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In At the Deep End Page 10
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‘You?’
He shakes his head. ‘If we get the ship he already has me.’ He hesitates. ‘It’d be more likely to be a woman anyway. Someone capable. Gutsy. Someone like Kat.’
Per has pinpointed all my vulnerabilities—my fear of the water, guilt about losing The Watch, passion for the foundation. And I appreciate he’s insulting me as a means to an end—he thinks if I can swim I’ll be more useful to the foundation. My eyes are burning so I switch off the light on the bedside table. When he stays in the shadows I turn my back on him and lie down. My shoulder aches and my hip is uncomfortable. My chin stings when I rest my face on the pillow.
I want to say I’ll see him on Monday week so that he’ll leave, but it’s impossible to hold the tears in. All I can do is swallow, and make muffled whimpering noises. It’s pathetic. After a while he walks to my bed. When he touches my hair I jerk away, and then make a squeaking noise because my shoulder pulls.
He takes a step back and speaks in a gruff whisper. ‘Harriet? What’s your answer?’
Grant was young and thoughtless when he humiliated me. Per is acting deliberately. He’s powerful. He has to be in control. Finally I manage a reply.
‘Like you said, sir, it seems I have no choice.’
CHAPTER
14
Allan is facing a group of Amazons, and supervising their stretches. It’s sunrise, and I’m walking along the beach in their direction. My leg is stiff and sore, and my face is red and bruised, but my shoulder is feeling much better. Liam grunted as I tiptoed down the hall at six o’clock. He told me he’d serve breakfast on the deck in two hours, so I’d better be back in time. I’ve taken the sling off my arm because I need my right hand. I walk up the steps to the paved area in front of the surf club and sit on a bench. The easterly breeze has flattened the surf so there are more paddle boarders than surfers out in the swell. I watch them for a few minutes before opening my sketchbook.
I rarely do self-portraits, but I have to get these images out of my mind and onto the page. I’m wild-eyed and angry in the first sketch. In the second I’m in the sea. Lifeless eyes stare back at me. My mouth is open.
I have no idea that Jonty is behind me until he speaks. ‘Hi, Harry. What’re you drawing? Who’s that?’
‘You gave me a fright. And I’m insulted. I’m drawing myself.’
He tilts his head to the side and gives my face a once over, and then he glances at the sketch again.
‘How come she hasn’t got gravel rash and a black eye? That’d be deadly. How’s Dougal? Gran said he’s got a broken leg.’
‘He has. I’m in much better shape than him.’
‘Can I come to your house today? Else I’m stuck with Gran. She locks me up in the afternoons. Like prison.’
Jonty lives with Helga most of the time because he’s not getting on well with his father. When I give him a schoolteacher look, he curls his lip. Perhaps his dad is right— Jonty has been spending too much time hanging around with older kids, the ones who smoke dope and skip school.
‘Your mum and dad want you to go to another school, closer to where they live, and further away from the beach. Helga is helping you out by letting you live with her. She’s the one stuck with you, isn’t she?’
‘Guess,’ he says.
‘Drew will be at my house this afternoon. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. And maybe you can surf with Liam later, if it’s okay with Helga.’
I give Jonty money for a coffee and a Coke at the surf club café and then I look at the page in front of me. All I see is a lousy derivative of Munch’s The Scream. In the scheme of things—drought in Bangladesh, the highest tides ever in the Maldives, armed militia killing innocent civilians in Sudan—going back in the water is no big deal. Because all I’ll have to endure is heart palpitations, migraines, panic attacks and nightmares. In the meantime, I’ll continue to raise funds for The Adélie whether I get to go to Palau or not. I rip out the sketch, scrunch it into a ball, and throw it into the bin a few metres away. A man holding a little girl’s hand is walking past. He must have seen my throw because he gives me a thumbs up. I don’t know him, but he recognises me.
‘Harriet Scott! What’ve you done to yourself, then?’
‘Had a fall last night. Nothing serious.’ I wave at the little girl. She’s about four, with long black hair. When she stares at me the man tugs her hand.
‘Don’t gawp, Ava. Say hello. You know Harriet. From the television.’
The girl’s eyes widen. I smile at her. ‘Hi, Ava. My face is swollen. Have you ever hurt yourself and got a bruise?’
‘I fell off my bike and my knee had blood and I had to go to the doctor.’
‘Were you speeding down a mountain?’
‘I was at the bike park. I like your long hair.’
My hair is blowing around everywhere—I can’t put my arms behind my head to tie it back.
‘Thanks,’ I say, patting the space next to me. ‘Come and tell me about the bike park. Any ramps or jumps?’
After Ava has filled me in, and I’ve said goodbye to her and her dad, I contemplate the first sketch. Why did I get so upset last night? I don’t like the idea of Tan questioning my commitment to the foundation. I don’t like the way that he and Per are forcing me to swim on their terms. I’m sick of being told I’m incompetent. But there’s no need to be wild-eyed angry like I am in my drawing. Cool-calm angry is much better. I tear out the page and rip it into eighths. Then getting up carefully, I walk to the bin, and watch as the pieces of the sketch flutter through my fingers.
Jonty gobbles down two poached eggs and three slices of toast. Then I send him to Helga’s house to ask if it’s all right for him to spend the day with me.
Liam is poking at my chin. ‘Looks okay.’
‘Can I take the plaster off?’
‘No. Like Polarman said, it’ll scar if it’s not taped up.’
I shake my head. ‘You’re the medical doctor. You don’t have to defer to him.’
Liam goes to the kitchen when the toaster pops up. He comes back to the table and throws a slice of toast on my plate, and one on his.
He sits, and shrugs. ‘Reckon he’s had experience on the battlefield though. You know, bullet wounds, land mine victims, that type of thing.’
I’d like to argue but it wouldn’t feel right. I can see Per all too easily in that setting.
‘You’re not over your crush, then?’ I say.
‘The way I wedged you into bed last night was his idea. Bloody good solution for hip and shoulder injuries where there’s no hospital bed to jack you up.’
I roll my eyes. After Per walked out of my room, I heard him knock on Liam’s door. They talked for a few minutes in an undertone before Per left. After I’d been to the bathroom, Liam came and made me comfortable with cushions and pillows.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I concede it was a good position.’
‘What about the position I interrupted?’
‘Please don’t bring that up.’ I move my plate out of the way, rest my hot face on my forearms on the table, and look at him side on. ‘He wanted to find out whether you and I were together, that’s all.’
Liam nudges my arm until I raise my head. ‘He could’ve just asked,’ he says. ‘Why did he care anyway? Why did he kiss you?’
‘I’m not sure that he did.’
Liam laughs. ‘You’re not sure?’
‘Shut up, Liam. It was complicated. And your fascination with him is driving me mad.’
‘Polarman doesn’t know that you’re tough. He’s just concerned.’
‘Concerned he won’t get his ship. Other than that, there’s nothing.’
‘So why’d he have an erection?’
‘What!’ I jump up to clear the plates away. ‘Liam, please stop.’
‘Just stating a fact. When he … may or may not have kissed you, he had an erection.’
‘How would you even know that?’
Liam puts on a serious face and deepens
his voice. ‘I’m a doctor, Harry. Trained to observe subtle changes in the human body.’
I put my hands over my ears. ‘Liam!’
‘Even though this particular change wasn’t at all—’
‘Liam!’ My face is really hot now. Did Per have an erection? I guess men get them all the time so it’s no big deal. But … I close my eyes. Oh God. Is that what I was rubbing myself up against when my feet were off the ground and I was straddling his leg?
I throw the cutlery into the sink and swish the water around. Images of Per and the water are all mixed up. I’m breathing too fast and then I’m light-headed. Liam must see it. He puts his hands around my waist and pulls me away from the sink.
‘I agree he’s a control freak, Harry,’ he says. ‘But he’s also an action hero. At least he’ll keep you safe.’
The Scott Foundation: Environment Adventure Education
Robert Falcon Scott was en route to the South Pole on his ship, the Terra Nova, when he received a telegram from Roald Amundsen. The telegram read, ‘Beg to inform you Fram proceeding Antarctic.’ Amundsen, on learning two Americans had made it to the North Pole before him, had decided to venture to the South Pole instead.
Fram means ‘forward’ in Norwegian—a fitting name for Amundsen’s ship because once Amundsen had decided on a course of action he pursued it aggressively. Even though going to the South Pole in Scott’s wake, largely unannounced, was thought to be an ungentlemanly thing to do, Amundsen would not be deterred …
Harriet
Harriet. Only from the British point of view was it thought that Amundsen acted inappropriately. I repeat—don’t post anything without checking with me first. Per
CHAPTER
15
The bruising on my face is hardly noticeable by Wednesday, and the graze is settling down. The only mark on my chin is a short red line, covered by a narrow strip of plaster. I’m not fit to play football yet but I’ve agreed to stand in for Allan as coach. He’s staying home with Dougal. My hand is on the front door knob when someone knocks.
‘Hey, Harry.’
Kat is wearing leathers, and running her fingers through her hair to spike it up. She grimaces when she sees my face, but I think she’s more interested in my football boots than my grazes.
‘Per said you were a mess. Sorry to gate crash. What’s with the gear?’
Anything I say to Kat will be reported back to Per. She told him that I was frightened when she splashed in the waves, and that she didn’t think Liam and I were together. I knew she and Per were close. It was stupid to have been so open with her, walking on the beach, sharing a meal. I’ve learnt my lesson.
‘I’m on my way out,’ I say.
She shuffles her feet. ‘Sure. No problem.’
Neither of us speaks as I throw the kit bag into the back of my car. Her bike is parked behind it in the driveway.
‘You’ll have to move your bike.’
‘Per warned me you’d be mad.’
I turn and face her. ‘The work I do for the foundation is my public life. The rest of my life is private. I made a decision to keep it that way when I was eighteen. I only mix with people who respect that, who don’t gossip about me.’
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘I get that now.’
She can fearlessly pilot a boat in a Southern Ocean storm. But now she’s flustered and awkward.
‘I’m grateful for what you did in Antarctica, Kat. I’ll always be thankful to you and Per for that.’
‘But you don’t want to see me again, right?’
I shrug. ‘Sorry.’
Her shoulders lift when she sighs. ‘It’s all Per’s fault. He sits me down and asks me questions like he already knows the answers.’ She slowly shakes her head. ‘It gets me every time.’
It’s impossible not to like her. ‘I hope you have a suicide pill,’ I say. ‘You’d be useless in enemy hands.’
‘I’ll try harder next time, Harry. I promise.’
She must think I’m weakening. ‘There won’t be a next time. You and Per talk, you’re friends, but that’s okay.’
‘We’re not friends officially. He’s too high ranked for that. Why are you wearing footy gear? They’re indoor boots, right? Don’t know that Per would think you’re ready for a contact sport—’
‘I have to go. My team’s waiting.’
‘I’ve got something for you.’ Kat opens the storage compartment on her bike and takes out a large black backpack with a small red, white and blue Norwegian flag embroidered on the top. ‘Per thought this might be better coming from me. It’s the best you can get. Full body, leak-proof, welded seams. Back zip with internal neck seal. Four-millimetre thickness for warmth and flexibility. It’s hard-core naval, so he had to get a sign off from the quartermaster.’
I swallow. ‘I already have a wetsuit.’
‘It won’t be as good as this one. Not for the ocean in the middle of winter.’
So we will be at Avalon. I’ll be able to make a fool of myself on home turf. When I don’t make a move to open the bag, Kat takes it out of my hands and pulls out a wetsuit, wrapped in plastic, and then she burrows some more, and shows me thermal skins—mid-thigh bike pants, and a long-sleeved shirt. She measures the thermals against my chest.
‘It cost a couple of thousand all up,’ she says.
‘Two thousand dollars?’
She shrugs. ‘That’s what they cost. Per paid for it, he didn’t care.’
‘I care!’ I grab the gear out of Kat’s hands. It’s difficult to cram everything back into the bag but I manage it eventually. Then I zip it up. She’s watching me, and grimacing.
‘You don’t like it?’ she says.
‘I hate it. And you’re welcome to pass that on. Then he won’t have to get his water board out.’
She frowns. ‘That’s pretty offensive. Waterboarding’s torture, you know.’
‘Yeah … well, so is what he’s doing to me. Just tell him I have my own wetsuit. I don’t want his.’
‘What’s he going to do with it?’
‘He can shove it down his throat for all I care. Assuming he’s capable of opening his mouth. Or,’ I thrust the bag at her midriff, ‘he can give it to the foundation’s new poster girl.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Ask him!’
Before Kat can say anything else I get behind the wheel and start the car. She has no option but to move her bike out of the way.
It’s a five-minute drive to the community centre. I spend every minute of it kicking myself for losing my temper. Why didn’t I tell Kat I didn’t want the wetsuit because I want to wear Mum’s? And why didn’t I say that in any case I don’t want Per buying me things? Why did I talk about his mouth? She’s bound to tell him everything. Will he connect what I said to what happened in my bedroom? To the way I ran my tongue along the crease between his lips? It’s worse than mortifying. And raising the issue of an alternative poster girl wasn’t much better. It’ll sound as if I actually care about him speaking to Tan about replacing me. Of course I do, but why did I risk letting him know that?
I’m pretty sure Grant is watching out for me at the door to the community centre because as soon as I approach he looks the other way. He’s still blocking the entrance though, so I’ll have to deal with him. Do I tell him to fuck off? Or would that be making a fuss over nothing? We were together a long time ago, and his reputation suffered more than mine did after we broke up. Bragging about a fling with a recently orphaned eighteen-year-old was never going to endear him to the locals.
‘Hi, Grant.’
He turns around. ‘Harry!’
I step into the light.
‘What the hell?’ he says.
‘Dougal knocked me over. Your uncle’s looking after him.’
‘Heard about Dougal. Didn’t realise you were involved.’
‘Are you visiting your parents?’
‘Worse than that. I’m living with them for a couple of months.’ He grins. It’s the same boyi
sh smile he had eight years ago, the one that used to turn my knees to jelly. ‘I’ve bought an inner-west practice with a couple of colleagues. I’m working for my uncle and doing locum roles around here until the place is ready. Then I’ll move back to the city.’
‘How’d you get into a football team midseason?’
‘That’s a locum role too. One of the guys did his Achilles a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Right. Better get my team warmed up.’
I’m still congratulating myself on how calmly I handled Grant, and looking forward to telling Liam about it, when the whistle blows to start the second half. Grant appears a few minutes later, joining me on the sideline.
‘So you’re teaching now?’ he says.
‘Yes. Geography.’
‘I can see you doing that. I bet the students love you.’
‘They’re great.’
‘You haven’t changed much, Harry.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Still beautiful, even bashed up.’
Grant has kept his distance, not saying anything about me publicly since that one indiscretion eight years ago. And if it hadn’t been him who’d forced me to grow up, it would have been someone else. But seeing him gives me an ache deep in my chest because it reminds me of everything I lost at eighteen. My virginity didn’t matter much. My innocence mattered a lot. He took away the part of me that used to see the good in everyone.
‘Maybe we could have a drink one night?’ he says.
‘Thanks. But I’m pretty busy.’ When I offer him my hand he hesitates, but then he shakes it. I give him a wooden smile, and take my hand back. Then I walk away.
Kat mustn’t have waited long to fill Per in about the wetsuit. When I check my phone after yet another loss in football, there’s a text on the screen.
Harriet. Confirming Monday 0600. On your rear balcony. Before we do anything we need to talk. Per.
CHAPTER
16
The tide is out so I can barely see the ocean from the top step of the back deck. It’s 5.45 am and I’m waiting for Per to arrive.