She gazed at Quinn in dreamy admiration. He even made eating a chocolate biscuit look sexy. Zoe had never been more impressed with anybody in her life. She sat beside him at the round teak table in the comfort of Leo’s living room, before pots of steaming coffee, and plates of Tim Tams. Through wide bay windows, the calm, turquoise waters of Turtle Reef stretched out to the horizon. Hard to believe that last week such a violent storm had ripped at the coast.
Sirens and explosions sounded from the lounge room. ‘Turn that racket down, Josh. We’re trying to talk out here.’ Quinn turned to Leo. ‘How’s Bridget?’
‘I’ve got her into the Brisbane Clinic, a top private psychiatric hospital,’ said Leo. ‘Like a five-star hotel with room-service shrinks. If they can’t help her for what they’re charging, nobody can.’
Quinn groaned. ‘You can’t fix every problem by throwing money at it.’
‘That’s how it usually works,’ said Leo. ‘But seriously, I’ll do anything to help my daughter – even go to family counselling, which is what the quacks seem to want.’ He grimaced. ‘Can’t believe I just said that. Anyway, Bridget’s doing okay. Apparently she studied as a chef, not a scientist while she was away. Worked in some high-end overseas restaurants.’
‘That was her dream as a kid,’ said Quinn softly. ‘But you put the kibosh on it.’
‘We all make mistakes,’ said Leo, in a surprising display of humility. ‘I’m very grateful to you and Zoe for your discretion in this matter, for allowing me to help Bridget privately. Now, maybe I can return the favour. You say you have a proposition for me? Something about the future of our little town?’
Zoe listened quietly as Quinn put forward the proposal they’d come up with together. ‘So that’s it,’ said Quinn at last. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘A partnership between Kiawa Business Council, the new eco-resort, and your Canegrowers’ Association?’
‘That’s right,’ said Quinn. ‘Promoting best-practice on farms, improving water quality and showcasing Turtle Reef National Park at the same time.’
‘Does this mean no more filthy fires?’ asked Leo.
Quinn made an open-handed gesture of resignation. ‘Seasons are changing, getting wetter and warmer. Three shockers in a row and the long-range forecast is for another one next year. We’ll have to move to green trash-blanketing round here anyway.’
Leo slapped him on the back. ‘I love it. The press will love it. The Bennetts will love it. Why don’t you get in on the action yourself, Quinn? Open up Swallowdale for cane farm tours, horse rides to the Hump, rainforest picnics . . . ’
‘Wouldn’t want to muscle in on your tourist dollar, Leo,’ laughed Quinn. He squeezed Zoe’s hand. ‘And I’ve got more important things planned for my time.’