The Girl in the Yellow Vest (30 page)

‘Actually, Ms Templeton, I’ve been meaning to call you.’

She cleared her throat. ‘You have?’

‘Emily Woods mentioned you used to be a psychologist.’

‘Yes, yes, I was. I am.’

He nodded. ‘How would you feel about taking on a part-time role with Barnes Inc, as our counsellor? You’d only work a few hours a week.’

Excitement, hope and fear collided in her chest. ‘Are you serious?’

He sighed. ‘Didn’t I just mention that I don’t, in general –’

‘Make jokes,’ she finished for him. ‘Yes, yes. Got it. What I meant was, why do you need a counsellor?’

‘I’m concerned about my men. I think they need an unbiased third party to talk to. You’re right about the alcoholism. I think it’s on the high side.’

She couldn’t believe it. Was he finally going to do something about the problem she’d been raising for weeks? She nearly jumped for joy but didn’t. They had just reached the top of some stairs and leaping definitely wouldn’t be a good idea.

‘I would need to check with my brother,’ she said, slowly descending. ‘If I’m at Barnes Inc I’ll need him to help look after Mum. I don’t think Zara will be very reliable even if I only worked afterschool hours.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’

The fact that he even had an opinion on the subject momentarily took her aback. Her brow furrowed. ‘Zara’s a teenage girl. Her social life always comes first.’

‘If you haven’t noticed, she’s also a very sensitive young woman.’

She bit her lip, stung by his words. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed . . . Okay, she
hadn’t
noticed. But even before the revelation about Zara’s father, they had been far too busy fighting to have any meaningful conversations.

‘I’m sure,’ he continued smoothly, ‘she would be willing to help out if you explained your emotional situation to her.’

This jarred her out of reflection. ‘My
emotional
situation?’ She coughed so indignantly that she nearly skipped a step and tumbled down the stairs.

‘Your deteriorated self-worth after having had to give up your career to look after her.’

Her mind boggled. ‘How dare you? You know nothing about me or how I may or may not feel about
anything
.’

‘On the contrary, Ms Templeton, I know a great deal. I know how hard you work, how worried you are about your mother and how protective you are of your sister. You don’t have any friends because you don’t have any spare time. You can’t help your sister with her problems because you’re too close to them. You hold onto everything so tightly, which is why, Ms Templeton, your brother has told you to get a hobby.’

‘Wow.’ Her throat was as dry as her tone. ‘Ten points to you. And what possible proof do you have to back all this up?’

‘Zara told me.’

Great.

So there was probably no use denying it then. By this stage they had arrived on the lower deck and were being told to pick out their wetsuit sizes, flippers, masks and tanks from the racks and bins around them. She used the opportunity to move away from him, so she wouldn’t have to talk any more – especially about herself. Of all the people Zara had to get chummy with, why him?

She prayed to God she hadn’t told him anything about her biological father. She really didn’t want a man like Mark Crawford knowing something that intimate about their family.

The job at Barnes Inc, however, was another story. She wanted that. As reluctant as she was to admit it, over the years she
had
felt she’d lost a lot in giving up her profession to raise Zara and look after their mother. She couldn’t say that she didn’t often feel short-changed. This was her ticket back to her career. And it would just be part time – a few hours a week.

Perfect.

She chose her wetsuit and a pair of yellow flippers in her size and got changed. She had her bathers on under her clothes, so it was easy enough to slip off her dress and pull on the suit. As she zipped up over her chest, she caught him watching her with a peculiar intensity and thought it a good time to walk back over. He already had his suit on too.

‘I accept your job offer,’ she said formally. ‘When do you want me to start?’

‘As soon as you can.’

She wanted to say more but the diving instructor, now also in a wet suit, was calling the attention of the group.

‘Before we even enter the water, we’d like to give you a short twenty-minute demonstration on equipment use and safety techniques. Then we’ll do some practice above water. We’re also going to teach you a few hand signals because, as you know, speaking underwater is impossible. Please be aware that after doing this course you are not a professional diver. We aren’t going down too far today so this presentation is designed just to help tourists see the reef.’

Charlotte pulled her mind back to the task at hand. She couldn’t afford not to be concentrating right now. After signing that indemnity form she was under no illusions as to the possible dangers she faced under the water. The diving instructor went on to explain the gear. In particular, the vest that controlled their buoyancy or BCD while diving. It was operated by a simple push-button mechanism.

‘You dump all the air to get to the bottom,’ he said, ‘then adjust air in your BCD while at the bottom to obtain neutral buoyancy during your dive. When it’s time to surface, you dump all the air in your BCD and swim to the surface in a controlled manner.’

When Charlotte first tried the breathing apparatus she was very nervous and didn’t realise that she was taking in short sharp breaths.

The instructor laughed. ‘Just breathe normally or you’ll use up all your air.’

Yikes!

Consciously, she slowed her breathing down and started to get used to having the mask over her eyes and nose and something in her mouth. On the diving deck there was a giant hole in the floor so that the class could all sit in the water and practise near the surface. They did a short test of the equipment to make sure everyone had the hang of breathing underwater. They also learned how to empty their masks, should they accidently fill with water while they were swimming.

Mark sat calmly beside her. It was funny watching him taking instructions instead of barking them. His submissiveness intrigued her. It also made her cross. How was it fair that he knew so much about her and she barely knew a thing about him? He was a constant mystery to her. While he apparently found her utterly predictable, she had no idea what he would do next or why. There was no pattern to his behaviour at all. At first glance, one would say he was a rude, arrogant bastard. But he had saved that scrub turkey’s life and made friends with her sister when no else had been able to reach her. Not even Charlotte herself.

Now here he was offering her a job because he claimed to ‘care’ about his men and going diving because he needed to ‘broaden his horizons’. Or perhaps his wife thought he did. Her mind turned suddenly to Mrs Crawford. Who was this woman? What was she like? And how had she ever agreed to shack up with such an inflexible, immovable man?

There had to be another side to Mark Crawford that she didn’t know about. She remembered that brief glorious smile he’d given her on the sun deck and a shudder rippled through her body. Yes, she had a feeling there was a lot more to Mark Crawford than she knew.

‘Ms Templeton.’ She quickly glanced up as the subject of her thoughts claimed her attention. ‘It’s your turn to go in.’

Heat infused her face.

Damn it!

She hadn’t been listening again and now it was do or die time.

‘Ready to go in?’ One of the instructors held out his hand to her. Pride made her nod and pull her mask down over her eyes. ‘Remember to hold onto the rope,’ he said before pulling her into the water.

Oh shit! What rope?

She really should have been listening instead of speculating about Mark’s personality – a mystery that in her case would probably never be solved. To her relief, she saw immediately what he was referring to and was able to fill in the blanks in her own head. There was a rope attached to the pontoon that seemed to go down into the ocean alongside the coral reef. She could not see the end of it but there were other amateur divers in front of her holding onto it. It was clear the rope was the path of the tour and as long as they stuck near to it they would be fine.

She took the rope and followed the person in front of her.

Cured of her panic, she was finally able to take in the new world around her.

It was magic.

The coral was so full of life and colour. The fish surrounded and engulfed her. Bubbles from their fins burst against her mask until the scene before her cleared again. Her body began to relax. The weightlessness of being in the water started to feel less alien and more enjoyable. It was so peaceful down there with the main sounds the inhale and exhale of her own breath. The coral was beautiful. A bed of flowers in the spring wouldn’t be as glorious.

Slow, steady and gaining confidence, she continued to hold onto the rope and moved forwards. There was a point beside the reef where it stopped. It was attached to some sort of mooring buoy that was anchored to the ocean bed. Here divers were encouraged by the instructors to leave the rope and move in closer to the reef for a better look.

One instructor came up to her and lifted his hand to signal, ‘Are you okay?’

She returned it with a nod and he swam on.

It was easy to get lost in the enchanted world around her. To watch as a manta ray swam beneath her feet and tiny fish danced across the knuckles of one hand. For ten wonderful minutes, she was enthralled and then she turned around and realised she was alone. The tour group had moved on.

What! Surely not?

In panic, she swam back from the reef so that she could see further around it in both directions. It only took her a few seconds to respot her group. They were all swimming towards the rope and were heading up to the surface again. The tour was over.

Her relief, however, was short-lived. She tried to swim back to her group but couldn’t. The current was against her and seemed to be pulling her out in a completely different direction. She kicked desperately towards the group but barely moved. After a few minutes her arms and legs ached from the exertion of trying to break free of the current. The worst part was she couldn’t scream or call out to the others that she was being dragged off by some sort of underwater rip. Her eyes boggled from their sockets as she grew tired.

What do I do? What do I do?

Pain shot up her leg. She had a cramp and treading water was now near impossible. As she began to float away, she saw one of the divers detach from the group and swim towards her. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or flabbergasted. If the person came for her, he or she would be caught in this current too. Swimming with the flow, he reached her easily.

It was Mark. Even masked, she’d know him anywhere.

He took her hand and held tight. He wasn’t trying to swim or anything. They were simply riding the stream. He showed her his thumb indicating they should surface. She supposed it wasn’t a bad plan. They couldn’t ride this current indefinitely. Their tanks certainly weren’t limitless.

So instead of trying to swim back they swam up, pausing briefly halfway to equalise. She used her BCD to help her gain more buoyancy and lift out of the rip. They made it to the surface at least a hundred metres from the pontoon, erupting from the water with a splash.

Mark pushed his mask off his face and spat out his mouthpiece.

‘Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?’

‘I couldn’t help it. I got caught by a current.’

‘Of course you did! That’s exactly what they said would happen if you moved too far away from the reef or the rope in precisely that direction.’ He had been holding tightly to her wrist but at these words he tossed it away from him in disgust.

‘Yeah, well –’

‘Weren’t you listening when the instructor was telling us the tour pathway?’

Wasn’t that when I was daydreaming?
‘Of course!’ She lifted her chin defiantly.

‘Then why didn’t you get back on the rope? Have you got a death wish? Do you want to drown?’

Now she was beginning to get cross. It was rather sweet and a little strange that he cared about her safety but it didn’t give him the right to give her a lecture. She wasn’t one of his engineers. ‘Now just hang on a minute there –’

‘Of all the irresponsible, reckless, thoughtless, dumb –’ He broke off as words failed him.

‘Look, I’m sorry –’

‘You’re
sorry
.’ He spat the word like it was the height of inadequacy and for a second she glimpsed his pain. It streaked across his face like a splash of red paint. And in that moment she realised there was more going on here than her brush with a runaway stream of water. ‘Don’t you think I’ve had enough loss in my life?’ He flung the words at her before turning and swimming towards the pontoon. Just as he was leaving, another diver surfaced beside her. It was one of the instructors, who pushed his mask off his face and grinned at her.

‘You two catching a quick romantic getaway or something?’

She wanted to scream but took a deep breath before saying, ‘No, I got caught in the current.’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, I saw. Your partner was quicker than me and very good. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s been diving before.’

She turned her head and watched Mark cut through the waves back to the pontoon and for once was too distracted to tell the instructor he was not her partner. Yes, there was a lot about Mark Crawford she didn’t know.

She also swam to the pontoon and hauled herself up onto the deck beside the instructor. They removed their flippers and carried them to the diving instruction room. They found Mark already there, peeling off his wetsuit.

‘I need to return to the group to help everyone else surface,’ the diving instructor said. ‘So I’ll leave you two to get changed.’

‘Sure.’ Mark said flippantly and threw his mask into a bin that was labelled for them.

Charlotte also put her mask in the bin but a little more gently.

The instructor nodded and then walked over to the far side of the room and re-entered the water through the hole in the floor.