Written in the Stars (16 page)

She could see that Charlize’s situation was not dissimilar to her own; both of them had been drawn to someone almost instinctively.
I wonder what it is about these New Zealand men
? she mused.
They seem able to sweep into someone’s life and turn it completely upside down
.

When Suzi finally went into dinner, Charlize and Lloyd were nowhere to be seen. She joined an elderly couple and enjoyed a comfortable evening listening to their stories of life on a sheep farm. It was only when she returned to her room that she realised that the old man was also a New Zealander. Maybe it was coincidence, but Suzi felt it was significant.

Charlize burst into the bedroom the following morning, and began throwing clothes into a suitcase. As she rushed about, she apologized for excluding Suzi the previous evening.

‘I can’t help it, Suzi, but I feel the need to be alone with Lloyd. I never thought I’d let a man get under my skin so completely as this,’ she said, deftly applying her makeup. ‘He seems to have reached the core of my being.’

‘So where do you go from here?’

‘Figuratively or physically?’ Charlize twisted the lipstick closed and tossed it back in the bag.

‘I mean right now… today.’

‘You’ll never guess. He’s going to meet me in Airlie Beach.’

‘The resort area on the Whitsunday Coast?’

‘Yes, when I told him that we only had two days left of our holiday, he asked if he could spend them with me.’ She grabbed her suitcase. ‘Come on, he’s waiting to drive us to the airport.’ Then she stopped. ‘You don’t mind do you?’

Suzi shook her head.

‘Don’t be silly. It’s great to see you so excited about a man… at last.’ She chuckled. Who knows, she thought, maybe at Airlie Beach I’ll find a handsome Kiwi who can sweep me off my feet in the same way. Then again, maybe one already has done that.

Chapter Twenty

Suzi smiled as she watched her friend clinging to Lloyd’s hand as they walked into the terminal at Cairns airport. Charlize was certainly enamoured with the tall New Zealander, and by now he appeared to be completely smitten with her. It really did look like love at first sight for them both. After he waved goodbye they watched him hurry away to his hired car for the long drive ahead of him.

It was late morning before the two women settled into their hotel at Airlie Beach and walked out onto the Esplanade to enjoy the view. Charlize had booked a room in the same complex for Lloyd and told the receptionist he should arrive in time for dinner.

He wheeled into the car park just before seven, in almost record time. Fifteen minutes after he parked the car he joined the two women in the beer garden. He bought a couple of beers from the bar and drained the first without taking a breath, then carried the other one back to the table.

‘Oh boy, I needed that. I’m as dry as a wooden chip.’ He grinned at Charlize. ‘Well, I’m here, but the whole trip was a nightmare. Mile after mile of potholes, dawdling cars, and road repairs everywhere.’ He chuckled. ‘But I didn’t see one cop, not one, and just as well, at the speed I was driving.’

‘Well you’re here now.’ Charlize echoed his words and laid her hand on his. ‘So we can all relax.’

‘What are you going to do tomorrow?’ Suzi asked looking from one to the other.

‘We’ll fit in with you.’ Lloyd replied quickly and Charlize nodded agreement.

‘Well, I’ve never been on a sailing boat before and it sounds more exciting than a launch trip to Hook Island.’

‘Oh, I thought you’d like to see the observatory.’ Charlize sounded a little piqued. ‘But if you’d rather go sailing that’s okay with us.’ As she spoke the barman came to collect the empty glasses. While he cleaned the table, he said something about the ‘Dolphin’ being good value for money, and then added, ‘You’ll be dead lucky if you can get on though; they’re usually fully booked most of the time.’

‘Let me check it out,’ Lloyd said, climbing to his feet. He returned five minutes later and handed a ticket to Suzi. ‘There you are, the very last one. The young lady at the desk said they were sold out, but I persuaded her to see what she could do and she came up trumps.’ He placed two more vouchers on the table. ‘There was no trouble getting tickets for the Hook Island observatory.’

Charlize looked at Suzi. ‘Is that all right with you? You don’t mind going on your own?’

‘Of course not, and for heaven’s sake stop asking me if it’s all right.’ Then she clasped her friend’s hand. ‘I’m happy for you. Enjoy what time you have together.’

They drove down to Shute Harbour the next morning and left the car in a parking space overlooking the wharf complex. Charlize waved as she and Lloyd boarded the motor launch.

‘See you back at the hotel for dinner,’ she called.

*

Steve had only driven about twenty kilometres up the highway before he stopped in a parking bay and pulled out the roadmap to recalculate how far it was to Kuranda.

‘I don’t know that I want to go that far,’ he muttered. The shimmering heat haze was becoming stronger by the minute and his eyes were already straining against the harsh northern sun. Maybe he needed stronger sunglasses. Maybe it was not such a good idea after all to listen to Tony Randall. He sighed noisily. Maybe he just needed to head south again and hope the weather was kinder below the Tropic of Capricorn.

Without making a conscious decision, he put the car into gear, did a U-turn and headed back the way he had come. A short while later he saw a man leaning against a road marker, with his thumb extended, hoping for a lift. Steve slowed down to have a look at him, decided the guy seemed fairly presentable, and pulled into the side of the road. The stocky man thanked him profusely, threw his pack into the back of the car and slid into the passenger seat.

‘Thanks mate,’ he said, wiping a film of sweat off his brow. ‘How far yer going?’

‘I’m not sure, yet,’ Steve replied. ‘I might go straight through to Brisbane, or I might stop off somewhere on the way. What about you?’

‘Anywhere away from this heat,’ the man, who introduced himself as Matt, said. ‘I don’t know how people put up with it. It gets hot back home, but nothing like this.’

Steve laughed at the man’s expression. ‘So you’re a backhomer too? Where are you from?

‘Timaru.’

‘Ah, a mainlander.’

The man laughed good-naturedly. ‘Well it’s got more going for it than the North Island so we’re entitled to call it the mainland. Besides there are more real New Zealanders down south than up north.’

The two men soon began reminiscing about their homeland. They both agreed that it was the best country by far, and they wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the world. The miles soon dropped behind them as they talked. An hour later Steve pulled into a garage to fill up with petrol, and as he climbed out of the car, Matt asked if he wanted anything from the shop.

‘No, I’m fine thanks,’ Steve replied, sticking the nozzle into the tank. When he returned to the car after paying the bill, Matt was licking an ice cream. ‘It’s a pity you bought that,’ he said, pointing to a hotel across the road, ‘I was going to suggest we have a beer over there.’

Matt glanced at the pub, opened the car door, and without a word, he dropped the cone into the gutter. Steve laughed aloud.

‘Ice cream and beer don’t really mix do they?’

It was mid-afternoon when they approached the small sugar mill town of Prosperine. As they waited for an empty cane tram to cross the road, Matt directed Steve’s attention to a billboard extolling the attractions of the area. The legend read: Airlie Beach gateway to the Whitsunday Passage. Underneath the message was a list of the major attractions in the area, and the tours that were available.

‘I might have a look at that place,’ Matt said. ‘Would you drop me at the turn-off, please?’

Steve glanced sideways at his companion. Although he had originally intended to visit some of the resorts on his way south, he had lost the urge to go sightseeing now. Maybe it was the oppressive heat, maybe it was because he could not rid his mind of Kirsty’s tragic death—or maybe he felt that everything was wearing him down. He really needed to be alone, to purge the remaining grief that still tugged at his heart—not to be caught up in a busy tourist scene. But something was pulling him towards the fork in the road.

‘Well, thanks again,’ Matt said, as Steve eased the car over to the side of the road. But as Matt went to open the door, Steve spoke.

‘No don’t get out just yet. I might as well take a look at the place while I’m in the area. Who knows… I might find something interesting to do.’ A little later, he dropped the fellow New Zealander off outside the camping ground at Cannonvale, and continued on to Airlie Beach where he booked into a motel. He sauntered down to the waterfront and walked along the sandy beach towards the marina. The sight of so many boats reminded him of Auckland, the City of Sails, and suddenly he felt homesick.

He was about to return to his motel when he saw a man tying up a powerboat. They passed the time of day and Steve mentioned that he had originally intended to go scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef.

‘There’s some good coral reefs near here,’ the man said. ‘I can take you out if you’re interested.’ He quoted Steve a price for the hire of the boat. ‘You make a choice, morning or afternoon, whatever you want.’

‘I’ll think about it, okay?’

Steve walked to the far end of the small village and then headed back to the motel. By the time he had listened to a throng of tourists arguing with their bus driver, and watched some drunken kids hurling empty beer cans into the creek, he wondered why on earth he had bothered to come to the place. He looked into the pub and decided it was too noisy, so he bought a couple of cans of beer to take back to his motel.

The manager arranged to send a meal to his room so that he could have it on the balcony overlooking the bay. The motel was far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the main part of town to allow Steve the peace and quiet he needed. He had just finished a can of beer, when a knock on the door announced his meal had arrived.

‘Put it on the table, please,’ he said, as the waitress entered the room. When he had finished, Steve pushed the plate away with a sense of satisfaction. The fresh barramundi fish had been cooked to perfection, the vegetables had been beautifully prepared, and the side salad crispy fresh. His only regret was that he had no one to share it with. And even as that thought crossed his mind he realised that there was no one special in his life now. Kirsty was dead, Suzi Lysle Spencer was half a world away, and Jenny was only a vague possibility, and one he did not particularly wish to encourage.

The connection between his thoughts and the physical world around him seemed to be highlighted by the changing scene below him. A feeling of sadness swept over him as the setting sun dropped below the mountain range behind the resort area and cast long shadows across the landscape. The scene remained unchanged for about ten to fifteen minutes, and then suddenly it went dark.

Shortly afterwards the first glimmer of moonlight touched the water. As the moon continued to ascend, its silvery beam formed a new vista, one that depicted the opposite aspects of setting before him. It was as if he were being given the opportunity to compare both the reverse and obverse side of things, and that he should not judge according to the light that shone, but rather on the substance that was being illuminated.

‘What am I trying to tell myself?’ Steve muttered, as another wave of melancholy engulfed him.

It was unusual for him to feel so despondent. Until recently his life had been fairly predictable, and rewarding, and he had looked forward to a prosperous future. Deep in his heart he knew that marriage to Kirsty was never really an option. She probably loved him, but not enough to deny her roots, and in one respect that saddened him, but on the other hand he was relieved. He had been prepared to accept the responsibility, but he was aware that it was a responsibility forged by sibling protectiveness rather than anything else. He knew deep down that it would never have worked.

He let his mind wander. Things might have turned out differently with Suzi, if he hadn’t been committed to Kirsty at the time. There was no denying the effect the pretty Welsh girl had on him. As he thought about her and relived their last night together, he was amazed at the depth of feeling it still produced in him. Her lovely face seemed to be reflected in the moonlit waves breaking gently on the sandy seashore.

Unwilling to be swamped by feelings of self-pity, Steve went indoors and snapped on the television. By the time he had watched a nature program, the news, and a comedy, his sense of purpose had returned and he went to bed in a happier mood. He was soon asleep, and woke up feeling refreshed and ready to enjoy the next day.

‘I’ll stay another night,’ he told the receptionist, when he came down for breakfast. ‘I’m going to do some scuba diving. The man Steve had been talking to the previous day could not take him out until the afternoon because of another booking. Rather than hang around the resort area he drove into Proserpine and introduced himself to the engineer at the sugar mill. He explained that his company, Vaxline, had currently installed some pumping equipment in another mill in the Townsville area, and outlined the advantages of their product over the existing plant.

‘We have a resident fitter in north Queensland,’ he said, when the engineer asked how they would address any related problems. ‘He’s worked for our company for about ten or twelve years. We would arrange for him to oversee the installation and check it over regularly.’

The man listened attentively and agreed to discuss it with the mill manager when he returned from a visit to Brisbane. Steve whistled a catchy tune as he left the premises. Vince would be happy to put Nick Bolte on a retainer, pay him to install the equipment, and to do any maintenance work. It would obviate sending someone over from New Zealand every time something went wrong. Steve knew that Nick would be the best man available to look after their interests and he would ensure that the work was done to their satisfaction. More importantly, it might provide the opportunity to open up new markets reasonably close to home, rather than look farther afield in the Asian countries.

Greg Chaplin, the boat owner, was waiting for him when he drove down to the marina after lunch. He led the way to a motorboat with two powerful Yamaha outboard motors on the back. When he saw Steve’s appraising look, he smiled.

‘We get out there quick and we come back quick,’ he said, clambering into the cockpit. ‘A sailing boat might appeal to your average tourist, but this baby will give you more time in the water.’

Steve slung his gear into the back and settled down beside Greg as he hit the starter button. The two engines roared into life. When they cleared the end of the marina, Greg pulled the throttles back and gave a thumbs-up sign as the boat surged forward. Within seconds they were skipping across the tops of the waves as the craft responded to the thrust of the propellers. When they cleared the nearest headland he pointed the boat towards a distant island. Forty-five minutes later they had reached the place where a natural reef ran out from the point of a nearby island.

As Steve slipped on the scuba gear, Greg cautioned him.