done!” he said, sealing the deal with a firm handshake and an easy grin.
Chris gave a nod down past the boat hire shed. “My place is right on the water, just follow the road around. You’ll see a sign out front. We might as well leave from there, you can leave your car in the yard.” He took out his phone and tapped on an app to check the tides. “Say seven-thirty?”
“Seven thirty it is.”
“Okay. Bring water and a wet bag, sun screen lotion, any extra snacks, a shady hat…but you probably already know that.”
“We will,” Georgie assured him. “Well, we’ll head on back to Huskisson, and see you tomorrow. Nice to meet you, Chris.”
They climbed into the LandCruiser and waved at him as they left.
Chris watched them go with mixed feelings. They seemed nice enough. Two people and a day’s work as a tour guide wasn’t going to save the business, but it would perk Allie up.
Besides, it was money, he reminded himself. Every dollar helped.
3
Confrontation
Half an hour away at Hyams Beach, in a newly renovated house that now had contemporary angles and dark glass as well as million-dollar views of Jervis Bay, Jesse Burns was in the middle of an argument with his youngest son.
For a boy who had grown up lacking for nothing, the kid was showing no appreciation of everything that had been lavished upon him. In fact, Jesse had to concede that Harrison, a boy with plenty of brains and a cunning mind that would have made him a perfect successor to the family business, was a lazy sod.
A lazy sod who had already caused trouble, and looked set to cause more. Jesse drummed his fingers on his desk as he stared at Harrison, and his frown deepened.
The boy huffed out an impatient breath. “I can see by your face that you’re going to say no.” His handsome face darkened, and he stalked over to the window to stare out at the ocean, indignation in every line of his body. Then he whirled around and glared. “I don’t need to go back to school to get ahead. You know that, Dad. You left school at sixteen, and look at you. You have more money than God.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” his father pointed out. “You do. And things are different these days.”
“How? How are they different? You figure out how to make money, you do it, and you make more money. A stupid degree isn’t going to change that.” Harrison’s dark eyes snapped with fury. “It doesn’t make any sense to go back and do Year 12 again at some new school and then spend years at university before I can even get started. If you give me a stake, I can be independent in no time.”
“Two hundred grand?” It was all Jesse could do not to laugh in his face. “Not going to happen.”
Harrison threw his hands up in the air. “Why? You can afford it! And I’ll pay the damn money back.” He flung himself into the chair in front of the desk. “You keep telling me to make something of myself, but when I try, you cut me off at the knees.”
“Harrison, you don’t have the maturity to start a business.”
“Look at Bill Gates. Dick Smith. Mark Zuckerberg. They all started young.” His mouth thinned. “You gave money to Nicholas to start his business.”
Jesse sighed. “Only after insisting your brother spend a substantial amount of time fine-tuning his business plan first. And he was a lot older than you when he started, with a degree in marketing in his pocket.” He took a moment to calm himself, and linked his fingers over the contracts he had been reading before Harrison burst in. “This is just some harebrained idea you dreamed up in the last week with Tyler Hamilton.”
That earned him another glare. “Harebrained? Thanks very much, Dad. This is the first thing I’ve really wanted to do, something I’ll work at, and what support do I get? None!”
Jesse had just about had enough. He’d already forked out far too much money to get Harrison out of his hair for a while after the kid got kicked out of White Sands College. He’d given in to his pleas to go backpacking for six months with his friend Tyler, and look where that had led.
Endless requests for more money, a SCUBA course and then an advanced SCUBA course, and now the two of them thought they could set up a business taking people diving in Jervis Bay. Just like that.
The kid didn’t have a clue.
Harrison seemed to take his silence for acceptance. “C’mon on, Dad. Let me show you what I can do.”
Jesse sighed. “Where’s your business plan? Projections for the first three months, six months, first year? How do you plan to promote this? Crew? Staff? First aid training? Insurance? Backup plan?”
“We’ll get to all that, all right? Once we know that you’re on board, we can get started.”
Jesse picked up a pen, twirled it around, and considered what he might say. Since his answer was going to be ‘no’, Harrison was going to go ballistic anyway. Might as well call a spade a spade.
“Starting a business requires more than money. More than planning, although for me, that’s an iron-clad requirement.” He held Harrison’s gaze. “It requires stamina and, as I’ve already mentioned, a certain level of maturity.” He was silent for a beat, and then said, “I might be rich now, but I got that way by being a good judge of character and by learning not to invest in a startup with little chan
ce of success. That’s why I’m still saying no. Drugs and business don’t mix, Harrison.”
He put the pen down and opened the folder in front of him, signaling that the conversation was over.
As he had expected, Harrison didn’t take it well.
“Drugs? What drugs?” His son’s voice rose. “You’re not still on about that business last year? For God’s sake, aren’t you ever going to let me live that down?”
“I would have,” his father said, “if it had been a one-off.”
“It was.”
“I wish that were true.”
“What are you talking about?” Harrison bounced to his feet with such force that his chair tipped over. “I don’t touch drugs anymore. I was a kid.” His face was red with fury.
“You still are a kid,” Jesse pointed out, striving to keep his voice level. “And I can nominate ten different occasions in the past month that you’ve bought drugs. Much as I hate to say this about my own son, you’re a liar and a leech, Harrison.” He stood up so they were at eye level. “And there’s no way I’m giving you any money.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harrison’s voice got louder, but his eyes skittered away from his father’s. “Someone’s been lying. Is it Leah? She’s always had it in for me.”
“No, it’s not your sister. Or your brother.” Jesse, sick with disappointment and anger, stared at him. “I hired a private investigator. I have photos, Harrison: times and dates, both here and in Sydney. You have a choice: shape up or ship out.” He pointed at the door to emphasize his point. “You’ve already done enough to ruin my reputation around here. No more, do you hear? No more.”
For a moment he thought his son was going to lunge forward and attack him, but he seemed to have just enough self-control to hold back.
“I was a kid,” Harrison spat. “One mistake — one! —and I’m kicked out of that shitty outdoor program, kicked out of school. The Principal caved in to the parents, you know he did.”
“Harrison, the school had a no-tolerance drug program. He had no choice.”
But Harrison was on a roll. “First them, now you. Well, I’ll do it without you. I’ll show the lot of you, and you’ll regret it.” He turned, almost fell over the chair he’d upended onto the floor, and kicked it out of the way before striding to the door. There, he turned, his eyes venomous. “You’ll be sorry. You’ll all be sorry.”
He slammed the door behind him, and Jesse stood there for a moment, adrenaline making his heart race, before he crossed the room to stare unseeingly at his million-dollar view.
It would be necessary to move swiftly before Harrison spiraled out of control.
4
Pieces of the Puzzle
“Yes, this is the place!” Georgie said in satisfaction as they drove through the gate of Moore Canoes and Kayaks the next morning. She pointed at a couple of canoes lying hull-up on the grassy slope leading down to the water, and let her gaze sweep up to the modest white weatherboard cottage next to a large shed and a shipping container. “This is definitely it. If we’d headed the other way yesterday instead of choosing the canals, we would have seen it from the water.”
“Odd that you didn’t pick up anything new from your reading last night,” Scott said. “After meeting him yesterday, I thought you might.”
“I was hoping so too, but that’s the way it goes.” Georgie had felt frustrated, but not surprised. By now, she was used to the way information came to her through her great-grandma Rosa’s crystal ball. Sometimes she got a flood of information, sometimes nothing. Sometimes she got clear images, sometimes words or just a ‘knowing’ that something was so. It was an annoyingly inexact science, but it was what it was.
Actually, not science at all, she thought fleetingly as she got out of the car. Reading a crystal ball was all about intuitive leaps and tapping into something, but she had never been able to figure out exactly what. She usually thought of it, somewhat ruefully, as the great unknown.
Up at the house, a screen door opened, and Chris called to them. “Be with you in a moment!”
“Take your time,” Scott called back, waving.
The two of them unstrapped their kayaks and paddles and lowered them to the ground. Georgie slapped on some sun cream and mosquito repellent and then passed it to Scott while she pulled on her rubber kayak shoes.
Chris reached them just as they finished. “All set?”
“Raring to go,” Scott said.
Georgie’s eyes went to the woman walking down towards them from the house, dressed in a long, floaty caftan and open sandals. Chris’s wife, she guessed; an assessment confirmed when she reached them.
“My wife Allie,” Chris said. “Allie, meet Scott and Georgie.”
She smiled at them. “You’ve got a lovely day for it. Chris was saying you’ve done a bit of kayaking before?”
Georgie indicated Scott. “He has. I’m less experienced, but I’m learning.”
Allie tipped her head on one side when she heard Georgie’s accent. “Are you visiting from America?”
“Georgie is,” Scott said. “I’m from Queensland, but I worked in the USA for a while. Now I’m showing Georgie some of Australia.”
“We’re staying at Huskisson,” Georgie explained. “We have a trailer there.”
“Caravan,” Scott said with a grin.
Georgie laughed. “I used to travel around the US in a gypsy caravan,” she said. “It sounded right to call it a caravan, given its heritage. But to me, everything else was a trailer. Big modern ones, cute little retro trailers.” She glanced at Scott, and saw from the quirk at the corner of his lips that he had picked up on her casually dropped reference to gypsies.
Diverted, Allie grinned at her. “A gypsy caravan? I’ve seen photos of them online. But I think they were all horse-drawn. You didn’t have a horse, I’m guessing.”
“No,” Georgie smiled back, pleased at Allie’s interest. “My great-grandma Rosa did, though. She used to travel around in a real gypsy caravan, pulled by a horse, and tell fortunes with her crystal ball. Mine was a modern-day version, with all mod cons.” She heaved a sigh, and sent a nostalgic look in Scott’s direction. “I lived in it for a year. I have to admit that I miss it.”
As she had hoped, Allie ignored her comment about the caravan and homed in on the most interesting fact, edging closer. “Your great-grandmother was a gypsy? With a crystal ball? Really?”
Scott came in right on cue. “She sure was, and Georgie inherited her ability. And her crystal ball.”
“You’re kidding.” Allie stared at Georgie, and then cast a quick look at her husband. “You can see the future?”
Chris frowned, and moved restively, giving his wife a warning look. “Allie’s always been into all that stuff. Tarot cards, psychics, runes, you name it.”
Gotcha, thought Georgie. In her experience, women usually seemed more interested than men in having fortunes told. Through Allie, they might be able to help Chris. She gave a casual laugh. “It’s not that easy,” she responded to Allie. “Sometimes I can see what’s going to happen, but often it’s in riddles.” Subtly, she poked Scott to help carry the conversation.
“She’s being modest,” he said, giving her ponytail an affectionate tug. “Georgie’s helped a lot of people, but she doesn’t like to advertise it. Too many charlatans around. So it’s mostly for fun now, hey, Georgie?”
“That’s right,” she agreed, giving Allie a sunny smile and keeping it light. “I’ll do a reading for you later, if you like. But if I see that you’re going to run off with a tall dark stranger, should I share that with Chris?”
Allie laughed, and Chris gave a strained smile. “Just as long as you see a leggy blonde in my future to compensate. Well, are we ready?” He bent to pick up the rope attached to the nose of his kayak and headed for the water’s edge.
“We’re looking forward to it,” Georgie said. She looked at the water, and then up at the perfect blue sky before turning her attenti
on to Allie again. “I’m so glad Chris was available today. We’re going to enjoy this. Nothing like having a local guide.”
A shadow crossed Allie’s face, and she glanced after her husband to make sure he was out of earshot before responding. “He’s not had a lot of clients lately, to tell the truth.” After a beat she said in a rush, “Did you mean what you said about a reading? Will you really do that?”
“Of course!” Georgie bent to pick up the nose of her own kayak. “Let’s line it up when we get back.”
“Would you like to stay for dinner, when you’re done for the day? It’d save you going back and cooking,” Allie said in a rush. Then she made a face and added, “Only you want to. No pressure. Sorry, I’m being pushy. I guess your crystal ball is back in your caravan anyway.”
It would have been, thought Georgie, if she hadn’t been hoping that they could talk Chris into a reading today. She hid a smile. “It’s in the car, actually. So we can do it today, if you want. But we don’t want to impose on you for dinner.”
“Nonsense. We have to eat anyway; I’ll just throw in a bit extra.” Allie looked excited — and hopeful.
For a moment, Georgie felt uneasy. If she got as little as she had the night before from the crystal ball, Allie would be disappointed.
No, she couldn’t think like that. She had been drawn to this little canoe business at Sussex Inlet for a reason. Her crystal ball wouldn’t let her down.
Down at the water’s edge, Scott and Chris were looking back, waiting for her.
“I’m coming!” she called and then looked back at Allie. “Thanks, dinner would be lovely. See you later!”
Allie’s eyes met hers. “Thank you.” She looked as though she wanted to say more, but contented herself with a small smile. “Later.” She waved, and walked back to the house.
Allie watched from the window as the three kayaks disappeared around the bend, heading for the Basin. For the first time in months, she felt hope. It had to mean something, a genuine gypsy fortune-teller turning up on her doorstep like this.
No Good Reason Page 2