Zoe sat on the stockyard rail, hand on hip, brimming with pleasure and pride. Josh had worked hard to prepare for today’s forty-kilometre time trial. He’d built up Aisha’s fitness with lots of slow, long-distance work, accompanied by Quinn on Yarraman. The pair were always off somewhere. Down at the beach, riding the picturesque network of cane-train trails, or just going bush. Plenty of time for talking during those long hours together in the saddle. A perfect way for the brothers to reconnect. A perfect way to begin the new year.
And next week, Josh faced another momentous step forward. Starting school at Bundaberg High, three days a week, with a modified curriculum and the assistance of an aide. Studying basic maths, English and one unit of a certificate in sugar production. He’d be boarding with the family of an old schoolfriend for half of each week. Already the two boys were getting on well, going to the movies one day and laser-tag on another. Josh had complained that he barely had time any more for his online computer games. That remark had made Quinn very happy.
And then, of course, there was his cool weekend job. In her new capacity as Director of the Reef Centre, Zoe had employed Josh to help with their newly funded Fins For Freedom project. Mirrhi and Echo had received their morbillivirus vaccinations and were already doing well in the program. Zoe was having the other dolphins assessed next month as potential candidates.
Dr Wendy Hossack, a marine mammal specialist, was supervising the transition project. She’d overseen the successful rehabilitation and release of two long-term captives last year. So far, those male dolphins had exceeded all expectations. Satellite transmitters had tracked the pair over two hundred kilometres in their first week of freedom. They were hunting fish as a team and interacting with wild dolphins. Exciting stuff.
The Dancing Dolphins shows continued, with a new emphasis on education and natural behaviours, instead of entertainment. Strangely enough, visitor numbers were up, not down. Mirrhi and Echo were learning to catch live fish again and Archie was flat out keeping up supplies. ‘Our task is to empower the dolphin,’ Wendy said during a staff briefing. ‘A captive dolphin loses control of his life in the same way as any prisoner. It is for us to return his power to him.’ Zoe furiously agreed with her. Kane was testament to this fundamental truth.
A loud, enthusiastic whoop brought her meandering thoughts back to the present. Quinn was waving his hat in the air. ‘They’re off.’ Aisha and Josh were leading a bunch of riders out of the start gates. ‘Little smartarse. I told him to start off slow.’
‘There’s one,’ said Josh, pointing.
Zoe aimed the turkey baster at the oyster shell in the tank, trying to hold her hand steady. She squeezed the red bulb between thumb and forefinger, slowly does it, then suddenly let it go. ‘Gotcha.’ The tiny octopus was drawn into the glass tube. ‘How many inklets is that?’
‘Sixty-two.’ Josh updated his octo-count notes.
‘Inklets?’ asked Quinn.
‘That’s what newborn octopuses are called. Cute, eh?’
Quinn took the turkey baster from her and peered in. ‘Beats me how you can even see the little beggars.’
The brown-spotted baby was maybe quarter the size of his thumbnail. It settled on the glass, eight miniature arms and big dark eyes, blue blood on show through translucent skin. They were certainly beautiful babies.
Zoe knuckled back tears. Einstein had died last night. Thirty-five days of not eating, of total devotion to her brood. There was a theory that as mother octopuses approached death, they gave off chemical signals to their eggs. Hurry now, babies. I’m growing weak. I can’t look after you much longer. However it happened, Einstein’s death coincided with the hatching. Shortly after blowing the last inklet clear of the nest, she curled up and stopped breathing.
It had been a long, sad time coming. An ordeal for Zoe, as well as for Einstein as she wasted away. She grew thin and uncoordinated, with bulging eyes and painful-looking skin lesions that wouldn’t heal. In some ways her death had come as a blessed relief for them both.
‘Are we going to catch all of them?’ asked Josh.
‘We’re going to try.’ Zoe emptied the baster into a glass jar of seawater. She’d spotted another inklet.
‘Couldn’t I keep one as a pet?’
‘Octopuses are very hard to grow from eggs in an aquarium,’ she said. ‘And I owe it to Einstein to give her babies the best possible start. That’s why we’re taking them out to the reef.’ Josh looked glum and Zoe took pity on him. ‘Truth is,’ she said, ‘I’m bound to miss one or two. They’re so tiny and well-camouflaged. We’ll keep any that are left behind and try to raise them. How’s that?’
Josh looked much happier and immediately stopped helping her spot more babies.
An hour later Zoe called it a day. ‘How many is that?’
‘One hundred and one,’ said Josh.
‘That’ll do us.’ Zoe refreshed the jars with oxygenated water. ‘I’ll stock the tank with brine shrimp when I get back, so there’s food for any leftover inklets.’
Quinn picked up the tray of jars. ‘What are we waiting for?’ The three of them headed down to the jetty. He carefully stowed the tray beneath Seafarer’s rear seat, while Zoe fussed about like a mother hen. ‘I can’t believe I’m on an octopus rescue mission,’ he said, taking the helm. ‘Turtle Reef, full speed ahead.’
Zoe had chosen the release site with great care – a shallow sunlit coral garden, full of cracks and crevices where inklets could hide. Quinn stripped down and began sorting through fins. He selected a mask, then a snorkel, and tried them on. ‘Do you think these fit?’
Zoe’s eyes widened. ‘You mean you’re coming in?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I’m their godfather, after all. I need to say goodbye to the little tackers, don’t I?’
‘Yes.’ Zoe wrapped her arms around his neck for a quick kiss. ‘You certainly do.’
The three of them entered the water, carrying their precious cargo in string bags. Clouds of colourful fish parted before their eyes. Zoe led them through the warm translucent water to a broad shelf of table coral, just a metre below the surface. She held up her hand. ‘This is the place.’
Quinn helped open the jars. The babies needed encouragement to let go of the glass before scooting into open water. One blink and they were gone, back where they belonged, part of the timeless circle of life on Turtle Reef. The future looked bright for Einstein’s little inklets. Zoe and Quinn joined hands. The future looked bright for them all.
ALSO BY JENNIFER SCOULLAR
For Nina Moore, the rare marshland flanking the beautiful Bunyip River is the most precious place on earth. Her dream is to buy Billabong Bend and protect it forever, but she’s not the only one with designs on the land. When her childhood sweetheart Ric returns home, old feelings are rekindled, and Nina dares to dream of a future for both of them on the river. But a tragic death divides loyalties and threatens to tear apart their fledgling romance.
This star-crossed rural romance sets Nina, a floodplains grazier, and Ric, a traditional cotton farmer, on a heart-rending collision course, amid the beauty of northern NSW.
PRAISE FOR JENNIFER SCOULLAR:
‘A crisp, well-written tale . . . Sings like a Bunya mountain breeze.’
COURIER-MAIL
‘A lovely story of family and self-discovery, of love of the land and the wildlife that live on it.’
1 GIRL . . .2 MANY BOOKS
‘Celebrates the country and, more importantly, the bush as a life-changing environment . . . A heart-thumping romance.’
The Weekly Times
Brisbane lawyer Clare Mitchell has a structured, orderly life. That is, until she finds herself the unlikely guardian of a small, troubled boy. In desperation, Clare takes Jack to stay at Currawong Creek, her grandfather’s horse stud in the foothills of the beautiful Bunya Mountains.
Here life moves at a different pace, and for Clare it feels like coming home. Her grandad adores having them there. Jack
loves the animals. And Clare finds herself falling hard for the handsome local vet.
But trouble is coming. The Pyramid Mining Company threatens to destroy the land Clare loves – and with it, her newfound happiness.
‘An excellent read.’
NEWCASTLE HERALD
‘Delightful, thoughtful and heartwarming.’
BOOK’D OUT
‘Ms Scoullar’s love of the land truly shines through . . . Told with warmth and humour, this is a story about family, the risks and rewards of selfless devotion and the powerful bonds we form with animals and the land.’
BOOK MUSTER DOWN UNDER
A blissful carefree summer beckons for Samantha Carmichael. But her world is turned on its head when she learns she’s adopted – and that she has a twin sister, Charlie, who is critically ill.
While Charlie recovers in hospital, Sam offers to look after Brumby’s Run, her sister’s home high in the Victorian Alps. Within days city girl Sam finds herself breaking brumbies and running cattle with the help of handsome neighbour Drew Chandler, her sister’s erstwhile boyfriend.
A daunting challenge soon becomes a wholehearted tree change as Sam begins to fall in love with Brumby’s Run – and with Drew. But what will happen when Charlie comes back to claim what is rightfully hers?
Set among the hauntingly beautiful ghost gums and wild horses of the high country, Brumby’s Run is a heartfelt, romantic novel about families and secrets, love and envy and, most especially, the bonds of sisterhood.
‘Jennifer Scoullar’s passion for the land shines through in this wonderful romance set high in the Victorian Alps. Highly recommended.’
SUNSHINE COAST DAILY
‘A strong storyline with appealing characters set within in a magnificent landscape. If you devoured The Silver Brumby series as a child or had a crush on Tom Burlinson, you are sure to love Brumby’s Run.’
BOOK’D OUT
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing a book is never a solo exercise. Thanks go firstly to my family for their support and help. To Daniel, Heather, Matthew, Tyson, Rod and particularly to Samantha Roberts, proof-reader extraordinaire. Thanks to Rhonda Scoullar for her knowledge and interest in this project. I appreciate you all so much.
Thanks to my publisher, Sarah Fairhall, for her trust and editorial guidance. Thanks to Ali Arnold for her wonderful edits, and for being so easy to work with. And thanks to Heidi McCourt, Maria Matina and the rest of the Penguin publishing team for their hard work. Thanks also to my agent, Clare Forster of Curtis Brown.
Writing can be a lonely business, but not with fabulous writer friends like the Darklings and the Little Lonsdale Group. It means such a lot to have you guys in my corner. Particular thanks go to fellow New Romantics Margareta Osborn, Kate Belle and Kathryn Ledson. Nobody understands the trials and tribulations of writing novels like you do. Thanks also to Sydney Smith for her advice and wild imagination when it comes to exploring plot ideas.
I pay special tribute to the Australian Marine Conservation Society and the Australian Conservation Foundation. These organisations work tirelessly to protect the Great Barrier Reef and its marvellous marine life. The reef is one of the natural wonders of the world, the only living thing visible from space. Let’s not ruin it!
About the Author
Jennifer has always harboured a deep appreciation and respect for the natural world. Her house, which was left to her by her father, is on a hilltop overlooking valleys of messmate and mountain ash. She lives there with her family. A pair of old eagles live there too. Black-tailed wallabies graze by the creek. Eastern spinebills hover among the callistemon. Horses have always been her passion. She grew up on the books of Elyne Mitchell, and all her life she’s ridden and bred horses, in particular Australian stock horses.
jenniferscoullar.com
MICHAEL JOSEPH
UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia
India | New Zealand | South Africa | China
Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies
whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published by Penguin Group (Australia), 2015
Text copyright © Jennifer Scoullar 2015.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Cover design by Laura Thomas © Penguin Group (Australia)
Text design by Laura Thomas © Penguin Group (Australia)
Cover photographs by: reef: Martin Stolworthy /Getty Images; girl: Noel Hendrickson/Getty Images
Colour separation by Splitting Image Colour Studio, Clayton, Victoria
penguin.com.au
ISBN: 978-1-74348-580-4
THE BEGINNING
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Turtle Reef Page 29
