Chapter 15 #2
‘Surmounting hurdles, indeed.’ Dr Leeton smiles supportively. ‘What you’ve told me is between us, Felicity, though going by Seb’s briefing, he’s worked a lot of this out for himself. You’re in need of support while on this ship. The choice of who gives it to you is yours.’
‘I’ll talk to him. I’ll work out what to do.’
‘Dr Leeton is my newest best friend.’ Angelina Latimer—beautiful face, wavy auburn hair and an all-encompassing smile—only sat next to me an hour ago, but she makes me feel like I’m one of her best friends, too.
She’s in her early thirties and works in communications for the Antarctic Division.
We’re the only two seated in the dining room.
When Angelina puts her feet on another chair, so do I.
‘Were you sick all night?’ I ask.
‘Throwing up like you wouldn’t believe, but Dr Leeton’s magic potions did the trick.’
‘It’s a shame they didn’t work for Kingsley, Robin and the other scientists.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against scientists, but I can’t believe how many there are on this ship.’ Another smile. ‘Lucky for me, your kind of science, I can understand. Birds are relatable.’
‘I’m happy to hear that.’
‘When I was at school, we had to do a project on a ground-dwelling bird.’ She pauses, then grins. ‘It might well have been the only Year 9 science project I didn’t fail.’
‘What bird did you choose?’
‘A bowerbird.’
‘Which species? There’s the giant bowerbird, the satin bowerbird and—’
‘It was bright blue.’
‘With violet eyes?’
‘That’s the one!’
I laugh. ‘What did you learn about it?’
‘The male has the looks; the female has the brains. Though, to be totally honest, I can’t remember how I came to that conclusion.’
‘A female bowerbird has understated plumage, but her olive-green and brown colouring lets her blend into the landscape when she’s nesting and caring for chicks.’
Angelina’s eyes widen. ‘I remember that too!’
Angelina and I both have long legs. She crosses hers at the ankles when a crowd of men, including Captain Simpson and other members of the crew, walk into the room. They’re all rugged up in jackets, beanies and gloves.
‘Oi!’ Angelina shouts and gives a wave. ‘Shut the door!’
With a smile, one of the men closes the door but within a few seconds it opens again and Sebastien stands in the frame. He’s wearing a black woollen cable knit jumper. Does it suit him? Absolutely.
‘Sebastien Thorsen …’ Angelina nudges me with an elbow. ‘That man should come with a heat warning.’
The wind has blown his hair around. As if he reads my mind, he runs a hand through it to neaten it up. When the captain beckons Sebastien into the men’s circle, he joins them. His hands are linked behind his back.
‘The bowerbird makes a nest, doesn’t he?’ Angelina taps her foot against the arm of the chair. ‘He prances around to get the girl.’
‘The male has to demonstrate to the female that he’s the best bowerbird she’s ever likely to meet. He doesn’t make a nest—he makes a stage.’
‘He shows her that he’s worthy of her love.’ She links her hands. ‘That’s true love.’
‘You could see it like that.’
‘My dream is to be with someone who excites me so much I could imagine living with them for the rest of my life.’ Smiling, she makes a heart shape with her thumbs and index fingers. ‘Has that ever happened to you?’
Angling my body so there’s no chance I can see Sebastien, even out of the corner of my eye, I push him to the back of my mind.
‘Not even close. You?’
‘Once, yes, but …’ Angelina throws her hands in the air. ‘I was too young and stupid to see it was love.’
‘So how do you know that it was?’
A dramatic sigh. ‘Because for the eight years after I left him and shattered his heart, I’ve been forced to see him countless times. Engagements, weddings, christenings, funerals, the lot. He looks particularly handsome in black.’
I laugh. ‘Is he a family friend?’
‘He used to work with my brother-in-law, and he was a groomsman at his wedding. Mostly, he lives in Europe, but he’s considered a de facto member of various families I’m connected to.
In addition to bringing along an attractive “plus one” to every event, he buys thoughtful gifts, calms unsettled babies, dances with the elderly and remembers everybody’s names and life histories. He’s beloved by young and old alike.’
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’
‘Sympathy I do not deserve, given I was the fool who sent him away.’
‘He wouldn’t give you a second chance?’
‘He was twenty-eight and knew what he wanted. I was twenty-four and when I broke it off, I broke his heart. At first, he stayed well clear. After that, he moved on. Not only that—his dates are invariably as nice and lovable as he is.’ Another sigh. ‘That really pisses me off.’
‘Does he have a different date every time? Maybe there’s still hope.’
‘He’s not married or engaged or anything, it’s just …’ A sad smile. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s not meant to be. I’m pushing thirty-three and he’s just turned thirty-seven. We dance around each other without actually dancing.’
‘One day, your true love might fashion a bower.’
‘If he did, I wouldn’t look at another man’s bower for the rest of my life.’ She glances over my shoulder, blows a kiss and waves. ‘Even Sebastien Thorsen’s.’
Warmth moves up my neck. ‘How well do you know him?’
‘It doesn’t take long to know a man.’ A toss of her head. ‘I cornered him before dinner last night, but he was clearly distracted by you.’
‘I needed his help with something.’
‘You’ve known him for a while, haven’t you? He’d be quite a catch.’
We kissed. Memorably. But … I shake my head. ‘It’s nothing like that.’
‘Seb!’
My heart sinks as Angelina calls out and Sebastien backs away from the other men.
Leaning in close, she hisses, ‘He gave them short shrift.’
‘He’ll think you have something important to tell him. He takes everything seriously.’
‘Let’s see if we can loosen him up.’
Immediately Sebastien gets close, Angelina stands and threads an arm through his. ‘I thought it might be easier for you to stare at Flick if you were standing in front of her.’
A raised brow. ‘What did you want, Angelina?’
‘Flick and I have been having a fascinating conversation about bowerbirds. Did you know a bower is like a stage? The male builds it to show off his handiwork and to perform.’
Sebastien’s arm is linked with Angelina’s, but it’s my face he’s looking at. What is he searching for? Fear? Deception? My heart rate ramps up.
‘In terms of size and arrangement of objects, the bower has to be aesthetically pleasing.’ My words run away. ‘But the female also assesses potential mates for industriousness and ingenuity.’
Angelina laughs. ‘Yes!’
‘The beauty of the bower or the male’s own beauty aren’t enough on their own.’
‘Did you hear that bit about male beauty, Seb?’ Angelina grins. ‘A fact particularly pertinent to you.’
Besides looking mildly annoyed, Sebastien doesn’t respond.
‘If a female were brightly coloured, it would be easier for a predator to find her and her chicks.’ I’m speaking much too quickly. ‘Her looks camouflage her. They’re a survival tool.’
Sebastien disengages from Angelina. ‘I need to talk to Felicity in private.’
‘You’re impossible!’ Laughing, Angelina takes Sebastien’s hand and rubs it between hers. ‘Also freezing.’
‘In private, Angelina.’
With a groan, she drops his hand. ‘As you’re concerned about Flick, who happens to be my newest and dearest best friend and confidante, I’ll forgive you one more time.’
He doesn’t exactly smile, but his gaze softens. ‘Thank you.’
Bowerbirds mate for a season. Penguins are monogamous and search for the same mate every year.
I know a lot of theory about birds and their behaviours, but people are different.
Angelina, laughing with Jerry at the door to the kitchen, is vivacious and gets on well with Sebastien.
With me and him, it’s far more complicated.
‘Felicity.’ Sebastien moves closer. ‘What are you thinking?’
I shake my head. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘That’s untrue.’
‘You talked to Dr Leeton.’
‘He can help if you want that.’
‘Up here was easier today than it was yesterday. I hope to do better tonight.’
‘Dr Leeton.’ He rubs around the back of his neck. ‘Yes or no? He’ll have medication.’
‘I don’t want that.’
‘And advice.’
‘We had hot chocolate this morning and I liked that but …’ I can’t quite meet Sebastien’s gaze. ‘I think I’ll be okay.’
‘When I said you shouldn’t be left alone in a cabin, he agreed.’
Is Sebastien offering his services? I’m suddenly unsure. I could ask Jerry or Angelina, but I don’t know them well and—
‘Felicity.’ He’s frowning. ‘I’ll look after you, but we have to keep our distance.’
After I had a migraine at the hotel, I wanted Sebastien to be close but he refused to climb onto the bed.
Is that what he’s talking about? Is that what he’s afraid I’ll want again?
I wish I could tell him to piss off. I wish a lonely demon wasn’t poking a pitchfork into my eardrum to find a way through my head so he can search for more demons to join him.
I wish my heart wasn’t hammering with fear and something else; something deep inside that makes me want to dive into the ocean and swim all the way home.
Relying on someone. Getting close. There’s no room in my life for either of those things.