He put goggles on and dived in. His arms pulled him through the water until he settled into a rhythm and then it was as if the water carried him, almost propelled him. All his life he’d been a swimmer. Such a lovely word; it seemed somehow to contain the simplicity and ease of what a swimmer was. He needed to have hope that he could navigate his way through this mess. That his and Ned’s and Adie’s love was founded on something durable and ancient. If Rachel ended it, if he had to let go of her too, he would. But he would not, ever, let go of his children.
When he climbed out, his phone showed a missed call from Rachel. He dialled her back, dripping onto the hot cement. Perhaps they would come to Christmas lunch tomorrow after all.
Ned answered. ‘Daddy?’ His voice was eager.
‘Ned.’ Blood thumped in Quinn’s ears. This was the first time they’d spoken on the phone since Rachel had asked Quinn to move out.
‘Hello,’ said Ned. Quinn heard the liquid call of birds in the background.
‘What are you up to, matey?’
‘Talking to you. Just finished wrapping up Mummy’s present. Do you want to know what it is?’
‘I do.’
‘A clay skink I made with Clarrie.’
‘Oh, she’ll love that.’
‘Where are you, Dad?’
‘At the pool. I just had a swim.’
‘You have a pool at your new house?’
‘No, I’m at the big pool in town. In Corimbi.’
‘Tomorrow is Christmas Day, did you know?’
‘Yes. I did know.’ A small girl ran past Quinn, her towel trailing like a cape. ‘And I’ve given Mummy some presents for you. She’ll give them to you tomorrow. And we’ll talk on the phone before you go to Clarrie’s, I hope.’
‘When I stay at your other house, where will I sleep?’
Quinn had to steady his voice before he could speak. ‘There’s a bed for you, a special bed in your own room. I bought red sheets for it. I thought you would like red sheets.’
‘Good.’ The phone clunked as Ned laid it down.
‘Bye, Noodle.’ He heard his son’s footsteps bang through the house and the screen door slam. He listened for Rachel but there was nothing. Quinn sat on the step of the grandstand, phone to his ear, listening to the silence of their house.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Alex Craig, Emma Rafferty, Cate Paterson, Brianne Collins and Tracey Cheetham at Pan Macmillan for their enthusiasm and expertise. Gratitude to my lovely agents at Curtis Brown: Pippa Masson and Grace Heifetz. For advice on matters medical, thanks to Dr Bob Lodge, Dr Dave Moss, Dr Devora Lieberman, Dr Penny Hall, Kumari Ellis and Dean Trevaskis; naturally, any errors are entirely mine. For feedback, thanks to: Emma Ashmere, Jesse Blackadder, Hayley Katzen, Amanda Skelton, Steve Armstrong, Annette Barlow, Jessie Cole and Alan Close. For sharing their memories of Banaba/Ocean Island, thanks to Stacey King, Ken Sigrah and the family of Capt W. J. H. (Bill) Forster. For other information and fact checking, thanks to Odette Nightsky, Philip Griffin and Kerri Mellifont. Thanks to Christa Moffitt for the beautiful cover. Thanks to Marion Armstrong and Jen Bond for playing with Amelia while I wrote. And thanks to Amelia for the inscrutable little messages she slipped under the studio door. Thanks to the Literature Board of the Australia Council, Varuna – the Writers House and the Northern Rivers Writers Centre. Above all, thanks to Alan for practical support, encouragement and for being willing to talk about the nitty gritty of plot and character at any time of day or night.
About Sarah Armstrong
Sarah Armstrong’s first novel, Salt Rain, was shortlisted for several awards including the Miles Franklin. She was a radio journalist at the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, where she won a Walkley Award. She now lives in northern New South Wales with her partner, writer Alan Close, and their young daughter.
First published 2015 in Macmillan by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Limited
1 Market Street, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, 2000
Copyright © Sarah Armstrong 2015
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
This ebook may not include illustrations and/or photographs that may have been in the print edition.
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the National Library of Australia
http://catalogue.nla.gov.au
EPUB format: 9781743537060
Typeset by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Cover design by Christabella Designs
Cover image: Getty Images
The characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Supported by the Australian Council for the Arts
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