Home to Turtle Bay

by Marion Lennox

  ‘Uncle Jack.’ Bridget’s yell was pure pleasure. ‘Did you see what we did?’

  ‘Yes! You were awesome. But I think you need to come home.’

  And then he looked past her. At what was behind us.

  Against the hush of the surf, the low-pitched motor sounded out of place. It must have been in the background while I’d surfed, I realised, but I’d been concentrating. A boat had rounded the headland and was motoring into the cove.

  It wasn’t just a boat. It was so large that the shallows presented a threat. Voices on board yelled a warning and the motor was cut. The huge vessel came to a halt two hundred yards from shore, behind the break. It stilled, wallowing in the swell.

  I knew this boat.

  It was a luxury cruiser, built for long range travel, equipped with every conceivable comfort. It gleamed with fresh white paint. Its two floors of living space soared skywards. There was a swimming pool on the back deck.

  It was Al Heinrigger’s yacht. The boat of Muriel’s lover.

  Muriel, Fraser and Bridget slipped from their boards. Jack walked further into the water, and Bridget lurched straight for him. He lifted her and held. Tight. The world was looking better to Bridget these days, but I knew she still didn’t trust it.

  I didn’t blame her. The yacht looked so out of place it was like a vessel from outer space had just turned up in our territory.

  And it seemed it was staying. The crew was lowering anchors. A dinghy not much smaller than Fraser’s fishing boat was being lowered at the rear, held steady by what looked like a small crane. A small, portly gentleman in naval attire stepped into the dinghy as it was lowered past the main deck.

  Al.

  He was followed by a tall, lean guy dressed in a crisp white shirt, tailored chinos and a tie.

  Richard!

  ‘Al,’ Muriel said, sounding flabbergasted.

  ‘Richard,’ I sputtered.

  Jack glanced at me and then away. A couple of waves broke over his legs. He didn’t seem to notice.

  The dinghy reached the water. Its motor purred to life and it headed straight for us. Al was at the helm. Richard was balancing mid-ship, but he wasn’t balancing very well.

  As it reached us, Al cut the motor.

  Al.

  Richard.

  Jack held tighter to Bridget.

  ‘It’s our girls!’ Al was little and rotund and beaming his pleasure, balancing in the dinghy like a seaman and looking as astonished as we were. He might have come halfway around the world to find us but he surely couldn’t have expected a swim-suited Muriel, already in the bay to greet him. He recovered fast, though. ‘Hello, Muriel,’ he said genially. ‘Surprise. I’ve come to take you home.’

  ‘Home?’ Muriel sounded dumbfounded.

  ‘I was told at the wharf that I could cruise right in here.’ Al was grinning like one of Carrie’s imported gnomes. ‘They said we could anchor the boat here in the cove and walk up to the house. I never expected you to be in the water waiting for me.’

  ‘Hello, Jennifer,’ said Richard.

  Richard didn’t look as delighted as Al. Not even close. In truth, Richard had the look of a man who’d been put to a great deal of trouble. The clothes he was wearing looked straight out of an expensive men’s magazine. Manhattan Does Casual. He was looking strained and pale. I could tell at a glance that he was not happy.

  ‘Richard.’ I couldn’t seem to get past his name.

  He looked totally out of place.

  Actually, the whole scene seemed wrong.

  Shouldn’t I be launching myself through the water to hug him? Come to think of it, shouldn’t he be jumping out of the dinghy to hug me?

  He should at least be out of the boat by now, I decided. That’s how it’d happen in movies. He should be hauling me into his arms and kissing me senseless.

  Why didn’t I want him to?

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I managed. There was a definite lack of welcome in my voice, but I couldn’t help it.

  And then I glanced at Jack and what I saw on his face … Suddenly I was thinking that way back in prehistoric times Jack would be producing his club and dragging me off to his cave by the hair.

  I’m not into violence—of course I’m not—but I couldn’t help feeling a little bit wistful.

  But we were being civilised—the resolution of this whole inheritance thing had to be civilised—and thoughts like that were pure stupidity. Richard seemed to be concentrating on balancing. He was looking a bit green, so Al answered for them both.

  ‘I had an excellent idea.’ He was still smiling, spreading his glow. It was hard to sound portentous when balancing in a dinghy, but somehow Al managed it. ‘I haven’t done a sea trip for a long time and I didn’t like the idea of you flying all the way back to New York,’ he told Muriel. ‘When I heard of your trouble I wanted to fly out at once but there seemed little I could do. But then I thought— I own a boat. A fast one. I started sailing straight away. I had the crew put in to Sydney first, thinking to reprovision there for the trip back. But then … I’d told your young man what I intended, Jennifer. He’s flown out to make sure you get the best deal for the land. His plane landed in Sydney just as we were about to leave for here, so of course we brought him. Now that I’m here for Muriel, he can escort you home. And here we are.’ He waved his hands expansively, incorporating his gorgeous yacht, his impeccably dressed crew, his world where all was in order.

  ‘So here’s our plan,’ he said, obviously deeply satisfied with the munificence of his organisation. ‘Richard and Jennifer can fly back, and Muriel and I will sail slowly home, via the South Seas. Muriel, I’ve checked with a couple of my former medical colleagues and they agree with me that cruising home means there’s no risk to your leg. And we may just have fun while we do it.’ His beam broadened. ‘By the way, I do like that bathing suit,’ he told the stunned Muriel. ‘It shows off your figure to perfection.’

  ‘Doesn’t it just?’ said Fraser, finding his voice.

  And Al noticed Fraser. Withered, wiry and clad in an ancient wetsuit, Fraser looked like a cross between the Ancient Mariner and a walrus. But there was something in the way he was standing beside Muriel—moving in closer—that made Al turn and stare.

  And then it was Richard’s turn to do the talking. While Fraser and Al eyed each other like two old dogs—or two old walruses— Richard struggled once more to find his balance in the rocking dinghy. Then he focused. ‘I’ve organised tickets on the seaplane this evening,’ he told me. ‘It was booked out this morning by some educational delegation, or I would have used it to come rather than …’ He hesitated and motioned to the yacht with a sketchy gesture. He looked really, really squeamish. ‘Rather than use that.’

  Then he got down to business.

  ‘I can spend the next few hours checking the farm,’ he told me. ‘But that’s all the time I can afford. To be honest, it’s all the time you can afford, too. I met with the developers in Sydney and I’m satisfied their offer is the best you’re likely to get. Meanwhile I’ve spent the last few weeks shoring up the damage to your career. The bottom line is that if you’re back in the States by Monday we can go on as we were.’ He gave a tight smile, which might just have been affected by a wave that threatened to tip him sideways. ‘Lionel will drop his lawsuit. I gather he has major problems with his marriage and he seems to have lost interest. The hospital will restore you to your position. Al will take care of Muriel. Problems solved.’

  Problems solved?

  ‘I thought they were engaged?’ Bridget said to Jack in a child’s whisper that everyone could hear. ‘Why aren’t they kissing? Jack, do something. Don’t let her go.’

  ‘Think of something, Jack,’ Carrie said, and then, as Jack obviously failed to meet expectations, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

  ‘Myrtle’s having babies,’ she said, loudly.

  As one, we stared in confusion.

  I thought … Myrtle?

  Jac
k recovered first. ‘My Myrtle?’

  ‘Our Myrtle,’ Carrie retorted.

  ‘Whose Myrtle?’ I managed. What were they talking about?

  ‘Well, I’m thinking she’s sort of mine,’ Jack said. He glanced at Richard and then back to me. ‘I’m her godfather, and I’m willing to bet my Casanova’s the daddy.’

  Myrtle. Casanova. Got it.

  Turtles.

  But it seemed Muriel had got it too, and she had an objection to Jack’s claim of parentage. I didn’t think she’d even listened when I’d told her about the turtles. Apparently she had, and she was now prepared to be possessive.

  ‘What about my Horatio?’ she demanded. ‘That’d make me a great-grandmother.’

  ‘You’d still only be a granny, Muriel,’ Jack said, that irrepressible smile building again in his dark eyes. ‘You’re not Horatio’s grandmother. But I’m sure it’s Casanova who did the deed.’

  I was struggling here. When in doubt … Triage. Work out priorities. My training was kicking in, but my priorities were wobbling.

  ‘Where’s Myrtle now?’ I asked.

  ‘In the living room at home,’ Carrie told me. ‘I’ve got her on screen.’

  ‘Myrtle’s having babies?’ The yacht and its two passengers were forgotten as Bridget finally sifted through this strange conversation to find what was important. Now she had it figured. ‘Babies! In our living room!’ She started tugging Jack out of the water. ‘I have to see. We all need to see.’

  Jack cast an uncertain look around the group. ‘I’m not sure, Bridge,’ he told her. ‘It seems Jenny and Muriel are leaving.’

  ‘Leaving?’ Bridget’s face turned blank. ‘Why would they leave when there’s babies?’

  Why indeed?

  Myrtle and her babies slipped out of focus. I was leaning against my surfboard which was wedged in wet sand. Right now I felt like I needed its support to keep me upright. Richard was watching, but he was still in the dinghy, rocking slightly in the shallows. He’d made no move to step out, to touch me. Maybe it was seasickness. Or consideration of his expensive shoes. Who knew? I felt strained to the limit, blank with shock. And indecisive.

  Indecisive was a good word, I thought. It was definitely appropriate. As if he sensed it, Jack set Bridget carefully down and took a step towards me. Then he stopped.

  Why?

  But then I knew. This was my decision. Jack had no right to try to influence me. He had no right to will my thoughts in any direction whatsoever.

  If I’d learned anything in these last weeks it was that Jack was a man of honour. Any decision had to be mine.

  ‘But what’s happening?’ Bridget asked in the plaintive tone of a kid not comprehending an adults’ world. ‘Isn’t Myrtle having babies right now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Jack carefully avoided looking at me. ‘Yes, she is. Come home with Carrie and me, and we’ll see.’

  ‘We should all see.’ Bridget’s voice was increasingly shrill. ‘Jenny, you need to come with us.’

  ‘Jenny’s busy,’ Jack said. ‘These men have come to take Jenny and Muriel home.’

  ‘But Myrtle …’

  ‘We need to go, Bridge.’

  ‘I’ll come, too.’ Fraser was wading out of the shallows, and there was anger in his voice. Muriel hadn’t said a word, but her face looked as expressionless as mine must be. Our world had arrived to reclaim us. It had shocked us into momentary silence, but we wouldn’t refuse to be claimed.

  Why should we?

  ‘I want Jenny and Muriel to come with us.’ Bridget turned to the men in the boat, her voice urgent. ‘Myrtle’s having babies. Muriel wants to see and we need Jenny. Jenny’s a lady doctor. She’s good at babies. She has to come.’

  Al looked doubtful, but Richard was made of sterner stuff.

  ‘We need to catch tonight’s seaplane,’ he told me, ignoring everyone else. ‘Jennifer, we need to leave. Al can help Muriel tie up any loose ends, but you and I need to go.’ He was smiling now—he looked a bit more certain that the dinghy wasn’t about to capsize, and things were going according to plan. He could afford to turn to Bridget for just a moment.

  ‘I’m sorry, young lady, but Dr Kelly isn’t licensed to practise medicine here,’ he told her. ‘I have no idea why she’s been doing so, but she stands to put herself in all sorts of legal trouble.’

  ‘I have provisional registration,’ I muttered but Richard wasn’t listening.

  ‘Myrtle needs her.’ Bridget was obviously not understanding what he was saying, but she was prepared to be stubborn.

  ‘The whole island needs her,’ Jack said softly. ‘I need her.’ But his last words were almost to himself.

  Fraser had heard, though. He cast Jack a curious look and then focused on Richard.

  ‘Are you saying you won’t let Jenny help deliver Myrtle’s babies because she might get sued?’ he demanded, and that was just what Richard had been saying.

  ‘Of course. I’m sure there are other doctors who can deliver—’

  ‘There aren’t,’ Fraser retorted, pushing his point. Maybe we hadn’t told him who Myrtle was. Maybe Fraser, too, was thinking this was another drama. ‘Jenny’s the only obstetrician on the island. She’s saved three lives already. You’re saying you won’t let her help again now?’

  ‘Fraser …’ I said weakly. It wasn’t just Bridget and Fraser who were confused. Were we all talking … about delivering baby turtles?

  ‘Whether any other obstetrician’s available has nothing to do with Jenny,’ Richard said coldly. ‘It’s time you all learned that. Al, can we beach this thing? I assume the house is within walking distance?’

  He had it sorted. But me … What did I have sorted?

  The dinghy put-putted the final few feet to the beach.

  I wasn’t ready for him.

  ‘I don’t need to go home straight away,’ I began. ‘If a patient really needs me …’

  ‘For heaven’s sake …’ Richard climbed carefully from the dinghy onto the sand. I’d been with him when he’d bought those shoes. They cost more than mine.

  Where were my gorgeous shoes now?

  Did I care?

  I forced myself to listen to Richard. Drifter had bounced towards him as he’d landed. Richard warded her off and focused on me.

  ‘The island’s medical needs have nothing to do with you,’ he told me. ‘This place has nothing to do with you. More time away jeopardises your career. If a woman’s in trouble here, then it’s up to the local medical community to take care of her. It’s not your problem.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Jennifer, deviating for whatever reason causes chaos. Look at the problems you’ve caused by coming here in the first place.’

  ‘I’ve solved a few problems, too,’ I said defensively. ‘I’ve seen patients—’

  ‘Then you’ve been foolish. Don’t get involved. You know that.’

  ‘I don’t know that I do anymore.’

  I could see his irritation mounting. ‘Jennifer, I’ve come halfway around the world. I’ve been seasick. I’ve put myself to enormous inconvenience on your behalf. I’m trying to resurrect your career, and you’d risk it because some local woman is having a baby?’

  ‘You’d put your career in front of a baby?’ I asked, slowly, trying to get my thoughts untangled.

  He flushed. ‘Of course not. Not if I was the only doctor and the thing would die if I didn’t help. But if—’

  ‘The baby,’ I said softly. ‘Not the thing.’

  Everyone was out of the water now, standing around the pile of surfboards on the sand. Surfboards or ghosts? That was a crazy thing to think, but I felt like I was veering towards crazy.

  I should shut up. I should say nothing until Richard and I were in private, but suddenly privacy didn’t seem to matter.

  A thing …

  A name in the family escutcheon.

  I’d so wanted to belong.

  I glanced across at Jack.

  Jack hadn’t chosen to b
e here. He hadn’t wanted to be drawn into this bittersweet web of belonging, but he’d had no choice. He couldn’t go back, but he wanted …

  I knew what he wanted.

  ‘Let’s leave these people to sort out their travel plans,’ he was telling Bridget, his voice sounding flat and dead. ‘We have babies to watch being born.’

  ‘Muriel …’ Fraser started—and then stopped at the look on Muriel’s face. ‘Okay, then,’ he said, just as heavily. ‘I’ll move these boards further up the beach, Jack, and I’ll join you.’

  ‘Are you right then, love?’ Al asked. He’d given Fraser a long, hard look, but now he picked up a towel and started rubbing Muriel’s back. His Muriel. A battle had been declared and won.

  ‘Do you want help, Jennifer?’ Richard asked.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you?’ Jack asked, but I ignored him. What choice did I have?

  ‘Will we see you again?’ Bridget asked, a trace of desperation in her voice, and I cast a glance at Richard and shook my head.

  My life had to reclaim me sometime. Why not now?

  This was how I’d trained myself from the time my mother died, I reminded myself. I was a self-contained woman who knew what I wanted in life. I was working my way slowly but independently towards sensible goals.

  This island had deflected me. This time, these people, had made me rethink who I was and what I wanted, but I’d always known it had to end. It’d hurt to leave, but to stay was impossible.

  ‘I need to pack, Bridge. Richard and I have things to do and we’re in a hurry.’

  Jack took Bridget’s hand. ‘That’s it then,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  He lifted her up and turned to the track—but then he paused.

  We had yet more company.

  22

  bif n. at the peak of the wave, an unexpected change causes chaos.

  Someone was walking down the path towards us. Drifter was bounding up to greet him.

  Was this anything to do with us? Whatever, I turned towards the man trudging down the sand dunes with a sense of relief. I didn’t know who he was, but if he could break this appalling tension he was welcome.