Janet and Ngaire almost wet themselves laughing at the bleating ‘tough guy’. Humiliating that wanker was the best medicine Ngaire could wish for as it took away her pain the way paracetamol never could. They were still laughing when they reached the car. As Janet helped her crippled friend into the Nissan Skyline, Ngaire kissed her full on the lips. It was electrifying, she had never felt her juices flow as much when a bloke kissed her. Janet didn’t know what to do as she looked into the fiery eyes of her best and most dependable friend. Without thinking, she kissed her back. This was better than drugs.
“You had your eyes closed when you kissed me, you mutt,” joked Ngaire.
“Yes, I know, I was enjoying it too much.” Janet felt like a schoolgirl again, caught kissing the boys for 20 cents behind the school gym. “Give us another and I’ll guarantee you’ll close yours too.”
They had known each other for more years than either cared to remember. Neither had ever felt the need to express their emotions to each other like this before. This was new, bold and risqué a drug neither wanted to give up. Janet was right, Ngaire did keep her eyes closed the third time.
33. Questions
“God, I’m so glad you’re OK, you certainly gave us all a fright. Whatever caused you to panic like that?” asked Nadine Graham-Collins.
“I don’t really know. I was just listening to that report about the flu on the news and I thought back to my time at Porton Down. They were working on the 1918 Spanish flu, trying to determine why it was so deadly,” lied Tony
Nadine looked at her husband, wondering if what he was saying was the real reason for his anxiety attack. Although the specialist had explained that it was a severe panic attack, and, that his heart was not involved, she couldn’t help wondering if Tony and the specialist were holding something back. He had never had any problems with stress before, even when he was under pressure at Porton Down.
Something about this “anxiety attack” was wrong. She couldn’t believe that Tony could collapse like he had from just a news item about flu. He must be ill, he had to be, what was he holding back? Their marriage had been very successful and one of its cornerstones was honesty, but now Tony wasn’t being honest with himself, or her, and she resented that.
“Your granddad Jack died of a heart attack, didn’t he?” Nadine asked.
“Yes.”
“So do you think you’ve got a bad heart?”
“The specialist didn’t think so.”
Nadine paused puzzled by Tony’s lack of concern.
“I think I’ll ring the doctor tomorrow and arrange for one of those well-person check-ups. I saw a poster about it the other day when I was in the surgery with Naomi. $150 is a cheap price to pay, to be sure you aren’t going to drop dead next week.”
A fleeting moment of guilt flashed through Tony’s mind.
“I won’t argue with you, if it’ll put your mind at rest.”
Tony hated going to the doctor’s and would nearly always find a way of avoiding an appointment. So even his acquiescence to her suggestion she found was suspicious.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? You’re not being honest with me Tony, are you?”
Although Tony blushed with embarrassment, he persisted with his story.
“No, I’m OK, there’s nothing wrong with me. It was just anxiety, that’s all, honest.”
Nadine had caught him out. He always blushed and had that innocent little boy look whenever she caught him trying to hide something.
“Tony, you’re lying to me, I can tell. So, spill the beans, what is wrong with you?”
Tony’s face hardened. “I’m telling you the truth, there’s nothing wrong. Let it go, love.”
Nadine was still not satisfied. Although she wouldn’t ask him directly again, she knew that she would discover his little secret eventually. Tony gave her one of his patronising smiles, and that infuriated her.
“Tony you’re a prize pratt do you know that?” She banged her coffee cup on the table. “I don’t know why I bother with you sometimes.” As she rose from the table and walked off in a huff, he realised that this issue was not going to go away as easily as he had hoped.
“Bollocks,” he muttered.
***
Lisa Davis had been in Auckland for three days, sorting out the sale of her sister’s apartment. She had just deposited $656 000 in her bank account; the auction had earned over $100 000 more than she had hoped for. As she got off the plane in Nelson, she saw Scott in the Sky Lounge and blew him a kiss. Away only three days, yet her heart had ached for Scott, she had missed him so much. When she got into the terminal building Scott was waiting for her at the arrival’s barrier. Lisa was so happy she almost jumped into his arms.
“Gosh I’ve missed you, Scott. The last three days seemed like a month. I do love you.”
“I love you too, Lisa.”
And as their lips gently touched, they both knew they would never be apart again. Lisa had brought such pain and sorrow into their relationship, and it had been hard for Scott to forgive her. But he had, and now, 12 months after Lisa had been released from prison, he was never going to let her go again.
Scott picked up her bag and led Lisa off to collect the car. “I’ve booked us a table at The Honest Lawyer tonight. You up for a meal and a glass of wine?”
“Well, I don’t know really. I’m now a very wealthy woman you know. A lady of means, can you handle that?”
“I think I could manage that. If you don’t mind dating a pauper.”
“Your parents aren’t going to be there this time, are they?”
“No, just you and me. We can go out for a meal on our own you know, we are consenting adults,” Scott quipped.
Lisa skipped beside Scott all the way back to their car. “We should go back home and wash and change first,” said Scott, more as a statement than a question.
“Ooh, this is going to be a special night, isn’t it? Ooh,” she repeated in her very best little girl voice, “Scott’s taking me for a romantic dinner, plying me with yummy food and alcohol. So, what will he do after that I wonder…? Perhaps a walk in the moonlight, or perhaps a night of passion…”
“Have you had a few drinks on the plane, or do you always speak to men this way?”
“No, my love I am completely sober, drop a not of inkahol has lisp my past!”
“Come on you daft sod, let’s get you washed and tidied up.”
“Mmm, you’re going to bathe me in expensive oils and dress me in sheer silk, I can tell.”
“Not exactly what I had in mind, but it sounds good. The table’s booked for 7.30, time enough for some passion, I think. So, get in the car my love before, I change my mind.”
“I’m there already,” she squeaked, as she quickly jumped into the car.
***
On that frosty morning in March the Adriatic was at its most enchanting, with not a single ripple disturbing its glass-like surface. The sun was barely above the eastern horizon and the few clouds above appeared to be cloned from others in the distance where the sea and the sky were a single entity. Only the swish of the bow wave coursing down the side of the ship pierced the sacred silence. When Captain Gregor Bukovac looked behind at the bubbling wake of white water, he saw ten or more gulls riding the updraft at the stern of the vessel. These were the sort of mornings that drew sailors back to the sea, the drug from which they could never truly break free.
By 9.00am the sun had risen enough in the eastern sky to herald the beginning of another hot day. Captain Bukovac removed his cap and mopped the sweat from his brow. Bukovac, in his mid-fifties, was barrel-chested and hirsute. Like many sailors of his generation, he sported a perfectly groomed beard that matched what remained of the hair on his head. Bukovac was lovingly known amongst his crew as “špiljski medvjed,” the cave bear. The father of seven children, four boys and three girls, he and his wife Tina loved children so much that they had adopted two others, a brother and sister from a Romanian orphanage. Bukovac also
acted as father to many of his crew, as in times of trouble or grief they would often turn to him. Bukovac was the perfect replacement for Goran Sumovich.
“I think that this last voyage will be very therapeutic for me. I will have all the privileges of a captaincy, but none of the responsibility,” said Goran, “It will be like a holiday cruise.”
Bukovac nodded.
“I’m very grateful that you agreed to accompany us as far as New Zealand. You being with us on this leg makes the transition from your captaincy to mine much easier. I know that the men appreciate it, too. So, thank you Captain Sumovich.”
Sumovich merely patted Bukovac on the back, in confirmation of his friend’s promotion.
With hindsight, Sumovich deeply regretted not retiring earlier. If he had retired just one year ago, he would have been at his wife Sara’s side when she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. For even though Dino had flown him to Trieste from New Zealand to be with her, the gesture was two and a half days too late. He would also have been with her when she had started her course of chemotherapy and radiotherapy. But he wasn’t. He had realised too late that life was like a handful of sand, because now, in his older years, what had been lost through his fingers had become a greater proportion than the sand that remained. Regrets of follies past, looking over one’s shoulder and not on the road ahead, robs life’s traveller of a true appreciation of what is to come. Sara had recovered from the mastectomy and the hellish chemo- and radiotherapies, but he should still have been there when her hair fell out or when the vomiting became too much to bear. Now, this was his last voyage. From now on, he would forever be by Sara’s side. He was determined that he, Sara, and Anica would face the future together and enjoy what was to come. Once the Olga Tovic was docked in New Zealand, he would walk away from her and never look back. Although Sumovich had tried to convince Dino Sutic that Gregor Bukovac was ready, so that one last journey was unnecessary, Dino had insisted that he make this one final voyage.
Both Goran and Sara Sumovich had heard about the death of young Terezija Korošec, and both had cried for Natalija and Matej’s loss. It was a terrible tragedy, one that the Americans would depersonalise, calling it “collateral damage.” Goran was sick of “collateral damage,” he was fed up with the innocent suffering for the guilty. He had tried to imagine what he would feel like if it had been Sara, Anica or one of his other children who had died. It was an unanswerable question. Courage comes in the preparedness to face the next challenge. The Sumovich family knew all about sufferance and resilience. Many times, their lives had been shaken by tragedy, but together they had endured, and together they looked forwards to a brighter future.
Goran was tired of fighting; he wanted to live his own life once again. He wanted to walk with Sara through the forests surrounding Snežnik, east of Trieste, or in the Julijske Alps. He wanted to picnic beneath the blossom-laden cherry trees in their own orchard. He longed to lie back in the tall summer grass and listen to the insects and birds, he longed to once more appreciate the peace and tranquillity of fishing off the islands of Cres and Krk, or just put his feet up beside the fireplace at Christmas and see the joy in the eyes of his grandchildren when they opened their presents. Goran had now set his sights on the many simple pleasures that he had missed whilst at sea.
“Goran? Are you still with us? You seem in another world.”
Goran smiled.
“Yes, my friend, I’m still here. I was just wondering if I would miss the sea. Certainly, mornings like this, calm and still, with the mountains sprinkled with snow, these are scenes that I will never forget. However, all the other times when the gale blows, and the waves break over the bow, when the ship groans and complains as she wallows in the troughs, these are the experiences I will try to forget.”
“Have you ever regretted being at sea?”
“Oh yes, many times. When a friend dies or when a baby is born, I have often thought I should have had a land-based job, but those feelings soon evaporate. My life has always been the sea. Sara believes that I have salt water in my veins and that the sea is a mistress that will never let me go. But I am old and just a little weary of a life of isolation from my loved ones. I know that it’s time for me to finally go ashore.”
Neither man spoke.
***
The Honest Lawyer country pub, just outside Nelson, was packed as Lisa and Scott were seated at their reserved table.
“Glad I booked; I don’t think we would have got a table else.”
“Sure, I’m sick of you always taking me to McDonalds.”
“So ungrateful wench, thou does not appreciate thy master’s table…. Oh, bugger it I can’t keep up olde English. Anyway, I can’t remember the last time we had McDonalds.”
“No, we haven’t been out for ages.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. We went to O’Brian’s for a meal a few weeks ago.”
“I know, just keeping you on your toes.”
Lisa peeked over her menu, impish laughter in her eyes. “I’ll have the Guinness pie I think.”
“Are you sure? I thought you might like the crayfish?”
“Of course, I’m rich now I can afford that? Are we celebrating something?”
“Yes, we are, I’ve been promoted. Gerald Matthews, the senior partner, told me today that I’ll be taking Paul Burgess’ position when he leaves at the end of this month. I’ll now be involved with some of the most prestigious contracts the company has. Who knows, in a couple of years they might even offer me a partnership.”
“That’s brilliant Scott, well done. So, we need something special to celebrate your success.”
Soon they were toasting Scott’s promotion with one of their favourites – a Pinot Gris from the Kumeu River vineyard.
As Lisa sipped her wine she said, “What do you think we should do with the money from Sharon’s apartment?”
“That’s your money love, you should invest it.”
“But I know as much about investments as Moses knew about microwave ovens. I’ve no idea what I should do with it.”
“Well, it’s in the bank earning interest, so there isn’t any rush yet.”
The dinner was magnificent, the crayfish, the wine, the company, two lovers once separated by the grief of a child lost. Over the past year some of Lisa’s natural beauty had returned, her face no longer looked drawn and haggard and though the flesh on her high cheekbones remained a little thin, they had been gently rounded by the growth of new tissue around her eyes and mouth. When Scott remembered what Lisa had looked like before her methamphetamine addiction, it was her striking blue eyes that he missed most. Now, as he gazed at the girl across the table from him, he saw that those magical eyes had returned. At the time of her conviction grief had hardened his heart towards Lisa, but time had healed all. Now Scott loved her more than he had before. She had taken them both to the edge of a life of hatred and blame. But Scott had remained true to the hope that the woman trapped by the drug abuse would one day return to him. He was sure she had.
“Would madam care for any dessert?” asked Scott.
“No kind sir, I have had sufficient.”
After the bill had been paid, they drove to the beach. It was a lovely night, warm, with a soft cooling breeze. As Lisa and Scott walked along the boardwalk, crickets chirruped in the bush behind them. Once on the sand, they kicked off their shoes and danced towards the sea. Above them millions of stars filled the darkness with pinpoints of light, like the glow-worms of a Waitomo cave. Hand in hand they paddled in the surf of the incoming tide. Resting her head on Scott’s shoulder, Lisa remembered with fondness the walks they had taken along Ocean Beach in Mount Maunganui. It seemed a lifetime ago. It was on such a walk that she had told Scott that she was pregnant. Life then was filled with joy and hope. Little did either of them know what horrors were to follow. This evening, was one of those magical moments when they were alone in the world, embraced by their love for one another and the promise of their future happiness.
“I love you Lisa, stay with me forever.”
“I love you too Scott, of course I’ll stay with you. I can’t think of anyone else I could spend the rest of my life with.”
They kissed again. Scott was in no doubt that Lisa was the love of his life, there was no residual pain from the past, only the determination that nothing would separate them again.
“Lisa, will you marry me?”
Silently her mouth copied those four little words as they echoed in her heart. They were the same four words she had longed dreamed about.
Crystal Ice Page 39
