The breeze was picking up again, throwing cold spray over her from the surface of the roiling ocean. Zoe shivered and pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her. She should have brought more warm clothes. Another gust of wind blew straight off the water, carrying the scent of the sea and rotting seaweed from the beach. White gulls coasted on the winds, looking for scraps of food. What was she going to do now? Zoe thought numbly. She needed to eat something. She needed to get Louise some long pants and some socks. She shook her head. She wasn’t talking about what she was going to do in the next few minutes and hours. The real question was: what was she going to do about Nadia? About Lachlan? About Louise?
Zoe stood up, went inside and refilled her glass of wine, then opened a bag of chips. She picked up her phone and took everything back outside. The seat was cold and damp. Out over the bay, grey rain clouds were gathering. She’d switched off her phone yesterday, when she arrived, and had kept it off. Now she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then held down the power button. She knew her parents would be worried; she should send her mother a text at least. Nadia would be frantic. Zoe tensed as she thought again about her sister, the way she’d been plotting behind her back to get Louise. Who did she think she was? For how long did she expect Zoe to bow down to her? The surrogacy was done, legal – how dare Nadia scheme to ruin everyone’s lives? She had no right.
The home screen of her phone lit up. It was blank – no messages. Zoe bit her lip, then gulped a couple of mouthfuls of her wine. She slammed the glass down, and it clanged on the frosted-glass table. She wished it had cracked, smashed, cut her. She held up the phone in case it wasn’t getting any reception, but four bars were displayed. Her parents weren’t even worried; the note was obviously enough for them. She didn’t want to be found, but she wanted them to try. She wanted Lachlan to be terrified, begging her to come back. She wanted her parents to be distraught, to demand to know what was going on, so she could tell them that Nadia wanted Louise, and for them to take her side and put her first. And she wanted to make Nadia feel as helpless as she did.
Zoe wiped her nose on the sleeve of her cardigan. Then her phone beeped twice – a message coming through. It beeped again. And again. And again. Zoe smiled in relief. They were looking for her, they did care. She looked down at the screen: she had voicemail, and text messages. From Nadia, Lachlan, her parents. She breathed out, feeling less alone.
She sipped her wine as she read and listened to them all. She deleted Nadia’s message immediately, but texted her mum to let her know that she and Louise were fine and that she’d be in touch. That would be enough to reassure them, for now.
Then she listened to Lachlan’s short message again. He was sorry. He needed to see them. As Zoe listened to it over and over, she tried to picture him. He was crying, or had been recently: his voice was thick and nasal, and his throat sounded raw, gruff. Then again, he could just be hungover. She felt some satisfaction at the thought of him feeling wretched, experiencing a little bit of what she had felt when he’d left her lying on the floor – was it only two days ago? They said that people needed to hit rock bottom before they would change; maybe this was what he needed to realise he had to do something. He needed to know what he might lose – no, what he had lost. She put the phone down on the table and switched it off again. Had he already lost them?
The tip of Zoe’s nose was icy cold now as the drizzle started to creep off the ocean towards her. She felt an itch on her ankle and swiped at the mosquito that had already flown away. She would go back inside, make herself some food, and have an early night. She couldn’t think clearly now; she would start again tomorrow.
* * *
Over the next few days, Zoe tried to convince herself that she and Louise were on holiday, but they spent most of the time huddled in front of the gas fire in their unit, while the wind battered the windows and rattled the walls, and rain streaked down the glass. Occasionally, when there was a break in the weather, they ventured out to walk along the deserted shore of the bay, stepping between the mounds of washed-up bluebottle jellyfish, watching crabs scurrying along the beach and burying themselves in the sand. Zoe smiled brightly as she pointed things out to Louise, but she couldn’t quell her agitation. Everything seemed more frightening now that she was on her own. She had isolated herself deliberately, but when darkness fell on the island, all her fears emerged from the shadows, and she knew that by cutting herself off from Nadia, she’d also cut off any information or support; the lack of control over what was happening back in Perth now seemed more treacherous than being there and facing Nadia.
Louise had been unsettled since they arrived, fussing every time Zoe tried to put her down, refusing to eat, waking in the night crying until Zoe took her into her own bed where they slept fitfully together under the musty blankets. As Zoe gazed into Louise’s tired eyes when they both lay awake, she saw the trust that Louise had put in her, and it made her want to give all this up, to go back to Perth and admit that she had failed. But, now she was here, she didn’t know how she could go back without looking like a fool.
* * *
Zoe woke up to the first bright day in almost a week. She opened the balcony door and looked out over Geordie Bay, smiling at the sight of the sun shining down on the ocean. The white sand was littered with seaweed and driftwood washed up during the last few days of storms.
Louise hadn’t woken last night, but had stayed in her cot all night. Zoe had slept better too, and knew that she had to start making some plans for the future – hers and Louise’s. Louise was babbling in her cot; Zoe went in to her room. ‘Good morning, darling!’ She picked her up and unzipped her sleeping bag. ‘Let’s get your breakfast, then we’ll go for a walk and get some fresh air.’
When they had eaten and dressed, Zoe scribbled a list of things she needed to buy from the general store. She’d called the visitor centre yesterday and booked the unit for another week, but knew that her hiding here, on Rottnest, couldn’t last. As each day passed she knew that it brought her a day closer to having to return home. Zoe shuddered at the thought of everything she’d have to face. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.
She had let her mobile phone battery go flat; every time she’d switched it on there were too many messages from her parents and Lachlan, and she couldn’t deal with them right now, not until she’d worked out what she was going to do. Because when she thought of home, of Nadia and Lachlan, Zoe was reminded that while in this moment, out here, she was in control, across the water she had only the weakest grasp on her life, a life that could be ripped away from her in an instant. This paradise was just a mirage, a trick she was playing on herself, a dream that would slip away as soon as the tides changed.
She sighed, then strapped the baby carrier to her chest and fastened Louise into it. She needed to keep active, not allow herself to think too much. They would walk the two kilometres to the main village at Thomson Bay. She would go to the store and organise a delivery of groceries, then take Louise to the playground and jetty, maybe even have lunch in the garden of the pub if the weather held.
As they walked, Zoe saw a quokka. She stopped and pointed it out to Louise, who squealed. They watched as it sat on its hind legs, then hopped across their path and disappeared behind some bins. Zoe looked up at the sky, smiling as the sun warmed her face and neck. Why couldn’t life stay like this?
She bought a banana muffin and a takeaway coffee from the bakery, and walked down to the playground. She unstrapped Louise and sat her on the grass, then tore off a piece of the muffin and gave it to her. They sat together, licking crumbs from their fingers, looking out at the harbour. A ferry was coming in, a speck on the water that slowly grew bigger.
Zoe pushed Louise on the swing, tickling her toes every time she neared, making her shriek with delight. These were the moments that Zoe wanted to remember, the moments when they were together, happy. She wanted to breathe Louise in, inhale her joy and her trust. Her eyes filled with tears. She slowed the swing, unfastened
the safety chain and held Louise to her, trying not to sob with the sudden terror of losing her. She squeezed her eyes shut, then crouched down and gathered up their things. She needed to keep busy. With the baby carrier fastened to her chest again, she set off for a walk before lunch. It was better to keep moving.
She trudged along the sandy paths, avoiding quokka droppings and swooping gulls, heading away from the beach towards the interior of the island. She passed the old settlement buildings, and soon she was walking on an expanse of patchy grass, still damp from the rains. She stopped in the shade of a melaleuca tree, the scent of tea-tree wafting around her, and rubbed at her bare arms. Perhaps she’d been a bit optimistic to wear just a t-shirt; it was cool out of the sun.
As she looked around, she realised she’d been here before. As children, she and Nadia had run around the clearing here, playing with some other kids they’d met. She remembered chasing after Nadia, her legs and chest burning; older and taller, Nadia always managed to dart away just before Zoe caught her. Then, as the sun went down, they had all lain on their backs on the grass, looking up at the sky, telling ghost stories. They were near the cemetery. The boys had told stories of the hundreds of Aboriginal prisoners who were beaten or starved to death in their damp prison cells, cells that were now four-star accommodation for tourists. Zoe had moved closer to Nadia as the boys described how the terrified men had been dragged in chains onto tiny boats, knowing they were doomed, and sent away from the mainland to the island that was home to the spirits of the dead. That night, back in their room at the beach villa, Nadia had shone a torch under her chin, casting eerie shadows, and told Zoe that if she listened carefully, she’d be able to hear the prisoners’ moans as they shivered in thin blankets, the very blankets they’d been buried in, facing east so they could see the sun rising over their homes. Zoe had had nightmares for months, seeing those desperate and ragged ghosts rising from the ground like the ocean mist, gazing back towards the fires lit by their women on the mainland, then sinking again into their cramped, cold graves until the next night.
Now she shuddered, rubbed her arms again and looked around. She laughed aloud, hoping to banish the fear creeping under her skin. Just then she heard a mournful call: may-aw, may-aw. She jumped, unsure what she’d heard, then turned and saw a shimmering peacock bobbing through the pine trees.
‘Let’s keep moving, Louise,’ she said brightly, scolding herself for being so jittery.
She hurried back along the path towards the settlement. Emerging into the carefree streets, she saw that the ferry was docked at the jetty. She watched the passengers – a few families, a group of backpackers – stumble off, swaying slightly when they put their feet on solid ground, as she had done just over a week ago.
Then she froze. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see his face clearly from this distance; she didn’t need to. It was Lachlan. Here, on Rottnest.
Zoe couldn’t move, torn between running towards him and hurrying away. She put her arms around Louise and held her tighter. Her heart was pounding. What was he doing here? What should she do? She moved into the shadow of a building so she could watch him. Maybe she was wrong; maybe it was just someone who looked like Lachlan. But as the man came closer, there was no mistaking him. He was unshaven, thinner than he’d been only last week, and his face looked ashen. He walked with his chin tucked into his chest, his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. His black t-shirt was creased and he had a sports bag slung over his shoulder. Zoe stared at him, at the man who looked so unlike the husband – strong, kind, capable – she knew. So much had passed between them. But she didn’t feel frightened of him, not any more. As she watched him trudge up the hill, she knew with an utter certainty that she couldn’t live without him. She hadn’t made a conscious decision, but her body had taken over; she looked down at her feet as they walked of their own volition towards the visitor centre, where she knew their paths would meet.
Within a minute, she and Lachlan were standing a metre apart, just a little too far to touch. She stared at him and he met her eyes.
‘Hi.’ His voice shook. ‘How are you?’
‘Good. You?’
He nodded, then looked down at Louise, who had fallen asleep. Her back was to him, and Zoe still had her arms tightly around the baby carrier.
‘How’s my girl?’
Zoe felt her eyes fill with tears again. ‘She’s good. She’s … perfect.’
Lachlan looked at the ground, but she could see his face reddening.
‘How did you find me?’
He glanced up, gave a half-smile. ‘Credit-card statements – the ferry, the store.’
‘Wouldn’t make a great criminal, would I?’ She smiled sadly.
‘You always were too honest, Zoe.’
‘What are you doing here?’
He sighed, then hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder. ‘I … I had to see you. You wouldn’t answer my calls. Your mum said you had been in touch but then your phone’s been off. I was worried.’
‘How are they?’
‘Your parents?’ He shrugged. ‘I went over, tried to talk to them, but Martin … well …’
Zoe felt a surge of warmth at the thought of her parents being protective. ‘What do you expect? They know what happened.’
Lachlan blinked a few times, then looked at his feet again. ‘Zoe, about that …’
She knew he wanted her to say that it was OK, that she understood, that she’d forgiven him, but none of that was true. She waited, said nothing.
‘Zoe, I … I’m sorry.’ His voice cracked. ‘I don’t know what happened, I’ve just been so …’
‘So what, Lachlan? What’s going on? Ever since Louise was born, you’ve —’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with her, it’s not that at all.’
‘That’s what you keep saying, it’s nothing to do with her, that you love her and me, and yet you’ve been absolutely horrible. You’ve been irritable and angry, and drinking all the time, and … violent. Something’s been going on!’
‘You’re right. We need to talk.’ He looked around. ‘Jesus, Zoe, this week has been horrible, just horrible, the worst week of my life. I miss you, and Louise. I … I need you …’
Zoe took a step towards him and held out her hands in exasperation. Louise jerked awake as the baby carrier moved. She let out a whimper; Zoe stroked Louise’s head as she spoke. ‘Lachlan, do you understand what you’ve done? Do you? You’ve played right into Nadia’s hands. Do you know what I saw when I went to her house? She has this whole secret box, photos I’ve never seen – with you in them, I might add. And she’s highlighted information about how to get the courts to cancel the parentage order! I heard her talking on the phone to Eddie, saying that she couldn’t let Louise grow up in our house, because of what you did, Lachlan! She wants Louise, and you’ve given her exactly what she needs to get her. You never believed me when I said she was having regrets, but I was right!’
‘I know. That’s why I’m here,’ he said grimly.
Zoe stared at him, her anger turning instantly into fear. She had expected him to tell her she was being ridiculous. ‘What?’ She thought about the photos of Nadia and Lachlan and felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Oh my God. Is that what this is about? Are you and Nadia … ?’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.
He shook his head. ‘No, don’t be stupid, God no …’
She looked around her. ‘I need to sit down.’
Lachlan stepped forward and put his hand gently on her arm. She looked into his eyes, silently begging him to fix everything, although she knew he couldn’t. ‘Come on.’ He gestured with his head to a bench outside the visitor centre. He led her over and they both sat down.
‘Lachlan. What do you know?’ She unstrapped Louise, who was now awake. When Louise saw Lachlan, she grinned and squealed, bobbing up and down in delight. Zoe hesitated, then held Louise out towards her father.
Lachlan took Louise, and held her close to him, kissing her fac
e over and over. Louise rested her head into Lachlan’s chest; he ran a finger under his eyes before he spoke. ‘There was a letter. Yesterday, from Nadia and Eddie’s lawyer. Addressed to us both. It said that “in light of recent developments”, they’re applying to the family court to discharge the parenting order. I called Nadia straight away, and Eddie answered. He said she wouldn’t talk to me. She’s made up her mind. But he told me that … well, she’s saying that she’s worried about Louise’s safety.’
No, no, no, Zoe thought. She realised that she had been clinging to a hope that she was mistaken about Nadia’s intentions, in spite of what she had heard and seen. But a lawyer’s letter? Court? Was this really happening? She held her trembling hand up to her mouth. ‘My God.’
‘I tried to call you, but your phone has been off. I had to come.’
‘She can’t …’ Zoe whispered.
‘She can, Zoe. I’ve already called our lawyer. He said Nadia has every right to try. It’s unusual, he hasn’t seen it before, but the law says that if there’s an exceptional reason —’
‘What, like domestic violence?’ Zoe spat the words at him. ‘That’s the reason. Because you have turned into a drunk, and you were comatose when you were meant to be looking after our daughter, who we have put every ounce of ourselves into – the stress, the money, the fear – everything we’ve gone through, and you just fuck it up!’
‘Zoe —’
‘No!’ she shouted. Louise squirmed in Lachlan’s lap. Zoe reached over and took her back, then stood up and pointed at Lachlan. ‘This is all your fault. You need to go, you need to get out of our house, or else I’ll lose her!’ Zoe’s heart was pounding, and she knew what she said was true. Even if she could forgive Lachlan, she could never be with him, because then Nadia would have what she needed to take Louise.
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