Shallow Breath (19 page)
He forgets everything except Elizabeth. While his ears ring with deafening gunfire, he races towards her motionless form. Nearby, Mali has slowed, beginning to stagger and lurch. The bullets keep on coming, and Mwana screams in agony as a ragged line of bloody holes appear in her face, trunk and chest. Without warning, Connor feels a hard, solid thwack in the centre of his shoulder blades, and finds himself falling over Elizabeth’s body.
In the moment before the pain arrives, he knows he has been badly hurt. A fierce drumming begins in his ears, rising and rising in a long crescendo as the story of his life plays out before him. The wind catches the tail of each beat and carries it away, while he sees the forest in his lungs; the ocean in his veins; the story of his life written in the twist of a cloud and the bark of a tree. For a moment he thinks he can hear the entire earth breathing.
And then a fire rushes through his chest, and turns the world to cinders.
I
t is December 1992. Outside, the jacaranda is in full flower, purple corsages dripping from its branches. Inside, Desi is struggling.
She is going through the motions of living as best she can. She eats and sleeps when her mother tells her to, and keeps away from everybody, withdrawing to her room or taking long walks on the beach. Rebecca and Pete visit frequently, and she can see how hard they are trying, but she cannot summon the energy to enjoy their company. Instead, she endures it, trying not to look at the clock.
Each day she has to remind herself that Connor is dead. She still cannot believe it. It is as though life has become nothing more than a trick of the eye, and now and again she sees through it momentarily, to confront the horror of Connor gone for eternity. But just as quickly the vision rearranges itself into a more general miasma of absence. Her family have never been churchgoers, and Desi has not paid God much attention before, but now she
says her prayers every night – as though, if she believes hard enough, and begs for long enough, Connor might still return.
Her stomach is beginning to swell. She drives to the doctor, who confirms the pregnancy. His expression turns concerned as she bursts into tears and cannot answer his question as to whether she is pleased. But the next day, with this new certainty comes a fresh determination.
Connor’s child is growing inside her. There is a connection between them now that cannot be lost.
She cradles the knowledge to herself for a little while, but once she is starting to show she decides it is time to confess. She thinks of telling her mother first, but doesn’t want to put her in an awkward position with Charlie. And above all, she wants to make it clear to her father that she is not a coward, and not ashamed. So she waits for her opportunity, which comes one morning at breakfast, while Jackson is busy playing outside.
She sits down in front of them and says without preamble, ‘I have something to tell you both. I’m pregnant.’
Hester looks up with no surprise, and Desi can see she has already guessed. Her mother’s steady gaze holds no censure, but transmits a calm strength. Meanwhile, Charlie gets up without a word, and walks away.
Desi thinks that’s it, but a few seconds later he returns, tightly gripping the top of his chair, his face burning red. He addresses Hester as though Desi isn’t there.
‘What did I tell you? He took her and used her and dumped her back here.’
Desi is up in an instant, the chair grating harshly on the tiles as she flings it away. She marches over to her father, pushing her face towards his. ‘He’s dead, Dad,’ she says, spitting each word at him, trying to catch hold of her breath. ‘He didn’t abandon me. He died.’
Her words release a torrent of emotion that washes away her composure. She runs out the kitchen door and across the caravan park, crying, not caring who sees her. She stumbles onto the beach, pockets of sand tripping and trapping her in unseen hollows. She sits down heavily and stares hard at the water.
Come back, Connor
, she pleads.
Make this nightmare go away. Make it all a terrible mistake
.
But the ocean is flat and empty all the way to the horizon.
In the following weeks, Charlie announces that Desi will need to find somewhere else to live before the baby is born. Hester tries to talk him out of it, but he will not be swayed. Desi is ambivalent. She longs for some privacy, and doesn’t want her child’s grandfather scowling every time they are in the same room. But she has no idea where she can go.
Pete is her saviour, arriving with a cheque from Connor’s family. ‘I told them about you. I hope you don’t mind,’ he says. ‘They sent this. It’ll get you a deposit and then some.’ Overwhelmed with gratitude, she writes to thank them and begins to search for somewhere to live. It seems like fate that the shack is for sale. Hester encourages her, assisting her with the bank applications and acting as guarantor for the small mortgage. Before she knows it, Desi is living in her childhood home again.
But when she moves in, she starts to discover all the things she had been too preoccupied to notice on inspection. The recent owners have not tended to the property as carefully as Hester did. As a result, the place feels unfamiliar – shabby and neglected. After Pete, Jackson and Hester have helped her move in, and left her alone, she allows herself to panic.
Why has she trapped herself by buying this house, and signing on for a mortgage? She is stuck. Once the baby has come, and she has had the first few months of government support and the extra from Connor’s money, she will have to get a job. Who will take care of her child then? And what kind of employment is she going to find around here?
One step at a time, she tells herself, during the sleepless nights that follow. Fix the house up. Sell it. You can still go north one day. She reminds herself of the risks she has already taken, hitching all the way to Monkey Mia to take a chance on her dreams. There is no reason she cannot do that again.
Except that Connor had been the source of her confidence. He was the one with the convictions, and the exciting way of thinking about the world. It would never be the same without him.
Desi becomes lost within this endless swirl of thoughts. As her belly keeps growing, her dreams begin to shrink, until they are as small as a single grain of sand, hidden with countless others along a deserted shoreline of possibilities.
She stops working on the shack, and begins to drift aimlessly through her days. The only place she feels calm is on the verandah, where she can watch the ocean. After a while, she moves an armchair outside and takes blankets too, so she can stay curled up long after it is dark, lulled by the murmuring waves. During the day, she begins to eat her meals there, checking the horizon after each bite as though the answer will eventually come into view, if only she waits long enough.
For a while the ocean becomes her closest friend. She gets to know it intimately, observing the many changes of its day. She watches as its colours merge from the lilac blues of morning to the shimmering gold of sunset. She witnesses it sparkling in sunshine and glowering in the deep grey of a storm. She sees
the smooth surface begin to roll, or become choppy with a million flashing breakers, before it subsides, and starts again. And eventually it dawns on her that this kaleidoscope of colour and animation does not begin with the ocean, but with external forces – the sun, the wind, the moon, the clouds. What would the ocean be like if you took these away? Would she recognise it at all?
Her perspective begins to shift. Perhaps her purpose was never in Monkey Mia, she consoles herself, rubbing her belly and getting an obliging kick in return. This is Connor’s child, after all. She taps her fingers against her necklace. Perhaps one day she will discern a different meaning in everything that has happened.
And yet, it still feels as though she is walking down a long, dark tunnel, with no idea what will be at the end. As she waits for her baby to arrive, one empty day follows another, until they are tethered together like paper-chain dolls, and the world outside the shack ceases to exist.
F
our a.m.
Maya’s alarm is ringing under her pillow, and she hastily switches it off. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face, and gets up with purpose, grabbing her swimsuit and pulling it on before shrugging into her wetsuit. She packed her gear last night, and now runs through her bag quickly, checking she has everything she needs.
When she opens her door, Kate is already outside, waiting.
They don’t say a word as they make their way to the beach. Maya is nervous – she knows this is a test she must pass if Kate is going to let her help. How strange that yesterday she had known so little about Kate, and nothing of her plans, and now she is consumed by her desire to be part of them.
They are navigating by the light of the moon. ‘It will be darker than this, I hope,’ Kate murmurs as they get onto the beach. ‘And we won’t have to do so much messing about with our kit – it will all be waiting for us.’
The dinghy sits on the sand. They have already attached tanks to their BCDs – all they have to do is put them on and make sure the air supply is working. They haul them into the dinghy and both move to the front, ready to drag the boat towards the ocean. When Jackson is there with Maya he takes most of the burden, so Maya is expecting them to struggle. But Kate pulls it as though it weighs nothing, and Maya focuses all her energy on keeping up with her.
Kate steadies the boat in the shallows while Maya gets in, and then climbs in herself. ‘We’ll row out,’ she says, ‘so the engine doesn’t wake anyone. We only need to go a little way.’
Maya picks up an oar, throws a quick glance at Kate, but her half-sister stares grimly ahead. They have hardly spoken about their relationship to one another, but Maya cannot help analysing Kate’s features, comparing them with her own. She thinks she can detect similarities in the curve of their eyes, and would love to ask if Kate’s noticed too. But there is an unspoken agreement between them that there will be time for all that later. And now that Maya knows the plan, she understands.
‘Okay, this will be fine,’ Kate says, throwing her oar into the bottom of the boat. She leans over the side briefly, assessing the dark water. ‘Do you remember everything you need to do?’
‘Yes,’ Maya says. ‘Quiet entry into the water, and down as quickly as possible. Only use the torch while I cut the ropes. Make sure the rope drops, or pull it away until I’m certain the hole is big enough. Then return to the boat as fast as possible. Tank unstrapped, someone will pull me in … and we go.’
‘Exactly,’ says Kate. She indicates the tanks. ‘Both of these are for you. I’m not going in.’ She grabs a thick piece of rope, ties one end to the boat, throws the other end into the water. ‘So I want you to go down there, and bring me five cut pieces of rope. I’m going to time you. You’ve got two attempts.’
‘How fast do I need to be?’
‘The fastest you can go.’
Maya looks at the opaque surface. She has done a few night dives with Jackson, but going down there on her own is a first. She thinks of sharks, considers Kate’s determined face and knows that if she even mentions them this is all over. So she pulls the tank up to the side, and Kate helps her strap it on, then gives her a hand with her fins. ‘Okay, we’ll help you this far,’ she says, ‘and after that you’re on your own. Are you ready?
Go!
’
Maya lies on the side of the boat, grabs the rope and swings her legs over, lowering herself into the water as quietly as she can. Immediately, she lets the air out of her jacket and sinks down. She is submerged in freezing black water, which crackles and sloshes around her, and she hears her breathing quicken as she tries not to think about what might be close by. Her torch is clipped to her BCD, and she fumbles switching it on. The light doesn’t penetrate far at all, just makes an empty grey dome in front of her.
She cannot find the rope.
Shit
, she thinks, swinging her torch around, losing her bearings. She shines the torch upwards to see where the dinghy is, then realises that was a bad move. However, she catches sight of the dark silhouette of the rope hanging down, and swims hard for it. She begins to saw at it with the knife. It is taking forever, but there’s no way she’s giving up.
One by one, the pieces come free. By the time she’s on her fifth and final one, she’s fed up and jittery about meeting a shark on the prowl. As soon as she has finished, she heads to the surface, throws the pieces into the dinghy, unclips her jacket, and Kate hauls the tank out. Using all her strength, Maya pulls herself up, and with Kate’s help she slides into the bottom of the dinghy.
‘Fifteen minutes,’ Kate says, her expression grim as she stops her watch. ‘You need to do it in four. And your torch is waving all over the place.’
Maya is still trying to catch her breath as she lies on the canvas when Kate says, ‘Are you ready to try again? If you can’t get under five, there’s no point.’
Half-sister or not, Maya would like to punch her. She sits up, defeated, breathing deeply. Her wetsuit presses cold against her, leaving her shivering.
‘Why do you want to be part of this, Maya?’ Kate is watching her intently. The bright moon casts a spotlit path across the inky water, all the way to the boat. There is nowhere to hide.
She remembers Luke’s story of Hayden and his friends jeering as they kicked the life out of a joey while filming it all for fun, and everything she’s witnessed since. She thinks of the way Luke spoke to her in the car, after she’d seen the first dead kangaroo. She sees the ugly scar on Caitlin’s leg, and her mother revving her engine and driving straight at Rick Carlisle.
She stands up. ‘Give me the other tank. Let’s go.’
Without a word, Kate helps her with the straps again. The second time around, once underwater, Maya’s senses are sharper. She orientates herself straight away, not even bothering with the torch. She pushes all her rage into each hack at the rope, and Kate ducks as she surfaces and throws the pieces into the boat. She waits patiently for Kate to take the tank before hauling herself over the side.
‘Six minutes,’ Kate announces. ‘Impressive.’
‘With a decent knife or some good bolt-cutters I could do it in three,’ Maya replies between pants.
‘I’m sure you could.’ Kate picks up the oars and starts to row. ‘Okay, you’re in. But time is our enemy now. How quickly can you find your passport?’