Nate scowled at the image on the front page of The Express. It was good media coverage, except for the photo they’d chosen. Why? Nate wished for one wistful moment that he had control of which one they’d picked.
Of course, it had to be the one with Roberta, the loud-mouthed, interfering southerner. The camera flashed at the very moment he’d shoved her out of the way so the media could get decent shots of their placards and banners. The moment she’d torn the placard from him and fallen on her backside. His face, contorted with anger, bore down on her, and it didn’t look good. Great job, mate!
It peeved him no end that he hadn’t been more controlled. Their motto was for calm protesting, so the message was clear and not muddied.
He sighed, folded the newspaper and slid it to the other side of the small kitchen table. He leant on his elbows and raked his hands through his hair. Despite occasional bouts of despondency when it seemed their efforts were wasted, at least the write-up had favoured their argument.
He rose, remembering his only sister Natasha was interviewing a possible new staff member which included a room in the cottage as enticement. He was the only person living fulltime at the lake. After all the crowds left and the teahouse closed for the day, he wouldn’t mind the extra company.
He pushed his chair in, deciding to do a quick tidy up before his break ended. He hoped this new person was a stayer. He didn’t care if they were male or female, just someone prepared to work. Natasha, in charge of the teahouse and scone making, had struggled of late to secure good, reliable staff. Nate didn’t understand why. The work wasn’t difficult, except it did get busy. Working nine to three wasn’t too much to ask, was it?
Since he had a habit of keeping things tidy, there wasn’t too much to do. He’d been expecting someone to move into the cottage at a moment’s notice, so he kept the bare minimum there. Travelling with a backpack taught him how to live frugally. Before leaving three years ago, he’d disposed of most of his property. What he couldn’t part with, his parents willingly stored for him until he settled in his own place one day.
About to return to work, he did a final inspection of the open-plan kitchen and living area, pleased it was ready for a new roommate.
It was almost time to launch the boat for another load of tourists. Three coaches full of visitors had arrived for the morning rush. Not unusual for their teahouse. Situated on the banks of the iconic Lake Barrine, there were many days on his travels abroad when he’d missed it intensely. Six months ago, he came home, not regretting his decision at all. With his sister at the helm of the teahouse, it was his duty to share the workload and continue with his great-grandfather’s vision. He wouldn’t be the one to break the one-hundred-year-old family cycle.
He closed the door of the cottage behind him, taking another moment to appreciate his home. Midmorning sunlight danced along the surface of the sapphire-blue lake. The fringe of tropical rainforest added shadows to its edges, but the real beauty lay in being able to breathe in glorious, clean air. Not always possible in other parts of the world. Being away from where he was raised taught him so much. His home was a priceless treasure to protect until his dying breath. He was proud to continue his family’s vision. That included protecting the lake and surrounding tropical rainforest while allowing others to enjoy its beauty in a sensible and smart way.
Secretly, he’d missed home badly. He had pined for the calm waters of Lake Barrine. Had taken his first steps here. Taken control of the wheel of the flat-bottomed tourist boat on his grandfather’s and father’s lap before he could walk. Kissed his first girlfriend while they swam and paddled in the water. He loved everything about his unique home, and he wanted the rest of the world to enjoy such pristine environments the world over for eternity.
His heart thumped extra hard every time he realised how much work this entailed. There were so many short-sighted people who only looked at the financial gain. The one that would line their pockets. Never about the lasting environmental damage for decades to come.
Walking down the concrete steps leading to the jetty, he fisted his hand. Thumping it against his khaki shorts, he vowed he would fight tooth and nail for this.
Which reminded him of the debacle with the woman, Roberta. The sudden popping up of wind farms across the world took his breath away. They hadn’t done the proper research yet. The entire idea of wind energy sounded like the green and safe thing to do, but there were so many negatives too. Nate scrubbed a hand over his face. It made his blood boil. Who would clean up the mess twenty-five years later when they reached their useful life?
With his mind bursting, he veered away from the jetty and made for the back door of the teahouse. The food cooler would be waiting for him to carry to the boat. He’d momentarily forgotten about it. Guests on the forty-minute cruise enjoyed a cup of tea or coffee, including a selection of scones with jam and cream.
“Hi, Hannah. All ready?” Nate asked the closest server.
“Sure is, Nate. Lots of visitors milling around. Hope we put enough in.”
“Where’s Natasha?” Nate flicked a quick glimpse inside the kitchen.
“She’s trying to fit in that interview with the new girl before the lunchtime rush.”
“Oh, okay. I thought it was for later this afternoon.”
“Nope, it’s happening now.” Hannah smiled her dimples at him before turning back to the busy kitchen. “Sorry, gotta go. Can’t talk right now. Have fun out there today.”
“I will.” Hannah was a terrific worker and one young woman going places. They’d lose her one day. This job was a stepping stone for her as she studied part-time and played her guitar on weekends. With a gifted voice, sometimes she wowed the crowds on their boat cruises on the days they could afford to do without her in the kitchen. Didn’t happen often, but it should.
He picked up the esky, then headed towards the steps leading to where the boat was moored. Flat-bottomed and made of fibreglass, it wasn’t the first boat their family had launched on the lake. There were a progression of designs and sizes over the decades, with this current boat able to carry over one hundred guests. He crossed the gangplank, jostling the esky in its place. The popularity of their cruise around the lake never diminished, and he could thank the amazing natural wonder of this volcanic-formed lake. Mother nature at its best with an abundance of wildlife and bird species, surrounded by only the best tropical rainforest. How had they got so lucky?
He made his way back off the boat, smiling as visitors milled around the jetty. Hopefully, everyone read the sign advising that cruise tickets were to be purchased at the teahouse. With fifteen minutes left until the boat departed, all the usual preparations were done. Two cruises a day, one midmorning, one midafternoon, and a manic lunchtime rush, three o’clock raced towards them every single day at great speed. But his day didn’t end there. With a continual list of maintenance jobs to be done, he didn’t envisage ever having any downtime. He didn’t mind. Three years of wandering had staled by the end. He liked being busy, and he loved that visitors enjoyed their teahouse and boat cruise.
He loved his home.
With ten minutes left, the passengers began boarding with a welcome smile and a check of their tickets. Sophie from the teahouse would be along any minute to take control of serving the Devonshire teas. His phone vibrated in his shorts pocket as Sophie arrived. Taking his phone out, he signalled with his hand for Sophie to take over the boarding of passengers.
“What’s up, Tash?” Busy with their own chores, they often communicated by phone, even if the distance between them was barely fifty metres. It was easier than traipsing all over the property.
“I’ve finished interviewing, and I’m sending her down to get a taste of the boat cruise. She’s moving in and starting tomorrow. Give her a few minutes to get down there and do your usual welcome thing.”
“Okay, no worries. Hopefully, she’s a stayer.”
“She sounds keen. Anyway, gotta go. There are people everywhere here.”
Natasha ended the call before he had a chance to reply, which didn’t worry him. For now, they had guests in the teahouse and visitors boarding the cruise boat. Plenty of time to talk later.
“Thanks, Sophie.” He took her place again, waving her onto the boat to start the morning tea preparations. Chatting with visitors came naturally to him, and before long, he was asking questions about where they were from and putting them at ease. As calm and smooth as the boat cruise was, some guests still got queasy. He wanted to reassure them he was there to take care of them.
When all the passengers were boarded, he was just about to put the chain across the boarding deck when he spotted a figure coming down the steps from the office door at the back of the teahouse.
She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat with dark, bouncing curls falling over her shoulders. That’s right, the new staff person. He’d momentarily forgotten about the call from Tash, but no harm done. He hadn’t left yet.
The woman wore sensible joggers with neat thigh-length black shorts and a long-sleeved sun shirt the same colour as the water. She must’ve changed into something casual for the cruise. Nobody did a job interview dressed this casual.
Concentrating on the steps, she only looked up with a welcome smile when she arrived at Nate’s feet.
Nate’s hand froze around the chain he was holding. “You!” he spat.
It’d taken her an extra two seconds to make the connection. Her smile, which dazzled him for a second, was gone and she drew her lips together in a straight line.
“You’re not coming on board,” he hissed through his tightly clenched teeth. He was surprised he could speak at all.
Roberta squared her shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. It appeared she wasn’t stepping back. “Your sister employed me, thank you very much, and I am doing as I’ve been instructed to do. So, move aside and let me on.”
She was smart enough to keep her voice down; he was impressed, but oh boy, they were supposed to be sharing the small cottage? Over his dead body. He had no choice but to deal with this later with Tash. There was no way this woman was working a single day at their teahouse. She would get her free boat cruise today, and that would be the end of it. He’d make sure of it. Or die trying.
Without breaking the searing, all-consuming way she staked him out with her glare, he moved stiffly to the side to allow her to walk along the gangplank and onto the boat. The breath jammed in his throat, escaped via a hiss when their gazes cracked. Then he secured the chain and followed, his heart booming and his hands shaking from the experience.
A trip to hell sounded like a better option.