Maxine went through the dive yet again. Okay, it was starting to get a bit boring now, and I was zoning out. But I knew she was just doing her job, that she was an amazing teacher. And I was so glad that she’d be in the water with us.
‘Any last questions?’ she said.
Again, Joy had some.
As Maxine finished answering them I could see that even she was getting a bit exasperated with Joy.
‘Joy,’ she said. ‘You probably need to stop thinking so much.’
Joy gave her half a smile, if that.
‘Okay, let’s hit the water.’
‘Just one last thing?’ said Joy.
I’m pretty sure Maxine rolled her eyes.
‘Sharks?’ said Joy.
‘I’m afraid if you’re going to think about sharks every time you dive then you’re probably better off not diving.’ said Maxine.
Joy thought about this for a while and then said, ‘Let’s go.’
The Swiss went over first, and then it was Joy’s turn, and then my turn.
Even with all those exercises in the pool I hadn’t got used to the wonder of diving, of being able to actually breathe underwater.
And here, in the open water, it was especially magical.
Again that flush of gratitude for Dad and Mom, especially Dad, because it was pretty obvious that he had driven this holiday – this was a whole new world they’d given me the password to.
I gave Joy the okay sign. She gave me one in return.
I pointed my thumb downwards. Let’s go down.
I got one in return.
So far so good, but it was pretty obvious who was the senior diver here. Me! The whole fifteen years of me.
I felt both proud and worried.
Joy started descending, her legs and arms, strangely uncoordinated; they seemed to be working against each other.
Still, she was moving, and that was the main thing.
I followed, keeping my distance from her thrashing fins.
I checked my meter – we were four metres down. Only six to go.
Then two to go.
When I looked at the bottom below, the patches of sand, the coral-encrusted bombies, fish flitting about, I had this thought that was both very strange and very seductive: Yamashita’s Treasure could be here!
It couldn’t be, of course – Yamashita’s Treasure was somewhere near Diablo Bay, but I still couldn’t lose this feeling of excitement and expectation.
But what was Joy doing?
Instead of going down she was swimming parallel to the bottom, towards one of the bombies.
And she was swimming quite quickly – suddenly she seemed to be amazingly well coordinated.
I looked around for Maxine, but she was with the two Swisspackers.
The visibility, which had been quite good before, had decreased a lot.
I didn’t have any choice; I took off after Joy, catching up to her just as she reached the bombie.
Now I could see what she’d been chasing: an enormous turtle.
It really was pretty incredible – it was just floating there, looking at us, with what looked like a smile on its face.
Okay, I know turtles really only smile when they’re cast in a Disney animated movie, but it did look like it was pretty happy to see us humans.
Joy looked over at me and gave me a huge thumbs-up.
It wasn’t really the right signal – a thumbs-up means to ascend – but I knew what she meant.
I looked behind – the Swiss and Maxine were out of sight now.
I indicated to Joy that we should be getting back, but she seemed to be totally mesmerised by Disney the turtle.
I gave her arm a tug.
She pulled her arm away and made a shoo! gesture that definitely wasn’t in the PADI dive manual.
But then the turtle was gone.
Just like that – one second it was there, all turtle-like, and the next second there was nothing but cloudy water where it had been.
I noticed now that we’d drifted to the other side of the bombie, and the other side of the bombie was a whole lot scarier because on this side of the bombie there was a serious drop-off.
Where the water seemed to plunge deeper and deeper.
I remembered the echo sounder, how scarily jagged the bottom had looked.
Again I tugged at Joy’s arm – Let’s get the hell out of here!
Joy turned her face to me, her eyes huge behind her mask.
What had she seen?
It didn’t take long for me to see the answer to this question.
The answer to this question was grey, and it had fins, and a mouth full of teeth.
The answer to this question was a shark, and it swam past.
The answer to this question wasn’t big, though.
Less than two metres long.
Still, it was a shark, and that part of my brain that dealt with sharks and crocodiles and all potential life-terminating animals acted appropriately.
Get the hell out of there, it said, and I could feel the adrenalin pouring into my bloodstream.
But Joy seemed stunned.
Again I tugged at her arm.
Come on, let’s get out of here.
I’m not exactly sure what happened next, it all happened so quickly.
But Joy grabbed me, and she was pushing me down, like she was trying to climb on top of me.
And she knocked my mask askew and the regulator out of my mouth.
I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t breathe.
I tried pushing her away, but she was holding me tight.
So I unzipped my BCD, and I unclipped my weight belt, so grateful that I’d practised this in the pool, and let them drop to the bottom.
Without any weight, I immediately started ascending.
And I remembered the training: the CESA, the controlled emergency swimming ascent.
I had to expel air continuously or my lungs would burst.
It seemed to take no time at all before I was at the surface.
The boat was a surprisingly long way away.
Joy broke the surface a couple of seconds after I did.
‘Thank god you’re okay,’ I said.
She looked at me. She screamed. And her mask filled with blood.
I thought she was dead, thought she’d done exactly what we’d been told about a thousand times not to do: when you ascend, don’t under any circumstances hold your breath.
Because if you do, your lungs will burst.
I grabbed her mask and slipped it off her face. I could see now that the blood was coming from her nose.
I remembered Maxine telling us that nosebleeds weren’t uncommon when you first started diving.
‘Are you okay?’ I said.
It took Joy a while to answer, during which time I guessed she was doing some sort of inventory.
‘I blew it,’ she said, which probably wasn’t the best analogy to use when diving.
I nodded – how could I not, she really had blown it. She’d broken just about every rule in the PADI manual and had almost got us both killed.
‘There is no way Maxine’s going to pass me,’ she said.
With good reason, I thought.
But then I had another thought, one not so straightforward as the first.
It went something like this: Maxine would only know that Joy had mucked up if I told her. If I didn’t tell her that Joy had mucked up, then Joy owed me big-time.
‘Not necessarily,’ I said.
A gleam came into Joy’s eyes; I guess you don’t hang around the political scene and not develop a retriever’s nose for a shonky deal.
‘Are you saying we could come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement?’ she said as she bobbed up and down on the waves.
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
‘But what do you want from me?’ she said.
I considered waiting to tell her, but then it occurred to me that the best time was right now, when
Joy’s shameful behaviour was still fresh in Joy’s mind.
‘That girl on the boat, do you know who she is?’
‘Imogen?’ said Joy.
‘Imogen Havilland,’ I said. ‘And I believe she’s been asking for some information which your organisation has been reluctant to give her.’
The look on Joy’s face said it all: What in the blazes is going on here?
‘It’s a coincidence,’ I said. ‘Don’t get yourself too hung up on it. All you have to think about is the deal: yes or no?’
Joy took about a nanosecond to reply, ‘Yes.’
‘And you promise to give Imogen the information she asks for?’
‘I promise.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’
I took an enormous breath, and I went down.
The fins I was wearing were hi-tech silicon graphite, and the resulting propulsion was incredible, but ten metres was ten metres – a long way under.
As the pressure increased, I made sure to equalise, pinching my nose.
I could see the BCD, the weight belt next to it.
No air left, my lungs were saying.
My brain was telling me that it was time to go up for some.
But I kept kicking.
My hand reaching out, I grabbed the regulator.
I sucked greedily at the air.
Again I was thankful for all the training we’d done in the pool as I put on my weight belt and then slipped into the BCD.
I then made a slow, effortless ascent.
Joy was still there, still bobbing around. Her nose, thank god, had stopped bleeding.
‘I think they’ve seen us,’ she said. ‘The boat’s coming here.’
She was right – the boat was headed in our direction.
We only had a couple of minutes before they arrived.
‘Okay, this is what we tell Maxine,’ I said, launching into a story about following the turtle.
‘No mention of the shark?’
‘Absolutely not.’
Maxine wasn’t happy, and who could blame her?
‘A turtle?’ she said.
‘That’s right, a turtle.’
‘Maybe you two need some more time in the pool,’ she said.
The Swisspackers didn’t high-five each other, but they may as well have.
My guts felt as empty as my tank – I should’ve let Joyless Joy drown!
The skipper, who I hadn’t noticed standing outside the door to the wheelhouse, said, ‘Max, a word if I could.’
Maxine disappeared inside with him, returning five or so minutes later.
‘I’ve decided that we’ll all go ahead as planned,’ she said.
‘Awesome!’ I said.
The next two dives went flawlessly, Maxine diving with Joy and me, not letting us out of her sight.
At the end Maxine said, ‘Well, congratulations, you’ve all graduated.’
I looked over at Joy. For once she was living up to her name: she really did seem bursting with joy. The look she gave me was of one hundred per cent gratitude, and I knew there was no way she would renege on her part of the deal. I felt a bit guilty – I certainly wouldn’t want to be Joy’s dive buddy if she ever saw a shark again – but that didn’t last for long.
But as we headed back to port, Imogen and I sitting together at the stern, I started to question whether I had actually done the right thing. Mrs Havilland had told her daughter not to get involved; who was I to question her judgement? She must’ve known just how ruthless the men her husband had been campaigning against were. And, remembering that Joy Wheeler had said that the Silvagnis were once members of the Labor Party, I wondered what Imogen would actually uncover. Could my own father have somehow been involved in his best friend’s disappearance?
But these concerns didn’t last long.
Firstly Maxine approached, and said, ‘Dominic, this is between you and me, but we’re diving on a wreck tomorrow, and I reckon you’d love it.’
I looked over at the Swiss, the Swiss she hadn’t asked. Now it was my turn to gloat.
‘I would love it,’ I said.
‘Meet here at seven,’ she said.
And then Imogen seemed to move in closer, the tendrils of her hair touching my arm, generating more electricity than the Diablo Bay Nuclear Power Station, with all its nuclear fission, ever did.
‘I’m feeling a bit cold,’ said Imogen.
‘Do you want to go inside?’
Imogen laughed, and said, ‘Wrong answer,’ and leaned into me.
Now I got it – I put my arm around her shoulder.
‘It’s just like in Titanic,’ said Imogen, looking at the boat’s rippling wake. ‘But back-to-front.’
‘Cinatit?’ I said.
‘Cinatit,’ she replied.
And I really wished Cinatit would go on forever, but all too soon we were pulling into the wharf where Dad was waiting for us. He looked a bit wound-up, not as loose as he had for the last few days.
‘You guys have a good time?’ he asked, as we got into the car.
‘Great time,’ I said.
‘Great time,’ Imogen concurred.
‘And tomorrow’s going to be even better!’ I said.
‘I’ve been asked –’ But Dad didn’t let me finish my sentence. ‘Got some bad news, sport.’
Sport?
Dad never called me that; I got ready for the baddest of bad news.
‘We’re heading back to the Goldie first thing in the morning,’ he said.
‘But why?’
‘I’ve been outvoted,’ he sighed, as if this was some sort of inevitability. ‘There’s nothing I can do about it.’
I hated Toby. I hated Miranda. I hated Mom. All those stinking outvoters. But only for a second or so – that was something else The Debt had taught me: no use wasting energy on stuff that can’t be changed.
‘That’s okay,’ I said. ‘I can stay here with Mrs Havilland.’
‘They’re going back tonight,’ he said.
‘We are?’ said Imogen.
‘You are,’ said Dad, and once again I wondered about the relationship between Dad and Mrs Havilland.
‘I’ll be fine by myself,’ I said, even though I knew how desperately ridiculous those words sounded; no sane parent is going to let a fifteen-year-old kid stay on an island by himself, Debt or no Debt.
‘We’re heading back to the Goldie tomorrow morning,’ said Dad, the stamp of finality in his voice.
‘Okay,’ I said, but already my mind was shifting up through the gears, coming up with ways to return to Reverie, to get on one of Maxine’s real open-water shipwreck dives.
As we left the town something occurred to me. ‘When’s Mom going to Beijing?’
‘In a couple of days,’ answered Dad.
‘So Gus is looking after us? I said.
‘Gus will be in charge,’ said Dad, throwing me a look, and a sort of half-wink.
Okay, I got it now – tomorrow we’d go back home, but as soon as Mom had gone Gus and I could return to Reverie.
By this time we were driving through what I liked to think of as Zolton-Bander Land, with its scrubby landscape and prefab houses on blocks and rusted-up vehicles everywhere.
The day on the water had obviously taken it out of Imogen, because she’d fallen asleep in the back seat.
I remembered what Tristan had said the first time I’d driven through here: Somebody should drop a bomb on them.
Suddenly I had an idea.
‘Dad, can you drop me off here?’ I said.
He looked around, obviously not impressed by what he saw. When he opened his mouth I was sure he was going to say something like, ‘What do you want to do here?’ or ‘I don’t think that’s a great idea.’
But instead he said, ‘Of course, if that’s what you need to do.’
I nodded – that’s what I needed to do.
‘So you’ll be fine to get home?’ he said.
‘
I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘And you can tell Imogen I just wanted to go for a run?’
I watched him take off, and then walked towards the Banders’ caravan.
Ever since the crazy visit to Gunbolt Bay yesterday, something had been flitting about at the edge of my consciousness.
Every now and then I would almost catch a glimpse of it, and I would think got you! But then it would disappear out of view again.
It was something about the Zolt, about Yamashita’s Gold, some connection I hadn’t made, and it was driving me crazy.
So why not come here, I’d reasoned. To the Zolt’s other home.
As I passed the old mudbrick community centre, I remembered the first time I’d been here. How it had been Hound de Villiers’s idea. And then all that happened after fast-forwarded through my head.
But then something occurred to me. I’d been less than welcome that time; what made me think anything was going to change this time?
Zoe and I hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms when I’d last seen her.
I’d pretty much stolen Mrs Bander’s son from her.
And what about the Mattners?
Was I crazy walking into a place like this unarmed, unannounced? Just because I suddenly had this mad hunch?
An unseen dog growled. And then another one.
Brainwave: I’ll give Zoe a call! Tell her that I’m here.
But as I went to take the phone out of my pocket, it rang.
Zoe calling …
What the?
I answered it.
‘Don’t go one step further!’ she said.
‘But how do you know where I am?’ I said, looking around.
Just as I’d suspected, there was a CCTV camera on a nearby light pole.
Paranoid, much? I thought.
But it occurred to me that a much better question was Paranoid, why?
What, or who, were they hiding?
‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ said Zoe.
The urgency in her voice and the thought of two angry Mattners, marsupial and non-marsupial, was enough to keep me rooted to the spot.
True to her word, she arrived a minute later.
She looked a whole lot taller than the last time I’d seen her. And she’d lost the Heidi plaits; her hair now hung loose over her shoulders. She had also acquired a more stylish pair of glasses. And she had what looked suspiciously like a tan – had Zoe been spending time outdoors?
‘Wow, makeover,’ I said.
Yamashita's Gold Page 10