by Janet Gover
As Jenny watched them walk away, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Kit was standing at the very back of the chapel, as always avoiding notice. He was the only person not looking at the happy couple. His eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She hadn’t spoken to him since she and Vera had … Images flashed into her mind. Paintings with bright splashes of vivid colour. Paintings that hinted at a woman standing just beyond the edge of the canvas. Paintings of her?
After she’d seen the paintings in his cabin, Jenny had found a moment alone at the internet desk and had googled Kit Walker. Everything that Vera had said was true. Jenny had vague memories of seeing the story in the news, but she had been too busy trying to pass her final exams to pay any attention. Looking at the photos of Kit and his wife, Jenny had been struck by what a beautiful couple they made. How happy they both looked. There was one photo taken as he left her funeral. His face was in shadow, but his body was bowed as if broken. There was nothing after that. He had shunned the spotlight. The paparazzi hadn’t been able to find him. All the media could report was the increasingly astronomical prices being paid for his work.
His work …
The paintings she had seen in his cabin were nothing like his earlier work. Brilliant as the early paintings had been, they lacked the wild spirit and undisguised passion of the paintings in Kit’s cabin. It was as if he had discovered something deep inside himself and given it full rein. Was she in some way a part of that sudden outpouring of passion?
‘Jenny?’
She started. She had been so lost in her thoughts she had forgotten Glen was by her side.
‘You have been so busy with the wedding, you haven’t seen anything of this place,’ Glen said. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. ‘Let’s go for a walk. Just the two of us.’
Jenny sought for a polite way to say no. After the emotion of the past couple of hours, she really didn’t want to go with Glen. It was entirely possible he might get carried away by the mood of the moment, and that would lead to an awkwardness she would really rather avoid.
And she had a sudden urge to be alone.
Before she could answer, the long low blast of the Cape Adare’s horn echoed over the tiny settlement. It was time to leave.
Chapter Nineteen
It was the strangest wedding reception he had ever seen. The bride was still wearing her wedding dress, so Kit guessed this was a wedding reception. They were, however, lacking one important ingredient – the groom.
The party in the lounge had started as soon as the passengers had come back on board. Apparently the crew had planned a Christmas Eve party, but that had quickly morphed into a wedding reception as the ship got underway, leaving the groom back at McMurdo Station . Lian was standing in the centre of the crowd, looking at once pleased and a little lost. Kit felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew what it felt like to be alone under a spotlight that was meant for two.
Vera was with Lian. Her hands were, for once, empty of her notebook and pen and she had the ship’s doctor by her side. But someone else was noticeably absent.
Kit searched the room one more time. Jenny still wasn’t there.
She hadn’t been on the top deck last night either. He’d waited there for a long time, no longer enjoying the solitude that he had once sought so desperately.
In the past few days, Kit had felt something he hadn’t for a very long time. He was lonely. He had spent far too much time alone since Dana’s funeral. He’d missed her. But he’d never felt lonely. Never wanted the company of anyone else. Until now. Those few minutes each night on the top deck with Jenny had become the most enjoyable part of his day. The most important part of his day. Those few minutes always ended far too soon. Before he had gathered the strength to say the things he wanted to say. To thank her for the incredible gift she had given him.
He turned his back on the celebration and climbed the stairs to the top deck, trying not to hope she would be there.
There was no wind, just the faint breeze caused by the ship’s motion. The sun was hanging just above the horizon, turning the peaceful ocean into a molten gold mirror. She was standing at the very front of the deck, looking out over the white wilderness of ice across the golden water. Kit stood rock still, fixing the moment in his heart and soul, already knowing how he would capture this timeless moment on his canvas. His fingers ached with the need to paint. But his heart ached with the need to be with her.
He walked across the deck to take his place at her side.
Together they watched the sea and the ice. When Jenny moved, it was to look at his hands. Kit followed her glance, and saw the paint splashes on his skin.
‘Ah. So you have figured it out.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘Vera guessed,’ Jenny said. ‘She kept finding sketches you’d drawn on bar napkins. Mostly guns and masked men.’ She hesitated as if to say something else, but stopped before the words were formed.
Kit nodded. ‘Of course. She’s pretty sharp.’
‘Did you know she’s a famous author?’
‘Yes.’
Beside him, Jenny let out a long sigh. ‘It seems like I’m the only one who didn’t know.’
There was a few minutes silence.
‘I had to google you,’ Jenny finally admitted. ‘I’m not into … well … I know nothing about art. I’d never heard of you … Sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry about. I never wanted to be famous. It still surprises me when people know who I am.’ He hated to think of the things she might have seen on the internet. ‘So now you know everything about me.’
‘No. I don’t,’ Jenny said firmly. ‘I only know what was in the papers. Tell me about you.’
Kit thought for a long moment. What could he give to Jenny that was his alone to give?
‘There was this comic book I loved as a kid. The Phantom. It wasn’t one of those glossy graphic novels you see now. It was simple black and white. On pretty cheap paper. But it was wonderful. The Phantom wasn’t a superhero. He had no superpowers, as such. He was just a man who tried to right wrongs. That’s why I went to art school. I wanted a job drawing Phantom comics. I sent them lots of drawings and pestered them for a long time.’
‘That explains the sketches of guns and masked men on the bar napkins.’
‘I do it all the time,’ Kit said. ‘Usually when I’m thinking about something else. One day some barman is going to make a lot of money selling them.’
‘Did you ever get the job?’
‘No. But years later, before I moved to New York, I contacted them again and offered to do a cover design for one of the comics.’ The memory came flooding back and Kit began to chuckle softly. ‘They said no.’
Jenny laughed too. Kit let the sound wash over him. That laugh had become the best part of his day.
‘So you went on to be a famous artist. I bet they were kicking themselves for saying no.’
‘I do hope so.’
The silence between them now was gentler. The air was so cold, he could see their misty breaths as they intertwined and blew away. There was so much he wanted to tell her. Perhaps it was time.
‘When I was young, I sketched in black and white. Even when I started painting, those early works were in muted colours. Mostly grey. It wasn’t that I had a hard childhood or anything like that. Maybe I was just naturally a bit melancholy. I seemed to see the world in grey.’
‘I saw some of those paintings online. They were good.’
Kit closed his eyes. Over the years, he’d received praise and awards from many critics. Those three words coming from Jenny brought him so much more pleasure.
‘I started painting in colour when I moved to New York,’ he said, determined to tell her what she deserved to know. ‘I met my wife there.’ He hesitated, uncertain if he could continue.
‘I saw her picture too. She was very beautiful.’ Jenny’s voice was a whisper in the twilight.
It was suddenly much ea
sier to go on. ‘She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I was just starting to make a name for myself. I was dragged to the ballet one night. I didn’t want to go, but a big art dealer insisted I accompany her, and I couldn’t afford to offend her. When I watched Dana dance, everything changed for me. I stayed up all night trying to capture her beauty. But I couldn’t do it. All the paint I had was black and grey and white. I didn’t have the right colours.’
Kit smiled as the good memories came flooding back.
‘I went around to an artist friend at two o’clock in the morning and woke him up so he could give me the oils I needed to paint. Then I painted in a frenzy for days. Those were the paintings that finally launched my career. I sent one to Dana with an invitation to dinner. She accepted. I was already in love with her, but it took me a couple more weeks to win her over.’
Kit stopped speaking. Something was happening to him. For two years, these memories had brought with them grief and anguish. Pain and longing so strong it had almost destroyed him. But this time was different. He still grieved for the loss of his beloved wife, but the pain was not as sharp as it had been. And in the midst of his sadness, there was also some joy. For the first time since that dark, dark day, he could treasure the love he had once shared, even for such a brief time.
He felt the tears moisten his eyes.
Jenny blinked back her own tears. She could feel his grief like a tangible presence in the twilight. He must have loved her so very much. How could anyone ever replace that?
Her online search had shown her the paintings inspired by his wife. They were stunningly beautiful but at the same time, delicate and fragile. Nothing like the canvasses in his cabin below their feet.
Dana had inspired Kit to paint pale and elegant beauty. Pinks and delicate yellows. Fine strokes and elegant shapes. Who then had inspired those slashes of wild passionate colour Jenny had seen in his cabin? Was she the one? It was almost too much for her mind to grasp. She wanted to ask him, but she could not bring herself to reveal that she had invaded such an intensely private and personal a place as his art.
‘I am so sorry about your wife,’ she said softly, reaching out to touch his paint-stained hand.
‘Thank you.’ His hand moved to grasp her fingers. He held her hand for just a few seconds, but it felt like an age … long enough to melt the icebergs or freeze the sun.
‘So, now you know all about me,’ Kit said. ‘Tell me about Jenny Payne.’
‘If you googled me, you wouldn’t find anything,’ she replied. ‘I’m not at all important.’
‘Actually, I did find you. The university site listed you as a tutor.’
She blinked back her surprise. ‘I guess they haven’t gotten around to taking my profile down. I only resigned a couple of days before the ship sailed.’
Jenny hesitated. Kit had opened up to her about his wife … should she tell him about her foolish affair with Ray? Beside his terrible loss, her foolishness with her professor seemed so … unimportant. Like him, she was running away … hiding here on this boat. But her reasons now seemed frivolous. Her affair with Ray was nothing. She wanted to give him some part of herself that mattered.
‘I come from a very big family,’ she said. ‘I have four brothers and three sisters.’
‘You must miss them, being so far away.’
‘Yes. And … no. At home I was always surrounded by family. Sometimes, I felt lost in the middle of it all. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and I know they love me. But with that many people in one small home … well … it can be a bit much sometimes.’
As she spoke, Jenny realised something about herself.
‘I always felt a bit overwhelmed. All my brothers and sisters are brilliant in some way. Good at something. Clever. Popular. Pretty. I guess there were times I felt a bit … mousey beside them.’
She heard Kit give a snort of derision. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, Jenny. Mousey is not a word anyone would ever apply to you.’
She was absurdly pleased by his words.
‘When I signed on for this trip I’d just quit my job. I’d done something stupid. I was involved with a professor who, it turned out, was a total sleazebag. So, I ran away to sea,’ Jenny chuckled. ‘I guess I’m not the first to do that.’
‘No. Probably not.’
‘I didn’t tell my family. Couldn’t face them. They would all be supportive and helpful, but I didn’t want that. I guess that’s one of the things I’ve enjoyed about this trip. Having time to be myself without them. Oh!’ Jenny felt a surge of panic. ‘That sounds awful doesn’t it? I do love them honestly. And I miss them too …’
‘It’s just nice to be your own person.’
‘Yes.’ Kit was right. He, who must have been so desperately alone after his wife died, understood how hard it sometimes was to be never alone.
‘So, now that you have found your own place, what are you planning to do with it?’
That really was a question. One Jenny had begun to ask herself. This job had only ever been a temporary thing. A place to run and hide. But you can’t do that forever.
‘Well, I guess first I had better tell my family I’m not at the university any more. I thought about finding another uni, but I’m not sure that’s what I want to do now.’
‘What do you want to do?’
Jenny was lost for an answer. She had thought about leaving the academic world behind, but had still not decided what was going to replace it. As she sought to answer Kit’s question, Jenny could feel the vague thoughts that had been hovering at the back of her mind begin to take form and substance.
‘I like teaching. I always have. But teaching at uni was different to teaching here. At uni, the students wanted to learn so they could pass their exams. Here, the people just want to learn. I like that. And I am loving the places we’ve been visiting.’
‘So, you’ll sign on full time as a cruise lecturer.’
‘No. But I would like to teach people about the wonderful, wild places we have. I want people to appreciate them.’ As she spoke the words, Jenny realised that they were true. Her desire to stay at uni had been prompted by her feelings for Ray. Feelings that were now so far in her past, she could barely remember what she saw in him. Instead, she was beginning to see a new direction for her interest in marine biology. ‘I think I might want to work to preserve the wild places. Maybe become some sort of campaigner.’ she said. ‘Who would have guessed I was a tree-hugger? Here, an ocean away from the nearest tree.’
She looked at Kit, and saw the slight smile on his face. Oh God, she thought. He’s laughing at me.
‘I think that’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘I envy the trees.’
He may have meant the words as a joke, but they hung in the air between them and for a very long moment, the world seemed to fade. Jenny was aware only of his handsome face, the depth of his dark eyes and the way her body seemed to sway towards him of its own accord, wanting to make a physical connection to reflect the emotions stirring her. Willing him closer. His face was just a hair’s breadth from her own. She could feel his breath on her skin. If she listened, she might hear the beating of his heart – because her own heart seemed to have stopped as she waited for the touch of his lips to hers.
The ship’s horn sounded – a long deafening blast that caused both of them to jump back as if burned.
‘Oh, it must be midnight,’ Jenny said. ‘I guess that means it’s Christmas Day.’
‘I guess it is,’ Kit said as behind him, laughing people began to appear on the deck, bringing the party with them.
‘Merry Christmas, Jenny.’
The kiss was the caress of a butterfly wing. So soft she might have imagined it, but for the trembling of her heart and the ache deep inside her. She closed her eyes to savour the moment, and when she opened them, Kit was gone.
She caught a glimpse of him striding away through the crowd of revellers surging onto the deck.
‘There you are,’ Glen appeared
. ‘I wanted to wish you Merry Christmas.’
Glen took her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. It was a longer kiss than the occasion technically dictated. Glen kissed her the way a man would kiss a woman he found attractive. It was a kiss full of the promise of more to come.
It was nothing.
Chapter Twenty
There was no dawn on Christmas Day. Inside the Antarctic Circle in summer, when the sun never sets, there can be no dawn. The sun simply begins to climb back up the sky. As it did, the Cape Adare slid gracefully through the Ross Sea, its wake the only ripple on the surface of the still water. The ship’s forward passage gradually slowed, until it came to a full stop and dropped anchor.
The whole world seemed to hold its breath. Still and silent.
On board the ship, the passengers were, for the most part still sleeping after a late night at the combined Christmas Eve party and wedding reception. The detritus of the party had been cleared away by the hotel staff and the main lounge sat empty, the Christmas tree lights glowing softly.
In the owner’s cabin, light streamed in from the balcony onto an easel and a painting which almost seemed to reflect the golden glow.
There was no movement in the expedition crew quarters. The team of guides and lecturers were getting all the sleep they could before what promised to be a busy day. This was the last stop on the voyage and the passengers’ last chance to set foot on the frozen continent. The turning point. At the end of the day, the sinking sun would see the Cape Adare heading north. The Christmas tree would be broken down before they reached the wild waters of the Southern Ocean, and then … home.
The only people who saw the sun begin its climb up the sky were the ship’s crew. The officers and seamen whose job it was to run the ship and protect those sleeping in their beds. There were always people on the bridge, their eyes moving in a constant circle from the glowing electronic displays on the instrument panels to the big glass windows and the vista beyond.
Captain Haugen was clutching a coffee cup as he made his way onto the bridge. He greeted his watch officer and listened to his report. The captain’s grey eyes swept the water. As he did, the stillness was disturbed. A whale breeched about half a kilometre from the ship. The giant creature seemed to be reaching towards the sun, wanting to be free of the ocean. Its body twisted as the leviathan fell back into the water with a mighty crash, sending water shooting into the air. In his years at sea, Captain Haugen had seen such a sight many times. But each time was as if it was the first – filling him with awe.