Silver Bay (39 page)

‘Ah, I’m real sorry, Kathleen, but this is important.’

‘What’s going on, Greg?’ I said. He was trying to stop himself smiling, like a schoolboy keeping a lid on some practical joke.

‘Got something to show you,’ he said to me, ignoring Mike. This was not unusual: since he had guessed we were an item, he had pretended Mike didn’t exist. He gazed at his feet, then at Kathleen. ‘Yosh – you still fixed?’

I glanced at her. She nodded.

‘Good. I got something to show you all. Good to see you back, Mr Gaines. I’ll be glad to crack open a couple of stubbies with you later.’ He tipped his cap and, with a definite swagger – even by Greg’s swaggering standards – headed back to his truck, swung it round in a spray of dirt and made for his lock-up.

‘He been on the amber fluid again?’ Nino stared after him.

Yoshi and Lance were exchanging a glance. They knew something, but it was obvious they weren’t going to let us in on it. ‘You know Greg,’ Kathleen said, shrugging. ‘Never fails to surprise us.’

Hannah was grinning widely, and my heart sank. I hoped it wasn’t another boat.

We didn’t have long to wait. Nino stayed up at the hotel with Hannah, but the rest of us strolled slowly down the sea path, enjoying the sun and watching, with mild surprise, the crowd swell outside Greg’s lock-up. There were reporters and photographers, I noticed, and wondered how it would feel to have the cameras trained on me. I had seen the films: would there be a scrum of journalists on the courtroom steps? Would I be hounded? I shivered, despite the warmth of the day, and tried to push the thought away.

‘Yoshi?’ I said, but she pretended not to hear me.

I had tried to get her to say something earlier but she had tapped her nose and Lance adopted a theatrically blank expression.

‘I hope Nino’s okay by himself,’ Kathleen fretted. ‘I don’t like leaving him.’

‘He’s probably enjoying five minutes’ peace,’ said Mike. ‘He might be a little tired.’

‘You think I should go back?’ she said.

‘Hannah will fetch us if there’s a problem.’ I nudged her. ‘He’s having the time of his life. Happy as Larry.’

‘He does look good, doesn’t he?’ she said, gazing up the coast road to the distant hotel. And then, awkwardly, ‘Daft old fool.’

Greg was standing in front of his lock-up, smoking a cigarette. He was gazing at the crowd, as if he was waiting to ensure that everyone was there. A couple of times he exchanged a muttered joke with one of the fishermen near him. His truck was no longer outside.

I tried and failed again to work out what this might be about. It was uncharacteristic behaviour, for sure.

Finally, he spat out his cigarette and ground it into the dirt with his heel. Then, he slid his key into the padlock and, with a grunt of effort, opened the two weather-beaten doors and flicked on the light. As we stared into the darkened interior, he whipped a tarpaulin off the back of his truck to reveal his prize: an enormous tiger shark, its eye still clear, its mouth slightly open in blank outrage, revealing angled, pointed teeth. There was an audible gasp. Even dead, immobile and trussed up on a winch, that creature was terrifying.

‘Went out fishing early this morning,’ he said to the reporters, patting its skin. ‘Just to the mouth of the bay, like. You can often get a good catch there. I thought I had a blue marlin at first – but look at the bugger I hauled in on my line! Dragged me round the cockpit like you wouldn’t believe. Tony, back it up!’ he called, to the man in the cab. As he stepped aside, the truck reversed out into the light. A few cameras clicked.

‘I’ve called you guys out because we’ve not had tigers this close before and I want to tell everyone in the bay to keep their kids out of the water. You can’t trust these monsters not to come in. You know the tiger shark’s a mean old bugger, and we’ve seen from the ruddy ghost nets that pretty well anything can get right in to shore.’

He slapped the shark appreciatively.

‘I brought it into the fish market and the guys there identified it and weighed it for me. I’m told it’s not the only one that’s been seen in our waters.’

The sight of that shark sent a chill down my spine. I kept thinking of Mike and Hannah in that dark, churning water, of the things he told me had bumped against his legs.

It’s possible he felt the same: he reached behind my back for my hand and squeezed it.

Yoshi stepped forward and began to reel off information to the reporters. ‘Tiger sharks,’ she said, ‘are known as the dustbins of the sea. This one may have been attracted into the bay by the ghost net and the sheer number of dead creatures attached to it. But that means there’s a good chance this big guy wasn’t alone, and others might be hanging around here for some considerable time. They feed on anything, fish, turtles, humans . . .’ She let that word dangle long enough for people to glance at each other nervously. ‘But don’t just ask me,’ she added. ‘The Department of Environment and Heritage will tell you that they’re not great creatures to have around.’

‘We need shark nets,’ said someone in the crowd. ‘They’ve got them at other beaches.’

‘How are you going to have shark nets in a bay full of dolphins?’ said Greg, sharply. ‘They trap whales too. There’ll be shark nets in this bay over my dead body.’

‘That’d be right.’ Someone laughed.

‘Sharks are smart,’ said Yoshi. ‘If we put them in the mouth of the bay they’ll just swim over or round them. If you check out the figures, shark-death rates stay around the same whether the beaches have nets or not.’

‘I reckon you’re making something out of nothing.’ I recognised one of the hoteliers. He wouldn’t be happy, I knew, about this sort of publicity just as the spring season was about to take off. ‘Everyone knows you’re more likely statistically to be hit by lightning than killed by a shark.’

‘You think this old fellow worried about statistics?’ Greg leant against the shark’s torpedo body. ‘He probably reckoned he had a one in a million chance of swallowing someone’s fishing line.’

The crowd laughed.

‘You want to watch out for the tigers, because they’ll come close to shore to follow the sea turtles,’ said Yoshi, earnestly. ‘And they’re persistent. They’re not like the great whites – they’ll keep coming back to chew up whatever they’ve taken a bite out of.’

The hotelier shook his head. Greg saw him and raised his voice. ‘Fine, Alf,’ he said. ‘You go swimming, then. I just thought it was my duty to let you guys know what’s out there.’

‘Shark attacks are on the increase,’ said Yoshi. ‘It’s a well-known fact. There are some possible solutions. We can maybe mark off safe swimming areas with buoys and nets. I’m sure the coastguard can fix that up. They just won’t be enormous.’

‘In the meantime, as I said,’ Greg had pulled his cap low over his eyes so that I couldn’t see them, ‘I’d advise you to keep your ankle-biters out of the water. We’ll alert the coastguard if we see any others in the bay, and the fishermen will do the same.’

There was a murmur of concern. Several people turned away, mobile phones at their ears, and others moved closer to the truck, wanting to touch the shark. I thought about Hannah and the conversation we had had about me getting her a boat. I didn’t think anyone would let their children take boats out around Silver Bay while there were sharks in the water. But telling her that after what I had promised wouldn’t be easy. While I was mulling this over, Kathleen stepped forward and stared at the dead creature in the back of the van. ‘Shark, eh?’ she said, frowning, her arms crossed across her chest.

‘You’d know,’ said Greg, as he hoisted it up on the winch so that the photographers could get a better picture.

‘Where did you say you—’

‘This, gentlemen,’ Greg said, gesturing towards her before Kathleen could continue, ‘is the world-famous Shark Lady of Silver Bay, Kathleen Whittier Mostyn. This lady here caught an even bigger shark some half a century ago. Biggest grey nurse shark ever caught in New South Wales, wasn’t it, Kathleen? How’s that for a story, eh?’

Kathleen stared silently at him. The bald malevolence in her eye would have been enough to send me scuttling for shelter. She knew she’d been set up, and she didn’t like it. But Greg rattled on regardless: ‘So, gentlemen, you see? Once again Silver Bay has a shark population. The wildlife people will be delighted, but I do want to warn our good citizens not to go swimming or windsurfing or, indeed, to take part in any kind of watersports without great caution while the threat of shark attack exists.’

The press gathered around Kathleen, their notepads and microphones in front of her. Several flashbulbs went off. Greg continued to pose beside his shark. After the horror of the ghost nets, the local newspapers had their second good front-page story in a fortnight, and you could hear the delight in their questions.

‘I forgot to add – this little beaut’s for sale, if anyone fancies him,’ he called. ‘He’s fresh as you like. Make a lovely bit of sushi.’

‘I thought you didn’t get sharks and dolphins in the same place,’ Mike said, as he and I strolled back to the hotel. The afternoon was clear and bright, the sea glinting benignly in the distance. I had had a couple of beers, and had eaten an unusually large amount. Half a mile ahead I could make out Hannah and Lara, performing some dance routine for Nino Gaines, and collapsing, giggling, on to the sand. Occasionally, on days like this, I could convince myself that the world I inhabited was a good one.

‘Sometimes I think the whole planet is topsy-turvy,’ I said, pushing my hair off my face and glancing up at him. I wanted to kiss him, then – I wanted to kiss him most of the time.

I must remember this, I told myself, and wished I could be like Mike’s little mobile telephone, stacked full of moments that I could replay with perfect clarity far, far into the future.

‘Don’t go,’ said Mike, that night. He was standing in the bathroom brushing his teeth, a towel wrapped round his waist, and I had walked in behind him to get a glass of water.

‘Go where?’ I said, sticking the glass under the tap. I had been thinking about the jobs I needed to do the following day. Stupid things I now had to think about, like making sure Hannah had enough school uniform to last several seasons, signing over power of attorney, sorting out a joint account for me and Kathleen. The solicitor had said I would be wise to get all personal matters in place before I talked to anyone, and the list of things that needed sorting out made my head spin.

‘Don’t do this. It’s madness. I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s madness.’ His reflection was staring at me from the mirror, and the rigidity of his naked back told me the tension I had thought I saw in his face that evening had not been imagined.

He had hardly spoken for several hours, although Greg had been so garrulous and the whalechasers so drunk it would have been hard for him to get a word in edgeways. I had thought Greg, doing his best to bait him, had prompted it. ‘No offence, mate,’ he would say, after each barb, and Mike would smile tightly at him. Only I saw the tic in his jaw. We could still hear them downstairs, although Nino, the true focus of the party, had long gone home to bed.

I sighed. ‘Mike, I don’t want to go through this now,’ I said. I wanted to enjoy the day for what it was, to savour it and go to bed in peace.

‘Nothing’s going to stop the development,’ he said, pausing to spit out toothpaste. ‘I know what Beaker’s like. They see big money in this, and when Dennis Beaker sees money, nothing stops him. It’s gone too far. And you’re about to ruin your own life, and Hannah’s, for no reason.’

‘What do you mean, no reason? Is mine and Hannah’s peace of mind worth nothing?’

‘But you’re fine,’ he said. There was toothpaste on his chin, but something told me he wouldn’t thank me for pointing it out. ‘You’re both fine. Maybe you can’t do everything you’d like to do – but, then, who can? Hannah’s safe and happy, surrounded by people she loves. You’re happy – the happiest I’ve ever seen you. This guy – Steven – is still alive and married with kids, which suggests that even he’s happy. No one’s going to recognise you, especially after all this time. We could be a couple, and stay here and . . . see how things go. Why risk all that for something you might not be able to pull off?’

‘Mike, we’ve been through this a million times. It’s our only hope for the whales. And I’m not talking about it now. Can’t we just go to bed?’

‘Why? Every time I mention it you say the same thing. What’s wrong with now?’

‘I’m tired.’

‘We’re all tired. It’s the human condition.’

‘Yes, well, I’m too tired to talk.’ I was irritated that he was speaking the truth. I didn’t want to talk about it: talking about it made me dwell on what I was about to do, and I was afraid that if someone challenged me too hard my resolve might vanish.

Downstairs Greg had broken into song. I could hear the others cheering him, Lance’s piercing whistle.

‘It’s not just you this affects.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ I snapped.

‘Hannah barely leaves your side. She was glued to you this evening.’

I glared at him. ‘I don’t need you to tell me anything about my daughter, thank you very much.’ My blood was up. I hated him for pointing that out. I hated him for seeing Hannah’s fear.

‘Well, someone’s got to talk to you. You haven’t even discussed it with Kathleen.’

‘I’ll talk to Kathleen when I’m ready.’

‘You don’t want to tell her because you know she’ll say the same as I have. Have you thought about what prison really means?’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Being locked up twenty-three hours a day? Being labelled a child-killer by other inmates? You think you could survive that?’

‘I’m not talking about this now,’ I said, starting to gather up my clothes.

‘If you can’t cope with me saying those words, how are you going to cope with it in court? From the police? From people who want to hurt you? You think they’ll care what really happened?’

‘Why are you doing this to me?’

‘Because I don’t think you’ve thought it through. I don’t think you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

‘I can look after myself.’

‘How do you know? You’ve never had to.’