The old-fashioned, wind-up alarm clock woke Zoe more effectively than her phone ever had. Great idea, no snooze button. Although why she’d set an alarm she didn’t know. Tuesday was her day off. She sat up, worked out how to turn off the twin jangling bells and checked the time. Six o’clock. A warm breeze lifted the blind at the open window. She could taste the sea and hear the tide going out, in the slapping rhythm of waves on the beach. Heaven. Maybe it was just as well she hadn’t been invited to last night’s party, with all that champagne on offer. Since coming to Kiawa she’d woken up every single morning with a clear head.
A soft knocking came at the door. Josh opened it a crack. ‘I’ve made toast.’
She rubbed sleep from her eyes. ‘Be there in a minute.’ The door closed. Zoe dragged herself out of bed and grabbed her clothes from where they lay higgledy-piggledy on the rattan chair.
She dressed quickly and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Hmm . . . her shorts seemed looser than usual. She hiked them up a few times without success. Was she losing weight? Habit told her to jump on the scales. It had been a depressing part of her daily routine in Sydney. But there weren’t any scales. There weren’t even any full-length mirrors – not here in the shack or back in her little cottage, or even in the guest bathroom of the main house at Swallowdale. Apparently people in Kiawa didn’t worry too much about how much they weighed or what they looked like. The irony was that most of them looked fantastic, with the kind of fit, natural grace that went hand in hand with sunny weather and an outdoor life.
Zoe headed to the kitchen, drawn by the cheerful sound of a whistling kettle, chuffed by the idea that soon she might actually have to buy a belt for her shorts. Rounding the corner, she stopped dead in the doorway. Josh was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tall man she didn’t know was lifting the large red kettle from the stove. He was older, fifty at a guess, wearing sharply creased trousers and a white business shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Not conventionally handsome, perhaps, mouth too wide and nose too thin. Still, with his penetrating blue eyes, thick, dark hair and an erect bearing he was most certainly a man of presence. And there was something oddly familiar about him. He smiled, his teeth perfect and white beneath a clipped brown moustache. ‘Coffee?’
‘And you are . . .?’
‘My apologies.’ He put down the kettle, strode towards her and extended an arm. ‘Mayor Leo Macalister, messenger boy, at your service. Welcome to Kiawa.’
Zoe’s intake of breath was audible as she shook his hand. Of course, he had Bridget’s eyes. ‘I’m Zoe King, from the Reef Centre. I hope you don’t mind . . .’
‘I know who you are.’ His grasp was firm and friendly, his gaze disturbingly direct, with a charming hint of the cynic about him. ‘Josh told me on his way out. He wanted me to give you this.’ Leo handed her a plate of burned vegemite toast.
‘Josh has gone out?’ asked Zoe. ‘That was sudden.’
‘Archie’s bringing in a new dolphin apparently, and Bridget charged me with giving Josh the message. She knows how devoted he is to those animals. And Quinn asked me to remind him about a doctor’s appointment in Bundaberg today.’ Leo pulled a face. ‘Josh didn’t seem too happy about it.’
‘Your daughter’s very good with Josh,’ said Zoe.
‘My daughter’s very good with everybody.’
Zoe nodded and forced a smile. For some reason his words rankled. Was she getting fed up with the Bridget Macalister cheer squad? She tried to push the thought away, but yesterday’s conversation with Karen crept back. Golden Girl is as flawed as the rest of us. She derived a degree of schadenfreude from the thought.
‘From what I hear, you’re a very talented researcher.’ Leo placed an unexpected hand on her shoulder before turning back to the kettle. Did his hand linger a fraction too long? Would she mind if it did? He was older, but still a very attractive man. Giving up on men didn’t preclude a little harmless flirting, surely? He poured two strong black coffees and sat down at the table. ‘Bridget’s been singing your praises. Says we’re lucky to have you.’
Zoe plonked herself down on a chair and wrapped her fingers around the mug in front of her. Gratitude and guilt tied her tongue in knots.
‘Here’s an idea,’ said Leo. ‘A few of us are heading out today for some fishing. Why not join us?’
Zoe wasn’t tempted. ‘Thank you, but no.’
A spark of challenge flared in Leo’s eyes. ‘Bridget tells me you don’t work Tuesdays – am I right?’
‘Yes.’ Zoe squirmed a little as she tried to explain. ‘But the truth is, I see fish more as friends than anything else. I don’t want to hurt them. And, in any case, I’d like to drop into work and check on that new dolphin myself.’
Leo sipped the black brew, his brow creased in thought. ‘So you’re a sentimental girl, like my Bridget.’ Zoe couldn’t tell whether he meant it as a criticism or compliment. ‘How about a sightseeing trip to the outer reef instead?’ he said. ‘Next Monday. I’ll square it with your boss and swing by here at nine o’clock, let you have a bit of a sleep-in.’
Typical of a Kiawan, thinking nine o’clock was a late start.
‘I’d love to,’ she said. ‘But I live at Swallowdale. I only stayed here last night because I couldn’t get a lift back.’
‘You mean nobody’s organised you a car yet? No? I’ll have one delivered out to Quinn’s today. But for the life of me, I don’t know why you don’t just stay here?’
Zoe wanted to jump at the invitation. Living at the shack would be perfect; close to work and far from the forbidden appeal of Quinn. But instead she bit her lip. ‘Thank you, I’m perfectly happy out at Swallowdale.’ It was obvious that Josh saw this place as his turf, and it might put his nose out of joint if she moved in. And then there was Bridget. She’d been dishonest about the condition of the shack. For some reason Bridget didn’t want her here and it wouldn’t do to piss off her boss. Still, Zoe couldn’t help being curious about Bridget’s motives.
‘Suit yourself.’ Leo pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘Well, I’m off.’ He fixed her with persuasive blue eyes. ‘Looking forward to that trip to the reef. Nothing I enjoy more than showing off Kiawa’s natural attractions to visitors, especially visitors as beautiful as you.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting.’ A slight flush of heat rose from her neck to her face and threatened to erupt in an embarrassing blush. It was a relief when Leo shut the door behind him. Zoe couldn’t deny there was a degree of mutual attraction, despite the age difference, despite her decision to swear off men – despite the fact that Leo was Bridget’s father. What would she think if Zoe hooked up with dear old dad? No, it was impossible. Better steer clear of the men in Bridget’s life, although an innocent trip out to the reef couldn’t hurt. Zoe waited until she was sure Leo had gone, then hurried out into the bright morning and down the steep stone steps to the centre below.
Josh and Archie carried the canvas hammock from the boat to where Karen waited on the pier. The dolphin lay motionless in its stretcher, eyes shut. They gently loaded it onto the golf cart, and Bridget and Josh jumped in beside it. Zoe hung onto the back and willed the cart to hurry as it trundled towards the hospital compound. Just a few days ago, this animal, a juvenile bottlenose by the look of it, had been roaming the wide blue ocean with others of its kind. Now it lay deathly still and terrified in an alien world, literally out of its element. ‘What happened?’
‘Found beached, apparently,’ said Bridget.
‘It’s so quiet.’
‘They’re nearly all like that when they first come in,’ said Bridget. ‘For one thing, they’re sick and exhausted. And for another, they’re helpless out of water. Dolphins’ main defences against attack are escape or ramming, and they can’t do either. No wonder shock sets in so easily.’ Karen took the corner at what was top speed for the golf buggy. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Bridget with a reassuring smile. ‘George is ready and waiting.’
‘What have we got here?’ asked the vet. With Josh’s help he weighed the dolphin and got it safely onto the examination bench in the clinic. ‘A young adult male, severely underweight. No obvious external injuries.’ He peered at its red, angry-looking back and the bleeding cuts from where it had scraped against the tailgate of the cart. Zoe winced to see the fresh injuries. She’d discovered to her shame how delicate dolphin skin was when she accidentally drew blood from Baby with a sharp fingernail.
‘Sunburn.’ The vet lifted one eyelid with his finger, and then the other. ‘They’re clear.’ He treated the wounds on the skin topically, then prised open the dolphin’s mouth. The animal opened his eyes wide, but allowed the examination. ‘Ah, see this? A fish hook lodged in his jaw. Looks like he tried to steal an easy meal.’ George worked the vicious barb free. ‘It’s about time the fishing industry used hooks that corrode away. It would save a lot of lives.’ The vet pulled out a stethoscope and began a full medical exam.
Josh brought over a pen, a notebook and a bucket of water. Bridget poured some over the dolphin’s back and produced a tape measure. ‘Hold the end of this, will you, Zoe? And record the numbers.’ Zoe dutifully did as she was asked. Distance from tip to tail, eye to blowhole, circumference of waist and rostrum.
The vet drew blood from a vein in the animal’s tail fluke. ‘I’ll test for morbillivirus. There’ve been a few outbreaks this year.’ He administered a hefty injection.
‘What’s that?’ asked Zoe.
‘A giant dose of vitamins and long-lasting antibiotics,’ he said. ‘Even healthy dolphins sicken easily in captivity. They arrive with no immunity to human pathogens. Simple pneumonia, for instance, can kill them in no time.’
Once the newcomer was treated and measured they lowered him into the quarantine pool. Josh and Bridget hopped in too, supporting the dolphin for a few minutes until, to everybody’s relief, he began to swim by himself. He blundered around the small tank, confused and disoriented, scraping his sides and banging his rostrum until it bled. George jumped in and administered a second injection. ‘A mild sedative.’
The young animal’s obvious distress was very confronting. For the first time Zoe considered what captivity really meant for a wild dolphin, one that had known only the boundless freedom of the open ocean. Hemmed in on all sides, sonar signals ricocheting off the walls in what must be an assault on its senses, a cacophony of sound or something like it. Add in exhaustion, prolonged time out of the water and loss of its companions – no wonder so many rescued dolphins subsequently died.
The sedative was doing its work and the dolphin became calm again. It floated at the surface, blowhole rhythmically opening and closing in a way that was almost hypnotic. ‘I think he’ll be fine now,’ said George.
‘Thank goodness,’ said Karen. She knelt down and stroked the animal’s back. ‘I’m always worried you’ll overdo the dose, George.’
‘So am I,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit of a gamble. Sedatives and dolphins are a dangerous mix.’
‘Why?’ asked Josh.
‘Dolphins aren’t like us,’ said George. ‘They must remember to take each breath.’
‘It’s bizarre but true,’ said Zoe. ‘Dolphins are conscious breathers. Scientists discovered it when they anaesthetised some dolphins to attach electrodes to their brains. Some sort of neuroanatomy trial. As soon as the dolphins fell unconscious they stopped breathing and died.’
‘What a cruel experiment,’ said Bridget. ‘How could they do that?’
Zoe shot her a sharp look. It almost sounded like Bridget hadn’t heard the story before. But that was impossible. Any undergraduate student of zoology would know of the infamous experiments conducted by neuroscientist Dr John Lilly in the sixties. It was basic Marine Mammals 101 stuff.
George packed up his bag. ‘Call me if you need me.’
Bridget got out of the water. ‘Josh, he needs to rest.’ The boy didn’t move. ‘Don’t worry.’ Bridget’s tone turned low and coaxing. ‘The dolphin will be fine. If you come out now, I’ll let you name him.’
Josh climbed reluctantly from the tank. ‘I don’t know what to call him yet,’ he said. ‘I have to get to know him first.’
‘Of course you do,’ said Bridget. ‘We’ll give him a number then, until you decide. He can be twenty-two.’
‘Is he going to be all right?’ asked Josh.
‘We’ll know more when the blood results come back,’ said Bridget. ‘He’s very thin, though. I don’t think he’ll be going back in the bay any time soon.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Zoe.
‘It is,’ agreed Bridget. ‘But think of it this way – if we weren’t here he wouldn’t have a hope. He’s a very lucky dolphin.’
‘Of course,’ said Zoe. To think she’d be part of rehabilitating a dolphin from day one right through to release. It was an exciting prospect.
Karen cleaned the equipment while Bridget collected her notes and favoured Zoe with her most dazzling smile. ‘Did you get home all right yesterday?’ Fortunately she didn’t wait for an answer. ‘The party at Dad’s was wonderful. Quinn and I danced the night away.’ Zoe glanced across at Josh. Would he tell? She did not want her boss to know she’d stayed at the shack overnight, but wasn’t exactly sure why.
Bridget put a hand on Josh’s shoulder. ‘I’ll get someone to run you back to Swallowdale. Quinn says you have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.’ The boy groaned. ‘Would you like a lift back too, Zoe? I’m sure you don’t want to hang around the centre on your day off. Don’t know why you came down here in the first place.’
Zoe was tempted to stay and monitor the new arrival, but she also wanted to go home and have a shower. Her clothes felt unpleasant, sticky with perspiration. Then there was Leo’s promise of a car. Maybe it was already waiting for her back at Swallowdale? What a relief it would be to be able to come and go as she pleased. Explore the coast and hinterland, stay back late at work whenever she wanted, duck into town for Kiawa’s limited takeaway options instead of cooking. Marvellous.
Zoe stood up from where she’d been squatting by the tank. ‘Thanks. I’ll just check on my octopus before we go.’ She hurried to the seaquarium where she found Einstein so perfectly camouflaged beside a rock that it took a while to spot her. ‘See you tomorrow,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a training date.’
The others were waiting for her outside the clinic when she got back. Bridget had arranged for the maintenance man, Kevin, to drive her and Josh. It was silent in the car during the short trip home to Swallowdale, both of them lost in thought.