Chapter 26
Just as I’m taking the photo, all the fish dart away from me. Impossibly quick, so quick that what happens doesn’t register until I’ve turned around in confusion.
Hugh has backpedalled and is hovering right behind me.
I feel fury building in my brain like a pressure cooker. He moved?! He scared away the FISH! My brain goes a thousand miles a minute. Did Hugh sabotage me on purpose? He wouldn’t dare . . . would he? But Hugh is turning around too, like he’s just as confused as I am.
Over his shoulder, I see what really spooked the fish. A massive potato cod swims close by, with Vanessa and Derek trailing behind it. Vanessa must have tapped her carabiner to call attention to the cod. Potato cod can grow up to five feet long, this one is probably about that size, and are known for being inquisitive and playful, as well as for the potato-shaped markings on their skin. Most likely, the movement of the cod, Derek and Vanessa made the fish jumpy. I watch the cod as it passes, its mouth opening and closing in cartoon fashion.
Once it’s passed Hugh turns back towards me. Slowly, he points at his chest, then his eyes, then towards the staghorn coral where the butterfly wrasse were. Then he flashes a thumbs-up, pats me on the back and swims away.
There’s no longer any doubt in my mind that Hugh saw them too. I found the butterfly wrasse. I did it! My relief is so euphoric that I start to swim away from the coral. I’m ready to be back on the boat, speeding towards Cairns. The sooner I can tell Millie, the better.
But something tugs at my thoughts, and I remember I need a picture, which I’m not confident I have. My excitement ebbs. I turn back to the coral, watching and waiting for the butterfly wrasse to return. After a few beats, I notice the movement of other divers around me, but I don’t look away. Come on , I think. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this desperate. Please – just one fish. There’s no way that the picture I took earlier will turn out, the fish darted away too quickly. I just need one clear picture , I think. I feel so frustrated that tears start to form at the edges of my eyes.
I press my fingers down on the top of my goggles and blow forcefully out of my nose to clear my mask of water. I keep watching the coral. I focus on the millions of polyps dotting its surface like pores. I can’t bear to think about the photograph on my camera that is undoubtedly blurry and completely unhelpful. Angelfish and cardinalfish and grunt swim by me. There are striped fish and spotted fish and neon fish and rainbow fish. There are no butterfly wrasse.
Miguel hovers nearby for long enough that I think he’s spotted something, but just when I turn to see, he swims away. Eventually, I hear the familiar clang of a carabiner on Vanessa’s oxygen tank. This time she’s actually calling us back. I feel a pit of desperation in my stomach that is so heavy I feel like I will sink to the bottom and never come up again. I have failed Millie. No one will take my word as gospel truth that an entire fish species is still alive. Especially since I’m not even a marine biologist.
I let myself cry.
I don’t stop crying until I am on the boat, my BCD shucked off, my weight belt littered on the floor, and my mask placed back in the communal equipment bucket. I feel silly crying in public without a snorkel to hide my tears, so I sniffle and head straight for the cabin to shower, hoping I can quell my tears by the time I’m done getting cleaned up.
‘Millie.’ Hugh’s hand is on my shoulder. It’s heavy and warm and stops me in my tracks. ‘Millie, turn around.’ His voice is gentle and commanding, and I find myself rotating to face him.
‘Oh,’ he says, when he sees my puffy, swollen face and bloodshot eyes. ‘But you saw them.’ He brings a thumb to my cheek and wipes away a tear. He sounds tired, but not angry.
‘But I didn’t get the photo.’ My voice breaks.
‘Millie,’ Hugh says with a sigh. ‘You just need a witness to corroborate that you saw them.’
‘I don’t see how that matters,’ I say, my eyes brimming with tears again, threatening to spill over, ‘when you are that witness.’
‘Yeah,’ says Hugh. He steadies himself against the railing and runs his other hand through his hair. ‘But I’m not going to do that to you.’ He sighs again.
‘But—’ I say.
‘No buts,’ he interrupts. ‘All you need is a signed dive log from the two of us that a species was sighted. And we both saw those fish.’
Could that be true? I wonder. Millie would know. ‘Are you sure?’ I ask Hugh.
He nods. ‘I’m sure. The witnesses have to be marine biologists, it can’t just be anyone, but I’ve done it before for a buddy I work with when we both saw a rare species of turtle.’
I gulp. ‘That’s a big sacrifice for you,’ I mumble.
‘It’s not a sacrifice when it’s the truth,’ he says simply, like it’s the easiest logic in the world. Although his voice is a little huskier than normal.
‘OK,’ I whisper. I place a hand on his forearm. ‘If you’re sure?’ I already feel my emotions clearing, my tears subsiding, making way for elated joy. I start to smile.
‘I’m sure,’ Hugh says, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. ‘I’m happy for you, Millie. And honestly, I’m happy those little suckers made it.’
‘Oh my God,’ I whisper. I’m not sure if I say it in relief or because being pressed up against Hugh’s chest feels terrifyingly right. I melt into his frame. He pulls away first and looks intently at my face. When he seems satisfied that I’m no longer at risk of falling into full sobs, he pulls me back into a hug.
The heat between us could sizzle the remaining water from our skin. His pecs press up against my chest and his forearms are heavy and strong around my shoulder blades. Even after being in the water, he still smells like Hugh. I breathe in deeply from the crook of his neck.
‘Did you see it?’ Pippa asks, poking her head from behind Hugh.
We break apart and I nod the affirmative to Pippa, my eyes still a little teary.
‘I knew you could do it!’ she cries, triumphant.
I grab onto the railing to steady myself. I didn’t realise how much tension and fear I was holding onto until it was gone. I feel free.
‘I can’t wait to tell my sister.’ I take a deep breath of the ocean air.
‘She’ll be excited for you?’ Hugh asks.
‘You have no idea.’
The boat ride back to Cairns takes upwards of three hours. I am blissed out, lying on the platform. Pippa sways in the hammock above me, chatting excitedly about the waterfall tour. I have yet to invite Hugh because I haven’t had the talk with him. After finding the wrasse, my impersonation felt even more explicit. I also wanted to give him space to come to terms with whatever this means for his paper and his promotion. If he’s disappointed or upset with me because of what I found, he hasn’t let it show.
I watch Miguel dismantle the oxygen tanks for the last time, cracking up with Vanessa as he does it. His brown hair gleams in the sun and his smile is bigger than ever, like he’s excited to be done with the trip too. If Hugh hadn’t been on this trip, there’s no denying that Miguel could have been fun.
Andrew is pacing the deck and talking animatedly to Derek about how excited he is to be on dry land. Every now and then I crack my eyes open and gaze at Hugh, who is lounging on the platform within reach of my fingertips. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is slightly open, his full bottom lip sticking out. I watch the rise and fall of his strong, tanned chest. I resist the urge to touch him, although with finding the butterfly wrasse off my plate, it’s all I can think about.
Will I have to be honest with him tonight? Or should I let us just enjoy our last night together . . .
Pippa catches me staring at Hugh and snickers loud enough to disturb him. He mumbles something incoherent, raising his eyebrows at her. I glare at Pippa. She laughs and flips over in the hammock.
‘We’re nearing the harbour,’ Aaron announces, prompting everyone to congregate, once again, in the captain’s room. Hugh wakes up and trudges inside, following Pippa and me. One by one, we filter in and out of the downstairs cabins, repacking our stuff and preparing our exit.
Finally, we see Cairns.
I take a deep breath when the first building comes into view.
Being closer to land means being that much closer to cell service . . . and to finding out how Millie’s surgery went. Natalie already has her cell phone out. She’s waving it in the air, trying to get signal. Derek is fretting over his camera. Things feel like they are returning to normal, like the closer we get to land, the more I will feel like this never happened. Hugh and I sit together in our normal seats by Aaron’s chair.
‘This is weird,’ Hugh says.
‘Like the closer we get to land the more this feels like a fever dream?’ I reply.
‘Exactly.’
A shiver runs up my spine at how in sync we are after just five days. I slightly move my thigh so that our legs are touching. Hugh glances at me out of the corner of my eye, and I pretend not to notice. I drink in his stature and his smell – sunscreen and woodsy with a hint of fresh grass and male cologne.
Hugh places a hand on my thigh. ‘Now that you’re done focusing on finding that fish. And now that I’m feeling better,’ he mumbles throatily, never taking his eyes off the horizon.
‘I’m listening,’ I whisper coyly.
Just then, Aaron abruptly cuts the motor, startling Hugh’s hand off my knee. We’ve entered a no-wake zone. Andrew and Pippa turn their phones on, and they start to vibrate with what I’m sure is a deluge of calls and texts they missed while we were on the water.
‘You gonna check on your sister?’ Hugh asks, gesturing at the phone that still sits on airplane mode in my lap.
‘I’m nervous.’
Hugh reaches over, swipes down on my phone screen, and toggles the button to turn off airplane mode. ‘Better do it sooner than later.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. I mean it. I know he’s right, and I didn’t have the strength to do it myself. My hands are shaking.
My phone starts to vibrate, first slowly, every twenty seconds or so, and then furiously, like it could explode. My breathing shallows.
I watch as texts pour in from my mom, coming in random order.
She’s in surgery.
We’re waiting.
We had to go back to the hospital.
She’s headed back.
Murphy is doing fine without you.
We’re headed home!
What have you been feeding this dog?! He eats so much!
Millie says she loves you.
She’s through surgery!
Honey, Millie has an infection. We’re taking her back to the hospital.
And then . . .
A missed call from last night at 10.20 p.m.
A voicemail.
I press on the voicemail with shaky hands, fumbling to bring the phone up to my face. Hugh rests a reassuring hand on my knee, noticing that something may be wrong.
With the motor off, the air on the boat is still and silent. We are drifting lazily towards the dock. The voicemail from my mother starts blaring from my phone. I barely register that I must have accidentally hit the speakerphone button. I listen with a racing heart as my mom speaks.
‘Andi? Shhh,’ the voicemail breaks and turns fuzzy, then my mom’s voice comes through crystal clear again. ‘Paul, I’m leaving Andi a voicemail. Honey? Millie has a bad infection. We had to go back to the hospital. We’re here now – we’ve been here about . . .’ she pauses ‘. . . about sixteen hours. Millie’s asleep. The doctors say this complicates the road to recovery.’ She pauses again and clears her throat. ‘I know you’re not supposed to come home for another day, but do you think you could come home early?’ Her voice gets further away from the phone. ‘Paul, she needs to know,’ she tells my dad sternly. ‘I love you, sweetheart. Call me when you get this.’
I stop breathing. I don’t feel like I’m in my body anymore. At some point in the voicemail, Hugh has taken his hand off my thigh. My heart slows. I barely register Pippa’s eyes on mine, large and sympathetic. Even Aaron looks concerned.
Nobody speaks. There’s a faint ringing in my ears. It drowns out the seagulls calling and the sound of the boat’s motor.
‘We’ll be on land in five,’ Aaron says softly. ‘I’ll radio for a taxi to take you to the airport.’
I nod my head. My mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton. I can’t seem to form any words with my lips. My sister , is all I can think. My big sister .
Tears pool in my eyelids and start cascading down my cheeks.
My head feels light and my knees feel weak. I place a hand on the bench next to me to steady myself. My sister. I feel blood draining from my face. My hands feel clammy. I breathe in through my nose. Breathe , I think. Just make it to the airport . I can see the dock in the distance. I lock my eyes on it. There’s nothing you can do from here , I tell myself, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
I feel a tear land on my thigh in a heavy drop. I can’t help but picture Millie in a hospital bed, alone, without me. Thinking about the beeping of machines makes my breath come faster, in shallower spurts. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. My big sister .
Just then, Natalie’s head snaps to attention. She smacks her palm on her forehead.
‘Andi!’ she exclaims. She covers her mouth immediately, as if she knew right away that was the wrong thing to say in the moment.
Instinctively, I swivel to look at her, responding to my name. Pippa turns to glare at Natalie, opening her mouth to interrupt her, but she’s too late.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbles. ‘I— that’s just what they called you at the airport, it’s been bothering me this whole time. You’re Andi.’ She starts to babble, more than I’ve ever heard her talk before.
My big sister is still echoing through my brain. I’m having trouble concentrating on what Natalie is saying. I’m not even sure if I care anymore.
‘I kept wanting to ask you about it but . . .’ Natalie’s saying, ‘I wanted to make sure I had your name right because I was hoping . . .’ I tune her out again. The dock is closer now. All I care about is getting to Millie as fast as I can.
But Hugh’s voice breaks through my daze. ‘Wait . . . Is that true?’ he asks from beside me, his voice low. ‘I thought your mom was . . . so, you’re not Millie, you’re the . . . the other one?’ Realisation dawns on his face slowly. ‘If you’re Andi . . .’ He trails off.
I think about lying again, saying I switched names with my sister when we were little and I go by Millie, but even to my exhausted brain that story sounds flimsy, so instead I just nod. This is too much to process, all at once. I hear Aaron softly communicating with a cab driver, describing who he needs to wait for at the edge of the pier. Brown curly hair, average build.
‘You’re not Millie.’ Hugh’s voice is hard.
I nod again. ‘No.’ For a moment I wish I could just step into the ocean and let the waves pull me under. I don’t feel strong enough to face this conversation. I don’t feel strong enough to face whatever is waiting for me at home.
‘So, you’re not a marine biologist?’
I shake my head again.
‘But you knew everything.’ It comes out as a question and a statement.
‘I studied it in college.’
‘But you’re good.’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
Hugh’s face crumples as the information continues to sink in. His eyes are dark and stormy, his mouth settles into a grim line. He’s created distance between us, scooting further from me on the bench, and our legs are no longer touching.
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
After a moment, Hugh lets out a sharp bark of a laugh. ‘And you were angry with me because I didn’t tell you about my paper,’ he says, in a tone dripping with disdain.
For the second time in two minutes, my heart completely shatters.