"It gets better," Shelley continued. "There's a team of oceanographers doing a seabed survey off Heard Island. We got approval to set up a permanent weather station on the island last summer, but the crates are still in storage, because shipping schedules wouldn't allow for an expedition last season, what with that medevac and all."
Audra nodded. How could she forget? "Let's hope we don't have another one of them this year."
Shelley's eyes x-rayed her. "That's right, you had to help out with that one. Was it bad?"
Conscious of the other people around, Audra nodded again quickly, saying, "I'll tell you about it some time. Any chance we can go inside? I'd like to dump my stuff somewhere."
"Sure." Shelley led the way into the summer accommodation block. After they'd passed a number of rooms, she pointed at a door with Audra's name sticky-labelled to it. "This is you."
Audra squinted at the second label. "This one says Jean Pennant. Never heard of her. I don't think she was on the ship with me. So I'm not rooming with you any more?"
Shelley shook her head. "All the winter staff got assigned their own rooms, but this building's for summer researchers while they're not in the field. Jean's part of the Heard Island expedition, which is why I asked to have her bunk with you."
Between Shelley's manic grin and the way she rubbed her hands together, Audra knew she had a secret she was dying to tell. "Go on, spill it," Audra said.
"Well, that remote weather station's only gathering dust, so I pushed for a spot on that expedition for a meteorologist. They said they didn't need a meteorologist, but they will need a safety officer for island operations." Shelley's eyes danced.
"So you volunteered me?" Audra guessed.
"Actually, that's how I managed to persuade the guys in Head Office in Kingston that we needed an extra meteorologist. Specifically for that project."
Already, Audra wondered what she could film while she was in the field. "What's out there?" she asked.
"Lots of animals. Your roommate's a biologist."
Everyone loved penguins. Seals could be cute, too. Audra exhaled slowly. "So it'll be a busy summer. A South Pole expedition and one to Heard Island, too? I hope I brought enough spare batteries."
"For what?"
Audra explained about her video channel, which Shelley demanded to see. Audra unpacked her laptop and pulled up the latest video she'd posted – the view from the bridge during the storm. Unlike the first few videos, this one had over two hundred views. Maybe not viral, but still a definite improvement, she decided.
Before Shelley had finished watching it, the computer pinged with an incoming video call.
Audra debated whether she wanted to answer it, but in the end, she gave in and let Jay's call connect.
"Are you all right?" he demanded.
"Ye-es. I just arrived at Davis Station. Why wouldn't I be?" Audra replied.
"Your video! The ship in the storm!"
Audra burst out laughing. "You're watching my video channel?"
"Of course I am! It's been three days since you posted it, and you haven't been online at all. If I didn't reach you today, I was going to send a search party out to find you!"
Shelley laughed softly. "That's the bloke who isn't your boyfriend, right?"
Audra pressed her lips together. "That's right. And who never will be. Now you know I'm alive and not floating somewhere in the Southern Ocean, what do you want, Jay?"
Shelley left, closing the door behind her.
"I need your advice for a date."
Audra fought down her laughter. "A date. Jay, I think you've tried every romance trope in the book. Who have you set your heart on this time?" Before he could answer, she continued, "It's that new hotel manager, isn't it?"
"Maybe."
Audra chose her words carefully. "Jay, you really have to watch out when it comes to people you work with. I mean, I was just a maid, and I wasn't going to work there forever, but she's the hotel manager, and a lot harder to replace if you offend her enough to make her leave. Not to mention the trouble you'll be in if she accuses you of sexual harassment. And...you're not really all that subtle."
"I know. That's why I need your help."
Audra mentally added dating adviser to her list of roles at Davis Station, then took a deep breath. "All right. Tell me all about it."
FIFTEEN
When Jean landed at Wilkins Aerodrome, he expected to see more than just a few boxy buildings and shipping containers with a Hagglund parked outside. He helped unload his gear – enough supplies for the Heard Island expedition – and watched the ski plane take off again without seeing any signs of another human being at the base.
Sighing, he started to load the gear into the back of the Hagglund, figuring he'd best get it stowed before he went searching for people. If there were any. Wasn't Wilkins the name of the base in that book he'd read at McMurdo, a tattered paperback with half the cover missing about some sort of spy mission at an Antarctic base where most of the characters were trying to kill each other?
If some femme fatale walked out of one of the sea containers right now, he wouldn't look twice at her. Not even if she stripped off her clothes and rolled around in the snow.
Okay, maybe a glance. She'd have to be pretty crazy to go naked in this weather.
"You the American?"
Jean turned to face a man who might've been his twin, given they were both shrouded in expedition-issue red coats over black everything else. "I'm the Canadian who just flew in from McMurdo. I guess that makes you Australian?"
"Nah, I'm a kiwi, bro, from New Zealand. That's a different country, south-east of Australia, in case you don't know."
Jean laughed. "I've been there. Spent six months living in Christchurch on the South Island. I still miss the Whittaker's chocolate. Chocolate tastes way different in the States, or even in Canada." Not that he'd had any chocolate during his brief stay in Vancouver. Everything tasted sour there.
"So, you ready to go, bro, or d'you need to use the little girls' room first?"
The slightest mention of kids turned Jean's heart to ice in his chest. "I'm fine. Let's go."
Jean had driven Hagglunds before, so he was more than capable of driving this one, but today he climbed into the passenger seat and passed the time by staring out the window at the endless ice, broken only by the regularly spaced markers and flags guiding them to their destination.
By the time they reached Casey Station, Jean wished he'd taken the other man's offer to use the airport bathroom. As the Hagglund bumped to a halt, Jean opened his mouth to ask for directions.
Before Jean could get a word out, the grinning driver pointed and said, "Bathroom's through that door and on the right."
Jean climbed out of the cabin and bolted across the snow for the building in question. When he returned to their parking spot, feeling considerably relieved, he found his gear piled on top of an empty pallet, while the vehicle and its driver were already on their way back to the airstrip. With chagrin, he realised he didn't even know the man's name.
He resolved to have better manners for the rest of the expedition. There was no point moping over what might have been – he had to move on, burying himself in research and discovery and all the things that were so much bigger than petty people who wanted you home every night for dinner.
After spending two nights at Casey Station, swapping stories with the Aussies who lived there, and drinking far too much of their beer, Jean found himself summoned to the helipad with his gear.
"The Aurora Australis is waiting offshore, on the other side of the ice shelf," the pilot told him. "Normally, they'd head in closer, but there's a nasty storm on the radar and they want to clear Davis before it hits. Get in."
More storms. This continent threw more tantrums than a toddler. Jean didn't need telling twice. He appreciated the shelter of a station over being caught out in a storm. He helped the pilot – Eric – load the aircraft and the helicopter's thumping blades were soon carrying them
over the ice to the bright red icebreaker.
The first crewman he met introduced himself as Doug. "You're looking much better than you did back in March," Doug remarked as he shook Jean's hand.
Jean found himself at a loss. "I'm sorry, I don't remember meeting you."
Doug chortled. "I bet you don't. You were completely off your face on drugs the whole time. Doctor's orders, of course. You were a real mess." His gaze raked Jean's legs. "Doc wasn't sure you would walk again after that. Guess you proved her wrong, hey?"
Jean nodded. "I wouldn't have passed the medicals to come back here if I couldn't. I need to finish my research."
"At Heard Island, yeah?"
Jean stared. Did the whole world know about his penguin discovery? It took a moment for realisation to dawn. "You collected me from the research vessel so they could finish their survey. So that's how I got on a cargo plane. From passing out in the Apple to waking up on a plane to New Zealand, I can't remember a thing."
"Ah, you've got Audra to thank for that. If it weren't for her, we'd've had no one to give you any pain meds until you reached Casey. Then you'd have remembered us real good – and the ship where we tortured you. You'll be seeing her at Davis, too."
"Who?"
"Audra. Pretty girl. Fair hair. Good sea legs and a passion for storms. She'd be great on an icebreaker crew, but she's smarter than that. Some sort of scientist researcher type. Curious about everything, so she really listens." Doug's smile died. "If I had a daughter, I'd want one like her. Don't forget to thank her when you see her. Say hi from me, too."
Jean nodded, hoping that would satisfy the man. Thank a strange woman for drugging him and doing things to him he'd rather not remember? That would go down well. She probably wouldn't remember him, anyway.
At Doug's invitation, he joined the crew in the mess hall for a few beers. He'd had time to try a few of the Aussie varieties, seeing as they didn't have any Canadian beer or even Budweiser, and no one had heard of Molson. Jean already knew the one with all the Xs on the label wasn't his favourite, but the VB ones weren't bad and the Crown ones were the best he'd had so far. So much for the famous Fosters beer – he hadn't seen a single Aussie drink it.
After only a few days aboard, the ship slowed to a halt by the edge of a large patch of sea ice. There was nothing for miles, except more ice. "Why are we stopping?" Jean asked.
"This is your stop, mate," Doug said. "We've got a pilot ready to take you to Davis, along with your gear. There's another bad storm front coming in, and we're hoping to make it far enough north to miss it. That means this is as close as we get to Davis. Either you hop in the helicopter, or you can come with us for a round trip via Hobart."
Jean didn't even need to think before he answered, "Give me five minutes."
At four and a half, he stood by the helipad with one bag slung over his shoulder and the other on the deck by his feet. The pilot was nowhere to be seen, but two crewmen had already loaded the rest of Jean's supplies into the helicopter.
By the time Eric appeared, Jean could barely feel his face. He'd have to grow a beard if this kept up. It might be nearly summer down here, but no one had explained that to the weather.
Eric grinned as Jean climbed stiffly into the copilot's seat. "You'll need to get used to Aussie time while you're working with us, especially out here. Time's just a guideline at best."
Jean rubbed his aching leg. The bones might have healed, but they'd hurt until the day he died. Especially in the cold. "Yeah, I'm learning that," he said, trying not to grit his teeth. Lateness was one of his pet hates. Dairine had never been on time for anything, and it had driven him crazy. He wouldn't miss that about her, that's for sure.
Ice, ice and more ice unfolded below, until the blocky buildings of Davis Station came into view, sitting on the only patch of rock in a sea of white. Eric brought the helicopter down behind the buildings, beside what he said was a lake and the station's water supply.
Jean began to help Eric unload his gear, but Eric waved him away.
"They heard us arrive, and I radioed ahead to tell them I have their special Christmas supplies. Give it five minutes and I'll have more volunteers than I know what to do with, helping me unload. Go report to the station leader for your accommodation assignment before he knocks off for the day."
Armed with Eric's directions to the station leader's office, Jean headed inside, out of the cold. He found the office occupied by a woman – definitely not a he. Cautiously, Jean knocked on the open door. "Hey, I'm looking for the station leader?"
She gave a tired wave. "That's me, for my sins. Who'd have believed we could have a water shortage while we're surrounded by ice? Even with shorter showers, it only stretches so far. I'm Ali, by the way." She extended her hand across the desk.
Jean shook it. "Jean Pennant, climate change biologist from the University of Washington. Here to finish my PhD research out at Heard Island."
Ali stared. "Jean? Spelled J-E-A-N? We all thought you were a woman."
Jean made a show of patting down his chest, then his groin. "No, definitely not a woman." He grinned. "If it makes you feel better, I was told the station leader here was a man. I guess it's hard to tell when we're all dressed alike outside."
"True." Ali reached for a folder on her desk and cast her eyes down on the contents. "You're here for your accommodation assignment, yes? It looks like you're in luck. You're housed with the summer Met team in SAM, the Summer Accommodation Module." She pulled a page out of the back of the folder and marked it with two crosses. "You're here. Your sleeping quarters are here." She tapped the paper with her pen. "That's Living Quarters, where we do pretty much everything else except work and sleep."
"Sounds pretty simple," Jean said, craning his neck to look at the map.
"Here." Ali handed it to him. "I'll let you get settled in today. Tomorrow, one of the training officers will take you through all our station procedures, so you know what's what. They'll schedule you in for the next round of survival training, too, before you go on your expedition. Have fun."
That sounded like a dismissal to Jean, so he thanked her and headed out.
His boots crunched on the grey gravel road as he trudged up to his temporary home, a big, red barn of a place. As long as it was warm inside, he didn't care what it looked like. The sleeping quarters were easy to identify because they had people's names on the doors. Two to a room. He hoped his new roommate didn't snore, like the geologists he'd shared with on Heard Island last year. If he did, Jean would requisition some earplugs from Stores tomorrow.
Just like on the map, his room was right at the end of a corridor. Jean knocked cautiously, but he received no response from inside, so he cracked the door open. Light flooded through the window, revealing an empty room. Empty of people, at least, seeing as his roommate had already claimed the top bunk and half of the available storage space. A closed laptop sat on the desk, beside a box of tampons.
Jean's bag thumped to the floor. He knew a few marine biologists who used tampons in their waterproof camera housings to absorb moisture, but Ali had said he was rooming with a meteorologist, not a marine biologist or a photographer. An amateur photographer, maybe?
Jean checked the door. His name was definitely on it, below one that looked vaguely familiar: Audra Zujute. Where had he heard that before?
An image of Doug came to mind. That was right. Doug had talked about someone called Audra. It wasn't exactly a common name, so it was probably the same woman Doug said had nursed him aboard the icebreaker last year. Probably best to take the crewman's advice and thank her, then, in case she remembered him later and thought he was an ungrateful asshole. Maybe if he saw her, it might jog his memory of the days aboard the ship. Hey, it was worth a shot.
In the meantime, he decided to check his email, seeing as Ali had given him the station's wi-fi password. Perhaps Louis had sent through some new corrections on the chapters Jean had emailed him from McMurdo. Sure enough, he had – enough to keep Jean busy
for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
He lost track of time, reading comment after comment and making the required changes. The light coming through the window faded to darkness without Jean taking his eyes off his tablet.
It wasn't until the door handle rattled that Jean's thoughts strayed from anything that involved penguins. He leaped to his feet, smoothing down his shirt. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been badly injured and probably incoherent. He wanted to make a better impression this time.
As the door swung open, Jean marched forward, sticking his hand out. "Hi, I'm Jean-Pierre, your new roommate. You must be Audra. I believe I owe you for what you did on the Aurora Australis last year."
Her already large eyes widened as her face paled. "Shit," she said, before she turned on her heel and strode off.
SIXTEEN
Shelley found Audra hiding in the ladies' bathroom. "You weren't at dinner," Shelley said, "so I thought maybe you'd gone to bed early. But when I knocked on your door, you weren't the one who answered." Shelley settled on the bench opposite Audra. "So, what's the deal with Mr Muscles?"
Audra smothered a snort. Trust Shelley to have noticed. "He's Mr Pennant. Mr Jean-Pierre Pennant," Audra said, emphasising the French pronunciation. "The roommate you assigned me."
"No!"
"That's what he said." Right before he threatened her with payback for what had happened on the ship. Audra shuddered. If anything, those biceps of his looked bigger than ever, and he wasn't hampered by broken legs any more, if he'd passed his medical to work on a research team out here. "I can't share a room with him, Shelley."
"Why not? Afraid you'll see him undressing and be tempted to cheat on your rock star boyfriend?"
"Jay is not my boyfriend." Audra took a deep breath. "I just don't want to share a room with some strange man I don't know, who could break me in half without breaking a sweat."
Shelley gave her a funny look. "You've shared an expedition tent with strange men before. It never bothered you then."
Maid for the South Pole Page 6