by Kate Genet
‘Hi,’ she whispered again, not quite sure what to say. What did you say to a little kid who’d just lost both her parents in the most awful way?
‘Where are we?’ Rose asked. ‘I want Pilot.’ She blinked, and a large, silent tear slid down her white cheek.
Claire reached out a gentle finger and brushed it away. The child wasn’t asking for her mother, she noticed. Maybe she realised there was no point. She smoothed back a restless red curl.
‘We can go home in the morning. Pilot will be waiting to see you.’
Rose looked at her and another tear slipped free. ‘I don’t want to go home.’ Her voice fell to a tiny whisper. ‘I don’t want to see Daddy.’
Claire felt her heart constrict. She forced herself to breathe. ‘I'm taking you home with me,’ she said. ‘We’re going to Grandma and Grandad’s.’ She took a breath. ‘You’re not going to see your Daddy anymore, sweetheart.’
The eyes were larger than ever. ‘Is he dead too?’ Now they looked away and the little hand crept from the blanket to touch the marks on her neck. ‘He hurt me,’ she whispered. She couldn’t talk above a hoarse whisper and the bruised voice hurt Claire with a physical pain.
‘He’s never going to hurt you again, Rose,’ she said. ‘I promise you that.’
It seemed to help. Rose touched Claire’s arm, spread her fingers out against the warm skin.
‘You want a cuddle?’ Claire asked.
Rose nodded, and Claire scooped her close, tucking an arm around her, feeling the little body relax and warm against hers, and she watched Rose’s big blue eyes stare up at her for a moment, then slip closed, the tension draining from the sweet little face as sleep caught back up with her.
Claire lay against the pillow, staring at the pale green wall opposite. She stared for a long while, listening to Rose breathe beside her, trying to relax as well, trying to let the day’s events drain away.
An hour later, she gave up. Moving quietly, she rearranged Rose on the pillow, tucking the blankets in around her and sliding from the bed to sit back in the chair, leaning forward, bare arms propped on her knees, head in her hands and staring at the pyjama pants her mother had brought to the hospital for her. For some reason they were purple with lime green sheep all over them. Gracie had shrugged apologetically when she’d handed them over. Claire didn’t own pyjamas.
But it wasn’t the neon sheep she was thinking about. Sitting up, she reached for the two sheets of paper she’d dried out earlier. They’d gone in the ocean with her, still tucked in her jacket pocket, but the paper was thick, and the ink had barely run. It was still completely legible.
She turned to the second page, eyes going straight to the paragraph in Zoe’s last will and testament that had shocked her so much when she’d first scanned through the document.
The will left everything to her husband. In the event of his death, everything went to Rose with Claire as trustee, but it wasn’t that which had surprised her either. Her own will named Zoe as the beneficiary of all her worldly goods. Which weren’t all that many.
Because she didn’t have a child.
But Zoe had Rose and Rose had a guardian into whose custody and care she was entrusted in case neither of her parents were able or available.
It said it all there in black and white. Zoe hadn’t mentioned it, perhaps taking it for granted, but Claire had never thought of it.
She let the pages fall into her lap and stared at the wall, not seeing it, still seeing the words that declared she was now the legal guardian of Rose Emily Fry.
81
Claire was bemused. ‘You want my autograph?’ she asked, trying to make sure she’d heard him right. Rose and the dog looked from one of them to the other.
Ari’s grin was as emphatic as his nod and Claire laughed, shaking her own. ‘You’ve surprised me. You must have some strange hobbies,’ she said.
Moana overheard them and threw an arm around her son. ‘Needs a girlfriend, don’t you boy?’ she said.
He groaned and rolled his eyes. ‘Mum, please!’
‘Fine. A boyfriend, then. I’d be happy either way.’
The kid was turning beet red and Moana laughed, swatting him away. ‘Go hit on someone your own age,’ she said. ‘Or failing that, check that your father is cranking up the grill like he promised. People are getting hungry.’
Ari recovered enough to grin at Rose, taking her hand and ducking away with her, the dog keeping close to their heels. Then Moana was linking an arm through hers and leading her away.
‘Got time for a quick catch up before I drink too much?’ Moana asked.
‘Sure,’ Claire agreed, watching Rose.
‘Don’t worry about her,’ Moana said. ‘Ari loves her, always has. And Sunshine’s going to take a shine to her to rival the sun and the moon.’
‘It was okay to bring the dog too? Rose won’t go anywhere without him.’
‘Are you kidding? That dog is better behaved than most of the people here.’ They made for the living room, ignoring the sounds of laughter coming from the Moana’s backyard.
‘Sunshine is…’
‘My ex-husband’s boyfriend, now fiancé, you’re right. I call him Sunshine because he’s the brightest, shiniest bit of sweetheart I’ve met. And yes, most people would think it’s strange for me to be throwing them an engagement party, but I'm not most people.’
‘I wasn’t going to criticise,’ Claire said.
Moana gave her arm a squeeze. ‘Good, because I’d hate to have to re-evaluate you and put you in the she’s a bit uptight after all box.’
That made Claire laugh. ‘I'm not sure exactly what I am these days.’
The look Moana gave her was too astute. ‘Have you decided what you’re going to do yet?’
‘It’s only been a few days!’
‘True,’ Moana said, letting go of her arm to push the living room door open. ‘It can take a lot longer than that sometimes to admit things to ourselves.’ She gave Claire an exaggeratedly innocent look then stalked into the room swishing her hips.
Sighing, Claire followed her. They’d spoken often in the few days since chasing Danny Fry all over the city. She’d come to appreciate Moana’s dry wit and intelligence, but now she knew why people always found her own directness disconcerting.
‘Come on, Claire,’ Moana said. ‘It’s the meeting of the Danny Fry Survivor’s Club.’
Claire smiled at Jeanette, nodded at her friend, trying to remember what the girl’s name was. It took a moment to come to her. Tracey. That was it. The expert on chocolate bars.
A moment later, Jeanette was hugging her, and Claire stared over the young woman’s shoulder at Moana, surprised.
Jeanette let her go, stepping back. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I heard what you did. Throwing him overboard.’
Claire winced. ‘It was more of an accident,’ she said.
But Jeanette was shaking her head.
‘Not the way Moana here says it,’ Tracey offered. ‘Says you were a real hero, weren’t going to let him hurt any more kids.’
A helpless look at Moana, who just smiled and shrugged.
‘I just did what any of you would have done,’ Claire said.
‘Only better,’ Tracey decided. ‘I never learnt to swim real good.’
A slightly more desperate glance at Moana leaning against the table, arms folded, the look of a satisfied cat on her face. The woman took pity on Claire and straightened.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Here’s the state of play.’
All three of them turned toward her. Jeanette’s hands plucked at each other and Claire could feel the tension radiating from her.
‘First up, Danny Fry’s body hasn’t been found. Search and Rescue did their thing but discovered no sign of him.’
‘What about the life ring?’ Claire asked for the benefit of the others.
Moana shook her head. ‘Didn’t find that either, but they said it doesn’t mean anything. Chances were slim of finding him.’
‘So he could still be alive?’ Jeanette stuck her hands under her arms. They were curled into fists.
‘It’s unlikely,’ Moana told her.
‘So he’s dead?’ she asked and blinked. ‘What about the case against him? What about what he did to Sahara?’
‘Ah, well, there’s the important thing.’ Moana drew breath, Claire knowing what she was about to say.
‘The case against Danny Fry is looking more and more solid. Yesterday amongst the piles of evidence we’ve managed to gather against him was something that links him directly to Sahara.’ Her face softened, and Tracey moved closer to Jeanette. ‘A blue ribbon was found on board the boat. We think it must have fallen from his pocket. It matches the one Sahara was wearing, and better for us, it was still tied in a bow, with a hair caught in the knot. That hair is being analysed now, but I’ve every confidence it belongs to Sahara.’
For a moment, Jeanette drooped like a tree holding too much snow, but she rallied and stood straighter. ‘So we’ve got the bastard then,’ she said.
‘Yes, we have, with the results I'm also expecting from the new pathologist’s report.’
‘So if he was alive, he’d be going to jail?’
Moana gave a slow nod. ‘There’s only a remote chance that he’s alive, but if it turns out at any stage that he is, we will find him, and he will go to prison for a very long time.’ She paused. ‘If he isn’t, then he has already found justice.’
The four of them were silent for a long minute, taking it in.
‘Jeanette, are you going to be all right?’ Claire asked.
‘Course she will, won’t you Jeanette?’ Tracey said, putting an arm around her friend. ‘We’ll stick together, all of us, right? See her through.’ She looked from Claire to Moana, daring them to contradict her.
‘Yes,’ Moana said. ‘We will. Now, let’s go see if we can’t relax a little bit then, shall we? We deserve it, I think.’ She smiled at them. ‘I'm glad you all came.’ Patting Jeanette’s arm. ‘A good feed and some company will help. You’re not alone in any of this.’
She herded the younger women towards the door and ushered them out into the thick of things. Claire trailed along behind them, watched Moana’s group of family and friends absorb them into their midst as though they’d always belonged. She looked around for Rose.
Rose stood next to Pilot, the big German Shepherd’s eyes fixed on her as she told him to shake the hand of a delighted and gorgeous young Maori man. Ari stood next to them both, grinning. The dog promptly lifted his paw and Claire smiled at the way the man shook it, bending down to talk to the little girl and her dog.
‘She’s doing fine,’ Moana said, appearing at Claire’s side and passing her a glass of wine. ‘Told you Sunshine would love her.’
‘Yeah,’ Claire said on a sigh. ‘Rose is a tough little cookie.’
‘Takes after her Auntie Claire.’
‘Refuses to wear dresses anymore,’ she said, ignoring the comment. ‘Made me throw out the frilly stuff Danny had bought her.’
Moana giggled. ‘Like I said. Takes after her Auntie Claire.’
Claire snorted. ‘Seriously.’
‘Seriously? She’s doing fine, considering everything. You’re who she trusts now. Who she wants to be like. You make her feel safe.’
Claire looked down at the ground. ‘I'm supposed to be flying out in two weeks. Back to Cape Town. The new boat.’
‘You can’t go, you know.’
A sigh.
‘Do you have anyone waiting there for you? A girlfriend?’
Claire shook her head. She’d been too busy for relationships.
Moana raised her wine glass. ‘So, here’s to unexpected motherhood.’ Her smile widened. ‘Been there, done that, and fucking proud. Welcome aboard.’
82
Gracie gestured frantically to Claire. ‘You better take this,’ she mouthed, holding out the phone, then drawing Claire into the kitchen, a hand clutching at Claire’s shoulder.
‘Who is it?’ Claire asked.
Gracie had a hand clamped over the mouthpiece. She glanced over at the table where Rose had finished feeding her toast to Pilot and was letting him lick the butter and jam from her fingers. It was serious work for them both.
‘It’s Pilot’s real owners,’ she hissed, drawing Claire further away from Rose. ‘They saw the article in the newspaper and recognised him in the photo.’
‘Shit,’ Claire said. Even amongst the earthquake news the reporters had jumped on the story. It had just the drama they liked – famous sailor saves little girl from being molested by own father. She heaved a sigh. Those were newspaper cuttings she wouldn’t be keeping for posterity.
‘Claire,’ Gracie said, bringing her back to the kitchen where the sun shone in through the windows and the scent of basil was strong in the quiche Gracie was making. ‘What are you going to say?’ she asked.
Claire had no idea and it was with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she took the phone and introduced herself.
Ten minutes later, she was still standing in the kitchen, stunned.
‘They’re coming around?’ Gracie asked.
A nod, and another glance at Rose. She’d left her place at the table and was sitting on the floor, Pilot draped over her legs as she brushed a small hand over his thick fur.
‘They didn’t want to wait,’ she said. ‘They were already on their way, will be here in just a few minutes.’ She looked at her mother, who nodded sympathetically.
‘It will be better coming from you,’ Gracie said.
Claire shook her head, but it was half-hearted. Rose had latched onto her with the tenacity of a barnacle. Where Claire went, there too went Rose. And Pilot. Inside, outside, from one room to the next. Everywhere.
As if feeling her stare, Rose looked up and Claire smiled at her, handed the phone back to her mother, and went to crouch down next to the little girl. She put her hand on the dog next to Rose’s and spread her fingers into the glossy fur.
‘Rose,’ she said. ‘I was just talking to the people who lost Pilot in the earthquake.’
Rose’s small face turned instantly to her and she opened her mouth although no words came out. Claire reached for her and stood up, tucking her onto a hip. Pilot sat up and looked expectantly at the both of them.
‘They’ll be here in a minute, okay? They’ve something very important to tell you.’
‘I don’t want them to take Pilot,’ Rose said. ‘He’s my doggy now. I named him.’
‘And he loves you,’ Claire said. ‘And I think he likes his name too.’
‘He loves his name!’ Rose said and burst into tears, heaving watery sobs against Claire’s chest.
‘It’s going to be all right, sweetheart,’ Claire said. ‘You’ll see.’
Rose looked up at her with eyes wide and round and wet.
‘I hear their car now, I think. Let’s go say hello, shall we?’
There was no answer from Rose, but Claire didn’t expect one. It was enough that the tears were on hold. She brushed back a stubborn curl from Rose’s face and went outside to meet Pilot’s other family. The dog followed at her ankles, his long tail almost brushing the ground.
Pilot’s real owners got out of their car and stood on the driveway as Claire opened the gate and stepped towards them.
‘Luke!’ the man said and bent over, holding his hands out to the dog. Pilot stared at him a brief moment then gave a yip of recognition and bounded over to the couple. Claire held Rose tighter as the little girl watched soundlessly.
‘The earthquake spooked him,’ the man said after a moment, reaching forward to shake Claire’s hand. ‘I'm Rodger Turnstile. This is my wife, Linda.’
‘And this must be Rose,’ Linda said before Claire could get a word in. ‘I hear you’ve been looking after Luke really well.’
Rose hid her face for a moment in Claire’s shoulder, then turned back to face the strangers, her face fierce. ‘His name’s Pilot now,
’ she said.
‘It’s an excellent name,’ the man called Rodger said. He ruffled the dog’s fur. ‘I think he should keep it, don’t you?’
Rose refused to reply. She just stared at them, her hands little fists against Claire.
‘Pilot is a search and rescue dog,’ Rodger said.
‘That explains a lot,’ Claire said, unable to help herself.
‘We breed and train them ourselves,’ Linda explained. ‘We were on a training run in the hills when the earthquake struck. Our other dog Flossie ran straight to the car, but Luke – I mean Pilot – I think he got disoriented.’ She smiled at Rose. ‘He’s not very old yet. He’s only two.’
‘I'm three,’ Rose said.
‘That’s a terrific age,’ Linda said.
Rose stared at them some more, then said what was on her mind. Claire could feel the tension in her small body.
‘Are you going to take Pilot home with you?’ she demanded.
The couple smiled, and Rodger smoothed a hand over Pilot’s head while the dog looked from him to Rose. Claire would have sworn the animal was conflicted.
‘We heard you’ve had a very terrible time,’ Linda said to Rose. ‘We heard you lost your Mummy.’ She didn’t mention that Rose had lost her father as well, and Claire didn’t blame her.
‘My mummy died,’ Rose whispered.
‘And we can see that you’ve been looking after Pilot ever so well.’
Rose nodded from her perch on Claire’s hip. ‘He’s my best friend.’
Rodger and Linda looked at each other, then back at Rose. They’d already hinted at their plan to Claire on the phone, and she’d been holding her breath that she’d heard right.
‘We decided, since he and you are such good friends, that he should live with you.’ A small pause. ‘He can be your dog. Would you like that, Rose?’ Linda said.
The tiniest of nods. ‘Yes,’ Rose whispered. ‘Yes, please.’
Both dog trainers broke into wide smiles. Rodger looked down at Pilot. ‘What do you say, boy? You want to stay with Rose here?’
Pilot gave a loud bark and stood up, waving his tail in a wide swoosh from side to side. Claire let Rose slide down to the ground and the little girl ran over to the dog and threw her arms around his neck.
