The Reef Read online

  Jennifer glanced at the kitchen clock and wished she was still in bed. ‘I don’t know. It’s too early to think about it.’

  ‘Goodness me, you can’t waste time sleeping in.’

  ‘I am on holidays, Mum,’ said Jennifer, more snappily than she meant to. ‘I don’t know, do you have any plans?’

  ‘I never do anything, so what would I know? I never go out much. I work, come home and clean up. It’s pretty quiet around here.’ Not like smart Sydney and all the fun things you get to do . . . hung in the air unsaid.

  ‘I thought you told me you went to the club, and the pictures with Elaine. And what happened to the Bridge group?’

  Her mother stubbed out her cigarette and gathered her dressing gown around her. ‘One time. That’s all, Jennifer. And I don’t go to the club very often. I can’t afford it. And that Bridge group was very snippy. Complained about every bid and every card I played. I wasn’t going to be treated like that.’ She carried the ashtray and tea mug to the sink.

  Jennifer spoke cautiously. ‘I thought I might have a day out on my own today. Hire a bike, maybe head out to the old place, say hello to Mr Allen.’

  ‘What on earth for? Well, if you’d prefer to spend time with people you hardly knew when you were a child . . .’ Christina flounced back into the bedroom.

  Jennifer put her head in her hands. She’d take her mother to the pictures, then they wouldn’t have to talk. Somehow she’d break the news that she had to go back to Sydney early. She’d think of a reason for cutting her holiday short.

  Her mother stood beside her on the railway platform, radiating hurt and martyrdom. Jennifer glanced at her watch. Four minutes to go.

  ‘Won’t you be lonely back up there? Surely everyone will still be away enjoying their holidays until classes start?’

  ‘No, Mum, there’re always heaps of students around. Many can’t afford to leave, or they get summer jobs. I’m hoping Blair can help me get a job in the local cafe, I’ll make a lot more than in the library.’ Hell! It had just slipped out. Would her mother pick up on it?

  Christina pounced, turning wide, interested eyes to Jennifer. ‘Blair? Who’s Blair? Have you mentioned him before? A friend, is he? Or is he the owner of the cafe? Frankly, I don’t think waitressing is a very ladylike job, Jennifer.’

  ‘It’s a cutesy place that’s very popular with the uni crowd. You don’t get a lot of tips as most people there are also poor students. But it’s considered a good job.’

  ‘And this Blair, he works there?’

  ‘He was a chef, he’s now assistant to the manager at a new hotel.’

  ‘I see. A cook. A good friend, is he?’

  ‘Ah yes, kind of. I have a lot of friends.’ Where’s the damn train?

  ‘That’s nice for you. But he’s a special friend, I take it?’ Her eyes hadn’t left Jennifer’s face, noting her discomfort.

  ‘Kind of. Well, yes. We go out a bit.’

  ‘So my daughter has a boyfriend. Well. I hope he’s a nice boy, Jennifer, you know what I mean? From a nice family that teaches their son to respect girls.’

  ‘He’s very nice. Don and Vi like him a lot.’ Oh hell!

  ‘They do, do they? They’ve met this boy and I’ve never even been told he exists. By my own daughter, or my brother and his wife.’ There was a pitiful catch in her voice.

  ‘Mum, here comes the train. Look, don’t be like that. No one thought to mention it because it’s no big deal, there’s nothing serious. I go out with lots of different people,’ she lied quickly.

  ‘I suppose you want to go back early so you can see this person?’

  She hugged her mother. ‘No, he’s away with his family. Thanks for a wonderful time. I’ll phone you tomorrow night. I’ll try to come again at Easter. Bye, Mum.’ She grabbed her suitcase and bundled it into the carriage.

  As Jennifer sank into her seat the train moved forward, passing the figure of her mother with shoulders slumped, head down, as she trudged, so sadly, along the platform. Furiously Jennifer slammed her handbag under her seat.

  Blair wasn’t due back for another week. Despite what Jennifer had told her mother, all her usual haunts were half empty or filled with tourists. She decided to go down to Circular Quay for brunch. Blair had told her of a little outdoor place near the hotel where he worked.

  When she got there she was shocked to see Blair sitting at a table under an umbrella with a girl and two other men. She stopped, embarrassed, but it was too late to turn away. He leapt to his feet.

  ‘Jenny! Hey! Come here.’

  Shyly, she joined the group and was surprised when Blair hugged her effusively. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?’

  ‘You told me you’d be up north for another week or more,’ she said lightly.

  ‘Touché, Blair . . . you’d better confess,’ laughed one of the boys.

  Blair looked sheepish. ‘Pranged my brother’s motorbike, had a row with my dad and my mother threatened to walk out, so I was stuck with cooking for fifteen people. Bugger that. I had an urgent call to come back to work,’ he laughed. ‘And these are some of my work mates. This is Jennifer who I was telling you about.’ He pulled her down next to him. ‘Let’s order a bottle of wine to celebrate.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘How come you’re back early too?’

  Jennifer couldn’t help laughing. ‘Couldn’t take the mothering any longer.’

  The brunch lingered into the early afternoon. They caught a taxi back to Blair’s place and Jennifer felt flushed and tipsy.

  ‘Too hot to do much. Do you want to go for a swim?’ asked Blair, as he flung open doors and windows.

  ‘The beach will be hot and crowded. I might go home and have a nap.’

  ‘You can rest here. I’ll watch the cricket on the sofa. We can go out when it cools down.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ sighed Jennifer. Blair kissed her and led her to the cool, dark bedroom.

  They kissed again and fell back on the bed. ‘On second thoughts, the cricket can wait. Can I stay with you?’ He ran his hand along her cheek and down her throat, kissing the top of a breast.

  ‘Oh, yes, do,’ sighed Jennifer and drew his body close to hers.

  Three weeks later Jennifer moved in with Blair.

  She was in Blair’s den where they’d set up her desk and bookcase when Aunty Vi rang.

  ‘Jenny, dear, I think you and Blair better know – your mother has sold her house. She’s moving up here. Staying with us. To be near to you. Shall you speak to her or shall I? I don’t know why she didn’t want me to tell you. Wanted it to be a surprise. Don thinks she should have consulted you.’

  Jennifer rubbed her eyes. ‘No, she wouldn’t do that in case I tried to talk her out of it. She doesn’t want to surprise me, she wants to make a scene and mess up my life.’

  ‘Oh, Jen, that’s a bit harsh. She’s lonely and misses you. She can stay here as long as she wants.’

  ‘Aunty Vi, that’s nice of you, but I wouldn’t actually say that to her.’ Jennifer slowly replaced the phone. ‘Well,’ she thought, ‘this is going to test the strength of the bond between me and Blair.’

  3

  Sydney, 1997

  Sea Borne

  THE MARRIAGE OF BLAIR and Jennifer was a modest occasion, though the weeks leading to the day had been occasionally stressful and frustrating. Now as Jennifer walked down the aisle of the small church in Lavender Bay, her arm linked through Blair’s, she was only peripherally aware of the blur of smiling faces from the pews. The church was cool and shadowy in the late afternoon light, but what beckoned, drew her forward, was the bright sunlight glaring through the stained glass window. To her it represented the future. A step into a new life with Blair, and, as much as she hated to admit it, an escape from the oppressive presence of her mother.

  What an emotional roller-coaster the year had been since Christina had moved to Sydney. She had entrenched herself in the downstairs bedroom and ensuite at Vi and Don’s and spread out onto the p
atio, so she had small but comfortable private quarters. Her brother always had an escape to his bird pens in the backyard while Vi had struggled with the adjustment of a domineering woman in the household. There were occasional upsets.

  ‘I was only trying to be helpful, Vi. If you’d rather I sat back like Lady Muck and let you do all the washing, cooking and cleaning, then fine. I’m just trying to pull my weight.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Tina. But you know how it is, you have your own system and routine for these things . . .’ Small laugh. ‘I’m a bit set in my ways after all these years, and I’ve figured out the most hassle-free way to get the jobs done.’ Unlike you, Tina. You have a knack of turning any task into a drama.

  ‘Well, as my mother always said, if you’re going to do anything, do it properly. I just feel helping out is the least I can do as you’ve both taken me in.’ Sniff. ‘Seeing how my own daughter has rejected me.’

  ‘Now Tina, stop that silliness. Jenny is a young woman at university, she shouldn’t be living with her mother in some small uncomfortable place. You’re much better off here with us. There’s plenty of room.’

  ‘I could buy a little place . . .’

  Vi’s patience was running out, her voice was firm. ‘Now, we’ve been through that one. Don is right, you save your money until you decide what you want to do. Let’s all support Jenny and be here for her as family and when she graduates then let’s see what the future holds. Maybe you could take a trip.’

  ‘That’d be nice. Jennifer and I sailing to Europe . . .’

  Vi hoped Tina wouldn’t suggest that to poor Jenny. ‘Heavens, Tina, I was thinking you should see Australia. Go north, or over to the west, the outback. You never know who you’ll meet.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly travel on my own.’

  Vi suddenly remembered the ill-fated caravan trip to the coast. ‘I was thinking of groups, go with people your own age, who have the same interests.’ She saw Christina’s lips tighten and her face set in dismay. ‘Anyway, no point in talking about it now. So, what are your plans today?’ She bustled past Tina, feeling the need for fresh air. ‘I’ll just pop down and see what Don wants for tea tonight.’

  ‘I suppose I’ll just have to drag myself out to work . . .’

  Vi pretended not to hear. They’d been down that track before too. She and Don had encouraged Christina to look for a job, part-time, casual, anything to give her an interest and get her out of the house. Money wasn’t a major problem, though Christina was understandably cautious with her spending. She had finally landed a job in a real estate office answering the phone for the agents, pinning up ads and updating flyers.

  Over dinner she regaled Don and Vi with examples of what and who were selling. Most places, according to Christina, were, ‘Outrageously overpriced . . . dumps! You should see how they pretty-up the photos. And the descriptions! It’s a joke. I wouldn’t pay that sort of money.’

  ‘It’s what you have to pay these days, Tina. The housing market has changed in Sydney. It’s not like rural Victoria,’ said Don.

  ‘Well, you might call our town a backwater, but I had a very nice cottage and every amenity was right on hand. I could walk everywhere.’ Tina didn’t drive, which was an irritant to Vi and Don, who had to juggle trips to include Tina. Fortunately they lived on the bus route to the real estate agency.

  ‘Tina, I’m not saying you lived in a backwater,’ said Don in a resigned voice, ignoring the eye signal from Vi, Don’t get into this. ‘Sydney is really the metropolitan capital of Australia. Everyone wants to be here. Look at all the young kids starting to move into the inner city.’

  ‘I wouldn’t live in those slums. It’s bad enough Jennifer spends time hanging around that university area.’

  Vi got up and cleared the plates. ‘Well, you’ll be in a good position to hear about a little flat or townhouse when Jennifer is ready to buy something of her own,’ said Vi.

  Christina reacted in surprise, then dismissed Vi’s remark. ‘That will be a fine day. She’s a long way from getting a proper job that will earn her enough money to buy even a car. All this research business and environmental studies nonsense. What good is that?’

  Don carried the teapot to the sink and nudged Vi. ‘Maybe she’ll marry some rich bloke.’

  Christina’s short laugh had the brittle tinkle Vi knew held no mirth. ‘Those kind of boys won’t look at a country mouse like Jennifer. Anyway, she’s not remotely thinking of any such thing. Heavens, Don, she’s still so immature.’

  Vi and Don exchanged a glance. Christina had met Blair but refused to acknowledge him if his name came up or if Jennifer mentioned they’d been somewhere together. She appeared to operate on the principle that if she ignored his existence he would disappear. Jennifer and Blair sometimes met Vi for lunch in town or in a suburb known for some speciality restaurant. Jennifer had the excuse that her mother was working so was unable to join them.

  After Christina and Blair’s initial meeting at a Sunday lunch at Vi and Don’s, where Christina virtually ignored Blair, Jennifer and Vi decided things would run more smoothly if they kept Christina out of the loop. Privately Vi thought it best so, in case Jennifer and Blair’s relationship floundered, Christina wouldn’t be able to say to Jennifer, I told you so, men can’t be trusted . . . and so forth. Though from what Vi had observed, she thought Jennifer and Blair were quite serious about each other, and she told Don.

  ‘Jeez, I hope not, luv. He’s a nice enough young fella, but Jen needs to get out in the world a bit. You know, live a little.’

  ‘I wish she could afford to go overseas when she graduates,’ sighed Vi. ‘The trouble is, Tina would want to go too.’

  ‘Ain’t that the truth,’ agreed Don. ‘I’d offer to throw a bit in the kitty if Jen did want a trip. But not if her mum tags along. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to get time off work,’ he added.

  ‘Don, Tina would simply chuck in the job if it meant travelling with Jenny.’

  ‘You’re right, luv . . . Do you want to come and see my two new peach faces?’

  Jennifer was the happiest she could remember. Her relationship with Blair had steadied and grown. They spent most weekends together in a comfortable domestic routine. She was glad her mother was no longer lonely and seemed stimulated by her job, even if the stimulus came from being critical of housing prices, agents’ tactics and the rest of the staff. Jennifer made frequent flying visits to see Christina at Vi and Don’s. To assuage her guilt at meeting Vi (sometimes Don came along too) and Blair for their epicurean lunches, she’d treat her mother to a lunch or a dinner.

  Christina spent most of the meal tut-tutting over the prices. ‘You shouldn’t spend this money on me. My goodness, how can they charge these prices for that amount of food?’

  But what was especially fulfilling to Jennifer was her own work. She loved her courses and was taking an extra course in ecology. Her part-time job with the National Parks had escalated. Her connection from her after-school job had proved useful, and now she was spending time in the field with several of the rangers. She travelled to areas fringing Sydney’s north and south and was captivated by the inland waterways, wetlands and bushland. Standing on the headland at West Head, Jennifer thought she’d never seen such a magnificent location in all her life. She gazed across at the Palm Beach peninsula with its blunted tip of Barrenjoey Headland; Lion Island faced the swell of the Pacific Ocean at the mouth of Pittwater and Broken Bay; and she had the sweep of Ku-ring-gai National Park behind her. Here there were animals, plants and Aboriginal rock carvings that had existed centuries before Captain Cook ventured past this coastline.

  Jennifer took deep breaths to steady herself. She had a sudden desire to fall forward, over the headland, and, as if in slow motion, fly. She could feel exactly the sensation of swooping, gliding, drifting on currents of air, soaring from a great height to skim across the surface of the water. There would be a feeling of being supported in the air as if underwater. She smiled to herself. H
ow joyful she felt when she was surrounded by the beauty of nature. From the silvery grey lichen on the log beside her, the smudges of colour on the smooth and pitted surface of the rock on which she stood, the old gums and twisted banksias with their knobbly trunks and gargoyle seed pods, to the slick of blue sea and sky divided by the finger of land, the silent caress of wind on her face. The stillness almost overwhelmed her.

  But when she closed her eyes she heard the calls of birds, the rustling of leaves, and in her mind she could see the busyness of ants and insects, gliding snakes, the quietness of sleeping night creatures curled and furled into the crevices of trees and roots and rocks. She knew there were yachts and boats and homes and shops across the stretch of water, but they were just temporary brushstrokes on God’s great canvas.

  She fervently hoped this place would never change and she was glad she was involved with dedicated, admirable people who worked to protect areas such as this.

  She enjoyed sharing her observations and thoughts about these issues with the rangers as it wasn’t a subject she could discuss with Blair. She knew he wasn’t thinking about what she’d do when she got her degree because he was concentrating on his own career.

  And Blair’s future was looking bright. He’d made a big impression in the year he’d been at the hotel as assistant to the manager. He’d been given more responsibility as they recognised he had a flair for controlling staff and keeping them onside and motivated. His youth was seen as an advantage and he had solid marketing and administrative skills plus experience in hands-on hotel work from the kitchen to the front desk. Everyone predicted he’d achieve success in whatever direction he chose to direct his energies.

  ‘Jenny . . . I’ve been thinking about your birthday.’

  ‘Why Blair? It’s not till next week.’

  ‘I was trying to make it a surprise but you’d better get time off over the weekend. I thought we’d go away.’

  ‘Really? That’d be nice. Where? How long?’