by Di Morrissey
‘Ah, boring stuff. Anyway, I told Tony about it. Once is enough. It’s on the record now.’
Jennifer hadn’t had time to go through all Tony’s notes and tapes. In the evenings she listened to the radio after dinner and worked before going to bed with her reading material from Mac and books sent from the university library. She made a note to attack some of Tony’s tapes. If her book was about the island and the work being done by the research team, she needed all the background that Gideon could provide. Most of all, Gideon talked of the mysteries of the deep sea and the bizarre fish he had seen one night: ‘As big as a child, glowing luminous blue with fins like fingers and stubby legs.’
‘Like a four-hundred-million-year-old fishy water-baby,’ said Jennifer.
‘Maybe some souls go into the sea rather than the sky. I rather like to imagine the bowl that is the Planet Earth being tipped upside down so the sky and stars are below us and the ocean above so we’d look up to see clouds of coral and rainbows of fish.’
‘But the sea would rain down on us . . . fish and sharks and clumps of coral and storms of seaweed,’ laughed Jennifer, enjoying teasing him.
‘Mmm, then we’ll leave the ocean where it is. But who’s to say whether the land will be covered by oceans once again, or the seas will sink and shrivel. And we can’t blame God for that.’
‘I couldn’t bear to live in a sealess land,’ said Jennifer. Strange how attached she felt to the ocean now.
‘We’d die. We’re all made of water. We can’t exist without the sun, air, or water. So, how’s your work progressing? Is Professor Mac pleased? When do you go and sit in a classroom?’
‘Not till after the baby is born. Four weeks of lectures and then back to wrap up and hopefully finish my paper.’
‘You’ll have the full team back on deck and not just a silly old codger like me to keep you company. But I’ll be off in a few days to visit some of the offspring. In the Cook Islands. I’ll be back before that baby arrives though. Want to be here to wet its head.’
‘Great. I suppose the big event’s going to hit me in a rush. At the moment I’m concerned about getting through my uni work.’
‘You’ll do it, kiddo. No stopping you now. Isobel is counting on you to follow in her footsteps.’
‘Oh, I doubt that! But if I could work in this field – and be paid – well, that would be just perfect!’
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Jenny, luv . . . the last paper was brilliant, really good. May be a touch ‘flowery’, meaning too descriptive in places for academic purposes, and if you draw a conclusion, back it up with references, footnotes and other examples, the more the better. Think like a marker. If your research gives you two roads to travel down, then quickly explain why you did not choose the other (just to show you have considered it) before explaining why you chose the path you did. Impresses the markers. I’m amazed with what you’ve got through. You’re on target. Finish reading through this next lot I’m attaching and if you can keep close tabs on the nests you’re monitoring that’s great, but don’t sit up at night and catch a chill. Look after yourself. We’ll all be back in time for the baby’s arrival. Glad to know things are sorted with Blair. Move on, girl. Have the usual dramas here but my missus is taking me away for a break to visit the rellies. Some break! Miss the island, miss you. I’m very proud of what you’re doing, as is Isobel. You’re more than a special student, you’re ‘family’. Lotsa luv, Mac.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
My darling girl . . . how is our little girl coming along? Dancing a lot?? Conference has been enormous! I think I made an impression. (Impassioned, the press said.) Hope the government bodies will act. El Presidente was charming, hosted a reception for me to do some private lobbying for funding for the work of our foundation. Ah, so much talking, talking. I long to come back to your little island and sit at Gideon’s feet and watch the sea and listen to Mac strum his guitar, and hear your news. Congratulations on your hardwork, it will pay off for you. Be strong. Soon you’ll hold your little baby and your world will never be the same again – even more wonderful! I am going to change my schedule to get back to Australia a few weeks early. A bientôt, bella bella. Is. xxx
Distant shrieks and calls of birds woke Jennifer early one morning. Half awake, she listened to the unfamiliar calls, then they faded and she heard the usual sounds. The mutton birds were rustling, grumping, shuffling, gradually rising from sleep to swoop out to sea for a day’s fishing. Seeing the birds over the ocean, graceful diving boomerangs skimming waves, shooting skywards, quick and graceful, Jennifer could never equate them with the shrieking moaning lumps of feathers and sharp beaks she stumbled over on the night paths.
She stepped outside. The dawn air was balmy soft, after a cold night it hinted at a hot day. She decided to walk along the beach at Coral Point to check the nests she was monitoring. She thought back to the stranded mother turtle and wondered yet again at the powerful instinct that drove the female turtles to return to the spot of their own birth. Would her baby feel the pull of this island, this dot in the ocean attached to the iconic reef?
Jennifer began to worry about the birth of her child. Supportive as her island friends were, it was scary to contemplate going through childbirth alone. Blair hadn’t been keen on the idea of participating in the process but had agreed to go along to classes as the time approached. Jennifer was concerned about preparing for this event. What to do? The idea of staying on the mainland in order to do the birthing classes on her own didn’t appeal. As she did so often these days she decided to seek Isobel’s advice. She’d email her later. Having made that decision, she dressed and headed briskly for the beach.
The high tide had left a waving fingermark at its peak, the exposed sand smooth, damp, unmarked, shining palely in the first light of day. As Jennifer walked she saw in the distance the rumpled fresh sand leading to the water’s edge.
She hurried to the turtle nest, but it took her a few shocked moments to fully grasp what had happened. The nest had been crudely dug open and all that remained were several dozen eggs, broken, trampled, with the crushed bodies of small, baby turtles. It was horrible. And where were the hundred other eggs, or had they hatched and escaped?
She searched quickly around the dune and sadly realised from the footprints and spade marks that someone had raided the nest and it was impossible to find any light trail marks from hatchlings in the sand. But why? And who would do such a thing? She raced along the beach and saw several guests from the resort crouching down. She saw a camera flash and a torch focused on the sand. Further up towards the dune slight movement caught her eye and with relief she saw tiny dark shapes spilling from a nest mound. Minuscule hatchlings, the size of her palm, were racing sure and true towards the water. The lead ones angled off towards the torchlight, their flippers propelling them in a swimming motion through the sand.
‘Turn off the light,’ called Jennifer. ‘They’re programmed to head towards the moon.’ The tourists switched off the torch and for a moment the little turtles stopped, confused. ‘On an island the moon is always over water, that’s their guiding light,’ said Jennifer.
‘Point them to the sea then,’ said one of the visitors.
‘No, you’re not allowed to help them.’
The little turtles could smell the water and redirected their energy to making a dash for the ocean.
‘Oh my God, look out there,’ said one of the women. ‘Sharks.’
‘They’re reef sharks. Harmless to us, but they’re just waiting to feed on the hatchlings,’ said Jennifer despairingly. ‘And once the sun is up the birds will be after them. Go on, hurry, hurry,’ she urged the stream of miniature turtles as they now poured down the sand from the nest.
‘How awful,’ said the woman to Jennifer. ‘It’s hard to let nature take its course. How many will survive?’
‘Sometimes less than one per cent. Yo
u didn’t see anyone disturbing their nests, did you?’
‘Goodness no, we’ve been walking along the water’s edge. Who’d want to hurt such delicate little things? Hard to believe they’re going to grow into those huge turtles.’
‘Let’s hope they do,’ said Jennifer sadly as she continued on her way to where she knew the nests were. Around the island other nests had been roughly, hastily disturbed and the eggs and hatchlings taken. Many eggs about to hatch had been crushed underfoot.
She was shaken and upset. She went back along the beach as the sun rose and saw Sandy and Mick out on the reef returning coral and seaweed samples to their original sites.
She longed to talk to Mac but knew he was on holiday with his family. The fate of the baby turtles disturbed her and made her fearful about her own child. Would her baby be all right? What would the birth be like? She looked down at her engorged belly, wondering how the hell the baby was going to get out. It seemed a physical impossibility.
She returned home to make breakfast and was surprised to find Rosie looking for her.
‘Can I grab a coffee with you?’
‘What’s up?’ asked Jennifer. ‘Come inside.’
‘It’s nothing too serious but we felt we’d better tell you. Bev rang me to say your mother isn’t too well. Been off colour and she’s had some blood tests done. She didn’t want to worry you but Bev called me and we decided you should know.’
‘Oh God. What kind of tests? For what?’
‘Bev isn’t sure. She reckons your mother has the martyr act down pretty good but, just in case she isn’t crying wolf, we couldn’t forgive ourselves if we knew and didn’t tell you.’
‘Thanks, Rosie. And thank Beverly. I’d better go over and see Mum.’
‘Bev said wait till she can find out what’s happening. You don’t want to be exposed to anything, and there’s not a lot you can do anyway. She’s resting at home.’
‘But who’s looking after her? Mum wouldn’t like strangers trooping into the flat unless it was spotless. She’s the type who’ll drag herself out of a sickbed to wash the floors before the doctor visits,’ said Jennifer.
‘There’s a seat on the chopper this afternoon, but Blair is the other passenger. How do you feel about that?’
‘It’ll be all right. I’ll throw a few things together. Trouble is, I hate leaving my nests. I’m so upset, several of them have been looted. Looking at the marks I’d say they’ve been stolen. I can’t believe it.’
‘God, that’s dreadful. Years back before the resort was built people used to come in and take the eggs. And before that there was the damned turtle-soup cannery. I’ll get Patch and Doyley to keep an eye out for you.’
‘Do you think they’d come back?’
‘Probably not. Whoever it was would know we’d be watching,’ said Rosie. ‘The turtles are a big tourist attraction.’
‘They probably thought there was no one at the research station and it wouldn’t be noticed.’ Jennifer began to wonder if there was some sinister plan behind this raid. ‘Who’d do this?’
‘Kids, a collector, a pet shop, who knows. Don’t worry. The majority of nests are intact, aren’t they? We’ll get a roster going amongst the staffies for a few nights. Till you get back.’
‘Thanks, Rosie. I’ll go throw a few things in a bag. Oh, do you know what Blair is doing, when he’s coming back?’
Rosie hesitated. ‘I gather he’s packed up for London. He’s also moved his gear out of your cabin. I didn’t want to dump too much on you at once. He’ll be gone a month on leave.’
‘Oh well, he’ll be back for baby’s arrival anyway. Look, I’ll move out my stuff from the cabin, not that there’s much there. I’ve taken the few personal things I brought from Sydney. I’ll take some baby stuff over to my mother’s and put the rest at the research station. Then you can let someone else have our cabin.’
‘Would be handy, thanks for that. So what are your plans for the birth and afterwards?’ asked Rosie. Jennifer hadn’t really thought that far ahead, wrapped up as she was in her studies and research. And the baby was due in less than two months.
‘I hadn’t thought much about those details until this morning. The eggs being stolen really threw me. I guess I’ll move to Headland and stay with Mum – heaven help me – for the last two weeks or so. I’m supposed to do the pre-natal classes . . . next check-up maybe I’ll start. I doubt Blair will do those, although he said he would. And then as soon as I can after the birth I plan to come back over here to finish my uni work. The gang will be back then. I reckon I can manage a baby and my final paper.’
Rosie shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. Seems hard on you. Are you comfortable here?’ She looked around. ‘It’s cosy enough. I just worry about baby problems. The hospital isn’t just down the road.’
‘I’m not going to have a crying, sickly baby and that’s that,’ said Jennifer firmly. ‘Mac and Isobel have kids. And look at all the babysitters around the place. I even have a grandfather in Gideon lined up.’
Rosie thought she saw a pain in Jennifer’s eyes, despite her cheerful words. ‘Y o u don’t have a lot of family around, do you?’
‘Mum, Vi and Don are it really. But Mum won’t come over here so I’ll make a weekly visit to her. That’s the plan anyway.’ Jennifer smiled.
On the chopper she didn’t ask Blair where he had moved his belongings, where the luggage for his trip was or if Susie was going with him. Jennifer and Blair got out of the chopper at the resort reception at Headland Bay wharf.
‘As you’ve parked the car at your mother’s I’ll drop you off, if you like,’ said Blair. ‘I’m here for a day or so before flying out of Brisbane.’
‘Thanks.’ She waved to Bob. ‘I’ll let you know when I’m going back in case there’s a seat.’
The pilot gave her a thumbs-up, watching the couple walk to the car. Man, they had certainly gone their separate ways. But it must be tough on Jennifer, he thought. Still, good on her for not hanging on to a miserable marriage and for doing her own thing. From what he’d heard there was no other bloke on the scene. Though Blair had that Susie in the wings. She was a go-getter and ambitious. At least they were in the same industry. Jennifer and Blair seemed an odd match.
‘Sorry to hear about Christina. How crook is she?’ asked Blair in the car.
‘I don’t know. Do you think you could see her?’ said Jennifer.
‘Oh for God’s sake, Jennifer. And say what? She hates my guts.’
‘There’s no need to make it worse. Walking out without so much as a word to her . . . I can just hear her.’
‘You’re leaving me, remember. And, besides, I’m not dropping off the planet. I’m not handing over the upbringing of my kid to your mother,’ snapped Blair.
‘She is the grandmother. And your parents have rights too. I just don’t want to hear her badmouthing you when you could easily pop in, see how she is.’
‘Okay. I’ll do it. But I don’t really want you there. I’ll go upstairs, take your bag and then leave. I hope you know what you’re doing, Jenny.’ His previous coolness and awkwardness on the flight from the island melted for a moment.
‘I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?’ said Jennifer. ‘But you’re right. It’s my decision.’
She never knew what transpired between Blair and Christina and for all any of them knew it could well be the last time they’d see each other. Blair came downstairs wearing a grim expression.
‘How was it? How is she?’ asked Jennifer.
‘Well, she’s not as sick as you think. That’s one tough old bird. Gave me a few home truths, and I doubt there’ll be any more get togethers. Don’t let her take over your life, Jennifer. I was never good enough for you anyway and I’ve apparently confirmed all the dreadful things husbands do to their wives. You’d better choose carefully and warn the next poor bugger that comes into your life that he’ll always be taking second place to you and your mum.’ He got into the car and pulled the door shut.
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‘That’s a long way off, and I can handle Mum,’ said Jennifer. ‘Well, this is it then.’ She stood sadly by the car with the realisation that when Blair drove away the marriage was over. She was on her own, he was going to a new life too. ‘I hope things work out for you, Blair, I really do.’ She reached in and touched his shoulder, tears in her eyes.
‘You did this, Jennifer. And I’m moving on. I hope you do the same. But no matter what, we have that baby. So . . . I’ll try to be a decent dad . . . under the circumstances.’ He briefly touched her hand resting on his shoulder. ‘Good luck, Jenny.’
She watched the car disappear, and, sighing, picked up her small bag and trudged to her mother’s bedside.
Christina looked pale and wan, though her eyes were sharp and alert. They darted to Jennifer’s belly.
‘It looks like you’re the one who should be in hospital, not me. You poor girl. What that man has put you through. Let me make you a cup of tea.’ Christina feebly threw back the bedcover.
‘No, no, Mum. I’ve come over to look after you.’
‘You didn’t come over specially. Just for me. Oh dear.’
‘What does the doctor say? And the tests, what were they for?’
‘Oh, nothing really. Course it could be anything. Heart, kidney, liver, diabetes, who knows,’ she sighed, falling back on the pillow.
Jennifer was going to ask about her symptoms but changed her mind. ‘I’ll make us some tea.’
She was almost out of the room when Christina said, ‘Probably a good thing about you and Blair. We’ll be all right, the three of us.’
Jennifer stopped, did not look back and continued into the kitchen.
‘Look in your room, Jen-Jen,’ called Christina.
There was a bassinet with frilled netting and a crocheted coverlet in bright yellow acrylic wool. Jennifer hated it. She’d planned to get a carry cot that she could move around easily. Still, while she was here this would be useful. She opened the cupboard and found a baby bath and a pile of baby items.
