The Reef (36 page)

‘I suppose you thought about that when you were in those war zones,' said Jennifer quietly.

‘It does make you start to see how stupid unwinnable wars fought out of ignorance and for the wrong reasons are.' He put his glass down. ‘Come on, off to bed. Will you be able to sleep okay? You're not scared or anything?'

Jennifer stood up and handed him her mug. ‘That was great, I feel more relaxed. And, no, I'm not too worried. The bogyman will get you before me.'

Tony smiled. ‘Think of me as the guard dog on the doorstep.' He opened the door as Jennifer stepped past and turned to him.

‘G'night, Tony.' She started to yawn.

He inclined his head and kissed her on the cheek, and then on the lips. Two swift brushes that surprised her with their tenderness.

‘What was that for?' she asked with a soft smile.

He grinned. ‘Dunno. S'pose I just joined the Shark Club. I've never done that before.'

‘Kissed someone?'

‘No. Done something I've wanted to do but never felt brave enough to actually do it. You took the plunge today, so, I guess, did I.'

They looked at each other for a moment from either side of the doorway.

‘It only means I think you're special, Jennifer. Keep going forward. You're going to be all right, you know that.'

‘I think I do. I think you're going to be just fine too.' She turned and started up the steps.

‘It's this place,' said Tony.

‘And the people. Sleep well.'

She went into her room and inhaled the scent of roses. Curled on her side, cradling her child within, Jennifer slept peacefully.

The next morning Jennifer joined Mac and Lloyd in the resort cruiser to go to Headland to see Rudi. Rosie saw them off.

‘I heard there was a break-in at Rudi's lab. Any idea why, or who?'

‘Can't say, Rosie. Was amateurish though, didn't look like a well-planned event. Spur-of-the-moment thing.'

‘Why do you say that, Mac?'

‘Didn't bring any of their own gear to put stuff in or take it away. They were using a trolley from your joint.'

‘Do you think it was one of the staff? Who'd be that interested?' said Rosie in surprise. ‘How would they have known?'

‘All the staff knew when Rudi was flown out,' said Jennifer. ‘You know how they gossip. Maybe Blair has some ideas.'

‘I'll talk to him when we get back this afternoon,' said Mac.

They piled into Lloyd's old station wagon that Vera allowed him to keep in the parking lot at the wharf, and Jennifer rang her mother from her rarely used mobile.

‘No answer. She might be playing tennis. Or even working at the hospital.'

At reception they were directed to the high dependency floor where Rudi was still under observation. Jennifer asked if they could find out whether her mother was in the hospital.

‘I really couldn't tell you who the volunteers are on duty. What's her name?'

‘Mrs Christina Campbell.'

‘Oh, Tina. She's a card, isn't she? If she comes by is there a message?'

‘Mention that her daughter is here. Just visiting,' she quickly added.

Only one of them was allowed into the fourbed ward where patients were being monitored. Mac went in while Lloyd and Jennifer sat outside. He came out fifteen minutes later, Jennifer and Lloyd scanning his face for some indication of Rudi's condition.

‘He's going to be okay,' Mac said.

‘Phew. What happened?' asked Lloyd.

‘Let's get a coffee. I'll tell you what I know. He's being moved into another ward later today. His mother and brother are coming up.'

‘He could talk, tell you what happened?' asked Jennifer as they walked down the wide blue hallway. She noticed the tropical flowers on the nurses' desk, the colourful pictures of Queensland
flora, fauna and favourite locations. It seemed more like a tourist office than a hospital.

‘Yes, not that it helped. Says he has no idea. He must have blacked out.'

‘Oh my Lord, Jennifer . . . Are you all right?'

There was a flurry behind them and they turned to see Christina, in a blue-and-white striped uniform, hurrying towards them.

Jennifer held up her hands. ‘I'm fine, Mum, don't panic!'

She hugged Jennifer. her eyes flicking down to her belly. ‘You might have told me you were coming.'

‘We're just visiting a friend who got sick suddenly. I was about to call you, I asked if you were in here on the off-chance.'

Christina turned to Mac, giving him a candid stare. She ignored Lloyd, who was hanging back slightly.

Mac held out his hand with a smile. ‘I'm Macdonald Masters. It was rather a sudden dash over from the island. Fortunately our friend is recovering.'

Jennifer could see her mother taking in Mac's pony tail, faded Hawaiian shirt over a university T-shirt, cotton cargo pants and rope sandals. ‘Professor Masters is the research director at the station run by the university on Branch Island. And this is Lloyd Dane, who runs the charter boats. He brought us over.'

‘Oh, I see. And what happened to your friend? At least it's nice to know you can race across if you need to.'

‘The island might seem isolated out there on the reef, Mrs Campbell, but with the helicopter and a fast boat, you can get here quicker than sitting in a city traffic jam,' said Mac.

‘I like your uniform, Mum. What do you do?'

‘We're the Sunshine Girls. We bring free magazines, books, sweets –if they're allowed – all kinds of little gifts to patients. We visit people who don't have people to come and see them, wheel them outside for a walk, perhaps.'

‘Bringing a little sunshine into people's lives, eh? I like it,' Mac said, smiling.

Christina didn't smile back. ‘We take our job quite seriously. In fact, I've been asked to help out in the respite unit down the road as well.'

‘Good on you, Mum. And how's the tennis?'

‘They're quite a nice group. Mind you, I'm so busy I can't spend a lot of time just socialising,' said Christina as they got to the lifts.

‘We're going down for a coffee. Can you join us?' said Mac.

‘I don't want to take you away from your friends. Can you spare me some time, Jennifer? Or are you rushing back?'

‘We did come over in a bit of a rush.'
How come you make me feel guilty so easily?

‘It's okay, Jenny, we needn't go back till late this afternoon. I'm going to see my dad about the yacht we're leasing. Please come along, Mrs Campbell. Have you been north of Headland Bay?' asked Lloyd.

Christina looked at the handsome young man
as if seeing him for the first time. She beamed. ‘Why, no. I'm afraid I don't drive. How far away is it?'

The lift doors opened and they walked to the small coffee shop off the lobby. Mac and Jennifer followed Lloyd and Christina. Mac grinned at Jennifer. He knew Christina had dismissed him as a university hippy while she found chatting to freshfaced, clean-cut Lloyd far more appealing.

They sat at a small table and Mac went to the counter and ordered a pot of tea, coffee and carrot cake.

‘And how long have you been over on that island, or do you stay on boats?' Christina asked Lloyd.

‘Grown up with boats, my father is a shipwright. He's restored an old yacht that we're going to charter for guests at the resort.'

‘Lloyd knows Blair, of course,' said Jennifer.

‘He's my boss, along with Rosie. But, like Jennifer, I spend most of my time at the research station when I'm not on a boat.'

‘Is that so? And how does Blair feel about that?' Christina raised her eyebrows towards Jennifer.

‘He's very understanding. Mac is supervising the course I'm doing,' Jennifer said.

‘I thought you were writing something. Well, once the baby arrives, you'll be too busy for any of that. Now, Lloyd, my brother and his wife are coming up this way. Perhaps they could go for a sail, fishing or something?'

Jennifer was about to leap in and say it was rather expensive but Lloyd nudged her foot under the table. ‘I'm sure we can arrange it.'

‘That would be wonderful. Poor dears, they've had a terrible time. Did you hear what happened, Jennifer?'

Before Jennifer could speak, Christina, holding centre-stage, plunged on. ‘Just terrible. My brother has been breeding birds for years. Now – they're all gone. Like a family, they were. He's devastated.'

‘What happened?' asked Lloyd.

‘Oh, it was terrible. Don was playing bowls and Vi had gone into town for the day. When he came home he found the wire cages had been cut and all the birds were gone, stolen. My brother had been breeding some unusual-coloured parrots and budgies. The police said it was a professional job,' she added.

‘From a suburban backyard? Were they valuable? I know he adored his birds,' said Jennifer.

Mac put the tray on the table and passed around the carrot cake slices. ‘It's not uncommon. It's easier to steal birds bred in captivity than to capture them in the wild.'

‘They went around the pet shops to see if anyone was trying to sell them. No luck,' said Christina.

‘They'd be out of the country by now. They get big bucks for them. A black cockatoo could fetch several thousand dollars in America. They pay hundreds of dollars for sugar gliders or baby wallabies.'

‘Good grief. Is it legal?' asked Christina.

‘Most of the time, no. By the time they end up with reputable dealers, shops or a licensed seller, it's impossible to trace where they came from.'

‘Don't forget the internet. I bet most stuff is sold through sites you can't trace,' said Lloyd.

‘Well, fancy that. Who'd have thought anyone would be interested in Don's little hobby?' said Christina.

‘He must be so upset, not to say out of pocket,' said Jennifer. She was watching Christina eat her carrot cake. She had her little finger cocked and held her fork as though it were made of fragile crystal, placing tiny mouthfuls through rosebudpursed lips.

‘The nurse said we could pop back and see Rudi late this afternoon,' said Mac, to break the silence that fell over the table.

‘And what's wrong with your friend?' asked Christina, fork poised, finger cocked. Like playing ladies' tea parties, thought Jennifer.

‘We don't know. Rudi was working on an experiment in his laboratory and keeled over . . .' Mac stopped at a frown from Jennifer. ‘Could have been anything.'

‘Someone tried to steal his work too. Must have found something interesting,' added Lloyd.

‘That all sounds very unsavoury,' sniffed Christina. ‘Rudi, is that a Russian name? My goodness, it sounds like a spy novel. I hope you're not around any of these dangerous-sounding experiments, Jennifer.'

Jennifer laughed. ‘Now, Mum, don't start on some conspiracy theory. Do you like that cake? You seem to be . . . picking at it.' Jennifer couldn't resist asking and wanted to shift the focus of the conversation. She didn't want Christina to have more ammunition to try to get her off the island.

Christina put her fork down and neatly dabbed at her mouth with the paper napkin. ‘Well, as you've drawn attention to me, I'll tell you. Since I've been working around the aged you can't help but notice as people get older their manners go downhill. I want to make sure I don't start losing my social graces.'

They all laughed. ‘Mum, you're young! wouldn't worry. If you start drooling I'll let you know.'

‘Goodness, Jennifer, you don't have to say things like that. Even if I am about to become a grandmother,' said Christina stiffly.

Mac downed his coffee. ‘Well, if we're going north, we should hit the road fairly soon. Are you joining us, Christina?'

‘We can take you home to change,' said Jennifer.

‘Very well. A little trip would be nice. I don't get away much, you know,' she sighed.

Lloyd and Mac, catching Jennifer's eye, kept quiet.

In the car Christina was a different person. Mac and Jennifer sat in the back and Lloyd drove with Christina, who was keeping up a bubbling narrative of amusing stories about people at the
hospital. Lloyd laughed and Mac made a few dry asides that either went over Christina's head or she chose to ignore.

Lloyd's father, Heath, was under a boat hauled up on a boat cradle in the slipway. An older, weathered version of Lloyd, in his paint-spattered shorts, old shirt, canvas shoes and cotton hat, he nonetheless managed to look at ease, comfortable in his surroundings. Jennifer suspected he was not a man at home in office garb or surroundings. He whipped off his hat, and offered a shy smile and a firm handshake.

‘How's that pal of yours?'

‘He'll be fine, Dad. We can't stay long. How's our boat?'

‘She's in the water. The seams have settled, no more water coming in. Just a bit of the frilly stuff to do. Upholstery, galley gear. She'll be ready next week. I'll bring her over and take that cat back, eh?'