Chapter 42
CHAPTER
Sunbeams push through the clouds as Robin follows me out of our accommodation block.
The boat that’ll ferry Angelina, Nate and me to the ship is only twenty metres from the beach and Angelina and Nate are down there already.
A seal, enjoying the warmth of the gravel, opens an eye as I pass.
Two petrels, plumage dark against the dove-grey sky, glide on the currents.
Sebastien and I talked about gliders. Thermal lift. Ridge lift. Wave lift.
I haven’t spoken to him since New Year’s Eve, two weeks, one day and twelve hours ago.
‘I’ll see you to the boat,’ Robin says. ‘Not that I’m one for soggy goodbyes.’
‘I’ll miss you.’ My voice crackles.
She pats my arm. ‘It’s no wonder you’re tearful. You were up half the night.’
‘I set my alarm for four, so I’d have time to see the gentoo one last time.’
‘Will they miss you?’
‘Not at all, and that’s a good thing.’
‘You haven’t been yourself these past few weeks.’
‘I’ve missed him.’ There, the words are out.
‘Seb, I presume. And what do you intend to do about that?’
‘Nothing can be done.’
‘I very much doubt he would agree.’
‘I’ve always been conscious that flying, and the other things Sebastien does, are dangerous, but what happened in the mess that night …’
Her brows disappear into her hood. ‘It went beyond an intellectual awareness to an emotional one.’
‘I can’t do it, Robin. I can’t lose him.’
Gaze sympathetic, she squeezes my arm. ‘I’m sorry, Flick. Really, I am.’
We’re both sniffing as I hoist my duffel bag over my shoulder. ‘Thank you for your help with my mother.’
‘Give me Lady Macbeth any day.’
‘I see her more clearly than I did.’
‘For which I am thankful and …’ A wink as she takes a red frog from her pocket. ‘I believe we have time for one more pep talk before you go. Describe your mother’s personality.’
Deep breath. ‘She has narcissistic tendencies.’
‘Generation Z calls it “main character syndrome”. Your mother thinks everyone in her orbit revolves around her, that they’ve been created to serve her. To make things worse, she suffered a tragedy, the loss of your brother, and that played into her narcissism.’
‘My mother’s orbit is small because not many people will put up with the way she treats them.’ When I skirt around a second seal, Robin follows. ‘That’s made things worse for me.’
‘Your mother is self-centred. She views things only through how they affect her.’
‘She shouldn’t use the loss of a child as an excuse for poor behaviour, particularly towards me.’
‘Your mother lacks empathy and is likely abusive.’
‘I don’t like to think of it like that.’
‘Limit the abuse to the financial variety if that makes you feel better, but abuse is abuse and by its nature inexcusable. Your mother preys on your vulnerabilities. She exploits your sweet disposition and misplaced sense of obligation.’
‘Flick!’ Jerry and Kingsley, part of the self-appointed send-off party, wave from the beach. ‘Shake a tail feather! Get yourself down to this boat!’
Robin and I step around another seal. ‘What else can you tell me?’
‘Mum is spoilt. I spoil her.’
‘You enable her.’
I grimace. ‘Thanks.’
‘I should have prefaced that.’
‘What with? That I facilitate her bad behaviour? I know I do but—’
‘You, Felicity Atherton, are intelligent, loyal and kind. That’s why I get so bloody furious.’
‘Because I should stick up for myself?’
‘Because you are a daughter any decent mother would be exceptionally proud to call their own.’ Robin tugs off a glove, pulls tissues from her pocket and blows her nose. When she takes me into a bear hug, my bag falls to the ground. ‘You have a right to be happy.’
I’m pushing food around my plate when Captain Simpson, smiling broadly, walks to the head of the table and addresses all twelve of us. ‘Welcome on board!’
‘Piss off.’
I whisper the words, but Angelina smothers a laugh. ‘Well said.’
‘He set me up.’
‘A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Go you for sticking up for yourself.’
‘He’s coming this way. Do you think he heard?’
‘Flick!’ The captain smiles. ‘Has Gregory tracked you down yet?’
‘It was lovely to see him again. Thank you for assigning him to me.’
‘Captain Thorsen wouldn’t have it any other way. Recently out of his sick bed, by all accounts. I was delighted to accommodate him.’
I’d like to yell at Sebastien. Or kiss him. ‘I’ll do my best not to cause too much grief.’
‘Flick doesn’t need a man, you or Seb, to rescue her.’ Angelina’s fork clinks on the plate.
‘I didn’t suggest—’
‘I’m relieved to hear it.’ Angelina’s nod is dismissive and, after a very stiff nod of his own, the captain moves on. I twist my napkin in my lap.
‘Thank you.’
She grins. ‘He’s a prick.’
‘I’ll disturb you tonight.’
‘You’ve already walked to the cabin, which was streets ahead of what you could do on the way over.’
‘I put my bag on the bed and ran.’
‘A technicality.’ She waves a hand. ‘You’ve also stomached a bread roll and a glass of lemonade.’
‘If I hadn’t delayed going to my cabin on the way over, you might not have told me about your bowerbird. We might not have become friends.’
She smiles. ‘Even fears and long-lost love have a place in the world.’
‘You and Nate aren’t long lost any more.’
‘The pieces fell into place after you asked Nate how he’d feel if he’d only just met me.’
‘Out of his depth and head over heels.’
‘Which is also how I feel.’ She elbows me. ‘I owe you.’
‘I might be calling in that debt tonight. When I panic, I get demons in my head.’
She blinks. ‘Demons?’
‘They poke me with their pitchforks. That’s why I throw up.’
‘I’ll manage your demons if you manage my seasickness.’
‘You might need Dr Leeton’s magic injections again.’
Her eyes widen dramatically. ‘Apparently, I have to throw up before I get the good stuff.’
‘You should be sharing a room with Nate. Is he really okay with it?’
She leans in close and whispers, ‘Seb would kill him if he wasn’t.’
I reach for another bread roll and rip it in half. ‘You said I didn’t need a man to rescue me.’
‘I think of you and Seb as a two-way rescue situation.’
‘Has Nate heard from him lately?’
‘He’s been out of hospital for almost three weeks, you know that already, but he’ll be in Sydney for at least another four. He has an air force medical coming up, so he’s back at the gym. He’s also back at work.’
‘I sent the last of my reports through yesterday.’
‘You’re in touch? I thought …’
‘He acknowledged receipt of my email.’ I can’t even pretend to smile. ‘That’s all.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It was what I asked for.’
At the end of his secondment, Sebastien will fly home to Norway. It’s a long flight, so he’ll read a book. There’ll be another flight to Bergen, or will he take a train? After he arrives at the air force base, he’ll climb into the cockpit of his jet and then he’ll fly away.
I miss our late-night conversations.
I miss him.
Angelina, holding my arm in a steely grip as we walk to the airport gate, insists she didn’t book the first-class seats.
‘You must have.’
‘As you insisted on flying, I’m supporting you in a practical way—sitting up the front means you can get on the plane last and leave first.’
‘First-class passengers won’t want me throwing up or passing out.’
‘Economy passengers squished into their seats will want it even less. Take pity on them.’
‘I insist on paying you back.’
‘I give up!’ She increases her pace. ‘Nate, who has a bazillion airline points, gave up his seat for me. Sebastien paid for you. Now, are you happy?’
A flight attendant with cherry-red lipstick watches critically as we approach. ‘I was about to close the gate,’ she says.
Angelina, equally well groomed, holds out our tickets. ‘1A and 1B.’
The flight attendant finds a smile. ‘I’ll escort you.’
As we near the tunnel, the nausea I woke with ramps up, but I reassure myself that, after working on Rani’s exercises for months, my aversion to an aircraft cabin won’t be as debilitating as it was.
There’s no need to shoehorn me into the window seat because there’s plenty of space.
I keep my eyes on the tarmac as Angelina straps me in.
‘Champagne?’ Another flight attendant. Blood-red lipstick.
‘No, thank you.’
‘As I’m celebrating my engagement—’ Angelina’s smile is radiant, ‘—I’ll have two.’
I’m not sure whether it’s the desensitisation I’ve been working on, the front-row seats or Angelina’s good-natured positivity, but the sick bag stays folded in my lap all the way to Sydney.
By then, Angelina has sweet-talked the flight attendant into escorting Nate to the front of the plane the moment it lands.
Wrapping an arm firmly around my waist, he half-leads, half-drags me along the tunnel before sitting me on a chair in the baggage claim area.
‘Breathe, Flick.’
‘You sound like Sebastien.’
‘I’ve been triple briefed.’
‘I should thank him, shouldn’t I? I will.’
Dear Sebastien,
Nate said you’re well enough to go back to work, which must be a relief to you and your family. I hope everything continues to go well with your recovery—and also your project.
Captain Simpson told me Gregory had been assigned to me after he’d spoken to you. Thanks also for paying for Seat 1A on the plane. Please let me know the cost of the fare so I can reimburse you.
Tomorrow, I drive to Brisbane to see my mother. On the way back, I’ll go to the Macquarie Marshes, then I’ll meet up with Matilda. I’ve told Angelina and Nate I can’t make their engagement party on Saturday.
Best wishes (and thanks again),
Flick