21

Still Waters

IT WAS ALMOST DARK and the small dinghy was dragged sideways as Tony pulled at the oars. Jennifer watched for a few moments to see him scramble ashore and pull the little rubber boat high on the rocky beach. There was movement and for a moment as she strained in the fading light she was fearful a figure had lunged at him. But it was the wretched emu again, thrilled its new mate had returned. If this wasn’t so dangerous it would be funny.

She went below, pushing the items they needed into a canvas bag – the handheld GPS, compass, bottle of water, torch, extra clothing, bucket and a blanket. She left the lifeless sat phone but put Tony’s mobile in for when they got back in range. She dumped the bag next to the spare drum of fuel and looked around the comfortable small saloon, wishing she could stay here. The whole idea of taking a small boat to Headland was crazy. But as a firmer contraction hit her, she was reminded that they had little choice. She tightened the stays of her lifejacket.

‘Piss off, get away!’ hissed Tony, as the emu arched and craned, shoving its beaky head into his chest. There was no way he could creep down to the beach on the other side of the cay accompanied by this leggy companion. With a sudden flash of insight Tony stood on tiptoe and raised his arm straight above his head, his hand cupped like a beak, and waved it. Because he was taller than the emu, the creature crouched submissively, and as Tony made aggressive stabs it hunched away and watched him from a distance.

When he crested the hill he could see a flashlight moving along the beach. There were lights and activity on Kicking Back and it appeared all but two of the cartons had been loaded. There was only one man on the beach with the inflatable. Tony had to get to him before he went out to the cruiser. Tony’s foot slipped and a small rock rolled down the hillside, but the man on the beach took no notice. He carried one of the cartons to the boat. Tony stood at the edge of the beach, his back to the dark hill. The man, intent on what he was doing, didn’t look back. Tony began walking behind him, glad he had a black sweater on, holding the heavy metal torch at his side.

The man heaved the large carton into the boat and then spun around, his back still to Tony, who froze in his tracks. The emu had come over the hill from a different direction from Tony and was loping towards the man at the boat. He’d obviously had a run-in with the bird before as he flung his arms about, shouting at the emu.

‘Bugger off! Go on, git the hell . . .’ He didn’t finish the sentence as the torch slammed into the side of his head with Tony’s best forehand.

For an instant Tony and the emu gazed in shock at the man slumped on the sand. Then, adrenalin pumping, Tony stood on his toes and waved his arm above his head once more, this time adding the torch for extra height, and the emu slunk away.

Tony pushed the inflatable into the water and, looking anxiously at the big cruiser, leapt in, fumbling with the motors. The engines roared and the boat jumped forward. Tony steered towards the cruiser, then spun the wheel to one side and the boat swerved, heading across the shallows. Until the tide came in, Kicking Back wouldn’t be able to get back out to sea. He hoped it would take a few minutes for it to register with the men on board that the inflatable was heading away from them.

He’d cleared the channel, skimming over the breaking waves on the reef, when he heard the crack of a rifle. He hoped they didn’t have another power boat on board Kicking Back to chase him. Hopefully, they’d head out to sea and not think to go around the island to the cove, but they could get ashore and climb the hill and see Lloyd’s boat. In the confusion he just needed enough time to collect Jennifer.

They didn’t speak as she handed over the canvas bag and blanket and dragged the small fuel drum to the side as he held the boat. It was dark and she fumbled slightly, feeling sick to her stomach as she backed onto the transom and felt Tony’s arms help her into the inflatable.

‘My God, it’s open. Will we get there in this?’

‘It’s got big engines. We’ll shoot across the top of the waves. Sit in the centre in the middle, wrap that blanket over you, and the plastic tarp there, and hang on to that rope.’ He hit the starter motor, gunned the engines, and they shot out of the cove, leaving the silent white sloop bobbing in the dark sea.

In minutes the rain started. ‘It’ll act as a screen, be hard for them to spot us,’ he said.

‘What about radar?’

‘They won’t have the gear on a little boat.’

‘Will they catch up with us when they get across the reef?’

‘I’d say they’d be too busy heading in the other direction. They’d want to unload that cargo as arranged. Pass me the GPS and compass so I can set our course.’

Jennifer handed him the small devices that would guide them to Headland. As Tony adjusted direction, a wave sloshed into the boat.

‘That’s what the bucket is for,’ he said.

Jennifer didn’t answer as her breath was taken away by a spasm.

At first she kept glancing over her shoulder to reassure herself that Tony was still hunched by the engines, bulky in his lifejacket with a plastic rain cape thrown over his shoulders. Then she just hugged her knees, trying to find a comfortable position to help her get through the contractions. She tried to breathe steadily and deeply as Lizzie had shown her, thinking that each time the pain came it was just a wave to ride over, then she tried to relax in the space between them.

The rain was sheeting across them in gusts and downpours, blocking visibility across the water. Through it all Tony watched her, his heart aching for her, worried they’d not make it in time, praying that no mishap would befall them. He saw her body tense and shrink into itself every time she had a contraction, and he wished he could help her. Damn the sat battery not working.

When the engines ran dry, they wallowed in the troughs of waves, Jennifer gamely bailing out the water from the rain and sea. The rain came in lashing bursts, but the wind wasn’t as strong as on their trip over, for which they were grateful. This time they were in a much smaller boat, without protection.

The engines sputtered and Jennifer looked up in alarm.

‘The fuel is just running through. Bit of a clog in the line. It’ll be right.’ He reached over and caressed her cheek. The engines roared back to life, and Tony checked their position and sped into the waves again.

Jennifer was reminded of the surf boats she’d seen taking off from wave to wave, but this had been hours and her body was aching from the hard metal bottom of the boat banging down after each wave. At this rate the baby was going to be shaken out of her.

‘How much longer?’ she called.

‘Not sure. Hang in there. Not long.’

‘Are we going in the right direction?’ She had a nightmare thought of them going round in circles in the middle of the ocean.

‘You bet. Trust me.’

At one point, uncaring and tired, she felt like just lying back, giving herself up to whatever happened. But with the next jolt she sat up, feeling a hit of energy and adrenalin surge through her. Some preservation instinct, a desire to see her child safe, raced through her. This is what drives those mother turtles, she thought. If she fell overboard she’d start swimming for shore too.

Jennifer’s eyes were closed, her hand twisted around the rope, her body hunkered down, when Tony touched her shoulder. ‘Look.’

Through the streaming rain Jennifer could see a blur of lights. ‘Is it Headland?’

‘You bet. The main wharf. I’ll see if the mobile works.’ He dialled Isobel.

‘My God, darling! Where are you both? We’re all so worried.’

Tony kept it short. ‘We’re coming into the wharf soon. Can you meet us? She’s having the baby, Isobel.’

‘Oh God!’ Isobel gulped, then was instantly practical. ‘Lizzie and I will be waiting. Tell her to keep deep-breathing. It’ll be all right. Kisses.’

‘Isobel is meeting us. She sends kisses.’

Jennifer grunted and doubled over again.

‘What’s your mother’s number?’

He dialled as Jennifer gave him the numbers. ‘Hello, Christina, this is Tony Adams . . . yes, yes, we’re fine. We’re heading back into Headland. No, it’s not really silly at this time of night, Jen is in labour, we’re being met at the dock. She’s doing fine. Yes, goodbye.’

‘Is she in a flap?’

‘I didn’t give her time to chat. I have to call the coastguard.’

Tony was brief but to the point as he filled in his coastguard contact. ‘Well, they’ll get the police and customs on to it. Be a circus out there by daybreak.’

Jennifer didn’t answer, she was focused on the world inside her.

The tiny figure of Isobel was at the end of the wharf waving a torch, Lizzie had a blanket and was holding an umbrella over them both.

Tony helped Jennifer onto the broad steps, supporting her as her legs wobbled. ‘She’s still got her sea legs. She’s done brilliantly.’

‘Why are you in that bathtub and not the yacht?’ demanded Isobel.

‘It’s a long story. I’m dealing with it. Just take care of Jen.’

In Isobel’s car Lizzie took Jennifer’s pulse and temperature. Her hand rested on Jennifer’s belly as a contraction rippled over it.

‘Pretty intense. How far apart are they?’

‘I wasn’t timing them,’ gasped Jennifer.

‘Well, we’ll see how far you’re dilated when we get you home. You’ve done well.’

‘Will the baby be all right? It’s early,’ she asked worriedly.

‘Of course it will be,’ Lizzie assured her, exchanging a glance with Isobel, who’d been concerned. ‘As soon as I can check you both we’ll decide if you have to go to the hospital.’

‘I hope not. I thought I might be delivering at sea.’

Vi and Don arrived at Christina’s, both looking slightly thrown together and excited.

‘Come on, Tina, let’s go,’ said Don.

‘We’ve got plenty of time. Don’t rush me. I can’t step out the door in my nightgown,’ said Christina, who was wandering around, unable to locate her glasses, or clothes.

‘Luv, just throw anything on. We have to get up to the hospital. I’ve been so worried,’ said Vi.

‘They say first babies take ages,’ said Christina.

‘Well, if that nice Tony risked coming over in this storm it must be getting close,’ said Vi. ‘And it is early. I’m worried. If, God forbid, anything goes wrong, Jenny needs her family there.’

Christina glared at her. ‘And what makes you think anything is going to go wrong?’ she asked coldly.

Don could see behind the imperious voice that his sister was scared.

‘It is early, you know. But she’s in good hands now, everything will be fine. It mightn’t even come tonight,’ he said.

‘Now, what do you want to wear, Tina? Let me help you,’ Vi threw a look at Don.

‘You don’t have to treat me like a child, Vi. I can manage, thank you.’

‘I’d hate to miss it all,’ said Vi.

‘Well, you’re not going to be in there, just in the waiting room,’ said Christina, making no effort to hurry.

Warm and dry, with Lizzie monitoring her and the baby’s heartbeat, Jennifer began to relax, despite the fierce determination of the infant within her to push into the world.

‘Where on earth are Mum and Vi?’ she panted, as Isobel wiped a cool facecloth over her forehead.

‘On their way. Lizzie has spoken to the doctor and he will stop by soon. You concentrate on helping your beautiful baby.’

Vi and Don hovered by the reception desk in the maternity wing as Christina marched through the hospital looking for a nurse she knew.

‘Don, this doesn’t seem right. I bet Jenny’s gone to Isobel’s house as she planned,’ said Vi.

‘Where’s that?’

‘Up the hill. I’ve been there once. I could find it again. Why don’t we just go?’

‘Wait till Tina comes back. She won’t like it if Jenny has done that. And she won’t like it if we leave her here.’

By the time the doctor arrived at Isobel’s Lizzie had delivered the baby with Isobel supporting Jennifer.

‘A girl! Bella, bella, I knew it was!’ cried Isobel, hugging Jennifer, who couldn’t believe the exquisite infant Lizzie placed at her breast.

‘A little light, but sound. Well done, ladies,’ commented the doctor, after examining the baby and Jennifer.

‘What are you going to call her?’ asked Lizzie, making a notation on her file.

Jennifer smiled at Isobel. ‘Why, Bella, of course.’

The doctor was leaving the big white bungalow as Don, Vi and Christina hurried up the steps to the verandah.

‘Ah, family. Hello, Mrs Campbell. Congratulations.’

‘You mean it’s here? It’s all over?’

‘Mother and child doing splendidly.’

‘So what did she have?’ squealed Vi.

‘A little girl. She was lucky she got back to dry land when she did. Good evening.’

Jennifer was sleeping as Isobel settled Christina, Vi and Don in the sitting room.

‘I’m making Lizzie a pot of coffee. Would you like some, or tea? Or champagne?’ asked Isobel.

‘Can’t we see the baby?’ asked Vi.

‘Of course. Jennifer is exhausted. More from the trip than the labour. I’ll bring Bella out so we don’t wake her.’

‘Bella? Bella? She’s not naming the child that!’ exclaimed Christina.

‘You mean like Isabella? I think it’s pretty,’ said Vi.

‘It means beautiful in Italian. I think it suits her. She’s beautiful,’ Isobel said over her shoulder.

She reappeared, holding a small bundle in a pink shawl, and Christina bit back tears. Part of her was angry at Isobel being there and holding her granddaughter before her, but, as Isobel placed Bella in Christina’s arms, she could only stare at the sleeping baby in wonder.

Vi cooed and touched the downy head, and Don couldn’t stop grinning.

‘Careful, Vi, don’t wake her up. Hmm, Jennifer did well,’ announced Christina.

‘She’s a jewel,’ said Isobel.

‘Can I have a hold?’ asked Vi as the phone rang.

‘That might be Blair. I’ve been trying to reach him.’ Isobel hurried away.

‘Shall we just run out the door and steal this precious little thing?’ laughed Vi. ‘Oh my, oh my.’ She planted a kiss on the baby’s cheek.

‘Now, Vi, be careful. Germs. Give her back to me.’ Christina took command. ‘The sooner we can get her and Jennifer back home, the sooner we can all look her over.’

‘Ooh, she’s going to be cuddled and cuddled,’ sighed Vi, wishing she’d had children and could luxuriate in being a grandmother.

‘Vi, we will not be spoiling this baby,’ said Christina firmly. ‘And I certainly hope Blair doesn’t go along with this Bella business.’

Isobel came back into the room. ‘That was Tony, he is very happy and relieved. Seems they had a bit of an adventure out there.’ Isobel decided not to spoil the moment with Tony’s news about what had happened.

When everyone had left, Isobel tiptoed into Jennifer’s room and looked down at the sleeping child in the carry cot next to the bed.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ Jennifer rolled over, leaning her head on the side of the bed.

‘She is, of course,’ said Isobel. ‘Your family were here. Your mama does not like the name Isabella.’

‘It’s Bella. She’ll have to get used to it,’ smiled Jennifer. ‘Did you speak to Blair?’

‘Not yet. Tony rang. He is very, very happy. And proud of you.’

‘Is there any news of Kicking Back? Have they caught them?’

‘He said they wouldn’t know for a few hours. He was very brave doing what he did.’

‘Was a bit drastic. I’ll have a story to tell Bella about the night she was born.’ Jennifer paused. ‘Isobel, it was strange. That trip over. I suppose I was hallucinating or out of it a bit, but I kept imagining I was in the water again . . . I kept seeing all these sea creatures, imagining Gideon’s fish was there in the boat with me, talking to me. Now what the hell does that mean?’ She laughed, but her eyes held questions.

‘Who am I to say? Perhaps at times, emotional times, we see things . . . that fish is Gideon, the wise old man. The grandpapa you wish for Bella. Your past is linked to the sea, and so is your future, Jenny. We shall talk about this more. Another time. You still have unanswered questions in your heart.’ She reached down as the baby stirred and whimpered and lifted her to Jennifer’s arms. ‘She is hungry.’

‘So am I. My last meal was the picnic on the boat . . . God, how long ago does that seem!’

Finally, scraping over the reef, the Kicking Back had made its rendezvous at sea with the rusting, stained old freighter. The transfer of the cartons in a rope sling had been swift if precarious. Gordon had been the one to make the perilous climb up the metal ladder to negotiate payment. Holding, Fanzio and Willsy watched anxiously.

The two crew, one with a sore head, held the cruiser in position as the two craft wallowed in the swell. Gordon appeared on the deck and gave a thumbs-up.

‘Did you check the stuff? Make sure it’s pure,’ yelled Willsy.

The sling was lowered with large cartons wrapped in plastic.

Gordon climbed back down and jumped onto the deck. ‘It’s good stuff. No worries, mate,’ he mimicked Willsy.

The painter rope was disentangled from the oily freighter and the engines got under way. Kicking Back revved up and sped through the dark water the way it had come. The crew were told to remain on deck in the flying bridge. Even with the rush of wind and water they could hear the raised voices. Holding was shouting. Especially at Fanzio.

‘Listen, you’re in this! All the way. You can’t be half bloody pregnant,’ yelled Fanzio.

‘When we started in on this it was a straight sale of collectible species. Not bloody drug-running and money laundering,’ Holding said.

‘You weren’t knocking back your share of the profits. So you share the risks too.’

‘It’s too risky. I want my money and out. No more.’

Fanzio stepped away. ‘Gordon, get over here.’

‘He won’t talk, don’t worry,’ said Gordon in a low voice to Fanzio.

‘I’ll give him what cash we’ve got on board as a down-payment. We keep the stuff. But I don’t want him to know where it goes. We have to keep him quiet, frighten him a bit so he won’t talk,’ Fanzio said.

‘Get Willsy to rough him up,’ said Gordon.

‘No, too obvious. Where’s that poison stuff you got? Jab him with that. It knocked out that other bloke in the lab, didn’t it?’

‘Shit, we don’t know how strong it is. thought it’d be worth experimenting with it on animals as a knock-out drug. Untraceable too, as no one knows what it is. Rudi conked out just breathing fumes of it.’

‘So, experiment. Shut the bastard up. He’s running shit-scared. We don’t need this right now.’

‘What’s happening?’ Willsy joined them. ‘I don’t trust Holding. Is this an act he’s bunging on, or is he for real? If he doesn’t get his share he’ll talk to someone, believe me.’

‘Pour drinks, keep him quiet and occupied. Gordon will handle it, won’t you?’

The young man shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’

Holding sat cradling his drink, watching Willsy and Fanzio as they opened a box and unwrapped a small parcel of white powder wrapped in thick plastic. Willsy tipped a scoop of the powder into a metal dish over the small flame of a gas bottle.

‘Just testing the strength. This will cut down real nice.’

As Holding watched intently, Gordon sat at the table next to him. Holding didn’t see the syringe in Gordon’s hand until it was too late.

His Scotch went flying as he leapt up, rubbing his arm. ‘What the fuck! You’re not injecting me with that stuff . . .’ His eyes rolled as a wave of nausea hit him and his knees went.

Gordon caught him and laid him on the seat bench. ‘Out like a light.’

‘For how long? What’s in that thing?’ asked Willsy.

‘Damned if I know. When I heard what happened to that guy at the research station I figured it might be useful,’ grinned Gordon. ‘So what’s the plan now? What do we tell the boys upstairs?’

‘Those pricks on Cookshead must’ve come in by boat. They’ll be in Headland by now if they had any kind of navigation gear with them,’ said Fanzio. ‘We go back to Cookshead, find their boat, put the stuff in it, and you and Willsy take the boat to Branch. If they’ve notified the cops they’ll be looking for this boat. We’ll be clean.’

‘What about him?’ Willsy pointed at the slumped Holding.

‘Too much grog, sleeping it off. Or heart attack, or something. See how he goes.’

‘I’ll tell the boys,’ said Willsy.

‘You sure you can trust your blokes?’ asked Fanzio.

Willsy grinned. ‘This isn’t their first deal going down. They’re greedy. They’ll want more. They’re sweet.’

Tony hadn’t been to bed. His eyes were bloodshot and he was tired as he sat in the small office in the customs shed at the waterfront, listening to the crackling conversation between the patrol boat and the police search and rescue plane.

‘There’s only one boat in the vicinity they could have made a rendezvous with . . . a freighter. Got Chinese characters on her stern.’

‘That’d be the one,’ said Tony. ‘Where’s the cruiser Kicking Back?’

‘Making for Headland Bay or thereabouts by the look.’

‘Get a search warrant. She’ll have illegal cargo for sure.’

The customs official looked at Tony. ‘That’s not easy.’

Very early the next morning Tony rang Rosie and told her about the baby, and all that had happened. ‘Sorry to wake you but thought you’d like to know the whole story.’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Rosie when he’d finished. ‘What do I do if any of them lob back in here?’

‘Nothing. You know nothing. But I’d tell Patch to keep his head down. They know he’s been talking to me. And what he’s told me is crucial evidence now.’

When Kicking Back made it back to the Headland marina the ambulance Fanzio had called was waiting. Everyone assumed Holding had had a heart attack.

Then lawyers in suits appeared and Fanzio made outraged comments to the media about the ‘wild’ rumours and ‘illegal’ search of the company boat during which nothing untoward had been found.

As the weather cleared Tony caught the chopper over to Branch later that morning.

‘You look dreadful,’ said Rosie.

‘No sleep. I’m still chasing loose ends.’

‘Listen, grab a room and have a kip. When you’re ready we’ll have a meal. No one is going anywhere.’

‘I have to get Lloyd’s boat back. I just hope those bastards didn’t sink it.’

‘Later. Come on, I’ll get my new assistant manager to show you to an empty suite.’

Tony raised an eyebrow. ‘Blair has been replaced?’

‘Let’s say I think he’s going on to bigger things. Apparently he made a swift move to distance himself from the slick boys. He must have had a tip-off.’

‘Not me. Jen doing the right thing. She’ll always have a tie to him.’

When he woke up and pulled back the curtains, Tony saw a brilliant sunset. The storm had passed totally and the lingering clouds made a spectacular show. He showered, borrowed a staff shirt from Doyley and joined Rosie in the bar.

‘All my gear is on the boat. Well, here’s to Miss Bella. And Jen.’

Rosie clinked glasses. ‘Here’s to you for a mighty job. By the way, Lloyd’s boat is back. Willsy and Gordon sailed her.’

‘What? I thought they were on Kicking Back?’

‘Their story is they were sheltering from the storm at Cookshead. Their launch was stolen, they found the yacht and knew it belonged to Lloyd, so kindly sailed it back over.’

‘Oh shit. When did they get here?’ Tony leapt to his feet.

‘Hours ago. They’ve moored it round at Gideon’s. Why? What’s the drama? I thought it was decent of them to bring Lloyd’s boat back.’

‘I’m not sure, but it doesn’t sound kosher to me. I don’t trust that Willsy bloke.’

‘Willsy is here to unwind, he says. He and Gordon are taking a fishing charter out tomorrow. Business as usual.’

‘Where’s Patch?’

‘Up round his area, I’d say. What’s up? You haven’t finished your drink.’

Rosie stared in astonishment as Tony bolted from the terrace bar.

He couldn’t find Patch and a knot of fear began to tighten in his belly as he raced to the deserted research station. When he couldn’t find anyone, he cut through the pisonia trees to Gideon’s.

At the Shark Bar, neatly moored in the lagoon, was Lloyd’s sloop. On board nothing was out of place. Tony searched the boat, puzzling over the reason Willsy and Gordon had sailed it back. Obviously they didn’t want to be caught on Kicking Back, even though by the time the police launch had located it there was no illicit cargo on board. The poor birds and whatever else had probably been dumped overboard or transferred to the freighter.

Tony grabbed his shaving kit and a change of clothes and went back to the resort. He and Rosie had a quiet dinner and when they left the dining room they heard Willsy in the bar, laughing, surrounded by people, ordering more champagne. Gordon was nowhere to be seen. With Blair away he seemed to have no boss and went his own way.

‘I wish the gang were back here,’ said Tony. ‘I wish I could figure out what the hell went down over at Cookshead. I don’t want to push Patch but he has given me some damning evidence. Now if I use it, his life could be in danger.’

Tony couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed thinking back to this time the previous evening as he and Jennifer had made their dangerous trip back to Headland. What a trooper she’d been. When he thought how scared she’d been of the sea, even a little trip in the resort launch with Lloyd around the island from Gideon’s had been such a big deal for her. After last night nothing would daunt Jen.

He began to ponder his feelings for her. He’d been so vulnerable when they’d met, sworn off relationships and needing to heal his heart and psyche. But she’d slipped under his radar. It had been easy to develop their friendship, given the circumstances and the group of people and the fact she was married and off-limits. She was safe. But as her marriage to Blair had disintegrated, their lives and careers had become interwoven, and now they had reached a different plateau.

He had played a small part in a significant moment in her life and he felt even more connected to her. But he was afraid to step forward, make any move or approach, for fear of damaging a friendship that had become precious to him. If this was as good as it got, that would be enough. He was not going to do anything to spoil the easy bond they shared.

Tony was dozing when he heard the tap on his window. He leapt up, pulling back the curtain, and recognised Patch. He slid open the glass door and brought him into the room, but didn’t turn on the light.

They spoke in low voices, the old man’s stutter worse with nerves.

‘Patch, you go and get Rosie. Tell her what you told me. She’ll know what to do.’

There was a cool edge to the night air. The moon hadn’t risen to its highest point and was obscured by trees. Tony cursed as he stumbled over a sleeping mutton bird.

He slowed as he reached Gideon’s compound. The goat was penned, everything looked in its place. Doyley was in charge of the goat, the garden and general maintenance while Gideon was away.

Tony stopped and looked at the sandy garden. Even in the poor light he could see the scuffed marks in the sand. He had the key from Rosie but he went to the shed where the shark mobile was neatly wrapped and covered. He stared at it in the light from the dim lightbulb, and saw one end of the cover had a loose tie. He pulled back the canvas and opened the small hatch. Inside the submersible were half a dozen large cartons.

He ripped open the top one and found it filled with plastic bags. He didn’t need to open it to know what it held. The white powder was unmistakeable. In exchange for the animals, payment came in this form, Tony surmised. He stepped back, trying to calculate, and gave up. Over a million dollars or more depending on the purity of the powder. How many shipments of innocent creatures had been sold for this? he wondered. There was probably a huge money-laundering scam involved as well.

Who would have thought of searching the premises of the grand old man of the island? Fishing charter be blowed. This was going out tomorrow and would be on the streets of Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, in days.

Back at the resort Tony called Bob in Headland, who agreed to pick him up in the chopper at first light. After a few more phone calls he had everything in place to implicate Willsy, Gordon and the slick boys. And he had a hell of a story to write for the paper.

After two days Jennifer couldn’t imagine her life without this small child beside her. Already she and Isobel agreed Bella was her own person, wilful, cute, dependent and kissable.

‘I want to take her back to the island right now. But I promised Mum . . .’

‘Jenny, she is still so tiny, you must keep in touch with the medical people, and you must get strong. Enjoy a couple of weeks’ bonding and being with your mother. Make it a healing time. She is a woman in great pain,’ said Isobel.

‘Yes. But I’m so glad Vi and Don are here as well,’ said Jennifer.

Later Jennifer realised how lucky she was those first few days alone with her baby to have Isobel calmly supportive in the background. When Bella refused to breastfeed, Isobel placed her on a pillow and gave Jennifer a small cocktail to relax her, sat and chatted and, before any of them knew it, Bella’s rosebud mouth was clamped firmly on her nipple and Jennifer’s let-down reflex allowed her milk to flow.

Christina seethed at being a ‘visitor’ to her daughter but Jennifer insisted she’d been advised not to upset her baby by moving straightaway.

When she did move to Christina’s unit, Jennifer was confident and secure. She and Bella had a pact.

Blair rang. He was flying back to Australia. Jennifer assumed it was for the baby till Tony came to make his first visit and filled her in on the news. He arrived with flowers and stood staring at Bella in Jennifer’s arms, deeply touched.

‘So? What do you think of her?’

‘She’s just perfect. I’m trying to imagine what she thought about our boat trip.’

‘I hope we can take her out sailing when she’s bigger, and it’s a calm and sunny day,’ laughed Jennifer.

‘She’ll be swimming, sailing and diving before she can walk probably.’ He grinned at her. ‘Can I take a photo of you both?’ After he’d taken several pictures, he sat beside the bed. ‘Are you ready for the latest developments?’

‘I saw the TV news, what on earth went on?’

‘It’s been a hectic week. Willsy and Gordon found Lloyd’s boat at Cookshead. Kicking Back cruised back to Headland to be met by customs, who found nothing on board. Seeming to do a good deed, Willsy and Gordon took Lloyd’s boat to Branch and unloaded the drugs at Gideon’s. Who’d search his place?’

‘But Patch, as usual, stuck his nose in,’ said Jennifer.

‘It’s starting to unravel. I gave the cops the transcripts of all my interviews with Patch.’ Tony paused and stroked Bella’s tiny, curved, shell-like hand. ‘He told me about Willsy and the girl,’ he said slowly.

Jennifer stared at him.

Tony went on in a steady voice. ‘He saw him attack the red-headed girl from the resort staff and she went to you and Blair. She stayed at your unit, and you got her out the next morning.’

‘Poor Rhonda. Oh my God, he saw that? Why didn’t he come forward?’

‘He was scared. Who’d believe him? And you seemed to have it under control. But it’s pretty damaging evidence against Willsy.’

‘Rhonda has been paid off so she won’t talk,’ said Jennifer.

‘She will if you and Patch go public. If we need to add that to the case.’

‘Well, I’ll speak up if I’m needed. I felt terrible about covering it up. I thought maybe it was best for Rhonda, but I hated to see Willsy get away with it.’ Jennifer remembered the arrogance of the TV personality. ‘Blair is pretty shattered. He’s taking the job in Switzerland. What was Gordon’s connection with all this?’

‘I don’t think Daddy knew what he was up to, until late in the piece when Gordon got involved on the ground here with Willsy. Gordon’s father has a private zoo and he wanted the wildlife. He was prepared to pay money and unwittingly became part of the network.’ Tony stood up. ‘Look, don’t fret about this. You have more important things to think about. We’ve done our bit.’

‘Well, you certainly have. We’ll have a tale to tell the gang when they come back, won’t we?’ She smiled at him.

‘Yep. That’s a few weeks off. You enjoy Bella. I’m going back home to do some writing. I’m on the email and the phone. I still have work to do.’

‘I’ll get back to mine when I go back to the island. Tony, I can’t thank you enough . . .’ Jennifer faltered.

‘Hey, what are friends for?’ He opened his arms and gestured towards Jennifer sitting up in bed with her baby sleeping contentedly in her arms. ‘This is worth everything.’ He leaned down, kissed her cheek and brushed his lips across the baby’s head. ‘Ciao, Bella. Say goodbye to Don and Vi, they’re good people.’ To his relief Christina had made herself absent, walking to the shops.

Three weeks passed and Jennifer was so grateful she had friends to break the obsessiveness of her mother. Vi and Don adored the baby, but they couldn’t help noting that, while Christina loved showing Bella off at the tennis club and around the local shops, her attention was constantly on Jennifer.

Outings, lunches and breaks away from Christina with Rosie and Beverly, Isobel, and Vi and Don, gave Jennifer great relief. She had Bella in a routine where they’d adjusted to each other, Jennifer fitting in with the baby’s sleeping and eating pattern. In between, she tackled her computer, emailing Mac pictures of Bella as well as her redrafted papers.

Sitting on the balcony of her mother’s unit while Don had a cigarette downwind, Jennifer told him, ‘I’m making arrangements to go back to the island. I have to attend some classes at uni eventually, but I’ll move back there. I was thinking of having the baby-naming on Branch. I want you and Vi there. What do you think?’

‘We’ve been looking forward to an island holiday. Bored with the caravan park. But I don’t know how your mum will take to the idea. She’s been talking about having a party at the RSL . . .’

‘No way, Don. All my friends will be back there.’

Don carefully stubbed out his cigarette, waving the smoke away from Bella. ‘You do what you think is best and what you want for your little girl. We’ll fit in, luv.’

Jennifer waited till the last possible moment to tell Christina of her plans, even though Rosie and Isobel had been working on them for two weeks.

Christina was not impressed. ‘I know Don and Vi want to go to that place for a holiday. It’s certainly not my cup of tea.’

‘Mum, there’ll be plenty of people over there. Carmel and Lloyd are back and engaged. The party is for them too. Please come over.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Christina, which meant she had no intention of considering the idea.

Jennifer was packed and, with her doctor’s consent, was moving back to the island. Bella was a placid baby, loved people, and was happy to be passed around to strangers like a parcel. Isobel and Gideon were featuring in the media – prompted by a great write-up from Tony as their film had been nominated for a prize in a world documentary festival. Isobel was using the publicity as a means to promote awareness of the dangers facing the Great Barrier Reef.

Rosie had a suite set aside for Vi and Don, who left on the cat for their holiday. Jennifer was taking the chopper over with the baby. Blair had promised to be there for the naming ceremony and, at present, the only unconfirmed participant was Christina.

As Jennifer carried her bags and boxes down to Isobel’s car, Christina watched sullenly. Bella was asleep in the carry cot. Jennifer came back and looked around the unit filled with cards, flowers and small toys.

‘Well, I guess that’s it. I’ve left the bassinet and some other gear. It’s great that’s here when we come back over.’

‘Oh, and how often will that be?’

‘Mum, we’ll visit every ten days. At least. Now come on, why don’t you come too? It’s not a big deal. You’ll like it once you’re there.’

‘I will never set foot on that place in the middle of nowhere. I have no love for the sea, Jennifer,’ she said pointedly.

‘Mum, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I want to have Bella’s naming ceremony over there.’

‘Tosh. Such new-age rubbish. I would like my granddaughter to have a proper christening. In a church. Before Vi and Don go back to Sydney.’

‘I guess we can do that too, if you insist. But the Minister who does the marriages is doing it. Rosie has everything arranged.’

Isobel quietly appeared in the doorway and edged into the room, not wanting to interrupt.

‘What if Blair doesn’t get back from Europe in time?’ said Christina in a rush, grasping at reasons to stall Jennifer.

‘Mum, that’s too bad then. Blair and I are separated. I want him to be involved in Bella’s life but we’re not going to run things to suit Blair. If he doesn’t get there that’s his loss.’

Christina caught sight of Isobel waiting in the background to take her daughter and granddaughter away. She spun around and pointed a finger at her. ‘This is all your doing. Ever since you came along Jennifer has been different! You’re brainwashing her.’

Jennifer laughed. ‘Mum, don’t be ridiculous!’

Isobel took a step forward and said calmly, ‘No, your mother is right. You have changed, Jenny. You’re not intimidated any more. You’re making a life for yourself, finding a passion and a career. You should be proud of her, Christina.’

‘I’ll decide what I think, thank you very much.’

‘Mum, you’re just worried about me, that’s all.’ And you’re jealous of Isobel, you poor, insecure woman. ‘Look, I’m going to be fine without Blair. Things are different than in your day.’

Isobel stepped closer, smiling, placating. ‘And look what a good job you did. You raised Jenny on your own.’

At this Christina exploded. ‘Because I had to! Her father was no good. He just abandoned us. After everything that had happened, he ran away and faked his death . . . and I’m the one who had to struggle on, pick up the pieces, and what credit do I get?’

‘Wait, wait, stop. What do you mean, Dad faked his death? He drowned, out fishing . . .’ Jennifer’s face was white and she took a step closer to her mother.

Christina backed away, her face frightened.

Jennifer swung to Isobel. ‘What’s she saying, Isobel? Make her tell me.’

Christina turned her back, her shoulders shaking.

It was obvious to Isobel that this shocking family secret was a revelation to Jennifer. ‘This is the moment to tell your daughter the truth, Christina. It will be better, for you and her, if you do. Jennifer loves you, no matter what,’ said Isobel gently.

Christina spun around, her eyes fiery. ‘What would you know about my daughter and me? What do you know about the pain and suffering, the struggle, I’ve had? All these years knowing . . .’

‘Knowing what, Mum?’ Jennifer’s voice was cold. She couldn’t forgive her mother for keeping from her this secret. ‘What happened to my father?’ she shouted.

Christina seemed to shrivel. She twisted her hands together. ‘He ran away. Staged the whole drowning thing. Pretended he’d gone fishing and disappeared.’

‘How do you know? Just because they never found his body’ Jennifer couldn’t bear to think he was out there, living somewhere she could have found him. ‘Where is be?’ she shouted.

‘I have no idea.’

‘Did he try to contact Jennifer?’ asked Isobel quietly.

‘After some years. After I’d been to hell and back trying to make ends meet. Feeling guilty that he’d killed himself. I lost a son, too, you know,’ she snapped at Isobel.

‘Mum, why didn’t you tell me?’ Jennifer was bewildered.

‘That he had done such a terrible thing? Been such a coward? All very well saying he was sorry and he wasn’t coming back, but tell her I’m all right and I’ll see her one day. What good is that?’

‘One day? When? Where did he go?’ cried Jennifer. ‘How come he let us suffer so much? How could he do it? Why? What did he say to you before he went? Did you have a fight? What?’ He was running away from you! Not me.

‘Don’t you dare blame me, Jennifer. How do you think I felt losing darling Teddy? It was your father’s fault. He should never have let you go on those rocks.’

‘Mum, how do you think he must have felt? He blamed himself too!’

‘So Christina, you had no support, no money and no life as long as he was out there somewhere. Did you know where he was? He didn’t tell you how to reach him?’ asked Isobel, incredulously. ‘Did he have any money?’

‘Of course not. I don’t care how he managed. We had a useless farm, he wasn’t much good at anything. He just made my life miserable, but was I going to go to the police? No. The shame of it. They wouldn’t find him and what was I going to do? Force him to come back and look after us? Make him love us?’ Christina shook her head. ‘No, it was better to think he was dead. To me, he was.’

‘But what about me, Mum? All the years I wanted a father, needed him. He’s Bella’s grandfather, for God’s sake!’

‘He doesn’t deserve to be.’ Tears streamed down Christina’s face. ‘I was the one who raised you, looked after you, made a home and a life for you. I tried so hard . . .’ She began weeping, her face in her hands.

Isobel signalled Jennifer to go to her. But for a moment Jennifer couldn’t move. Anger, hurt, frustration welled in her at the overwhelming knowledge her father was probably still alive. All the years they’d lost.

Isobel’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Jenny, think if it had been you. Remember back to how it was for your mother . . . maybe you would do things differently. But she did what she thought was best . . . for you.’

Jennifer held her mother and they both cried. Then Bella whimpered and Jennifer broke away to take her baby in her arms. She looked down at the small child with trembling mouth and trusting eyes. There would never be secrets between them. Silently she pledged always to be honest with her daughter.

‘I’m sorry, Jen-Jen,’ whispered Christina as she found a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. ‘You go now. I’ll be all right.’

Jennifer heard the edge of self-pity in her mother’s voice, it had always been there and always would be. I’m not staying, Mum. I will love you and share my daughter and my life with you. But I’m leading my life my way.

‘I’m going to the island, Mum. It’s your decision whether you come over or not. Whatever you decide, we won’t love you any less. You call me tomorrow and let me know.’ Jennifer fled.

Isobel pulled the car up at the wharf and they sat looking at the water and the activity as Jennifer fed the baby.

‘What are you going to do? About your father.’ asked Isobel quietly.

‘I don’t know. I’m in shock.’

‘It was a foolish, awful thing to do. But think of the pain he’s lived with all these years.’

Jennifer looked at Isobel. ‘Do you think so? Or did he move on, have another family and never wonder about me. That’s what’s so hurtful. Did he ever remember my birthday, wonder how I did at school, what became of me?’

‘I think if he did try to contact you early on Christina would have fobbed him off. She wanted you all to herself. She knew he was alive and perhaps that’s a reason she’s never thought of remarrying. It’s her way of paying him back. To punish him. He sounds a weak, soft kind of man. He wouldn’t have fought Christina,’ said Isobel.

‘He knows Mum would have poisoned me against him. She’s never made me feel proud of him, ever. But I remember good times. I loved him, Isobel. He was my father. And now I feel like hating him for this. I wish he was dead.’ The tears came again, splashing onto Bella’s soft hair. ‘He probably has another family and forgot Mum and me.’

‘In your heart you never forget your child. Come on, Bob is waiting to fly you back.’ Isobel started the car, her heart aching for Jennifer. At some stage Jennifer would need to address this issue. She might have half siblings, another family somewhere. A family who might not know this history. It was not fair to deny Bella the chance to know her paternal connections. Poor Jennifer. Poor Christina. For a moment Isobel felt guilty that it was she who’d inadvertently pushed Christina into spilling her secret. But she hoped that now it was out in the open Jennifer and Christina would come to a better understanding of each other. She was happy Jennifer had asked her always be close to them and able to help and watch over Jennifer and her beautiful Bella.