by Sara Foster
He rolls his shoulders, trying to relax. The reminiscences of Monkey Mia have set his mind straining, as though trying to push some connection into his consciousness. Then he realises: the book he’d seen Maya slot into a drawer. He hadn’t recognised it at the time, but now he thinks he knows what it is.
He has an overwhelming desire to check. He gets up and creeps towards Desi’s bedroom, sits on the bed and pulls the drawer open as quietly as he can. He takes out the red leather book and lets it rest in his hands for a moment. He can’t abide snooping. What if he’s mistaken, and this is Desi’s diary? Then Maya shouldn’t have been reading it, and neither should he.
Before he can get into a debate with himself, he opens the cover and begins to turn the pages. He’s right. It is one of Connor’s logbooks from Monkey Mia: tables of data, and short snippets of information. Columns for dates, times, dolphin names, observations and series of letters and figures that Pete knows match up to sound recordings. Looking at the dates, he sees it would have been the end of the research period. Sure enough, while the first half of the book is full, the rest is blank pages.
Why on earth had Maya taken this? He flicks through again, seeing only more of the same information. What use could it possibly be to her?
He returns the book to the drawer and lies on Desi’s bed, hands behind his head, thinking hard. In the background, he is vaguely aware of his phone bleeping once, signalling an incoming message, but he is too busy trying to put himself in Maya’s position, imagining what she’s been up to. He thinks of all the questions she has asked about Connor since Desi went to prison. He knows she is angry with her mother, too much to admit how much she has felt her absence. But he had forgotten she is already missing a father too – for Pete had been concentrating on filling the gap. Since this book can serve no practical purpose, he suspects she took it to be close to her dad.
Pete understands that Maya will always have a longing for Connor that he can never assuage. And that she sometimes overlooks Pete as a father figure, perhaps because his relationship with Desi is so indefinable. Over the course of her lifetime he has been away a lot. How is she expected to trust he will be there for her? And yet he wants to point out that he has never missed a birthday. That he calls without fail every week to see how she is. And that when he had to make a difficult choice, he chose her. I’m here, he is desperate to say. And I promise not to go anywhere, whatever happens. It is safe to lean on me.
Is that realistic, though? Can he make that promise in truth?
‘Your phone is beeping.’ Desi is standing at the doorway, her eyes weary, clutching his phone.
He holds a hand out and she passes it over, then comes down and lies next to him on the bed while he reads the message. It’s from Declan.
‘I need to talk to you about Berani. Call me when you can.’
Pete sighs and checks the time.
‘Are you okay?’ She puts her hand on his arm.
‘I don’t know.’ He sits up. ‘I need to make a call.’
But when he rings Declan, it goes through to voicemail. ‘Call me,’ Pete says. ‘I’ll be awake for a while.’
Desi pulls herself up to sit beside him on the bed.
‘I’m thinking of going to see Maya,’ he says.
‘When?’
‘Right now. I think we’re getting it wrong, waiting for her to come to us. She might appear grown-up, but she’s fragile. I want to talk to her properly. Let her know I’m here for her.’
‘I think that’s a good idea.’ She hesitates. ‘Can I come too?’
23
Jackson
Jackson and Kate have spent all day catching up. Which means they have spent quite a bit of the time in bed in his caravan, his two small fans whirling uselessly to counteract the heat. For a while, Jackson forgets everything except the sublime press of her skin against his, but they get hungry as the sun goes down, so, reluctantly, he gets dressed and searches his cupboards for something he can make. He hasn’t stocked up since his trip, and in the end they share a tin of fruit and a packet of crisps.
‘I apologise for this,’ Jackson says, as he passes Kate some slimy slices of peach. ‘I’ll cook for you properly tomorrow, I promise.’
Kate smiles at him. Earlier on she had been thrilled to see him, but now she is quiet.
‘You okay?’
‘Fine.’
He can’t stomach it any longer. He has to know. ‘Look, have you got anything to do with a group called White Wave?’
He realises he’s dropped it on her without warning, but he’s still surprised to see how instantly she freezes, the vitality draining from her face. Confused, and a little ashamed at what he’s done, he ploughs on. ‘For what it’s worth, I’ve browsed the website and it sounds amazing. Something to be proud of.’ He smiles encouragingly, willing her to open up.
‘I used to work with them – I don’t any more.’ Her voice is cool and hard.
‘You want to talk about it?’
‘No.’ She gets up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her chest, digging around on the floor for her clothes. ‘You’re right, though, they are a good group of people. How do you know about them?’
‘My boss recognised you – his name is Ian Fellows. He’s the one I’m working with on whale shark research. He told me he met you years ago when he was diving in Phuket. And he also said’ – and here Jackson tries his best to laugh as though he’s suggesting the most ridiculous thing, but he is aware of his heart thundering – ‘that he thought you were dead.’
‘Really?’ Kate’s voice is cold. ‘Well, as you can see, I’m not.’ She is pulling on her skirt. As she finishes dressing, he is alarmed to see her looking for her bag, and realises she’s planning to leave.
‘Hey, hey, Kate …’ He moves across to take gentle hold of her arm. ‘You’re not going, are you? What’s wrong? Come on, you can tell me.’
‘I don’t like this, Jackson. It feels like you’ve been checking up on me.’
‘I wasn’t, I promise. It was pure chance that Ian spotted the photo. It was one I took of you on the boat last month. I was just looking at it one evening.’ His voice softens, pleading. ‘I was missing you.’
She peers hard into his eyes, and he sees her features relax. He wants to blow out a sigh of relief.
She goes across to sit on the bed and puts her head in her hands. Neither of them say anything for a while, as she stares at the floor, thinking.
Then she looks up.
‘There are complications in my life, Jackson. I don’t want to tell you about them right now, but I will later. I have to keep a low profile for a little while. So I need you to trust me.’
‘Why, what have you done?’
She smiles and shakes her head. ‘I haven’t done anything. But, like I said, I need you to trust me. If I could talk about it, I would – but I can’t. That means you have to restrain yourself from asking questions, just for the time being. Can you do that?’ She gets up and comes closer to him. ‘Whatever this is’ – her hand moves back and forth between them – ‘it’s happened out of the blue, and right now’s not the best time for me. Please, trust me.’
‘You didn’t have a problem with us a few hours ago.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
Jackson leans against the door and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, she is still watching him, waiting.
Hasn’t he always had an inkling that this thing is too good to be true? And here it comes, any future he might have envisaged against his better judgement, now unravelling as Kate becomes someone he hasn’t really got to know these past few weeks, who won’t even confide in him. And if he says any of this, he can see in her eyes that she will go. She feels no obligation to him. She has him over a barrel; they both know it.
‘Look,’ he says eventually. ‘I’m an uncomplicated guy. I don’t often do relationships at all, and I especially don’t do the drama of ones like this. If you can’t trust me now, I think I’d rather you go,
until you can.’
What the hell are you saying? he is asking himself, even as he is speaking.
But Kate nods in agreement. ‘I actually respect you more for that, Jackson. And I’ll keep my distance for now, at least until I can be honest. Okay?’
Jackson shrugs in what he hopes is a blunt attempt at indifference, and goes to sit on his bed. The night becomes surreal, as Kate collects her bag and heads for the door. His mind is flashing through every snippet of information he knows about her, but there aren’t nearly enough pieces to be able to pin this puzzle together.
‘Is this it, then?’ he asks quietly.
She turns to him, her expression sad. ‘I guess it is, for now. I’ll leave in the morning.’
She is about to let herself out when someone knocks loudly on the door. He sees her pause, unsure, and gets up, pushing in front of her to see who it is.
To his surprise, Pete is standing there. And, to Jackson’s shame, his sister, whom he hasn’t caught up with yet, is waiting too.
‘Have you seen Maya?’ Pete asks. ‘It’s pretty late and she’s not in her van.’
Jackson falters, not wanting to sound like he hasn’t been paying attention to his niece either. ‘She’s eighteen, isn’t she? She’s probably out partying somewhere.’
Pete gives him a strange look. ‘Does that sound like Maya?’
‘Okay,’ Jackson says, annoyed, pulling his shirt on, ‘let’s go and find her.’ He is in such a hurry to get outside that he barely notices Desi and Kate catching sight of one another. Pete follows him on the short walk to Maya’s caravan, with Desi trailing behind them, but the place is dark. Pete goes ahead and knocks anyway, but there’s no answer.
Jackson glances around as though he might spot Maya coming towards them from the darkness. ‘I haven’t seen her since I got home.’ He begins to panic. ‘Have you?’
‘Yes, don’t worry, she came to the shack a couple of days ago,’ Pete says. ‘We just decided on an impromptu visit.’
‘I tried her mobile a few times on the way here,’ Desi puts in. ‘But it’s going straight through to voicemail.’
‘I saw her earlier today,’ Kate says in the background. ‘She was heading inside.’ She gestures to the caravan, standing impassively in the dark. ‘She seemed okay to me.’
Jackson looks from Kate to Pete and Desi. ‘Sorry, I should introduce you. Pete, Desi, this is Kate.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Pete says, stepping forward and shaking Kate’s hand.
Desi doesn’t move. She is staring at Kate strangely, and Jackson imagines he must look as surprised as Pete when she finally speaks.
‘It’s good to meet you,’ Desi says. ‘But I have to ask – are you really Kate, Connor’s niece? Or are you Katherine – his daughter?’
24
Pete
‘I can’t believe you knew all this time,’ Pete says, as they drive to the shack. There had been no point in hanging around waiting in the dark, and Jackson is watching out for Maya. As they left, Pete had listened in astonishment as Desi invited Kate for brunch the next morning. The time has arrived. If he wants to get in first, he’ll have to spill everything he knows tonight.
Desi is distracted, still trying to reach Maya on the phone. ‘We were in love, Pete. You didn’t think Connor would tell me he had a daughter?’ she snaps.
Her words are like a slap in the face. He tries to ignore it.
‘Well, why did you never mention it?’
‘What was the point? We didn’t have any connection. I just knew of her.’
‘But she’s Maya’s sister.’
‘Look, if his parents had kept in contact it would have been easier. They were generous in the beginning, but they cut me off after that, Pete. And to be honest it was easier all round that way.’
Pete is silent for a while, thinking. ‘I have to tell you a few things,’ he says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Desi turn to stare at him. Then his phone rings. ‘Damn.’ He glances quickly at the screen and presses speaker. ‘Hi, Dec.’
‘Hey, Pete. Listen, I did some checking for you on Berani. Apparently he’s not been sighted for a few weeks. They’re not too concerned yet, but since he struggled to get settled they’re keeping fingers crossed that he’s seen again soon. Just thought you’d want to know.’
Pete’s heart sinks. He thinks of Berani on the first days of his release, when he had edged cautiously around the outside of his cage, studying the perimeter of the forest, as though unable to believe he was really allowed up there in those tall, endless trees. Nowadays they inserted electronic tracking chips inside an orang-utan’s skin before release, but Berani had left before it became standard procedure. ‘Okay, thanks, mate. If you hear anything else, let me know, will you?’
‘Of course. And listen, call me when you’re around. We’re well past due a beer, okay?’
‘Thanks, Dec, I will.’
‘How much of a worry is that?’ Desi asks after he has ended the call.
Pete shrugs. ‘Hard to tell.’
But the guilt reappears. If he’d been there, over the critical readjustment period, Berani would have had proper continuity of care. If he hadn’t had to leave …
They reach the end of the corrugated road out of Lovelock Bay, and Pete turns onto the tarmac and speeds up.
‘So, what were you saying earlier?’ Desi asks.
Pete takes a deep breath. ‘I need to tell you something, before Kate comes to see you tomorrow.’
‘O-kay,’ Desi says. ‘Go on.’
‘Why don’t we wait until we’re at the shack?’
‘God, if you need to see my face or hold my hand or something, stop the car. Tell me now, Pete. Quit freaking me out.’
He knows she’s only snappy because of her worry about Maya, but he’s fed up with it nonetheless. He sees her surprise as he pulls over, brings the car to a halt and turns in his seat to face her. ‘Okay, then. Kate’s mother Elizabeth – she’s dead too. I don’t know all the details, but I know she passed away at the same time as Connor. From what I gather, they died together.’
He’s aware of her confusion as she tries to process this. ‘They were together when they were mugged?’
‘Yes – well, I think so. I got the strong impression there was something more to the story. I’ve been hunting for the letter Connor’s parents sent me. I know I kept it, but I haven’t found it yet. Look, Kate will probably tell you more. I don’t know exactly what she wants to say to you tomorrow, but just be prepared.’
He pulls out onto the road again. The silence in the car expands, the air becoming dense with unspoken questions.
‘You mean, you think they were still a couple?’ Desi asks in a small voice.
Pete grimaces. ‘I honestly have no idea about that. They shared a daughter, so they’ve got reason enough to meet up. Did Connor tell you about Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, although it was towards the end of our time together. He said they were very young when Elizabeth fell pregnant, and when they broke up they remained good friends. He said that Katherine – Kate – lived with Elizabeth’s family, but Connor’s family regularly had her to stay too. He made it sound like it had all worked out for the best. And I never got the impression he was hiding anything … He missed his daughter. He was looking forward to seeing her. If he and Elizabeth were still a couple, why would he come all the way over here without his family?’
‘You’re right – it doesn’t make sense.’
‘No, it doesn’t. Not after the way he was with me.’ She pauses. ‘I’d just presumed Kate was curious about us. What more could there be to it?’
Pete hesitates. ‘I’m sure you’re right. She probably wants to meet you – and Maya. Who knows when she found out about you, and what she’s been told?’
They are silent for a little while longer. ‘So, is there anything else?’ Desi asks, as they approach the shack.
Pete tenses. ‘There is something … Please don’t be mad, okay? It’s
about the shack.’ He stops the car, switches off the ignition and turns to her.
‘When Connor died, you were left in the lurch, Des. And I wanted to help …’
As he watches her, he is frustrated to see she isn’t listening. Then he realises that something has caught her eye, and follows her gaze towards the verandah. ‘Who’s that?’ she asks. But she doesn’t wait for an answer, just flings open the car door and begins to run.
Pete is right behind her as they race up the steps.
‘Maya?’ Desi says, her voice a mixture of tenderness and horror as she kneels down.
Maya looks up from where she sits on the front mat, her face frightened and tear-stained. ‘Please help us,’ she says. ‘I promised I wouldn’t take him to hospital.’
And Pete stares down past her stricken expression to the young Aboriginal man, unconscious and bleeding in her arms.
III
Speak your truth quietly and clearly.
MAX EHRMANN
WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
As she powers through the water, the question never leaves her. It swirls in her head, defying the angry growl of the boat engine, which gets closer all the time.
They are running her down.
She knows she hasn’t enough speed or strength to evade them. She can’t out-power a motor. But within the cold fear of what may be coming for her arises a strength beyond her own imagining.
She keeps her head down. She will not lose focus yet. All she has to do is keep swimming, as fast as she can. All she has to remember is that while there’s any shred of hope left within her, she will not give up.
25
Kate
It is 1998. Eleven-year-old Kate is visiting her paternal grandparents in Half Moon Bay, a small town on the west coast of America. She has snuck into one of her favourite hiding spots, her grandmother’s large built-in wardrobe, with a Disney book and a plate of cookies, hoping she won’t be discovered for a while. She nestles down underneath the tea-rose-scented fabrics, between the bags, shoes and hats, then her back hits something hard. She turns around to see what it is, and pulls out a heavy, chintz-covered box. She struggles with the lid, but it is locked. Nonplussed, she returns to her stories.