The Bay (33 page)

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Authors: Di Morrissey

BOOK: The Bay
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Eddie gasped as he followed, finding the water very cold. As he and Tina splashed, dived and swam in the clear pool he felt his whole body tingling. But he wasn't sure whether that was a reaction to the water or the tantalising glimpse of Tina's shapely body.

‘Garden of Eden stuff, eh?' Tina was close to him and as she threw her head back to look at the sky, Eddie leaned over and impetuously kissed her throat.

Her head lowered, their eyes met and almost in slow motion they reached for each other, limbs entwining, their mouths hungrily finding one another, drinking each other's lips, tongues, faces. Eddie's feet slipped and he slid below the surface, clinging to Tina who continued to kiss him as if he would give her breath, even underwater.

In moments they surfaced and drew apart, laughing, spluttering, shaking their heads, water flying from them in sparkles. Instantly they steadied themselves and reached for each other once more. Eddie's hands pulled her body to him, feeling her breasts crush against his chest. There was more than eagerness and physical chemistry in their impassioned embrace. There was a hunger, a haste, a breaking of some dam, as if each had been waiting a long time for this moment. But it was Eddie who pulled back first as they gasped for air.

‘The sky is spinning,' whispered Tina, her eyes closed.

Eddie nodded in agreement, trying to speak. But Tina put her fingertips over his mouth and pushed him against a rock where the water splashed lightly and continued to kiss his eyes, his ears, his nose, his cheeks.

Eddie felt like a baby being totally loved, smothered in affectionate gestures. He trustingly surrendered until he felt Tina's body press on top of his and his passion flared to an intense and overwhelming desire.

But as that point of no return approached he grasped her and lifted her off him, floundering for a moment as he found his feet in the pool.

‘No, Tina, hang on.'

‘I am.' She reached for him to draw him close.

‘No. Wait. God, this is so hard. No, I didn't mean that! What I mean is . . . let's get out and talk.'

She raised an eyebrow.

‘Tina, you are the most desirable, beautiful creature. This sounds so corny, but can we hold off for a minute. Man, I didn't expect this.' He hit the water with his hand.

Tina gave a low laugh. ‘Did you think I brought you up here to seduce you?'

‘I hope so,' laughed Eddie. Inside him swelled great waves of emotion he couldn't recall experiencing since he was a teenager. He smoothed Tina's hair. ‘Do you mind if we leave things like this just for a short time. I'm feeling . . . I can't explain. I don't want to spoil anything. This is so special. It's not a rebuff,' he said hastily.

Tina drew away and studied him for a minute, his wet hair flopping over his forehead, tiny droplets shining on his eyelashes, the burning depths of his eyes, the earnest, almost fearful set of his mouth. She looked down at his hands gripping hers. ‘This is bigger than we thought, isn't it?'

Eddie nodded, unable to speak, then shivered.

‘Let's get out,' she said quietly. ‘You're cold.'

He knew it was emotion rather than the temperature but he didn't argue, merely commenting, ‘Too bad we didn't bring a towel.'

Tina reached into her backpack and waved a towel at him. ‘We'll have to share.'

Eddie waded from the water. ‘Anything,' he said trying to get himself back on firm ground – emotionally as much as physically. ‘Do you always think of everything?' he asked as she rubbed herself with the towel.

‘I figured we might get wet feet,' she laughed. It was almost as if the moments of passion hadn't happened. Her easygoing nature and good humour came to the fore, easing the tension. Unselfconsciously she leaned over and began rubbing his chest and shoulders with the damp towel. He took her wrists and held them still, looking into her face.

‘Tina. Just now, pushing you away like that. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. Not my usual style at all.' He tried to grin, but his mouth trembled.

She tilted her head slightly and stared into his eyes, listening to him, to his very heartbeat. ‘I felt I was getting into deep water and . . .' He groped for words.

‘And?' she prompted.

‘And I don't want to mess this up. Not just rush at you – much as I want to. You're really important to me, Tina. I want to try to do things the right way. Whatever that is. Does it make any sense?'

She nodded and gave a small smile. ‘Oh, yes. Very much.'

‘That's good,' said Eddie with relief. ‘Because I don't know what the hell's going on.' He lightly and quickly kissed her nose and drew back. ‘Except I think you're the most important thing that has happened to me in a long, a very long, time.'

Beacon Bay, 1907

H
ANNAH PUT HER JOURNAL TO ONE SIDE AND CLIMBED
the narrow stairs to the rooftop lookout. She had heard Sven and Erik's excited shouts when they'd seen the whale catcher returning to the jetty at Mighty Beach. The boys had rushed down the track to Tiny Beach, planning to go round the Point to the main beach and see the whale landed. Hannah could tell from the sluggish churn through the sea that the whaler was bringing in another humpback. Lars would be pleased. The station had exceeded its minimum quota already, so this season there would be a good bonus for everyone.

She ran her hands around the freshly painted white railing. She would dearly like some extra money to do more to the house, or take a trip down to Sydney to see her parents, but Lars told her he had a plan for the future. He had not elaborated and Hannah wrote of her concerns in her diary:

I fear Lars has finally decided to return to his homeland in the near future. For me, this country is my home and I cannot contemplate the idea of going so far to a place which seems so bleak. I have yet to tell Lars of my feelings; feelings that have become so much more complicated now that I know most certainly that I have begun a new babe. Unlike the two boys, this child has made me most unwell on many days. Until the situation is more comfortable I will not tell him about the baby and my concerns.

Hannah knew there would be a buzz of activity at the jetty as the townsfolk gathered to watch the whale landed. If it were a big one, young men would pose for photographs standing in the gape of its mouth with its strange hairy plates of baleen that strained its food. Sven, now aged twelve, and Erik at ten lorded it over the other boys as their father, being manager of the whaling station, gave them extra privileges.

Lars rarely went to sea these days, which pleased Hannah, although her husband confessed that he missed the excitement of the hunt. Bay whaling meant the men did most of their hunting within sight of the township and spent their nights ashore. Among the veteran whalers there was great nostalgia for the more exotic life in distant oceans. They told stories that younger men new to the industry envied, stories of wild and dangerous days.

Life had become more settled, The Bay was now an established port on the route between Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne. There was much more opportunity since the farming co-operative had been established. And word was out about the good climate, the rich soil, the spoils of the hinterland there for the taking if a man and wife were prepared to work hard and put up with some privations.

Hannah felt well settled. She loved her house atop the hill with its magnificent views. The boys were doing well at school, Lars was respected in the community. Now that he was part owner of the whaling station he had to spend more time and energy on the planning and administration of the company. In return, he had been rewarded with shares in the company. He had installed the Kavanba cookers to more efficiently reduce the blubber to tallow used to make candles, and set up a large new storage tank. He also persuaded a Sydney businessman looking for opportunities on the north coast to lease part of the whaling station and establish a meatworks.

In another entry in her diary a little later, Hannah had written:

We have become quite prosperous, and like many have settled into the district as the wilderness around is tamed. The timber men have come here and are working for wages. Tradesmen and the merchants all own tracts of land. In fact, land ownership is a defining stamp in this country and it draws many men to our area. I am most content now that we own Richmond House. The children are well provided for, no matter what path they choose to follow after school.

I suppose it is understandable that Lars wishes to return to his homeland and show what a success he has become, and to introduce our fine boys to his family. Sven has expressed interest in his father's heritage, which may have sparked this plan of Lars'. I have now explained to my dear husband that with the arrival in seven months of a new child – how I wish for a daughter – Doctor Mark has counselled against a long voyage. Also, winter in Norway would not be good for my health, which is not as robust as it once was. Given it has been ten years with no blessed event and I had quite given up, Lars agrees it best I remain here. I will rely on the household help and Peter from the station will look in on me each day and help with any heavy chores.

Lars believes the whales are dwindling in number and he has taken up other ventures. For the next few seasons he is sending ships back to sea for he knows the whales' route from the Antarctic and believes he can make the required barrels of oil back at sea. The boys are disappointed this voyage to Norway will not be part of a whale hunt. How they treasure their scrimshaw souvenirs Lars gave them. In my heart I hope my sons do not choose a life at sea.

Eddie gazed out to sea from the old lighthouse keeper's office where he was sorting through a fresh box of Nilsen family diaries, logbooks and letters.

Tina had the day off and Jeff, the other park ranger, knew Eddie was researching in the archives. Eddie was glad Tina was away. He'd only seen her for coffee since their swim in the rock pool. He was still very confused about how to handle the next step in their relationship, so he'd decided to bury himself in his research. The more he read, the more intrigued he became with the heart and soul of this brave woman, Hannah Nilsen. She was representative of that period – a pioneer in the area even in the 1900s. Hannah shared so much with her diary that Eddie now felt he understood her better than he did his own family. He wondered if she had shared as much with her husband.

Women, he decided, were better at expressing these things. He was recognising this as his days were so involved with women in The Bay. Other than Mitchell and Stolle, he didn't have good men friends up here. And he certainly didn't share anything very personal with either of them. The thought struck him, why not? Why didn't men share things the way women did? Stolle and Mitchell would probably open up and talk; they just had to give each other permission or opportunity to do so. Eddie felt that he needed to talk to another man about his confused feelings for Tina. This confusion increased whenever he thought about his relationship with Alice and, worse, when the formidable image of Laura came to mind.

He'd learned a lot about his relationship with his daughter from talks with Mac, Kimberley, Amber and Bonnie. They taught him about the delicate dance of father and daughter, male and female, youth and maturity. He'd often tried to talk with Laura about raising Alice but she'd refused to discuss anything other than superficial practicalities, such as school, budget, possessions and activities.

‘I'm talking heart stuff, Laura. Communication, morals and values, being a good and decent citizen, loving oneself and others.'

‘Come on, get real. She's a child. She's only interested in clothes, CDs, friends. Stop laying a whole Bay trip on her,' she laughed.

‘I'm serious. At least I'm trying to get her to think about more than shallow materialistic things.'

‘Eddie, she's not interested in anything deep – that's your trip. Let her be a kid and have fun. Like she does when she comes up to the Coast to stay with Jack and me.'

‘I don't think our definition of fun matches,' he said quietly. ‘And frankly, if you're going to let her watch videos, don't let her watch R-rated ones. She told me about seeing
Drive-In
. She had nightmares for a week.'

‘God, Eddie, you're becoming a prude. She knows about sex and violence. And it's a good thing she does, naive young girls are easy targets. Mind you, some of the young teenage girls in The Bay are sleeping around with older men tourists for money. Some even get set up in a flat for a couple of months.'

Eddie had changed the subject. He and Laura were now so far apart in their thinking he was shocked they'd ever had anything in common. How could his judgement have been so flawed? That is what made him nervous about his burgeoning relationship with Tina. He wanted to be sure, to do the right thing and go slowly. He couldn't bear the idea of spoiling something he sensed was very special and important to him, and her.

A week after Andrew returned to Sydney from The Bay he had a farewell lunch with the General at East Circular Quay. The General was flying to Los Angeles that night, then on to Las Vegas. Both men were buoyant.

‘A splendid place for a meal, Andrew,' enthused the Thai man, taking in the panorama of the Harbour Bridge and the city skyline. ‘A nice way to wrap up a very successful trip.'

Andrew was pleased. This new link with the General made him feel that he was at last getting into the big league of international movers and shakers. He was now more than just a smart architect with a fine sense of what the moneyed market wanted in hotels, resorts and houses. Players like the General were right into snapping up the enormous opportunities associated with ‘globalisation'.

‘It's more than just a game for big corporations,' the General had told him over the entree of fresh oysters. ‘It's a game in which individuals can achieve power and money that will make some of the empire builders of history look like . . .' He paused, seeking just the right word in English.

‘Like players in a junior league. Amateurs,' suggested Andrew.

‘Exactly. Small time.'

‘There weren't many rules back then,' Andrew said. ‘Bit different now, though.'

The General savoured the last oyster on his plate before picking up on the remark. ‘Perhaps the rules will actually make it easier to build empires. Think about it. Referees might blow the whistle from time to time when someone oversteps the mark too much, but the game will go on. The bold and the brave will still be there reaping the rewards. And speaking of rewards, Andrew, you will be hearing from me soon.' He raised his glass.

Andrew reciprocated and there was a fine crystal tinkling which pleased them both.

That night Andrew had a much more modest meal: a pizza dinner with the children at a small cafe on Spit Road. Later, at home, he called Letitia to let her know he had sent off the money-man in appropriate style, then he turned on the TV to watch the late news before going to bed.

He was surprised when the doorbell rang.

He switched on the porch light, opened the door and saw a tall, bulky man in a dark suit without a tie, a man in his forties, smiling at him.

‘Evening, Andrew. Late delivery.' He reached inside his coat and for a moment Andrew felt his knees go weak, half expecting the man to pull a gun. He seemed the type. His voice was unpleasantly nasal, a result of the flattened nose which appeared as if it had been broken many times. He looked very fit and strong. And intimidating. He handed over a bulky envelope.

‘What this?' Andrew recoiled slightly.

The man pushed it into his hand with two giant fists. ‘Compliments of the General. No paperwork necessary. You understand.'

‘The General,' echoed Andrew, feeling very uncomfortable and not sure what to say next.

‘There's a message from him inside. Goodnight.'

For a moment Andrew was stunned, then he impulsively ran after the stranger calling, ‘Just a moment, please.'

The man turned and walked back until they were only a few steps apart.

‘I just wanted to know your name,' said Andrew rather awkwardly.

‘Why?'

‘Well, we will probably meet again.'

There was no immediate response and Andrew was conscious that the man's eyes were staring into his, almost as if reading his mind.

‘Tony,' he said at last. ‘Tony. That's all you need to know.' Without any further comment he turned and walked to his car without looking back.

As Andrew shut and bolted the door he heard the car roar away in the quiet street. He put the envelope on the bar and poured himself a Scotch before opening it. Out fell several bundles of fifty-dollar bills. He picked one up and after a quick flick estimated there must be around twenty thousand dollars on the bar in front of him. A note was tucked under the rubber band on one of the packs. ‘The General thanks you for your consultancy work. He looks forward to continuing success.'

Andrew gave a low whistle, took a long draw on the glass of whisky, then slapped his thigh in delight. ‘Big league, here I come‚' he announced to the empty room. He carefully repacked the money and put the envelope in the small drawer of the bar with the corkscrews, wine caps and a silver champagne stopper.

Kimberley, Mac, Lynn, Holly and Nola sat at a sunny outdoor table at a cafe on the edge of Mighty Beach. Nola asked the waiter to adjust the umbrella to shade them as they studied the menu.

‘The sun is great,' said Kimberley. ‘I love this time of year. Crisp in the morning, cool at night, gorgeous during the day.'

‘Provided there's no wind. But the sun is still bad for the skin,' Nola said.

‘August is the windy month. I've given up on sun damage, I've learned to love my wrinkles,' declared Mac. ‘And I'm going to have whipped cream on my strawberry basil tart.'

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