In At the Deep End

by Penelope Janu

  I shove the assignments I’ve been marking into my bag and stand. ‘Hello, Professor.’

  He nods but doesn’t say anything. There are papers all over his desk. And even looking at them upside down I can see they have nothing to do with physics. As soon as I’m seated he picks up a wad of pages held together by a bull clip. He reads from the transcript of evidence I gave to the maritime inquiry into the sinking of The Watch.

  ‘“The captain’s conduct was exemplary. I lied when I told him there was room for me on the second lifeboat. I did it because I felt responsible—the winches had failed on the other lifeboats, and the ones we managed to get into the water were overloaded already”.’

  Tan flicks through more pages, summarising and quoting and giving me pained looks.

  ‘“Yes, I was aware of the satellite problems we’d had on our previous trip. No, I didn’t get advice from anyone on how they ought to be addressed”.’

  He purses his lips when he gets to the next section.

  ‘“Yes, we were one life jacket short, even though we should have had at least ten extras on board. Captain McLeish had ordered new jackets and asked me to collect them. I’d forgotten to do that. It slipped my mind to do a gear audit before we left Sydney”.’

  He finishes with a quote from the final day of proceedings.

  ‘“It was too late to avoid the storm by the time I’d got accurate weather readings. Yes, I am now aware that, had I downloaded appropriate software and taken other precautions, we may never have lost The Watch.”’

  ‘This is sworn evidence,’ he says. ‘You appreciate the potential consequences of lying to the inquiry? You could be prosecuted for perjury. And contempt.’

  I’m trying to hide my nervousness from Tan. I lift my chin. ‘Who says I lied?’

  He slaps the pages onto his desk. ‘Don’t insult my intelligence!’

  As if raising his voice is some sort of signal, his PA opens the door. She brings in a coffee plunger and two cups and saucers and puts them on the desk. Tan sends her home for the day. He pours the coffee and pushes a cup and saucer across the desk towards me. I don’t like black coffee, but there doesn’t seem to be any milk.

  ‘I encountered one of the documentary producers last week,’ Tan says. ‘She told me she often sees Drew at Avalon, and at his care home.’ He’s speaking more calmly now, but he still has a steely edge to his voice. ‘I’m sure she didn’t realise she was giving you away when she told me his dementia was diagnosed last December, before The Watch left for Antarctica.’

  ‘What are you getting at, Professor?’

  He takes off his glasses and cleans the lenses, then puts them on again. ‘What I’m getting at is that I’ve pieced everything together. All the elements that never added up—your interviews with the captain on the Torrens, the inconsistencies in your evidence at the inquiry. Drew was methodical in everything he did. And in your own way, you are too. You wouldn’t have forgotten to pick up life jackets or download software. It was Drew, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was my responsibility.’

  Tan acts as if I haven’t spoken. ‘The type of dementia Drew probably has could have affected his ability to function months before he or anyone else knew of his impairment. I’m cognisant of the type of confusion and confabulation that could have occurred. He would have believed that something had happened because it should have happened.’

  I hold myself back from responding. I have no idea where Tan is going with this.

  He looks over his glasses. ‘I’ve confirmed a number of things with other members of the crew. They weren’t sure what had happened with Drew, but they suspected you were lying to protect him. Their loyalty to you ensured they kept quiet about it.’

  I take a deep breath. ‘Even if you’re right, none of this matters. The inquiry is over. No one is interested anymore.’

  Tan purses his lips, and taps one of his folders. ‘You’re wrong about that. Fundraising for The Adélie isn’t going well. You’re still popular with the public and other environmentalists. The Scott and Amundsen angle is attracting a lot of interest from schools and community groups. But the money they’re contributing isn’t nearly enough.’

  ‘Corporate sponsorship?’

  ‘Is a problem. As are the universities, and the private benefactors who have been generous in the past. They want reassurances before they hand over their money. You lost the last ship, so why should they give you money for another?’

  I take a breath. ‘Fair enough, I suppose. Doesn’t Per’s involvement help?’

  ‘On the rare occasions he makes an appearance, yes. But our real problem is you. You’re the public face of the foundation.’

  ‘I can’t change what happened on The Watch.’

  He smiles stiffly. ‘Except that it didn’t happen like you said it did, did it? You lied to the inquiry.’

  ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere. Why did you want to see me?’

  He takes a sip of coffee. Then he looks at me over his glasses again. ‘We have to correct the record for the foundation’s sake, and so that we get The Adélie. You have to tell the truth about Drew.’

  ‘No!’ When I slam my cup into its saucer, coffee slops onto the desk. I fumble in my bag for a tissue. As I mop up the drips I try to calm myself down. I have to be measured or Tan won’t listen to me. I meet his eyes. ‘Drew deserves our protection, Professor. He’s earned it. He dedicated his life to The Watch and its causes.’

  Tan tidies his folders again. ‘Drew made errors of judgement because he was unwell. We’ll approach the maritime authorities and make sure they understand the circumstances. You were traumatised after a near-death experience in Antarctica. You were grieving over Drew’s diagnosis. And you were the only one harmed by your evidence.’

  ‘I said no! It’s not the way I want Drew remembered.’

  Tan links his hands together and rests them on the desk. ‘We need The Adélie,’ he says. ‘So the ship and her crew can engage people like The Watch did. But we’ll never get her permanently if we don’t change our strategy. We have to recast your image—as a competent and worthy successor to your parents. There are all sorts of things we can do. A profile in one of the weekend magazines will be a start. How you risked everything, your reputation and your credibility, to protect a beloved mentor. And how you’re back on track, fighting for the things that are important to you and the planet.’

  I jump to my feet. ‘Are you deaf? I said no!’

  He stands too. Purses his lips.

  ‘Sorry I yelled,’ I say. ‘But … I’ll work harder with the corporate people and the donors who’ve been generous in the past. Show them I’m competent. I’m going to Palau. That will help.’

  He raises his brows. ‘The commander has given his permission?’

  ‘I can swim.’

  He methodically stacks his folders, forming two neat piles on the desk.

  ‘Please, Professor. Just give me some time.’

  Finally he looks up. ‘Very well, Harry. But not too much time, until the end of the year at the latest. I want The Adélie, and if I have to un-tarnish your reputation to get her, then that is what I shall do.’

  CHAPTER

  34

  Per. Helga told me you emailed her, and asked how I was going in the pool. Please direct your questions to me. Harry

  Harriet. I tried that. You told me to mind my own business.

  Helga said you’d been sick. Did you catch a cold at the beach?

  I’m always warm. Remember?

  I’m doing another post about Scott and Amundsen. Any ideas?

  Amundsen was trustworthy and dependable, with weak communication skills. Scott took unacceptable risks. He was a good leader, but his judgement was poor.

  ‘Liam? Do you think I have poor judgement?’

  We’re walking up the beach towards the dunes. I swim with the Amazons every morning, and since Liam’s been on night shift I go to the beach with him in the afternoons. He surfs while I swim in th
e pool—he doesn’t need to watch me anymore. When the waves are small we paddle in the surf.

  He grimaces. ‘Are you quoting Polarman?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve been on your best behaviour for the last week and a half. Why don’t you let him know about that? He might worry less about you.’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘Are you going to tell him about Drew?’

  ‘Why would I do that? Per would hate that I lied. Maybe that’d be even worse in his eyes than my supposed incompetence losing The Watch.’

  ‘Drew wouldn’t have wanted you to lie either. He was sick, that’s why he made mistakes. So stop covering for him. You did the same for your father.’

  Dad wasn’t capable of supporting me emotionally after the accident because of his brain injury, but I knew that the man he had been couldn’t have loved me more. And I’d promised Mum I’d look after him. As for Drew, there’s nothing I’ve done for him that he wouldn’t have done for me.

  We’re at the steps to the dunes now. Before I turn to face Liam, I go up a couple of risers to get a height advantage. ‘I know what I’m doing, Liam.’

  He shakes his head. ‘You sure about that? You take things on for people. Your father, and Drew.’

  I poke him in the chest. ‘I’d stick up for you too.’

  ‘Yeah. Got that. But what about Tan? He’s being an arsehole threatening you, but you’re still supporting him, attending events most nights.’

  ‘I’m supporting the foundation, not him.’

  He raises his brows. ‘The foundation comprises sponsors, thousands of regular donors and a million or so kids. That adds up to … what? Around ten per cent of the population? No wonder you never take the rubbish out.’

  There’s an ice-cream wrapper on the sand. I pick it up and wave it at him.

  ‘Fix up your own life before you meddle in mine. You’re going away to Byron soon. Is Rachael going with you?’

  Liam doesn’t say anything. He walks past me and keeps walking until we get to the garden. Then he turns and faces me. ‘You told me to fix up my life,’ he says. ‘Then you referred to Rachael. Care to explain the connection?’

  ‘I can’t. That would be breaching a confidence.’

  ‘So? Have you been talking to her?’

  ‘You are such an idiot! Why won’t you commit?’

  ‘Does she want that?’

  I cross my arms over my chest. ‘I’m not at liberty to say.’

  We stand near the washing line after we’ve hung up our wetsuits. The kookaburra is perched on the railing. He’s an adolescent now; shades of teal blue peep through the cream and grey feathers on his wings. He looks hopefully at Liam, who ignores him, and puts a hand on my arm.

  ‘C’mon, Harry. Give.’

  He follows me up the steps to the deck and we sit side by side, staring through the foliage to the ocean beyond.

  I nudge his knee with my foot. ‘Casual sex, at this stage in your relationship, is not what Rachael wants.’

  He laughs and pokes me in the arm. ‘You had sex with Polarman. Using my condoms, no less Was that appropriate at this stage in your relationship?’

  Every night when I go to my room I imagine Per is waiting for me. He’s sprawled on my bed. His arms are linked behind his head.

  ‘This is about you, not me. You have to be honest with Rachael. She deserves that.’

  ‘Does she want kids? All that palaver?’

  ‘I think so.’

  He shrugs. ‘That’s not for me. I’ll talk to her. Now back to you—what’s going on with Polarman?’

  ‘He’s at sea.’

  ‘Yeah, like that’s what I want to know about.’ He gets up and stretches. ‘I saw you a few times, Harry, after you broke up with Grant. At the surf club in Newport, and the pub.’

  Liam never looked at me disapprovingly when I was pretending to have fun with whatever man I’d picked up for the night. It was worse than that. He looked … unhappy for me.

  I stand and face him. ‘At first I was regaining control because Grant had let me down. And then I was punishing myself for being so stupid. But since then … there hasn’t been anyone I’ve ever really wanted.’

  ‘Until Polarman?’

  ‘He thinks I’m high-risk and nothing but trouble. And maybe he’s right. Maybe, so far as it applies to men, my judgement is poor.’

  ‘I doubt Polarman wanted you to question your judgement in regards to your feelings for him. And high-risk could be a good thing if it means you’ll give him a chance.’

  It’s been ten days since Per left. Nobody’s bossed me around, talked about glaciers, or held my hand. The beach feels different without him—the salty breezes, the way the waves race each other to shore, and the early morning light as it dances on the surface of the ocean.

  The Watch was anchored off the West Australian coast in the year I turned twelve. Dad, Drew and I spent long days scuba diving in an underwater cage. One morning I unlatched the door and dangled fish guts from the end of my flipper to attract a great white shark. Dad was filming, facing the other way. He nearly had a heart attack when he turned around and saw a shark barrelling towards us. Drew laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe into his mouthpiece. He had to signal Mum to take us up.

  A few weeks later I grabbed a dolphin’s dorsal fin near the reefs off Shoalwater and let him carry me out to sea. Mum wasn’t even aware I was out of my bunk. She happened to hear me squealing, went to investigate and spotted the wake that trailed behind me. She followed me in the outboard dinghy and hauled me on board.

  ‘Harriet is grounded!’ she said to Dad when we got back to The Watch. Drew laughed at that too, because we were about to head off on a three-month voyage.

  I’ll never be fearless in the water like I used to be. I can’t imagine scuba diving or swimming in open waters. But I’m determined to snorkel the reefs in Palau. Saturday and Sunday I’ll be hiking with Malcolm Curtis. Monday and Tuesday I’ll swim with the Amazons. Then I’ll call Per.

  He thinks I’m reckless. I’ll have to prove to him I’m not.

  He thinks I’m a liar. That worries me. When we were at the foundation dinner he said you’re truthful, or you’re not. I’ll try to be truthful from now on.

  He thinks I’m afraid. The only thing I’ve been fearful of lately is losing him.

  He needs to trust me, and trust that I’m strong. Will he nod abruptly when he sees me swimming laps? Will he hold my hand on the beach? If the waves are small I’ll lead him into the surf. We can tread water. I’ll kiss his salty mouth.

  I shouldn’t have sent him away like I did. I’ll do what Liam suggested. I’ll give him a chance.

  CHAPTER

  35

  The overnight mists have dampened the eucalypts; their leaves glisten brightly in the early morning sunlight. The escarpment glows red and burnt orange in the distance.

  ‘How much further, Harry? I need a break.’

  Malcolm Curtis is in his late thirties. He’s full of himself, and used to bossing people around. And if he has trekked the Kokoda Track and hiked at Machu Picchu like he says he has, someone else was carrying his pack, organising his gear, erecting his tent and feeding him, because he seems to have no idea how to do anything for himself.

  ‘Another twenty kilometres in total,’ I say, smiling broadly like it’ll be a stroll to the boardroom for him. ‘But once we’re out of the valley we can rest.’

  We’ll be climbing most of the day, up towards Narrow Neck, and then Katoomba, where I left my car. We could’ve done an easier route but Malcolm insisted he wanted a challenge—to get his money’s worth for the $10 000 he paid for my company.

  After dinner last night he patted the space next to him. ‘C’mon Harry,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Keep me warm?’

  Billionaire or not, the thought of even taking his hand turned my stomach. I don’t want anyone touching me except for Per.

  ‘I’m making hot chocolate,’ I said, adjusting the
billy can on the fire. ‘That will keep you warm.’

  It’s clear by 2 pm that I’m stuck with Malcolm for a second night. We’re only three hours away from Katoomba but I don’t trust him to pick up the pace, and there’s nowhere suitable to pitch our tents in the last couple of hours of the hike. To make matters worse he’s got blisters, even though he promised me he’d worn in his boots. I’ve dressed his feet a number of times but he’s still complaining about them. And the weather is closing in. I chose a route with no river crossings, but there’s a narrow creek up ahead. It’s unlikely to have much water flowing through it, even in bad weather, but I don’t want to pick my way through it in the rain.

  ‘I brought plenty of food, and we’re fine for water,’ I say, dropping my pack on the ground and surveying the clearing around us. A cliff face reaches skywards on the eastern side, and a couple of substantial boulders and a giant scribbly bark eucalypt will shelter us from the west. ‘There’s plenty of kindling around here, so I’ll make a fire as soon as I’ve pitched the tents.’ My pack must be thirty kilos—it has most of Malcolm’s stuff in it. I roll my shoulders around to loosen the knots.

  ‘Don’t you have a beacon?’ Malcolm says. ‘To get us rescued this afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s for emergencies. Do you really want a helicopter hovering overhead because you have blisters? They wouldn’t be able to land here anyway. And even if they did get to us today, they’d see we were safe and send out a team tomorrow. Then, quite reasonably, because we’re not lost and would meet them halfway, they’d complain we’d wasted their time.’

  He grumbles, and throws down his pack. ‘I was seeing friends tonight. Maybe they’ll send out a search party.’

  ‘I doubt it. I registered our walk with the rescue service. I told them we’d be back tonight but they wouldn’t do anything until tomorrow morning anyway. They’d assume there was no emergency or we’d have activated the beacon.’