The Stranding (44 page)

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Authors: Karen Viggers

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BOOK: The Stranding
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‘If that’s how you feel, I had better go.’

On the deck, Callista paused to look out to sea where a shaft of light played through a crack in the clouds and silvered a patch of water. Here she was watching the light again, even in a crisis. She stepped slowly down the stairs, her heart tumbling.

‘I actually came to apologise,’ she said, looking back up at him.

‘What for?’ His arms were folded tight across his chest, his face blank.

‘You were right. We should have walked away, as you suggested. I was wrong to pull all that moral stuff on you.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes it does.’

‘There was no right or wrong decision.’

‘Did Dad tell you about the whale?’

‘Yes.’

‘That it’s going to die.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that why you’re leaving?’

‘No.’

‘Then why?’

He looked at her desperately and she knew he couldn’t find an answer.

You don’t know what else to do, do you, she thought.

‘When will you be leaving?’ she asked, carefully masking the tremor at the edge of her voice.

‘Tomorrow sometime. Most of this stuff can stay. I’ll have to do a few trips over the next month or so.’

Callista looked slowly around at the house, the grass shifting softly in the breeze, the moody grey skies, the slow roll of the waves, and then at Lex, standing quiet and folded into himself on the deck.

‘I guess I’ll be going then,’ she said.

In the morning Callista drove up to Jordi’s place. Mist hung wet and grey in the treetops. It dripped from the leaves, damp and cold. Jordi had moved back inside the humpy, where he kept a slow fire burning in the old stone fireplace, more for atmosphere than for warmth. He was sitting on a tattered director’s chair, watching the door as if he had been waiting for her. His beanie was pulled down hard over his ears and he was wearing a thick old duffle coat to keep him warm.

‘Tea?’ he asked, as she scraped the door shut and folded out a chair.

‘Of course.’

She sat down with him and watched the dull flames licking lazily at the heavy wood.

‘I’ve only got half an hour,’ he said. ‘I’m taking out a group of fishermen at eleven. I have to bring the boat in and organise some supplies. They want lunch as well.’

‘I won’t stay for long. I just wanted to sit with you for a while.’

Jordi poured her a cup of tea then sat the billy back inside the fireplace near the edge of the coals. She felt his eyes on her as she took a few sips, but she evaded him and he said nothing.

He gave her five quiet minutes before he banged down his cup.

‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded.

Callista’s breathing quickened. She hadn’t expected him to confront her.

‘Forget the bloody whale,’ he growled. ‘There was nothing else could be done.’

‘It’s not the whale,’ she said, feeling weak.

‘What is it then?’

‘I’m pregnant,’ she said, without looking at him.

She stared into the fire, giving in to the sweeping nausea for a few moments before looking across at him. He was watching her, uncertainty written over his face.

‘Is that good or bad?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I thought you wanted to have a baby. Have you told him yet?’

She shook her head.

‘Why not? He should be man enough to deal with it.’

‘He’s leaving.’

‘Where’s he going?’

‘Back to the city. To his old life.’

Jordi stood up. ‘No, he’s not. Not when you tell him, he won’t.’

‘I’m not going to tell him. I don’t want him if he’s dreaming after something else.’

‘Is he going back to the woman?’

‘He says not.’

‘Do you believe him?’

‘Yes. I do.’

‘Then you have to tell him. He’s a good man. If he’s the father, he’s got a right to know.’

‘What do you mean, “he’s a good man”? You’ve never particularly liked him. Don’t stand up for him now.’

‘He’s got a right to know,’ Jordi repeated stubbornly.

‘And I have a right not to tell him.’ Callista was pale and sick, but adamant. ‘I’m not going to make the same mistakes I made last time.’

‘What mistakes?’

‘Running into someone’s arms just because I’m pregnant.’

‘Lex isn’t Luke. And you don’t have to marry him straightaway.’

‘I don’t have to marry him at all.’

‘No. So why are you worried? Why can’t you just tell him and see how it goes?’

‘See how it goes! Why would anything be different?’ She shook her head. ‘I won’t do it.’

Jordi turned suddenly and kicked his chair over. He kicked it again, hard, against the wall of the shack.

‘What is wrong with you two?’ he shouted.

Callista had never seen him so angry. Her tears came from nowhere.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Every time we seem to be getting along, some issue comes up and it’s like this huge wedge that stops us from coming together.’

‘What was it this time?’

‘The whale. He wanted to walk away from it. And I wouldn’t listen to him. I hung all my guilt on him. I hung everything on getting that whale back in the water.’

‘That’s the past,’ Jordi said. ‘You’ve got this now. Can’t you see he loves you?’

How could it be so obvious to Jordi, but not to her?

‘You’ve painted your storm,’ Jordi said. ‘Now let it go. What are you expecting from Lex? Thunder and lightning? Because you won’t get it. That’s not his way.’

‘What is his way?’

He looked at her, eyes serious. ‘He’s steady. As steady as the tide.’

Then he took her hands in his, urgently. She looked down at the black soot on them, the in-ground dirt over his knuckles. And his voice kept coming at her, soft now and insistent.

‘There’s something new in your life now,’ he was saying. ‘Something exciting. A new baby. How about that! That’s the future. Your future. Your future with Lex, if you want it that way. You can’t let the past stand in the way of that. And you’ll be all right with him. You’ve grown. You’re a different person now.’

She couldn’t stop crying.

‘What about his past?’ she said. ‘It’s like some chasm I can’t ever cross.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he said. ‘The baby’s the bridge. He’ll give you what he can when he can. But you have to be prepared to let some of it go. Most of it, if you have to.’

He looked towards the door. ‘When’s he going?’ he asked.

‘Today.’

‘Look,’ Jordi said. ‘Listen to me.’

He talked then as if he had been waiting for years for the right moment to come. Observations accumulated over a lifetime flowed out. And more. The wisdom of Jimmy, of Vic, of Mrs B. All the depth behind that silence.

When he was finished, he hugged her and she stood for a minute, wildly uncertain, staring desperately into his eyes.

At last she made a decision and ran out of the hut. She flung herself into the Kombi, slammed the door and started it with a roar, tossing a wave at Jordi through the window. He was standing in the doorway of the hut, watching her with sad eyes, aching for her pain and her indecision. This moment surely was her transition to womanhood. The finding of the strength to be humble.

The old car bounced down the track, clanking over the washouts. She swung it onto the road, skating sideways in the gravel, then floored the accelerator, trying not to take the curves too recklessly. There might still be time. She might make it to the Point before Lex left.

What was it Jordi had said?

You don’t have to think the same. You don’t even have to agree. Embrace your differences. In the end they’re what make you interesting. She should let Lex bring his love to her in his own way—like the tide—slow, consistent, dependable, leaving small unexpected gifts of love, as precious as pearls.

You have all that it takes, Jordi had said. Courage. Persistence. And strength. With the right ingredients, there’s always a chance for happiness.

Acknowledgements

For helping me find time to write this book somewhere within our hectic family schedule, I thank David, Ryan, Nina and Marjorie. For early readings and constructive comments, my gratitude and appreciation go to David Lindenmayer, Fiona Viggers and Vicky Heywood. Thank you to Fiona Inglis at Curtis Brown for making this happen. Thanks also to Jane Palfreyman for wonderful, sensitive editorial input and to all the other fabulous staff at Allen & Unwin who have helped me. I wish to acknowledge my veterinary colleagues who have shared their experiences of whale strandings at various wildlife conferences I have attended over the years. Their comments and stories have inspired elements of this book.

Thank you to my mother, Diana, for her lifelong encouragement; my father, Jim, for his interest and support. And a special and deeply heartfelt thank you to my husband, David, for his patience, positivity and love. I dedicate this book to him.

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