Another Throw of The Dice

by Mary Clare Morganti

  When Min arrived Yvonne was already in the pool with Monique who was splashing about vigorously. Any formal language was out of the question with the child to watch but Min resigned herself to one of those sessions which would be a series of unfinished fragments as Yvonne did life guard duty.

  ‘Bonjour Meen, ça va?’

  It turned out that Gerard was in New Caledonia for the week and Yvonne had closed the café for two hours - “la sieste” - she explained. Then she would go home and put Monique to bed and reopen. Without any preamble Yvonne launched into her feelings and Min listened to the torrent of French which was a useful listening exercise for her and a welcome release for Yvonne. It appeared that she was unhappy and wanted to go back to New Caledonia but Gerard wanted to sell their property there and buy some land on this island. With a glimmering of “mauvaise foi”, Min advised Yvonne to give herself time because the first six months were the hardest. She spoke with as much sincerity as she could muster because she sympathised with Yvonne’s homesickness and lack of francophone friends.

  She missed her family and the food at home while Gerard said he felt freedom in a different culture and as for the food, tant pis! Min remarked that his attitude was unusual for a Frenchman to which Yvonne replied that it was just his line of argument. He was as francocentric as the next one.

  ‘Does he go out in the evenings?’ Min’s disingenuous question arrived almost unbidden.

  ‘Quite often - on business - while he is talking to landowners.’

  ‘Do you get lonely?’

  ‘More nervous.’ Yvonne was hugging Monique and kissing the top of her damp little head. ‘But I am a grown-up he tells me - and of course – we have the child.’ She looked at the little face with such love that Min was moved.

  ‘I need a swim.’ Min was feeling hot and uncomfortable so she went to change into her swimming gear and all three got back into the pool. While she bounced Monique up and down in the water Yvonne launched into a new subject about local child-rearing customs.

  ‘I do not want to send my child to school here because she will be hit and I am extremely opposed to that.’

  ‘But it is a while before she has to attend school,’ Min said ineffectually, knowing that a pre-school education was a strong French tradition. She reminded her that Dinah was doing a pre-school course and would be looking for children to practise on perhaps.

  ‘I want to meet her soon. Can you contact her for me?’

  Min had barely agreed when Yvonne suddenly changed the subject.

  ‘Have you news of your Australian friend? He is a very nice man.’

  ‘I had one phone call - but he has a lot to see to and is busy.’

  ‘I thought you must be lovers.’

  ‘He has a wife in Australia,’ Min said cryptically.

  ‘Oh. Do you miss him?’ Min was blushing. How much of an impediment was the wife? she wondered, in confusion. The brown eyes sparkled for the first time and Min was jealous of the tawny skin which would never register a blush.

  ‘Yes I do.’ Min did a few strokes away from scrutiny while Yvonne pulled the baby along in the water. She was beginning to feel more like a white outcast in this country of brown and tawny sun-resistant flesh and Yvonne seemed to read her mind when she told her that she thought she was not a happy person. It was clearly her prerogative to tell Min that she was not “bien dans sa peau”.

  ‘Stuff you,’ thought Min. ‘Just because you have such gorgeous, unfreckled “peau” and you make me feel like a gawky hybrid among the beautifully adapted specimens all around us, it doesn’t give you a licence to analyse my personality.’ (There were few advantages in being an Anglo-Celt unless you were at the blond end of the spectrum. That was the ultimate prize which Min had never coveted until now.)

  This coda to their discussion had the effect of relieving Min of the full freight of guilt about Gerard but she told herself that it would be childish to be vindictive towards Yvonne. Aloud, she did resort to sarcasm and asked Yvonne what advice she could offer. Just a sympathetic glance it seemed.

  As they were leaving, Min met Semese who was transfixed by the apparition of Yvonne. He managed to ask if Min had heard from Michael but his gaze returned to the vision of the naiad in front of him. Min explained to Yvonne that Semese was one of Michael’s work colleagues.

  ‘You are docteur?’ she asked. He was surprised by the question and Min wondered if he thought that Michael had told others of his medical background. She tried to explain that Michael had given her a thermometer when the little girl was sick and it had made him seem like a doctor.

  ‘Yes. I work at the hospital only.’

  Yvonne left them to return to her duty at the café and Semese invited Min to join him for a drink. She felt dishevelled and out of countenance after Yvonne’s analysis of her self-confidence but it was necessary to overlook it and be her authentic self. This was the answer because it was impossible for her to be any other way.

  Semese wanted to know how well she knew Michael whom he still called Lucky and which seemed so unsuitable these days. She told him that they had a very similar background and had shared a few secrets.

  ‘He has some big problems which I really hope he can solve. At the hospital he was very much appreciated but I was the only person he confided in about his training. I presume you know he has a medical background.’

  ‘It was not long before he left that he told me that. He hopes to come back one day I think.’

  Semese didn’t comment further but asked Min what her plans were and she told him that she had decided to extend her contract for another year.

  ‘We must have another party one of these days.’

  They agreed to keep in touch if they had any news of Michael.

  Chapter 65

  The conversation with Yvonne had made Min miss Michael more than she had since he left and it was brought home to her that his company affirmed her in some mysterious way. Ruefully, she said to herself that it was nothing to do with sex as her French friend would no doubt have thought, but was linked to a level of communication that they shared. Perhaps “communion” was a better word if she stripped it of its religious connotation.

  Instead of going straight home she went to Polly and Jim’s place on the off-chance that one of them might be there. Polly came to the door, wrapping a lava lava around her torso and yawning.

  ‘I hope I haven’t interrupted your siesta,’ said Min, looking at her watch.

  ‘I know - I should be in the kitchen with a clean pinny, fixing a delicious meal. Fact is - I don’t feel very well.’

  Min was briefly sympathetic but was too keen to tell Polly what Yvonne had said.

  ‘You’re not going to take any notice of that, I hope. Get a grip girl.’ She laughed her wide laugh and went to the refrigerator to get a cool drink. As they sat down and Min looked rather sheepish, Polly announced that she and Jim were thinking of leaving. Where they would go was not decided but they were not going back to the States yet.

  ‘And I’ve just decided to stay on for another year!’

  Polly said that they were thinking of Hawai’i and it wasn’t so far away.

  ‘What about your language study? Won’t you miss that?’

  ‘I understand the native language in Hawai’i is similar and we don’t intend to live in Honolulu itself so there may be plenty of scope to keep going in one of the other islands. Who knows? It’s rather fun to sort of go with the flow.’

  Min heard that Jupeli had left for New Zealand where he was going to continue his schooling with the intention of returning one day to teach. Had he come to say goodbye?

  ‘Yeah - we met for a few minutes at the market a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t mention the miscarriage. What was the point I thought and Jim finally agreed, although he said he shouldn’t have got off the hook so easily.’

  Jim arrived home just as Min was leaving so she stayed a while to hear how he was feeling about the decision to leave. He too wanted to know
if there was any word from Michael.

  ‘I’m keen to go to Australia before we go to our next posting so I

  thought we could see Michael.’

  Polly told Jim about Min feeling insecure after hearing that she seemed unhappy and he remembered how she had been knocked off her perch by her brother-in-law.

  ‘You need a second skin.’

  ‘According to my French friend the problem lies under the skin.’ She explained the expression which as she said, was flung about by amateur psychologists and she was probably being pathetic.

  ‘I just don’t know why people think they can pass judgement so casually.’

  ‘I think it’s because you allow yourself to be vulnerable,’ Jim smiled kindly.

  ‘In that case, humans are just like pack animals ready to prey on anybody they sense as different. There’s not much survival value in imagination it seems to me.’

  ‘Maybe the imagination needs focus so we’re not paralysed by too many possibilities.’

  Polly was bored and wanted Min to go home but she was careful not to let her feelings show.

  ‘I think we should go out for something to eat - do you want to join us

  Min?’

  Jim looked at Polly, guessing her motives and was not surprised when

  Min said she had prep to do.

  ‘OK - so what’s the plan?’ he asked when Min had gone.

  ‘I get sick of these analyses. I must be a simple soul.’ She stared hard at Jim who said nothing to confirm or deny. She added, ‘Look - I’ve decided to get a tattoo. Just a little one on my wrist.’

  ‘What’s brought this on?’ Jim looked baffled. ‘Do you remember what you said to me when I mentioned it in the beginning? It’s a form of cultural theft - or something to that effect.’ He snorted.

  ‘I know. That’s a full male body tattoo. I’m talking about a small, discreet wristband or ankle one which would be less obvious back home.

  I still think the traditional tattoo is only for the members of this society. It has huge significance and outsiders don’t qualify.’

  Jim surprised himself at his reaction to Polly’s idea. It was true that he had thought that a full tattoo would be a challenge but he had changed his mind completely since gaining a deeper appreciation for what made the culture unique in the world. It was a far cry from a couple of entwined hearts on a seaman’s arm. Polly was thinking of a small memento of her miscarriage but it would be tactless and almost unfair, to mention that motive to Jim.

  ‘Funny old Min - she is such a tortured soul. No doubt she misses

  Michael although no one seems quite sure what their relationship was.’

  ‘Two tortured souls writhing on the same rack - no, that’s mean - they are both very intelligent and cerebral. Sometimes all that gets in the way of mindless sex.’ Jim looked at Polly and they both sniggered. ‘Do you feel like a bit of mindlessness?’ He made groper mouth movements and Polly went and sat on his knee putting her arm around his neck.

  ‘Problem here is that it’s too hot and sticky for serious foreplay unless you’re turned on by sound effects.’

  Polly gave him a smacking kiss and stood up. She headed for the shower where Jim joined her.

  ‘Three cheers for H2O,’ he shouted as they competed for the jet of coldish water and teased each other until a serious mood overtook them both.

  It was dark when Polly woke and she lay on her back with an overwhelming sense of well-being.

  She looked at Jim’s back and decided that she was lucky to have a partner who could articulate his feelings as well as come to the party like a good man. She hoped he would stick around and keep her entertained. Perhaps she could appreciate how Min felt. You knew when everything came together and shouldn’t settle for less.

  She got up to make a cup of coffee which she drank outside where the stars winked at her, complicit in her mood.

  ‘I’m feeling smug and egotistical and it feels great.’ She hissed at the heavens and shuddered with pleasure.

  Chapter 66

  The news of the sinking of the Greenpeace ship in Auckland had made headlines in the local papers and Eturasi had expressed outrage at the act of terrorism in what he referred to as a zone of peace. The Pacific ocean must live up to its name, he wrote. Privately he expressed concern at the incursions by big power players which were intended to create zones of influence, so any countries which were economically deprived would find it hard to resist the money which came with these zones. However the important thing was to keep the local people informed about what was going on so they would have the knowledge to resist underhand dealings such as accepting toxic waste for disposal. Education and information would keep the politicians honest and resistant to corruption, he hoped.

  The killing of the photographer on board the Rainbow Warrior was a new twist and the New Zealand government looked to its international allies for support only to find that they were silent for reasons best known to themselves. The Pacific island countries rallied in support, but the French “colonies” were predictably absent from that consensus.

  Robert found himself retreating into a sort of melancholy which Dinah found difficult to live with. Their plans to go to Australia were put on hold while she worked on her assignments and waited to see how Robert would feel in a month or two. In the meantime she was getting to know Yvonne and observing little Monique to help her with her course. This had cheered Yvonne up considerably and her English was progressing well.

  Robert on the other hand was feeling less motivated in his job with the forestry and therefore he was less sure if he wanted to stay where he was. The idea of Australia had seemed attractive when Dinah’s family had outlined possibilities in Queensland but now he was feeling more inclined to go back to New Zealand and get involved in some form of activism such as the movement there against native forest logging. He had come to the conclusion that trees were a more valuable resource than gold because of their vital role in the world’s environmental health. Of course the more he thought about the big picture the more powerless he felt.

  One evening as they were preparing the meal Dinah asked him if he had ever thought of having children. He was surprised at first and then realised that Dinah was getting more interested in young pre-schoolers and so the thought of having her own child was inevitable.

  ‘I suppose the thought has flitted through my head if I’m honest but I haven’t let it take hold. I think it’s too much of a responsibility and I haven’t had much experience of family life. What’s brought this on anyway?’

  Dinah stopped chopping for a moment and looked straight ahead.

  ‘I haven’t given it much thought till now either but I must say little Monique has changed that. She’s such a little darling.’ She went on chopping and Robert pointed out that not all kids are darlings.

  ‘Oh Rob - you’re so negative. I should have expected that and kept my mouth shut. Shit - or merde - as Yvonne would say.’

  Over the meal and a glass of wine Robert apologised and told Dinah that he could probably be talked around. It was just that at that moment he was feeling that the world was not a fit place to bring kids into. It was a huge responsibility and in a way the idea freaked him out.

  ‘Imagine a little kid growing up into a world of x number of nuclear weapons poised over every head on the planet.’

  ‘I know,’ sighed Dinah, ‘but they do grow up and handle the world as they know it and not as some poisoned Eden.’ They were quiet while that proposition was considered and Dinah went on to tell Robert that her “niece” Tasha, was really her child and she had been impressed by the way she dealt with her environment.

  Robert stopped in his tracks and reached silently for his wine glass. Dinah went on to explain how she had got pregnant when she was sixteen and her sister was married with no kids so an adoption was arranged.

  ‘It’s been great all round, actually. Tasha knows the deal - Mum has a super granddaughter and Tessa has never been able
to produce kids of her own. And I really enjoyed having time with my “niece” when they were here.’

  ‘It looks like a good arrangement I admit but you still want to try again, seventeen or so years later?’

  Dinah shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not.’

  ‘As Mum would say, it’s a funny old world,’ said Robert, ‘and all that sounds a bit like a soap opera.’

  ‘We’re a practical and - might I say - cheerful bunch, touched by the sun and surf of Queensland.’

  Robert pursed his lips and said that he couldn’t guarantee much in the way of cheer - or what he’d prefer to call it - realism. He asked Dinah if anyone else knew about Tasha and she said that it didn’t seem relevant. He could keep it under his well-worn hat, she suggested.

  A day or two later when Robert went to the lagoon beach near the township he was surprised to meet Min sitting on the sand watching some young men handling an outrigger canoe. She told him that they were her students who had invited her to try her hand at sailing one.

  ‘It’s not as easy as it looks apparently.’

  The water was shallow and the boys were larking about paddling one at a time, a short distance without overturning. They beckoned Min to join them which she did while Robert sat on the sand pondering the spectacle. He asked himself if teaching was a more satisfying activity than doing what he was and if his maths and rudimentary chemistry would be welcome in the teaching body.

  When Min finally fell into the water and merriment resulted he clapped his hands and walked up to the shoreline. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt which he threw onto the sand and he waded into the water. He was handed the paddle and someone held the outrigger as he climbed in; next thing he was paddling furiously and the boys splashed through the water after him. When they finally caught up with him laughing helplessly, they clapped him on the back and held up his arms as they had probably seen done to victors on television.

  He rejoined Min and for the first time for a long while he felt relaxed and in tune with his surroundings. He told Min that they were a good bunch of students and she agreed and told him that she had decided to extend her contract for another year.

  ‘A year just flies and it’s hard to believe that we’re in my fourth semester. Another two seem nothing and it means that I’ll see one whole cohort enter and leave. Sort of tidy really.’