The Quilt (23 page)

Paul looked quickly at his watch.  It was definitely too late to telephone the vendor tonight.  He walked to the bench and made a cup of strong coffee.    He then reached over and opened up the computer and typed in the words Waiheke Island.

Chapter 20

“
Joanne”

A strong stench of ammonia permeated from the kitchen.  Joanne emerged clad in a powder blue dressing gown, her face flushed by another restless night’s sleep.

“What are you doing up at this hour? Not again!”

“Not again?”

“That damned Critter
, I’ve just stood in another puddle.  You really have to start cleaning up as soon as he has messed.”

Sandy grinned sheepishly
.

“Sorry
, I was just going to finish making lunch and then mop up.  He always gets excited when we are going out on the boat. I was about to come and wake you up.”

Joanne tried to suppress a groan.

“I’ll go and have a quick shower,” she glanced through the gap in the curtains. “The sun isn’t even up.”

“That’s the best time and there is no point in having a shower
, you will stink of bait by the time we get home.”

“
Perfect.”

The hot water ran down Joanne’s face, washing away the heaviness of sleep deprivation.  Every thread of her life seemed to have unravelled over the last few weeks. The biopsy loomed over them like an unspoken threat.  She felt unable to prevent the fear that was etched in Sandy’s face, and watched helplessly as it sent her into rages of frustration and periods of irrational darkness.     

It was o
nly in the solitude of her room that Joanne could allow her mind to wrestle with the insecurities and uncertainty that frayed at her nerve ends.  Sleep, when it eventually came, was always broken and fitful, plagued by barely remembered dreams and leaving her drained and on edge.

She studied her face in the mirror.   A hint of dark circles was already forming under her eyes.
Perhaps some time spent in the fresh air would lift their spirits and break the gloom that seemed to have penetrated the villa.

There was an impatient shout from Sandy
, followed by the sound of a cupboard door slamming.  Her mood swings created a window to the tension she was feeling and, as the appointment drew closer, the peaks and troughs became less predictable and more acute.

Joanne ran a hand through her damp hair
and savoured the last tranquil moment of solitude.   If she had a choice, she would return to the security of her bed and immerse herself in a book escaping reality through the story of a stranger’s life.

She glanced in the mirror again
. The dull pressure of a tension headache was forming behind her temples.  Another cupboard door slammed closed as Joanne opened the bathroom door releasing a cloud of steam.

Sandy stood in the kitchen her face
was contorted in rage. 

“
You are so bloody selfish!  I’ve done everything while you were indulging.  I have to work tonight and now it’s hardly worth going out.”

Joanne glanced down pointedly at her watch. 
It was seven thirty.

They travelled to the l
aunching ramp in silence.

A good humoured, elderly man approached Sandy as soon as she entered the boat club car park.  

“
I guess it’s my lucky day, Miss Sandy.”

Sandy giggled and flirted
outrageously with the old man.  Joanne looked on in amazement as the trailer was backed down the ramp, the boat unloaded and the car parked.  The gentleman returned with the keys and smiled with genuine affection.

“It is good
to see you have company today.”

H
e nodded towards Joanne.

“I always wo
rry when I see you going out into the channel alone.”

The outboard burst into life and they navigated out of the small rocky launching area.  The tense set had softened on Sandy’s face and Joanne spoke for the first time since they had left the villa.

“He’s right
, you should be more safety conscious.”

“There you go again
, always looking for the worst scenarios.  I’ve been coming out here by myself for week.  I’m going to take you around Waiheke Island and, perhaps later, we can pull into one of the small bays for lunch.”

It was a calm
, flat day on the water with only a light breeze to break through the humidity.  The sun sent dancing reflections off the top of the tiny ripples and enveloped their backs in a cloak of delicious warmth.

Joanne’s white knuckles slowly relaxed and the dull throbbing in her temples
subsided.  She had never really had the opportunity to do any kind of boating.  Her parents were not interested in it and had never had the time to explore outdoor activities, and fish was readily available either fresh or frozen at the supermarket. 

They
wound their way in and out of the numerous white sand bays that formed the outer shore of the Island.  Houses, small baches and boat sheds dotted the edges.  Yellow and orange kayaks sat idly on the beaches and boats were moored on private jetties and buoys.  

The landscape changed from the soft foliage of native bush to stee
p rocky cliffs dropping dramatically into the emerald coloured sea.  Velvet rolling pastures created a background for crescent-shaped beaches enveloping small tranquil inlets.   Rows of grapes and the orchards growing olive trees gave way to sheep roaming on hillsides or standing silhouetted against the sharp blueness of the sky.

At lunchtime t
hey tied Lucky Lady on to a jetty and sat eating sandwiches on a small shelly beach.  Before leaving, they walked a short distance to a tiny café that served good strong coffee and had shelves stocked high with local produce.  Joanne purchased local pinot gris, two bottles of organic virgin olive oil, salad greens and a polystyrene box and ice to keep it fresh.

The opposite side of the Island was more populated.  Small settlements clustered
along the edges of long, white, sand beaches and colourful housing clung to the hillsides that rose above.

The sun, the smell of salt and the warm gentle breeze soothed away the tension that broken sleep hadn’t.  There had been little opportunity to talk over the noise of the outboard and
, without the effort of holding a conversation, Joanne had been able to think logically about Sandy’s health issues, the breakdown of her own relationship, loss of her home, career and security.

Hours spent lying awake while her mind skimmed from one stressful part of her life and on
to the next had resolved nothing nor had it enabled Joanne to formulate any sort of plan.
 

The first priority h
ad to be Sandy.  Until the biopsy established if there actually was a malignant tumour she would be needed as support. That meant, at least in the short term, Joanne could not look to change her own situation by looking for employment or a house of her own.

Joanne wasn’t sure exactly how much money she had accumulated
but she assumed a bank statement would be sent when her account was transferred to Auckland.  She was sure there would be enough from the sale of her car and the savings she had conscientiously put aside during her term of employment in Nelson to provide security until she was in a position to look for a permanent income.

“Hey, are you awake?” 

Groggily
, Joanne dragged herself from the depths of thought.  She was vaguely aware of the lapping water on the side of the boat, the intense heat of the sun and the sudden absence of the throbbing from the outboard motor.

“I can’t believe I managed to drift off
.”

“It’s the sea air and sun.  I’ve caught a decent snapper for dinner so we might as well head in
.”

The sun had lost its bite as Joanne stood at the bench tossing salad greens and fresh tomatoes in olive oil and balsamic dressing.  A small glass of the pinot gris sat in a frosted glass next to her hand. 

Sandy had showered
, her hair was freshly washed and her makeup applied ready for work at the wine bar.

“Can you understand why I purchased the boat?”

Joanne took a sip of her wine and thought carefully before answering.

“To be honest
, I thought it was the most stupid thing that you have ever done. That was this morning.  This afternoon I understand.”

They lifted their glasses
.

“I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.  I am
not sure why I feel so irritable.”

“I think it is just
all the waiting.  We will get through it.”

Joanne cleaned up the dishes and finished her
second glass of wine. Sandy had left for work two hours earlier and, although the house was quiet and peaceful, she felt the nagging of an uncompleted task.     

Stephen picked up the telephone on the second ring.

“Joanne!  I am so glad to hear your voice.  I have been trying to call you to explain.”

She
immediately felt irritated.

“Do
n’t be glad and please don’t even attempt to explain.  I haven’t rung to discuss your excuses, Stephen. I have no interest in listening to you trying to justify yourself.  I have called to ask you to refrain from ringing my mother.” 

She hesitated to allow him time to comprehend her call was not
made with any intention of a reconciliation.

“
You were given her unlisted number months ago to use in the case of an emergency.  It is important to her for business reasons that this line is retained.”

Joanne waited for a response but the line was silent
. 

“If you continue to ring
you are leaving her no option but to go through the inconvenience of changing her number.”

“If you had returned my ca
ll’s the inconvenience to your mother would have been avoided, Joanne.  I needed to speak to you and, obviously, she has passed on this message or you wouldn’t have rung now.  We need to work this out.  I made a mistake.  One mistake, Joanne.”

“
Whether it was one mistake or more, is not relevant.  Stephen, you broke it and it can’t be put back together again.  I won’t settle for what you offered.  I want you to move on and I need you to accept you will move on without me.”

“So
, you are happy to throw everything away that we have?”

“
Stephen, when you think about it everything that we have, isn’t that much is it?  I have no intention of coming back, ever.  In fact, I wonder why I stayed for as long as I did.”

Again the line was silent.  Typical
, he really had no answers.  She put the phone down.

Joanne left a message on her father’s answerphone.  He returned her call a few minutes later, sounding unusually flustered.

“Joanne
, I am surprised it has taken you this long to call me.”

“Is everything alright
?  You sound agitated.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!
I assume your mother has told you about the position I am offering.  It is a wonderful opportunity.”

“I’m sorry
, Dad, but I’m calling to say I can’t consider employment at least for the next few weeks.”

“I really don’t understand what the hell you are saying
, Joanne.  Do you realize the fiasco in Nelson will leave you in a weak position as far as future applications go?  This is, possibly, the only opportunity you will have to secure another position with the stigma of a sudden and unexplained resignation.  It will cast doubt, not only on your reliability, but also on your professional integrity.”

“You don’t know anything about the circumstances surrounding my resignation
.”

“No circumstances justify leaving a position
of responsibility without notice unless the circumstances warrant legal proceedings.  Did they warrant proceedings, Joanne? And if they did, I assume you did not encourage anything inappropriate.”

Joanne willed herself to take a deep breath
.

“No
, I did not encourage anything inappropriate and I resent you implying that I did.  The circumstances did make it necessary to leave without notice but whether my grievance could be proved, or was worth pursuing, is questionable.  Now can we please just discuss what is relevant?  If there was any way I could commit to joining your firm I would.  But right now, there is something more important that I need to deal with before thinking about my own future.”

“Joanne
, at the moment you have no future.  You are unemployed, you have no prospects.  Do you understand that you are turning down a position that could quite conceivably open doors that you have only been able to dream about?  Nothing could be more important than that.”

“To me
, something is more important than that.”

“Then
I assume you are not fond of eating and living under a bridge is sufficient shelter for you?”