by Janet Gover
He found the huge sheet of oilskin and carried it to the glass doors that led to his balcony. It would be cold out there. Too cold. He glanced around his beautifully appointed stateroom and shrugged. He could always offer to buy new carpet. Once the oilskin was down, he set up the rest of his tools.
He paused then to look at the bar napkin again. He pulled out the sketches he had done during the voyage so far and spread those out on the table. A couple fell to the floor but he left them there.
He was close. He was so close. But had he come far enough? The passion and inspiration that had deserted him … was it back?
Silence echoed through the room. Silence echoed through his heart and soul.
Frustration began to claim him again, but this time he was determined the anger and the darkness would not win. He shook his head, and his gaze fell on the small cabinet beside his bed. He strode over and pulled open the top drawer. The drawer was empty except for a small white envelope. He lifted it, feeling the weight of something not made of paper. He tried not to look at the printing on the envelope. The text and logo were in sombre colours that suited people who dealt with death. The envelope was shabby. It had travelled far. He turned to look at the seal, closed a lifetime ago. Then he tore the top and tipped the contents into his hand.
The gold shone dully. The diamond sparkled even in the dim light streaming through the glass doors leading to the balcony. He closed his hand around the ring and the memories came flooding back. That day in the park. Dana so beautiful. The tears in her eyes as he slipped this ring on her finger. It was the happiest day of his life with other even happier days to follow. Until the darkness came to claim them both.
Fingers still clenched around the ring, Kit opened the sliding glass doors and walked out onto his balcony. It was freezing. The wind had dropped and the ocean was still – but it was so cold that it was painful on the bare skin of his face and fingers.
The ship lay at anchor. The water was like a mirror. He opened his fingers and looked at the ring one more time.
‘Goodbye, Dana.’ He whispered conscious of the tears streaming down his cheeks. Were they caused by the wind? Or by what he was about to do. He didn’t know. He didn’t care. There was no one to see him. To blame him. No one but himself.
He stepped to the railing, and closed his fist once more around the ring. He took a deep breath and threw the ring as far as he could. His eyes lost it. He caught no glimpse of gold. No flash of light reflected from the diamond. Not even a ripple where it fell.
But it was gone.
He didn’t give himself time to think. He turned back to his cabin, leaving the doors open so the pain of that freezing wind would stay with him. He looked at the tools laid out on the table. He pictured a smiling face and short dark hair. He heard her laugh. And talk to the dolphins. He reached for the brightest colours.
The tree was lovely. It wasn’t a real tree, of course. But it was beautiful anyway. Red and gold tinsel glistened in the light from what seemed like a hundred tiny silver bulbs. There were gleaming round balls of the same colours. And candy canes. And right at the top of the tree, a star shone brightly, lit from within.
Lian thought it was the most beautiful tree she had ever seen. Her parents had migrated to Australia as newly-wed adults and had never really adopted the western Christmas traditions. They celebrated the Lunar New Year and Tomb Sweeping Day. The Ghost festival rated highly in her family. But not Christmas. Lian had always loved the traditional Chinese celebrations, but she was as Australian as she was Chinese. Her parents had never really understood how much she wanted a family Christmas as well. She had joined school friends and work colleagues for Christmas parties, but that just wasn’t the same. Spending Christmas on board ship with her new friends would, in some ways, be easier than spending the holiday in her parents’ home.
‘You will be so lucky, little one,’ she said softly. ‘You will get both traditions. You’ll have the hungry ghosts and Santa Clause. I promise.’ She wasn’t in much of a position to make promises, but she knew that this one she would keep.
She made her way towards a table by the side window. From there she had a glorious view out over the ice-studded ocean. She wouldn’t be taking any excursions. She wasn’t about to risk her baby by venturing into a tiny rubber boat. In some ways, the thought saddened her. She would have liked to see something of this amazing place. After all, Colin lived and worked here … and would until after their baby was born. Lian closed her eyes and forced back a tear. It was going to be all right. It really was. It had to be …
‘Lian, you’re up and about early.’ Vera settled herself into a chair.
‘I couldn’t sleep.’
‘Is everything all right. You’re feeling fine?’
‘Yes. Just nervous. Tomorrow we should be at McMurdo Station.’
Vera beamed. ‘I imagine you’re anxious to see your young man. And he no doubt feels the same.’
‘He doesn’t know I’m coming,’ Lian whispered.
‘Doesn’t know?’ Vera’s carefully arched eyebrows shot up. ‘But surely you have let him know you’re on the ship?’
Lian shook her head. ‘We e-mail every day. But I haven’t told him.’
‘Why ever not?’ Vera asked.
‘He’d want to know why I was coming and then I’d have to tell him about the baby. I wanted to do that in person.’
‘Oh, my dear.’
Vera reached out to pat her hand in a motherly fashion, something that Lian found rather comforting. Her own mother wasn’t one for casual outward displays of affection.
‘You have to tell him. Today,’ Vera said. ‘He has to know you are coming – otherwise he might be away from the base on some expedition. You might miss him altogether.’
Lian’s heart sank. She hadn’t even thought of that. She buried her face in her hands. Everything she touched was turning bad.
‘Now. Don’t you worry,’ Vera said. ‘Let’s just go down to the internet café. There won’t be anyone there at this hour. You can e-mail him. You don’t have to tell him about the baby. You could say it is a Christmas surprise.’
Lian thought about that for a few seconds. ‘That’s a really good idea, Vera,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.’
‘I’ve had a bit more practice,’ said Vera getting to her feet. As she did, something caught her eye. She leaned over to retrieve a white bar napkin from the floor.
‘Oh …’ said Vera.
Intrigued, Lian leaned over for a closer look.
‘It’s another one of those drawings.’
Vera spread it out on the table. The sketch was of a woman, smiling out at them. She was quite beautiful, with long hair curling down to her shoulders.
‘I know this is silly,’ Lian said, ‘but I think she looks a little bit like Jenny.’
‘That’s not silly,’ Vera said. ‘It’s the eyes. She has Jenny’s eyes. Isn’t that interesting?’
Vera tucked the sketch into her handbag and together they left the lounge. At deck five, they parted ways. While Vera returned to her own cabin, Lian headed down one more flight of stairs. The internet café was deserted, but the PCs were sitting there, their screens glowing dully. Lian lowered herself into a chair and wiggled a mouse. The screen in front of her sprang to life, inviting her to take advantage of the free internet service the ship was pleased to offers its guests.
Quickly she logged in to her e-mail. There was nothing new waiting for her. Colin had e-mailed yesterday – but she’d already read that one. More than once.
New e-mail.
Hi Colin, she wrote. I’ve got a surprise for you – I hope you’ll think it’s a good one.
Chapter Seventeen
The two men were standing at either side of the tender lobby – and Vera had a pretty good idea they were both waiting for the same person.
She stopped by the corner of the lift, pretty much hidden from view, and watched both of them. They were so very different.
Glen was talking to the people around him. No doubt they were still asking about the dramatic rescue, but that didn’t seem to bother him. His bruises were fading and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he really was a handsome man, with his sandy hair and blue eyes. In fact, Vera suddenly realised, quite a few of the people talking to him were women. That made sense.
Kit, on the other hand was standing alone. His stiff body language discouraged casual conversation. His brooding good looks attracted covert glances from the women, but no one approached him. None of the women seemed willing to look past that cold outer shell. No – there was one.
Jenny was standing by the door that led to the crew quarters and she too was watching Glen and Kit. She was frowning slightly, but as her eyes rested on Kit, the frown was replaced by an entirely different look. Then she stepped into the boat lobby. At almost the exact some moment, both men turned to look at her. Glen smiled broadly. Kit didn’t, but something in his eyes changed.
‘Oh,’ thought Vera. ‘So that’s how it is.’
She wasn’t really surprised. Jenny was a lovely girl. Attractive and fun. She positively glowed with life and energy. Any man with a pulse would notice her, particularly on a ship where there were few single women. And most of those were, like Vera, no longer in their prime.
As for the men … both were extremely attractive. In different ways.
Vera looked from one man to the other. Then back to Jenny. The girl might not be aware of it, but her face told Vera everything she needed to know.
‘I’d better do something about that,’ Vera muttered under her breath.
‘Today’s expedition is to Cape Hallett,’ Karl Anders’ voice boomed out across the crowded lobby. ‘As yesterday’s landing was cancelled due to the weather, today we are visiting another penguin rookery. The Adélie penguins here were pushed away by earlier explorers wanting to build a station. But that station has been abandoned, and so the penguins are back.’
Vera saw Karl wave Jenny forward.
‘Let’s start loading the boats,’ the big man continued. ‘Jenny will take the first Zodiac.’
At that announcement, both Glen and Kit moved forward to be at the front of the queue for Jenny’s boat. If Vera was going to make a move, now was the time. Jenny was still making her way through the crowd. Vera stepped forward until she was in her path. As her friend approached, Vera suddenly gave a little cry and staggered.
‘Vera!’ Jenny was at her side in a heartbeat. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m feeling a little faint, Jenny.’ Vera whispered
‘Don’t worry. I’ll help you back to your cabin,’ Jenny’s voice, full of genuine concern, gave Vera just a twinge of guilt.
‘Thank you,’ she said, struggling to keep her voice quivering.
Jenny put an arm around Vera’s shoulders and somehow managed to catch her boss’s eye through the crowd surging towards the boat hatch.
Karl nodded and Jenny began to guide Vera towards the lifts.
While they waited for the lift to arrive, Vera risked a quick glance across at the boat hatch. Glen was gone, already loaded into the Zodiac. Kit was standing by the open hatch, obviously torn. He had wanted to go with Jenny, but to decline to step into the boat now would have attracted too much of the attention that he hated. A second later, he turned towards the Zodiac and was gone.
Vera felt a surge of energy. Yes! She struggled to remain bowed over, as if with tiredness until the lift arrived and she and Jenny were alone inside it.
‘Right,’ she said straightening her back. ‘First we need to stop at deck three.’
‘But Vera, your cabin is on five,’ Jenny’s voice had taken on the soothing tone of a nurse.
‘I know that, Jenny,’ Vera said. ‘But that’s not where we are going.’
‘We’re not?’
‘No. We’re not.’
At that moment the doors opened and Vera led the way out into the main reception area. Now they were fully underway, the area was deserted. Vera moved swiftly to the desk and the computer on it.
‘Vera, what’s going on?’ Jenny asked. ‘I thought you were ill.’
‘I’m fine, my dear,’ Vera said, quickly glancing around the desk. She reached for the top draw, but it was locked.
‘Damn,’ she muttered under her breath
‘Vera!’ Jenney’s voice was stern. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We don’t have a lot of time,’ Vera said. ‘Have you got your cabin key-card on you?’
‘Of course,’ Jenny said.
‘Can I have it for a moment?’
Jenny dug into the pocket of her jacket and handed it over. Vera examined it closely.
‘I thought as much,’ she said. ‘The crew cards are different. This should work then.’
She slid the card into the slot on the card reader next to the registration desk computer. The she reached for the keyboard.
‘Vera!’ Jenny exclaimed.
‘Shhh! Keep your voice down. I’m trying to concentrate.’
Vera studied the screen and reached for the mouse. A couple of clicks put her exactly where she wanted to be. There was the name Mr Christopher Walker. And the cabin number 642.
‘What are you doing?’ Jenny whispered, looking frantically around in case someone else was watching.
‘Reprogramming your cabin key’
‘What! Why?’
‘We need to investigate something.’
‘Investigate what?’
Vera didn’t bother answering. Her task completed, she retrieved Jenny’s card from the reader and set off towards the lift. Jenny followed.
‘How did you learn to do that?’ Jenny asked as the doors slid shut on them.
‘Just something I learned. You pick up all sorts of strange things in my line of work,’ Vera answered.
‘Your line …’ Jenny’s voice trailed off.
Ah, thought Vera. At last.
‘Vera Horsley … What’s your middle name?’ Jenny asked slowly.
‘Josephine.’
‘V.J. Horsley. There’s a crime writer by that name.’
‘Yes there is,’ Vera admitted.
‘That’s you!’
‘Yes. Now come on.’ The lift doors opened and Vera led the way down a long corridor. Jenny followed, her frown deepening as she absorbed the information she had just received. It wasn’t until Vera stopped outside a door that Jenny seemed to return to the present. She looked at the name of the suite and turned to Vera, her face a mask of shock.
‘No! Vera. You can’t just break into someone’s cabin.’
‘It’s not breaking. I have a key,’ Vera slipped the card into the slot.
‘No!’ Jenny grabbed hold of her arm. Vera winced at the force with which the girl was holding her. ‘I’ll get fired.’
‘No you won’t. I’m a crime writer. I know how to cover our tracks.’ Vera pushed the door open a crack. ‘He’s hiding something. Aren’t you just a little bit curious?’
Jenny’s hesitation was all the answer she needed to give. Vera pushed against the heavy cabin door with all her strength. It slowly opened and both women stepped across the threshold.
Vera let go of the door, oblivious to the sound of it slamming closed. Her jaw dropped as she gazed around the room.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘He’s THAT Kit Walker!’
The room was a blaze of colour. A riot that almost overwhelmed her senses. Jenny blinked, her mind staggering as it tried to understand what she was seeing. Canvasses lined the walls. Some were barely started. Others looked complete. Or very nearly so. They were good. They were powerful.
They took her breath away.
Slowly Jenny stepped forward for a closer look at the painting nearest to her. It showed a sky, shot through with colour. In the sky two giant birds soared together, seeming almost to move through the brilliance around them. Albatross, paired in flight. As she looked at them, Jenny had a feeling as if there was someone else in that painting
. Someone just out of sight. Someone reflected in the shadows of the birds eyes. Someone who could be …
She shook her head and moved to the next painting. Dolphins danced on the waves, life and joy and light seeming to shine from them as they played. Their bodies were half twisted in the air as if to look back at someone. Someone just outside the frame of the painting. Someone who was watching them.
It couldn’t be her. Could it?
The painting of the ice was as blinding in its intensity as the ice itself had been yesterday. Not white, but all the colours of the rainbow flashing through the painting as she moved towards it. And at one side, a wisp of something that might be the watcher’s dark hair.
‘Jenny.’ Vera’s soft voice drew her attention to a painting propped on a chair.
This one was far from complete, but already the image was leaping from the canvas. A girl on the deck of a boat. Looking out over the ocean. Her face was turned slightly away from the painter, but it was clear from the toss of her head that she was laughing. Jenny could almost hear the sound. Even incomplete, it was a breathtaking piece of art. It was …
‘Me?’ Jenny said.
‘Yes. You.’ Vera’s voice was full of awe.
‘I don’t understand,’ Jenny said, struggling to get the words out.
‘You really don’t know who he is, do you?’ Vera said.
Jenny shook her head. ‘I didn’t take art at school, and at uni I was always too busy studying …’ And falling in love with a professor, she added to herself. An arrogant underhand cheat of a man, who didn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the artist who had produced the paintings that lined the cabin.
‘Kit Walker was … is … a brilliant artist who took the world by storm. He’s Australian, but his work soon took him to New York and London. He was feted as a genius. He married a principle dancer from the New York ballet …’