New Guinea Moon (16 page)

‘Yes.'

‘Are you all right? You're not on your own, are you? There's someone looking after you? These Crabtree people?'

‘Yes.'

‘Well, tell them it's only for another couple of days. As soon as I can get your flight changed, you'll be on your way home. Oh, dear. If only it wasn't Christmas — it's impossible to get anyone to answer the phone. I wonder if it might not be easier from your end? Perhaps I should talk to this — Belinda, is it?'

‘Barbara.'

‘Yes, Barbara, put her on, will you, darling? I think I'd better speak to her.'

Julie's hand tightens around the receiver. ‘No.'

‘Sorry, darling, what was that?'

Julie says, more loudly, ‘No!'

‘What? What's the matter?'

‘I don't want to come back yet. I want to wait —' She swallows. ‘They haven't even found his body yet. I want to stay until the funeral.'

‘Oh. Well, I suppose — When do you think that's likely to be?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Sorry, darling, I couldn't hear you —' ‘I don't know!'

A pause. Julie can imagine her mother, harassed, pushing her hair back from her forehead. ‘Sweetheart, you can't just impose on these Crabtree people indefinitely. What are we talking about? Days, weeks?'

‘I don't know. They don't mind me being here. Allan said I could stay as long as I liked.'

‘Yes, well, of course he
said
that.' Another pause. ‘Who is organising the funeral, anyway?'

‘I don't know; Allan, I suppose.'

‘That's his manager, isn't it?'

‘They were friends, Mum.'

‘Perhaps I should come up there myself,' says Caroline. ‘Maybe that's the best idea. We can't leave it all to strangers.'

‘You don't have to do that! People up here look after each other; Tony had plenty of friends. There's no need to —'

But Caroline speaks over her. ‘That's the pips, darling. Love you, goodbye —'

‘Bye,' says Julie. But the line is dead.

‘Oh, hell,' says Barbara suddenly on Boxing Day. ‘The Wewak trip. We were supposed to leave on Saturday. I'll have to phone up and cancel the hotel.'

Julie looks up. ‘Do we have to cancel?'

‘As far as I know, it's all paid for,' says Allan. ‘But there shouldn't be any problem getting a refund. Under the circumstances.'

The lump in Julie's throat is so hard she can barely force out the words. ‘I don't want to cancel it. Tony said it was my Christmas present.'

Barbara shoots a quick glance at Allan. ‘But, Julie, surely you don't feel like a holiday at the beach? Just a few days after your father —?'

Julie's throat is tight. She mutters, ‘I really want to go.'

‘Ah, to hell with it,' growls Allan. ‘Why not? Where's the bloody harm?'

Barbara draws him aside. She murmurs, ‘It looks heartless. Even you can see that. Anyway, she might have gone home by then. As soon as Caroline can organise her visa —'

‘Mac wanted her to see Wewak,' says Allan loudly. ‘Why the hell shouldn't she go? What's the point of cancelling? It was the last bloody thing Mac did for her. Give the poor kid something to cheer her up. And the rest of us, come to that.' He glares at his wife.

Barbara tosses her head. ‘There's no need to take that tone. I'm fed up with the way you always try to make me into the villain.'

‘Give it a bloody rest —'

Julie stands up quietly and slips from the room.

With Allan on her side, the argument is over almost before it's begun. The following Saturday, they drive out to the airport. When Julie catches sight of Simon and Patrick Murphy in the waiting area of the HAC terminal, she has to stand behind the Crabtrees' car for a moment and hide her face in her hands. Tony must have organised it, without telling her. She'd mentioned her brilliant idea to him in passing, but she didn't know that he'd acted on it.

Simon crunches across the gravel of the car park to speak to her.

‘We weren't sure if you'd still want us to come,' he says awkwardly. ‘It's okay, we can always go home. We won't be offended if you'd rather just be with the Crabtrees —'

‘No, no, I'm so pleased you're here!'

Even as the words tumble from her lips, it occurs to her for the first time how weird it will be to have Simon and Ryan on the same holiday. She's not sure how Ryan will feel about it, either
. . .
But she's sure that she doesn't want Simon to go home.

‘Dad was really touched that you'd thought of him,' Simon says.

‘Is Dulcie here too?'

He shakes his head. ‘No, she
. . .
decided not to come. But Tony did invite her. Was that because of you?'

Julie scratches at the gravel with her toe. ‘Well, you know
. . .
of course you were all invited.'

‘No
of course
about it,' says Simon. He lays his hand on her arm, and a shiver of electricity runs through her. ‘I'm so sorry. About your father.'

‘I feel a bit guilty,' says Julie. ‘Everyone's being so kind to me, but I hardly knew him, really. He was Allan's friend for years and years
. . .
'

‘In a way, it might make things easier for Allan, having you here,' says Simon. ‘Looking after you gives him something to do. It's something he can do for your father, something useful. Does that make sense?'

‘Yes.' The more Julie thinks about it, the more sense it makes. She looks at Simon with respect.

Because there are seven of them in the party, they fly in a larger plane, an Islander, with the call sign Hotel Alpha Mike. Ryan takes the seat beside Julie. ‘Are you okay?'

It takes her a few seconds to work out why he's asking with such particular concern. It hasn't actually occurred to her to be frightened of flying because of what happened to Tony. Perhaps she's just stupid, or insensitive, but she honestly hasn't thought about it. ‘No, I'm fine,' she says, and she lets him hold her hand, and tries to ignore the reassuring and sympathetic looks that Nadine and Barbara send in her direction.

‘You sure?' says Ryan. ‘You know we'll be flying right over the place where Tony went down?'

‘Oh.' Julie's skin goes cold. She says, ‘Yes, of course I realised that.'

Simon sits beside Patrick, who reaches across to grip Julie's hand in his strong, bony fingers.

‘I was sorry to hear about Tony McGinty,' he says. ‘He was a good man.'

As they fly north, Julie isn't thinking,
This is what killed my father
; she is thinking,
This is what my father loved
. The towering clouds, the roller-coaster of the air currents, the glory of the emerald-shrouded mountains and valleys laid out below, the drone of the engines speeding them through the sky, the smell of avgas and cloth seats. The view is better from the Islander than from the Baron, because the wings are attached above the windows. She stares down as the mountains rise and fall below, but she doesn't see Tony's plane.

At last the Islander begins to descend into Wewak. As Julie gazes down at the jungle, she catches sight of mysterious objects there, almost hidden by the trees. It takes her a moment to understand that she's looking at the half-rotted bodies of crashed warplanes, lying where they were shot down thirty years ago, in World War II. She covers her mouth with her hand. Beside her, Ryan picks up her other hand and squeezes it. She's aware of his eyes, liquid with anxious sympathy, too much sympathy, fixed on her face. She pulls her hand out of his grasp. For the first time, his silent concern feels oppressive rather than comforting. ‘I'm okay,' she shouts, but he can't hear her. When she looks back down at the ruined planes, she can't see them any more. The Islander is sinking lower, and the trees rise up and conceal the wrecks from view.

They are staying at the Kingfisher Hotel, right on the beach. The rooms nestle in thickly thatched huts, with seagrass matting on the floors. Julie is sharing with Nadine, but as soon as she's dumped her bag on one of the beds, she is outside, two steps and onto the white sands of the beach. The sea is improbably turquoise, the sands pure and salt-white, the palm trees whispering and swaying in a benevolent line. Two seconds later, Nadine tears past her, whooping, in her bathers, and plunges into the waves. Julie sees Simon in the doorway of the next-door hut. Sudden, unreasoning happiness bubbles inside her.

‘Are you coming for a swim?' she calls.

‘Just getting Dad settled.' He disappears back inside, and a few minutes later he re-emerges, carrying a towel. Julie has changed into her bathers, and side by side they wade into the water; it's warm, lapping at their ankles. Julie tries not to stare at his bare chest. He is much less skinny than Ryan, filled out and muscular, probably from heaving sacks of coffee beans around all day. His skin is smooth, almost hairless, walnut brown. Once again she realises that Simon is a man, while Ryan is still a boy.

She dives into the water, pleasantly conscious that she is the most graceful swimmer among them. She grew up at the beach; for the others, it's a rare experience. They've been in the sea for about half an hour when Julie becomes aware of a figure on the sand, waving and gesticulating. She stands up, shielding her eyes from the sun. ‘What's the matter? Is there a shark or something?'

Nadine lets out a melodramatic scream and falls backward into the water with a splash.

‘Probably nothing.' Ryan turns away. ‘Mum'll tell us if it's something important.'

Barbara is sunbathing on the sand, reading a magazine, her face hidden under a floppy hat. Simon frowns and begins to wade out, and instinctively Julie follows him. The figure on the beach reveals itself as a man, a national, wearing an official-looking cap. He speaks to Simon in Pidgin. Simon's chin thrusts up and he answers sharply.

‘What is it?' says Julie. ‘What's wrong?'

Simon's eyes spark with dark fire. ‘He's checking that I'm a guest of the hotel. This beach is reserved for guests only.'

‘But you are a guest!'

The man backs away, spreading his hands, murmuring an apology.

Julie looks at Simon. ‘That's horrible. Does that — that kind of thing — does it happen a lot?'

‘It won't happen after Independence,' says Simon. ‘One day, all the guests in this hotel will be Papua New Guineans. No one will ever question it.' He stares along the beach.

On her towel, Barbara turns a page. She has ignored the entire scene.

‘Are you coming back in?'

Simon shakes his head. ‘I think I've had enough.' He splashes up onto the beach without looking back, heading for his room.

Ryan comes up behind Julie. ‘Hey.' He pulls at her hand and Julie lets him drag her back a few feet into the water, until the waves are rolling past their knees. He glances around furtively. Barbara is absorbed in her magazine, Nadine busy jumping the waves. Ryan pulls Julie close and kisses her. She tastes the salt on his lips. ‘Come out deeper,' he says. ‘Come and swim properly. You're a great swimmer. I've been watching you.'

‘No, I'm not.' But she can't help smiling. His hands are on her waist. She lets him pull her out, step by step, into deeper water, and she lets him wrap his arms around her. The warm water suspends them, embraces them. She presses her lips to his mouth. It's easier than thinking about Simon, thinking about Tony. But when Ryan slides his hands beneath the elastic of her bathers, she pulls back.

‘Come on,' he says. His hands creep over her skin. ‘No one can see us.'

She shakes her head; involuntarily, her eyes dart toward the beach.

Ryan gives her a little push away from him.
‘He's
not looking, if that's what you're worried about.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

Ryan flicks his head so that his wet fringe slaps against his forehead. His eyes are narrow. Then without speaking, he turns and dives clumsily beneath the water.