Chapter 27
True to his word, Aaron tells me a cab is idling at the end of the pier when we pull in.
Everyone’s been quiet since my bad news, Natalie’s outburst and Hugh’s revelation. Hugh stalked to the front of the boat shortly after he realised I was Andi. I couldn’t bring myself to go after him. My legs felt like jello. My heart was pounding, each beat thundering Millie, Millie, Millie .
Pippa hustles me downstairs to grab my bags as the crew is docking the boat. I give her a tearful hug goodbye, promising to call.
‘Tell me how Millie is,’ she says, squeezing my arm one last time.
I promise that I will.
I am the first one off, scrambling to disembark with my luggage in tow. I wave and thank Aaron and Vanessa, Miguel pulls me in for a quick hug. He touches my cheek affectionately. ‘Good luck,’ he says, his accent thicker than usual.
I break apart from Miguel and look to Hugh, searching for forgiveness in his eyes, but he is at the front of the boat, unreadable and far away, all hard muscle and tanned skin.
I pull my suitcase down the rickety wooden dock, not even trying to avoid the little mounds of bird poop. Time is crucial – if I rush to the airport and there is space on the flight, I can get out of Cairns tonight. When Aaron called the taxi, Pippa had the wherewithal to ask about the bends, making sure that if I were to make the flight, I wouldn’t get sick. Vanessa and Aaron assured me that because yesterday we didn’t dive, and this morning we only dived once, I should be OK to make the trip even though I’ll be a couple hours short of the twelve-hour window. I hardly even care about nitrogen poisoning anymore, I just want to see my sister.
I’m yanking my luggage over a stuck-up wooden board when I hear flip-flops slapping the dock behind me.
‘Hey,’ Hugh breathes.
‘I really have got to go,’ I say. I can’t turn around. I can’t face him.
‘I’m coming with you.’
I keep walking. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ I say, but my steps falter.
‘Pippa told me I was being a bloody idiot and that I shouldn’t let you leave while we’re in the middle of a fight. Especially given what’s happening with your sister. And that you had good reasons for doing what you did.’
Despite all the emotions swirling in my head, a half-hearted chuckle forces its way out of my throat. ‘Of course she did.’
‘I don’t understand why you did what you did, but I don’t want to leave us this way. At least let me go with you to the airport. We can talk on the way.’ Hugh grabs my luggage and starts carrying it. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders.
‘OK,’ I manage to squeak out before I start to cry.
Hugh puts my stuff in the trunk, and we climb into the back seat of the taxi. I can’t get comfortable, I’m so nervous that there won’t be space on the plane. I’m leaning forward, willing the driver to go faster.
I try to call my mom, desperate for answers, but it’s the middle of the night and she doesn’t pick up. The backs of my legs stick to the leather vinyl. I would usually dread getting on a fourteen-hour flight without a shower, but now it seems like the least of my problems.
‘I’m sorry about Millie,’ Hugh says, as the car pulls away from the kerb. His voice catches as he says Millie’s name.
‘I’m scared,’ I whisper. My voice breaks on the last word.
Hugh squeezes my hand.
After a few minutes of silence, he clears his throat. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks quietly.
‘I tried. I was going to earlier, on the beach, but then, you know . . . we got . . . distracted . . . and then I wanted to last night . . .’
‘That’s the thing you had to talk to me about? That you’ve been pretending to be someone else the entire time I’ve known you?’
I nod, staring at my lap.
‘Who was I even talking to on Instagram?’ I can tell he’s trying his best to keep his anger at bay, but it’s creeping into his voice.
I lay a tentative hand on his forearm. ‘Me,’ I confess, finally meeting his eyes. ‘I was pretending to be Millie because you insulted my grammar. I proofread all of her stuff.’ I sniffle. ‘And then she had to get surgery, and she didn’t want to miss her chance to find the wrasse. And now . . .’ I trail off and start to cry, my voice breaking and tears welling up in my eyes.
Hugh wraps his arm around me protectively and pulls me into his chest. ‘Shhh,’ he repeats softly, stroking my hair. ‘It’ll be OK.’
‘I’m so worried,’ I cry, smearing snot across his shirt. ‘And I’m sorry I have to go like this,’ I say through sobs. ‘I didn’t mean for it to go this far.’
Hugh doesn’t say anything. I pull myself out of his grip and look him in the eyes. They’re brilliantly blue.
‘I know why you have to go,’ he says, reaching out to wipe a tear from my cheek. ‘I understand.’
I cry harder.
The taxi pulls up at the airport and Hugh jumps out, beating me to the trunk to unload my luggage. When the driver leaves and we’re alone on the kerb, both of us fall silent.
‘I don’t want to pretend like I’m OK with what you did,’ Hugh says finally, kicking a pebble next to the road. ‘But I want to hear your full explanation, and I know now isn’t a good time to give it.’
If anything could have made me like Hugh more, that sentence was it. I wrap my arms around him, giving him a huge hug, nestling once more into his smell.
‘Thank you,’ I breathe. There are so many things I want to say to Hugh. Apologising seems impossible with so much emotion already clouding my mind. ‘I’ll miss you,’ is what comes out of my mouth instead.
‘I’ll miss you too.’ Hugh runs a hand through his hair. ‘Maybe I can get that explanation in Boston?’ he asks.
‘OK,’ I agree, relief flooding through me at the thought of seeing him in April. I can figure out how to explain everything by then. ‘Boston.’
Hugh leans down and kisses me, swiftly and deeply. I melt into his arms, my emotions running so high that his kiss makes me want to cry. Knowing I have a date when I’ll see him makes my trip back home a bit more bearable.
When we break apart, I turn and start to head into the airport. I take one last look at the giant green rolling mountains dominating the landscape behind me. I’m going to miss Australia. I’ll miss the laid-back nature of the people that choose to live here. I’ll miss the awe-inspiring natural beauty of the country, the way it feels like there is so much left to explore and discover. I’ll miss the reef, with its colours, salty air and turquoise waters.
I’m almost to the doors, which are automatically sliding open and closed, sending a woosh of air conditioning towards me every time they shut, when I realise I didn’t get Hugh to sign my dive log. I’ve been keeping a record in my dive journal of what fish I saw and when, and the entry for the last day has the butterfly wrasse and a place for a witness’s signature.
I hesitate. If what Hugh said on the boat is true, then his signature is the proof I need for Millie. But the faster I get inside the airport, the better chance I have at getting a seat on the early plane. I need to go in . But I can’t return home to Millie empty-handed.
‘Hugh,’ I shout, turning and sprinting towards him. He’s at the far end of the walkway, and I have to run to catch up to him. ‘My dive log.’ I gasp for air. ‘Can you sign it?’
I’m already pulling it out of my backpack by the time I see Hugh’s face. His eyebrows are knit together, his eyes are dark.
I hand him the paper and he takes it gently. He glances at it and his eyebrows knit together. ‘Seriously?’ he asks in a small voice.
‘Um,’ I stammer, ‘yes?’ I squirm. ‘I have to go.’
‘Millie—’ he says, before he clears his throat and corrects himself. ‘I mean Andi. Andi, I can’t.’ He starts to hand the dive log back to me.
‘But . . .’ I falter. We’re both holding onto the paper now. He’s pushing it into my hands, but I’m refusing to take it. ‘You said we were OK, that I would see you in Boston. How . . . how are you refusing to sign it? We saw the fish.’ This isn’t happening , I’m thinking. He’s not going back on his word already. He’s not changing his mind about us already. He’s not doing this to get back at me . . . is he?
Hugh takes a step back, putting distance between us. ‘Andi, I can’t sign that.’
‘What do you mean you can’t?’
‘I don’t understand how you’re asking me that. That is an official Global Marine Biology record log. And it’s false. I can’t sign it.’
‘But we both saw the fish!’ I say, exasperated. My voice is louder than I intended. I feel anger surging in my chest. My heart rate is rising again. This can’t be happening .
‘But you’re not Millie. And it says Millie right there.’ Hugh points at the paper. His jawline is more pronounced than usual, like he’s clenching his perfect teeth.
I know I’m not Millie! I want to scream. I want to reach out and touch him, I want to shake him back and forth, erasing the anger from his face. I want to break down the wall I feel like he’s building.
‘But I’m doing this for Millie. I thought you understood that.’
He doesn’t budge.
‘Hugh, you can’t be serious,’ I say through a clenched jaw. I can feel him shutting me out. My chest tightens. My heart rate picks up. I don’t know how we got here. Weren’t we just making plans to see each other in Boston? I think. How do I get back to that?
‘I don’t know what to tell you, you’re not a marine biologist. It wouldn’t be ethical.’ Hugh’s expression hardens with frustration.
‘I can’t believe you,’ I say, fighting back tears. ‘This is it? You’re just going to refuse to help me? After everything?’
‘Look, I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry?’ I sputter back.
‘Andi, you can’t make this my fault.’ Hugh is incredu-lous. ‘First you lie to me for days and now this? Asking me to sign something that’s false?’ He hesitates. ‘I thought I was going to get over you lying. I thought with time we could move past it. But, Andi, this is too much. I don’t see how you can’t understand why I don’t want to do what you’re asking me to do.’ And the way he says my name, with such finality, such resignation, completely does me in.
‘I really do want the best for your sister,’ he says, but he’s already turning to leave.
‘But,’ I say, refusing to believe that this is how he will leave me, that a stupid falsified dive log will be his last straw, that he will really go without giving me the one thing that I’m desperate to do for my sister. I can’t wrap my head around him walking away from me, from us, after the last five days we shared together.
But he does. He leaves without so much as a wave goodbye.
I am left standing on the kerb, watching helplessly as he gets into an Uber, my dive log fluttering uselessly in my hand.