by Di Morrissey
‘Food is included in the tariff, though there’s a big choice, of course, including house wine. Spirits or other wines you pay for. Dinner in the evening is a choice of a la carte or buffet; breakfast and lunch are buffet style. But you can also order hampers and picnic baskets,’ she added. ‘The chef is good, I hate to think how many kilos I’ve gained since I’ve been here.’ They sat in a small cafe across from the dining room that served snacks and drinks during the day.
‘How did you get into hospitality, Rosie?’ asked Jennifer.
‘My mum and dad ran a pub,’ she laughed. ‘An old-fashioned country pub in southern New South Wales. Then they started one of the first B and Bs. After I’d travelled around Europe as a backpacker I knew looking after people, making their holidays comfortable and interesting, was what I wanted to do. I did a business degree. Unlike Blair, I’ve never been a chef.’
‘Do I hear my name being bandied about?’ Blair came to the table as Jennifer pushed her coffee to one side and started to stand up. ‘Hey, princess, welcome to the island.’ Awkwardly, they kissed quickly, Jennifer half out of her seat and Blair pulling out a chair. He grinned at her. ‘I hear you conned yourself a ride over on the chopper.’
‘It hadn’t occurred to me. Vera at reception arranged it. I was glad I did. I was afraid I was going to be seasick.’
‘The cat is very stable, it travels above the water, no pitching, it’s really quite comfortable,’ said Rosie. ‘Well, I’ll let you two catch up. Welcome again, Jennifer. If you need anything, any questions – that Blair can’t answer – give me a holler. If I don’t see you later I’ll be back in a week.’
Jennifer wondered if she was reading more into Rosie’s smile than a simple welcome. There seemed a subtle hint that we girls need to help each other.
‘Thanks for showing me around, Rosie.’ Jennifer watched Rosie pause to greet a couple a few tables away. ‘You’re lucky to have such a pleasant boss. She’s not what I thought she’d be at all.’ You made her sound an inefficient bitch.
‘She handles the admin stuff okay. I’ve been brought in to jazz up the menu and liaise with the staff. There are always problems but they’re magnified because they live here for their shifts. So, everything okay?’
Jennifer was ready to collapse in his arms. ‘I’m exhausted, Blair, packing up, moving out, the goodbyes, then driving up the coast to goodness knows what, I feel a bit fragile.’
‘Rubbish. Look where you are! Don’t you think it’s great? People pay a fortune to be here. The time will whiz by and then I’ll be off to somewhere bigger, hopefully OS.’
‘I hope the time will whiz for me too,’ said Jennifer in a small voice. Thank heavens she had something to keep her somewhat occupied. ‘I’m wondering where I can work. The accommodation is nice but compact, don’t you think?’
Blair got up. ‘Jeez, Jenny, don’t start whingeing. You’re not even unpacked. Give it a chance. Come on, let’s go, the cat’s arrived, your stuff will be in the room by now. The boys were running it up from the jetty.’
Jennifer had seen the small electric carts that ran around the resort delivering luggage, laundry and supplies. ‘Great. Maybe I can try out the pool,’ she said, trying to make amends and please Blair.
‘You do that. Get settled and I’ll meet you in the dining room at twelve-fifteen for lunch.’
‘You’re not coming for a swim? Help me unpack?’
‘Jenny! I’m working, remember?’ He gave her a quick kiss. ‘I’ll walk you back over to our place. I’m counting on you to make it nice and homey. And, tonight, I’m off duty, so I’ll make it up to you then, okay?’ He squeezed her round the waist.
It was romantic. Over a creamy cocktail with a slice of pineapple in it, they watched the brilliant sunset from the terrace bar. The water was gilded with soft gold and rose tones. A cluster of clouds backlit by the setting sun made the scene spectacular. ‘Just like the travel brochures,’ thought Jennifer. Flashes from cameras captured the moment.
‘There go those terns back to their nests. It’s amazing how unconcerned they are at all the people around them,’ said Jennifer.
‘Place is overrun with birds. Wait till the turtles come in to lay their eggs and later, when they hatch, it’s quite an attraction,’ said Blair. ‘Personally, I can think of better things to do in the middle of the night or at dawn than crawl around the beach with a flashlight.’ He squeezed her leg. ‘Now, after dinner, we’re going round to the staffie party. I want to show you off to all the kids.’
‘Kids? Most of them aren’t much younger than us. But do we have to? On our first night here?’
‘C’mon, Jenny, you can’t be that tired. It’ll be fun, and it’ll be good for you to get to know the girls. If they can’t talk to me about certain problems they can go to you.’
‘Why not Rosie? She’s very approachable. I’m not employed here.’
‘What’s got into you? You’re being such a downer. Don’t be a pain, Jenny, you’re supposed to be here to support me.’
‘Sorry. I just feel like a fish out of water.’ She glanced at the sea, so close to where they sat, and shuddered. ‘Let me get used to all this. You’ve been here a week.’
‘All right. But I loved it from the minute I stepped ashore. Come on, let’s go and eat.’
They passed a noisy group at the bar inside and Jennifer recognised Dougie Wilson, known as Willsy, a presenter from a TV show. ‘That’s the guy from that crazy reality show. Used to be a singer, didn’t he?’
‘Tried to be. Before that he was a third-rate boxer, then he got into the personal fitness business. He’s got a big following now.’
‘When all else fails, find fame as a TV host. Then what?’ asked Jennifer dryly, looking at the hangers-on around the trendy TV personality who was featured frequently in the gossip magazines.
‘You can’t blame him for making hay while the TV spotlight is on him,’ said Blair. ‘I’m hoping he might get one of the travel shows to do a segment on us.’
‘This place doesn’t need it,’ said Jennifer.
They reached the dining room and Blair led her to a table for two in a quiet section of the screened verandah. On the table was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and a candle surrounded by frangipani flowers.
‘I know you like flowers, but these and a few hibiscuses around the resort are all there is, I’m afraid. Mostly it’s all prickly native crap.’
‘Oh Blair, thanks for thinking. And the champagne, lovely.’
A pretty waitress immediately came to their table and poured the champagne. ‘Welcome, Mrs Towse. Do you want the à la carte menu or the buffet?’ She gestured to the centre of the room where guests were milling around the lavish spread of food.
Before Jennifer could answer, Blair thanked the waitress. ‘We’ll go for the works. It’s seafood night.’
‘Blair, I’m not all that hungry.’
‘You’ll love it. Doesn’t come any fresher than this. Well, we tell the guests the fish were swimming this morning, but a lot of it is chilled, brought in from the mainland,’ he confided with a grin.
Jennifer walked around the buffet holding an empty plate. She couldn’t bring herself to heap her plate with seafood like everyone else. Two glasses of champagne seemed to have gone to her head. She felt dazed, as if she was observing everything from an out-of-body experience. The glassy-eyed dead crayfish and prawns didn’t tempt her. The huge fish whose eyes and expression seemed to indicate it had died a slow and lingering death lay there as flesh was hacked from its body. Oysters, on their bed of mushy ice, looked like woeful eyes dismembered from some strange beast. The ravenous, grasping, fat and sun-red guests circled the prey and pounced in a feeding frenzy. To Jennifer the people looked like what they were eating: bulbous red arms with diamond-decked claw fingers dived into second helpings. A tall thin man waving tongs looked like a boiled shrimp. She felt like she was in an aquarium of weird marine people.
‘Jenny? Can’t make up your mi
nd?’ Blair was smiling at her, holding a plate overflowing with fleshy white fish laid out on lettuce.
A scene from a movie in a morgue filled with bodies under green sheets flashed into her mind. ‘I think I’m going to be sick. Excuse me.’ She fled to the ladies’ room.
She struggled through dinner, pushing food around on her plate and only half listening to Blair’s potted life histories of the key staff.
‘As far as I can figure, there are a couple of really bright and ambitious kids. The rest are just here filling in time, trying to save a bit of cash, or they think it’s a cushy job at an island resort. A few of them could be encouraged to see a future for themselves in hospitality,’ said Blair as they walked hand-in-hand along the path leading from the dining room. ‘Tell me what you think of them. See if you can pick the bright sparks.’
‘You mean now? Are we really going to this staff party? I’m a bit tired, Blair. It is my first day here, after all.’
‘We won’t stay long. You tell me when you’re ready to leave. I promised we’d put in an appearance.’
They walked in silence along the sandy path lit by an occasional small light at ground level. They heard the laughter and music as they approached the staff accommodation. Coloured lights were strung up and several tables spread with food and plates were pushed together. Young men were turning sizzling chops and sausages at the barbecue. Now they were out of their staff shirts their individuality was more apparent.
Blair took Jennifer over to a tall, thin young man in a red shirt that hung partially open revealing a pale, hairless chest. He was pouring margaritas.
‘Doyley, this is my wife Jennifer. This is Kevin Doyle, he manages the bar and supervises in the dining room. He’s also the resident funnyman.’
‘Hello Kevin, pleased to meet you.’ Jennifer shook hands, liking his open friendly face. He had a hooked nose and lank hair and she supposed he was one of the not-so-handsome guys who used humour instead of looks to charm people.
‘It’s Doyley, you know those little lace things your mother sticks around on tables and things,’ Blair corrected her. ‘He won’t answer to Kevin.’
‘Bit how’s your father, though it’s not as bad as Bruce,’ Doyley said, pointing to an exceedingly handsome blond surfie-looking spunk who was obviously called Bruce. ‘So, what do you fancy? A couple of snags or a chop?’
‘We’ve eaten, thanks. What’s to drink? I’ll have something sent over from the bar,’ said Blair eyeing the cartons of wine.
There’re plenty of these.’ He held up the pitcher of margaritas. He reached for a glass with a salted rim, filled it and handed it to Jennifer.
‘I’ll get a beer.’ Blair headed to the table holding the drinks.
‘How long have you been here?’ asked Jennifer, gingerly sipping the potent cocktail. Kevin, Doyley, was the one person she’d seen who wasn’t tanned.
‘Long enough to know to keep out of the sun. It’s bloody hot. Keep plenty of blockout on. These northern Europeans all want to go home looking like natives.’
‘I intend to keep out of the sun as much as possible,’ said Jennifer.
Blair joined her with two pretty girls in tow. Both were very brown. Jennifer grinned at Doyley. ‘Meet Sheree and Rhonda, currently in housekeeping,’ said Blair.
Jennifer smiled and asked how long they’d been on the island.
‘I’m a Brit, travelling round Australia, this is such a gorgeous place I haven’t got past Queensland and Sydney yet,’ said Sheree.
‘Sadly, I’m coming to the end of my time,’ said Rhonda in a soft Irish lilt. ‘Over a year in Oz, six months here on Branch.’
They swirled around her, as Jennifer was introduced to the two dozen staffies. Most seemed to be about her and Blair’s age though Blair, despite his jovial, casual manner, still had an air of being the boss. Even though the staffies had been drinking, Jennifer could tell they were being careful in front of him. She joined a group that was sitting to one side and discovered the girls were talking about the resident ‘perv’.
‘He’s always watching you. His name is Patch ’cause of the patch on his eye. He’s probably more harmless than Methuselah,’ laughed one of the girls.
‘Methuselah is a two-hundred-and-fifty-kilo grouper that has lived around the wreck and the wharf for years,’ explained Rhonda as she sat next to Jennifer. ‘Patch is an old bloke who works here repairing machinery. He’s just unnerving, you turn around and he’s there. He walked in on one of the girls cleaning a bathroom once.’
‘Why hasn’t he been warned by management?’ asked Jennifer. Surely Rosie wouldn’t tolerate such behaviour.
‘He’s very old and he’s worked here since it opened, when it was just a casual holiday place,’ explained Rhonda. ‘He’s a harmless old bugger. He nearly had a heart attack the other day. He caught one of the girls sunbaking topless out the back of her room and when she spotted him perving she jumped up and held her boobs out to him and yelled, “Come on, come and have a feel!” He nearly dropped his teeth and fled.’
They all laughed but Jennifer didn’t find it funny. She sipped her margarita and watched them, listening to the chatter and the bursts of laughter, sensing the under-currents of flirting and the prickly relationships. She wondered how often the tensions flared during their two weeks on the island before they had their one-week break back on the mainland.
She excused herself and edged around to Blair, standing close to him and signalling she wanted to leave.
‘Hey missus, want another wine?’
‘Since when have I been the missus?’ she asked lightly, but her voice carried an edge Blair knew meant she was annoyed. ‘It’s late, could we leave the gang to party on?’
‘Sure, sure.’ He turned back to finish his story and Doyley topped up his own drink, giving Jennifer a wink. She put her hand over her empty glass and shook her head. Doyley nodded and moved on, pausing to speak to Rhonda.
While Blair continued talking, Rhonda touched Jennifer on the arm. ‘I’m heading back to the resort, would you like to walk with me? We can swing by your place on the way. It can be confusing at night when you’ve just arrived,’ she said softly.
Relieved, Jennifer nudged Blair. ‘Excuse me, darling, Rhonda is heading off and I might walk with her and get settled. I’ll see you later, okay?’ She hoped Blair would get the message, put his drink down and go with her.
‘Great, fine. Thanks, Rhonda. I won’t be long. We’ll have a nightcap and watch the moon rise over the ocean, right?’
‘Right.’ In your dreams, even if we had an ocean view. ‘Goodnight, everyone,’ she nodded to the group and moved quickly away.
‘Thanks, Rhonda, I’m so tired. I hope I’m not dragging you away.’
‘Not at all. I want to use the phone outside reception anyway. Thank Doyley, he figured you were looking a trifle weary. Being your first day and all.’
They left the party and walked quietly, their footsteps muffled on the sandy path.
‘Do you feel safe here?’ asked Jennifer. ‘That lecherous old man sounds a bit of a worry.’ She glanced around at the shadowy trees, the poorly lit path. She heard rustling in the trees from the birds, and the occasional scratchy sound in the dried leaves and undergrowth.
‘It took me a while. But then I’m not used to living so up-close-and-personal with the wildlife,’ said Rhonda. ‘I’m from Dublin. It takes a while to adjust to the fact that you can’t run far.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Being on an island. No trains, buses, or winding roads. A boat twice a day. A helicopter in an emergency.’ She shrugged. ‘When I first came I was worried about accidents, being cut off, stuck with the same people, all that sort of thing.’
‘I think I’m going through that. And this is only my first day,’ said Jennifer rather ruefully.
‘You get over it. I like the relaxed, away-from-it-all atmosphere now. And the birds, the turtles, the whole nature thing. I’ll miss it.’
‘When are you leaving?’
‘In two weeks. Family things back home. Sheree is staying though. Well, there’s the track to your place that way. Just a hundred metres through the trees. I’m going to the main area. You’ll be all right?’
‘Of course, it’s not far. But it is dark.’
‘Leave a light on outside your cabin at night.’
‘I will. Thank you, Rhonda.’
‘Goodnight. Sleep well.’
‘I certainly will.’ Jennifer hurried, nervous at the quietness around her. Everyone was either in bed or out somewhere. Their cabin was tucked away from it all. She now wished they had neighbours in residence. She tripped as she hurried up the step onto the small deck and reached for the sliding door. Maybe they shouldn’t leave the place unlocked. She fumbled for the light switch and as the pale glow lit the main room, she slid the door shut and pulled the curtain across it, glad that the ceiling fan was whirring gently. The light was dim, the power was not strong, probably from a generator. She turned on all the lights and, tired as she was, for once she longed for a TV set to keep her company. Then she remembered Vi and Don’s satellite radio. She decided to have a shower, get into bed and see if she could tune it to whatever band reached Branch Island, a dot in the Coral Sea on the edge of the Pacific Ocean.
The sheets were crisp, smooth and cool. Jennifer gave up trying to tune the radio and lay back enjoying the light whoosh of air across her body from the ceiling fan. She left the bedside light on, thinking she’d read a magazine, but her eyes closed and she drifted to sleep.
She didn’t hear Blair come in and slip into bed beside her. He tried not to wake her and in seconds he was in a deep sleep too.
Later, Jennifer thought it must have been around two in the morning, she was jolted awake. Was she dreaming or had she really heard a terrible wail? A baby in unspeakable pain? Someone strangling a cat? She stumbled from bed, crashing into the bedside table in the dark. She found the sliding door handle and wrenched the door open to the small balcony as Blair stirred.
