Maid for the South Pole

by Demelza Carlton

  Jean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "I never got her message. I should have been there for her. Instead, I was on some guano-encrusted rock, counting penguins." Jean knew the divorce had been his fault, but to lose their baby as well? That cut deep. "Mom, if I'd known..."

  "I thought so. That's what I told her, but Dairine wouldn't listen. She got her divorce and married some other man, who gave her twins. They're really cute – she posts pictures of them on her social media almost every day."

  Twins. Jean suppressed a snort. Dairine would just love having an instant family in one hit like that. He'd bet her husband was proud.

  "I hope she's happy," Jean said. It came out more bitterly than he'd intended.

  "I think she mostly is, but sometimes the baby blues hit her really bad and then she calls me. Her family aren't happy with her about the divorce, so she gets lonely sometimes." Mom coughed. "I really think you should give her a call."

  No. Not even if the Earth's poles flipped and he found himself at the North Pole instead of the south one. "Mom, I really don't think – "

  "Come on, it's Christmas. It would really cheer her up," Mom coaxed.

  "I'll think about it," Jean lied. Okay, it wasn't really a lie, because no matter how hard he tried to block the thought of Dairine out of his head, she'd still come creeping back to taunt him for not being a good enough husband. A good husband would have been by her side when their baby died. "Has it snowed yet?"

  "Not yet, but the weather forecast said it should overnight. I can't imagine Christmas in summertime. It just seems so wrong. Are you swimming and drinking plenty to stay cool?"

  Jean laughed. "Mom, I'm in Antarctica. On the actual southern continent, not far from the South Pole. The lake behind us is frozen solid, the beach has icebergs and there's still snow on the ground leftover from winter. The water's below freezing. Way too cold for swimming."

  "How's your research on those...what are they? Emperor penguins?" she asked.

  "King penguins," Dad corrected. "I told you, he's out there counting king penguins. That's why he has to go to so many islands. Emperor penguins live on the mainland, on the ice." He grinned. "Right, son?"

  "That's right. They look really similar, though, or at least the adults do. The juveniles are the easiest way to tell what you've got. Juvenile emperors are grey, but kings are brown. And both parents look after king penguin babies, but it's just the dads for emperors."

  Jean talked about his research and life in Antarctica, while his parents told him about their friends and family back in Canada, half a world away. Everyone else seemed to be living such ordinary lives, while he was here, having an adventure. Jean wouldn't trade places for the world.

  After nearly an hour of chatting, his parents ended the call, but not before his mother had given him Dairine's number and made him promise to call her.

  One day, maybe he would. One day far into the future, when he still didn't feel so raw about the divorce. Or the baby he'd never known about until now.

  Today it was Christmas, and he was allowed to celebrate. After all, last Christmas had very nearly been his last, and he was lucky to have survived until this one. That deserved a beer and some good cheer.

  Pulling on his coat, Jean headed out to the LQ for Christmas lunch with the whole of Davis.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  "I think I've eaten too much," Audra groaned, letting her fork clatter to her plate. "But it was so good!"

  "Best Christmas lunch I've had in a long time," Shelley agreed. "Of course, last year I had to cook, which was a disaster from the beginning."

  "What happened?" Audra asked.

  Shelley laughed. "I got into the kitchen. Some people are amazing cooks, and I take my hat off to them. Some of us...are better kept out of the kitchen. Right, Lesley?" she shouted at a woman in chef's whites.

  Lesley wagged a finger at Shelley. "You're not volunteering to be a kitchenhand again, are you? You'll have Carl chasing you out with a frying pan, if you so much as set foot inside my kitchen." Lesley nodded to Audra. "You're fine, though. You don't burn the broccoli, pour a week's worth of mashed potato down the sink or flood the place."

  Audra stared at Shelley. "You're seriously that bad in the kitchen? You sound like my sister, Sam. She burned one of those noodle cups once. Oh, and instant soup."

  Shelley lifted her nose into the air. "I'll have you know I'm a domestic goddess. The sort with minions and acolytes and things who do all the work. Why do you think I'm here while my stay-at-home husband gets the house and kids?" Her tone turned wistful. "I wish I'd been there this morning, though. Video calls just aren't enough."

  It had been enough for Audra, though she didn't say so. Her family had clustered around Sam's second-hand laptop – Audra's old computer – and exchanged Christmas wishes with her this morning. The boys hadn't stayed long to talk, because they'd been tasked with cooking Christmas lunch on the barbeque, and her father had followed them to supervise. Sam and Mum had laughed, explaining that last year, they'd burned the sausages, so they'd been warned not to be so careless this year. When Mum had left to prepare the salads, Sam had stayed on just long enough to bemoan how much she missed Audra, because Christmas dinner just wasn't the same without her.

  Of course it wasn't. Audra had spent the better part of a week preparing everything for Christmas dinner, and at least two of them cooking, every year until last year, when she'd finally had a break. She wondered who cooked now she didn't live at home any more, but she wasn't game to ask. Taking care of her family had been a fulltime job before she left, and she didn't want to admit how nice it was not to have that responsibility any more. Because that made her a bad daughter and a bad sister, didn't it?

  Bells chimed outside the LQ, reminding Audra to whip her camera out.

  "Santa's here!" someone cried, pointing out the window. "Look! He has his elves and reindeer and everything!"

  The reindeer – expeditioners kitted out in the station's white hazmat suits, with felt antlers clipped to their hoods – and similarly green-suited "elves" pranced around outside the window for a bit, before heading inside. The sound of bells grew louder as Bruce...whoops, Santa's entourage appeared and took their places around his tinsel-covered throne.

  Audra's name was one of the first he called, so she dutifully kissed Santa's blushing cheek and took her gifts back to the table to show Shelley. Shelley's turn came soon after, so she handed the camera back to Audra, who set it on the table in front of her so it could record the event without her help. She'd edit it later. For now, the two women sat back, sipping their drinks, as the other expeditioners collected and unwrapped their Christmas gifts.

  Jen shrieked with delight at her seal, to the room's amusement, and Bruce carefully tucked his vodka away under his throne as he called the next name: "Jean!"

  Jean squeezed through the crowd to reach Bruce. Audra's sharp eyes noticed he favoured one leg more than the other, but she didn't think anyone else had spotted his limp. He hid it well.

  He took his gift from Bruce, then tore open the wrapping in front of everyone and held the beer up like a trophy.

  The construction guys in the corner, all recruited from the same mining project in Hedland that had been permanently mothballed, whooped and cheered. They recognised the beer, all right.

  Jean didn't seem to realise what he'd received. He peered at the label, shrugged, and returned to his seat at the table with the construction team.

  Shelley leaned toward Audra and said in a low voice, "Funny. I don't remember his name on the Secret Santa list when I paired everyone up. Isn't that your favourite beer?"

  "A lot of people like it up in Broome," Audra defended herself. "Maybe someone decided to educate the Canadian with some of Australia's best beers."

  "Or maybe someone gave it to him in the hope that he'd share it with you."

  Audra shook her head. No way was someone at the station trying to matchmake her with her roommate. "They'd have to be the only person on the sta
tion who doesn't know about how I shouted at him the other night." Davis was like a village – once one person heard something, everyone knew it.

  "Or they figured he'd need a sizeable bribe to get back into your good graces?"

  That made Audra laugh. "It'll take more than beer to get on my good side."

  Shelley looked uncomfortable. "I know that, but still. He hasn't behaved anywhere near as badly here as he did on the boat. Everyone talks about how friendly and helpful he is. The same sort of things they say about you." She hesitated, then ploughed on. "I imagine if he'd caused any trouble for you, you'd have raised the whole SAM, just like you did the other night."

  Audra was still embarrassed at the memory, but that wouldn't stop her if Jean tried to get her to share a bed with him. "If he had, you wouldn't have had to wait to hear the gossip. You'd have heard me ripping him a new one all the way across the compound at SMQ."

  "True."

  A loud crack, like a gunshot, sounded outside, followed by several more.

  Audra's eyes met Shelley's. "The lake," they both said together, sprinting for the door. They paused only long enough to grab coats and boots before they headed outside.

  Sure enough, the solid surface had fractured in several places, and water sloshed between the gaps. Audra pointed her camera at it for a few minutes, before it became apparent that nothing else was going to happen. She switched it off and tucked the camera into her coat pocket.

  "We can shower tonight," Audra said. She'd never craved the feeling of hot water cascading over her body quite this much.

  "I think there'll be quite the queue," Shelley said, nodding toward the crowd who'd joined them outside.

  "You know what this means, though? It means the new computer model I made works. An error margin of minutes, not days or weeks, like it was before." Audra's heart soared. "If I could test the model on some of the inland lakes, maybe we could turn it into a tool for predicting climate change effects. Maybe even turn it into a big enough project for me to do a PhD."

  "You're as crazy as I was, looking for excuses to stay," Shelley grumbled. She eyed the crowd. "What about the bet they had going? Between the dance troupe and the synchronised swim team? My guys said before Christmas and yours said after, so for it to happen exactly today..."

  "We could call the whole thing off," Audra said slowly, "or we could say it's a draw and they both have to perform at New Year's Eve. Let the other staff at Davis vote on the winner." She couldn't help grinning.

  Shelley shrieked with laughter. "Oh, that's brilliant! A draw it is. We'll do it. Just wait until you see their faces when I tell them."

  "Actually, I'd better start researching synchronised swimming. I may have coached, but it was all in swimming strokes for races or rescues. Not exactly pretty."

  "Bite your tongue! Once you get their shirts off, those boys will be all kinds of pretty. I have to make mine dance." Shelley frowned. "And decide on a song."

  "Good luck!" Audra called as she headed for the SAM and her laptop. Game on.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  "Don't forget your six-pack of sunshine!" Paul called after Jean, pointing at the beers Jean had left on the table.

  Jean snatched up the box and tucked it under his arm. Fruit beer. What a strange gift. At first, he'd thought they were taking the piss, or at least that's what they called it when they were trying to feed him a crazy idea like it was some sort of scientific law. But the more they waxed lyrical about beer made from mangoes, of all things, the more he figured they must be telling the truth. Especially when they told him to ask his roommate, because she'd worked near the brewery that made it.

  He wasn't about to ask Audra anything. After shouting at him the other night, she'd gone back to avoiding him. Which meant she was probably still out celebrating, so he could lie down on his bed and nurse his medication-induced hangover for a bit without anyone knowing. Maybe even take some Tylenol to take the edge off. If anyone asked, he'd say he'd overindulged at Christmas dinner. He wouldn't be lying, either. The last time he'd had a Christmas dinner that good, his mom had made it.

  Jean stretched out on his bed, planning to stay there just long enough for his legs to stop aching.

  He woke what felt like hours later, stiff from lying in one position for so long. Jean blinked the sleep from his eyes, wondering what had woken him.

  "Merry Christmas to you, too, Jay," he heard Audra say.

  "Did you get my present?" asked an eager male voice with a strong Aussie accent.

  "Yes, thank you," she said. "I'll have to fish out some ice from the lake to celebrate the thaw with it."

  "How's your Christmas been so far?"

  "Lovely. Actually, it's my first white Christmas. There's still snow on the ground, even though it's summer."

  "Mine sucks," he said.

  Audra made a sympathetic sound. "What happened?"

  "Nothing happened. I'm just home with my family, because that's what you do at Christmas. And they're taking turns, telling me off for signing up for that reality TV show, because that's what they do at Christmas."

  Jean wanted to ask which reality TV show Audra's friend had been on, but he held his tongue. She might not have noticed him and he didn't want her to bite his head off for eavesdropping.

  "I've already told you what I think about it. You can't expect me to suddenly change my mind and tell you they're wrong. It wasn't one of your brightest ideas." Audra sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

  "Yeah, and I agree with you now, but that doesn't make it any easier. They're treating me like a teenager again. Irresponsible and incapable of making my own decisions. If you'd agreed to marry me, they wouldn't be doing this. They'd be too busy making wedding plans with you. I wish you were here."

  Jean's mouth hung open. She'd turned down a marriage proposal? It didn't sound like he was some stranger she hated – she took his calls and he sent her Christmas presents when the postage to here must've been astronomical.

  "Jay, even if I was there, I wouldn't be at your parents' place. I'd be at home, making Christmas dinner for my own family. To be honest, I'm happier here."

  "I don't want to be here, either. Can I come visit you?" Jay asked.

  "There's not enough water for showers, it's bloody freezing, and the recent storms have confined all the researchers to the station, so we're packed to the rafters with people. Even if you did find a way down here, you'd be lucky to get a couch to sleep on."

  "I could share with you."

  Audra snorted. "No, you couldn't. Besides, I already have a roommate."

  Audra glanced at Jean's bunk and met his eyes.

  Uhoh. Sprung.

  Jean made the best of it. He sat up and shifted so he was visible in the angle of Audra's webcam. "Hi!" He got his first look at Audra's boyfriend, as that's what he had to be. The man looked familiar, somehow, but Jean couldn't place him.

  Jay's eyes widened. "You're sleeping with another man?"

  "Yes, Jay, and it's none of your business. You know what my advice is? Go home. Go back to the island and forget about your family. Family's great, but they can be a bit much sometimes. You've made your obligatory visit, and you don't have to stay any longer than you want to. Go home!"

  "You really think so?" Jay had forgotten Jean already, it seemed, in light of his own problem. Some boyfriend.

  "Yes! Now you go and enjoy your Christmas and your new year, too. I'm going to make like a Disney movie and go build a snowman." Audra ended the video call.

  Now what was Jean supposed to say? He wanted to apologise for eavesdropping, but he'd been here first. She'd woken him up with her call.

  He decided on a different tack. "So, is that your boyfriend?" Jean asked.

  Audra scowled. "No. We used to work together at the resort. He still lives there."

  "What reality show was he talking about?"

  "Rock Star Wants A Wife. It only ran for one season and hopefully won't run again."

  Nope. That didn't compute. Jean
ventured, "Was he one of the wives, or...?"

  Audra blew out an angry breath. "He was the bachelor. It didn't work out, because she was a homicidal bitch. Are we done with twenty questions, or are you going to ask me my bra size, too?"

  With a huge effort, Jean managed to keep his eyes from straying to her breasts. He'd probably pushed his luck too far already, but he'd never been one to quit while he was ahead. "Why do you hate me so much?"

  Hurt flared in her eyes. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Still no words came out. Finally, she said, "I don't hate you. I don't hate anybody. Not even Jay and he...never mind. You probably wouldn't think he did anything wrong, either."

  It wasn't an answer, but it was an improvement.

  "Can we start over?" Jean asked cautiously. "Pretend I didn't have that accident last year, that you didn't have to nurse me, and that we're meeting for the first time as colleagues?" She looked too young to be a PhD candidate, but he'd been wrong before. He extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Jean-Pierre Pennant. I'm doing my PhD on king penguins with the University of Washington and this will be my third summer in Antarctica."

  Audra took a deep breath. "I'm Audra Zujute. I'm a graduate meteorologist with the Australian Bureau of Meteorology and this is my second summer here, but I'm about to join an expedition to the South Pole as soon as this bad weather clears. My second trip there."

  Jean whistled. "I haven't seen the pole yet."

  Audra shrugged. "I haven't seen Heard Island yet, so we're even."

  It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her to come with him, but Jean clamped his mouth shut. He wasn't on some holiday where he could bring a pretty girl along after he'd known her for all of five minutes. They were both here to work, before heading off in different directions to pursue vastly different research interests.

  Audra closed the lid of her laptop. "By the way, I'm going to post a flyer on the noticeboard. First synchronised swimming training session will be tomorrow at three, by the lake. Just in case you hadn't heard we're on for New Year's Eve."