The Reef (4 page)

Jennifer sat on a warm wooden bench at the edge of the university quadrangle gazing at students strolling or sitting on the emerald lawn. Idly, she wondered who else had sat on this old seat contemplating the mellow stone archways and high windows glinting in the sunlight. Much as she loved her university classes and the freedom of being on her own, halfway through her first year at Sydney University she still felt she didn't belong here.

Her mother's belief that she had stepped beyond their boundaries had taken root in some deep place within her. It coloured how she approached everything in this new life. She never felt she wore the right clothes, or knew the same places and people and fads as other students. She felt she had to do her best and get good marks. That she had something to prove not only to herself, but also to her mother. There was a constant pang of guilt over her mother's living alone in an isolated Victorian country town, even though she knew friends and neighbours were popping by, inviting her mother out as much for Jennifer's sake as for Christina's.

Jennifer's own social life was uneventful. She sometimes joined a group of friends from uni who went to cafes and bars nearby. Every second Sunday she was invited to Uncle Don and Aunty Vi's for lunch and she found she enjoyed being with them. Sometimes they went out for an afternoon drive or to see a movie. She would stay the night in the downstairs guest bedroom, which was comfortable and spacious. A sliding door opened
onto a small patio and the neat back garden where Uncle Don bred birds.

The compact brick house was almost identical to its neighbour, and, while pleasant enough, it was to Jennifer's mind a suburban lifestyle that she wasn't interested in. If she couldn't have the open space of the country she'd rather have the vibrancy of inner city life. Especially the energy of the students and interesting characters who frequented the blocks around the university campus.

It was a train ride and a bit of a walk or a long bus trip from Vi and Don's house to her room at uni, so Jennifer chose to get up and leave early on a Monday morning rather than travel at night on public transport. Her aunt and uncle wanted her to think of the spare room as her own and leave some of her belongings there, but she was reluctant. She enjoyed having the family contact and knew her visits, where she talked about all she was doing, brought them great pleasure. Jennifer found, however, that she had to downplay these visits when she spoke to her mother. Christina's resentment, or was it plain jealousy, crackled down the phone line.

‘And what did you talk about? Must be nice for them to get all the little details you never have time to tell me. At least you're getting a good meal when you see them. I suppose Vi still does the big baked lunch. Goodness, I can't remember when I last had a slice of roast lamb.' And on it went.

Jennifer didn't have the heart to tell her that Vi only occasionally did a traditional meal. She was
experimenting with ethnic dishes and once a month they went to various restaurants scattered around Sydney – Greek, Vietnamese, Lebanese or Chinese cuisines. She knew her mother wouldn't approve of ‘foreign' food. But worse, in her mother's eyes, was the fact that Jennifer was gadding about enjoying herself with Vi and Don.

Jennifer's favourite place to eat near uni was a small cafe called ‘Crush' that specialised in innovative natural foods and juices. There were tables with umbrellas outside; inside, long bars with stools ringed the walls, and one large wooden table dominated the room. Everyone shared the space and it was a good way to meet people. A selection of newspapers was always on hand and a bulletin board was smothered in notices of events, trade or sale items, people looking for a ride out of town and almost anything else of interest to a university crowd.

Jennifer enjoyed sitting outside and lingering over a smoothie or her salad while she read notes or a book with the background chatter and laughter of other students. You were never hurried along and she liked the friendly young staff. She had thought of asking for a job there but was a bit intimidated by all the organic foods, many she hadn't seen before like wheat-grass juice, pomegranates, and a variety of Asian vegetables. Instead, she was working in the university library – which pleased her mother – but she was hoping to find another part-time job.

A salad with roast beetroot stuffed with
bocconcini and topped with roasted pine nuts and fresh coriander was put in front of her. She was surprised to see one of the chefs serving.

‘Is this one of your specialities?'

‘All my own work. Hope you like it.'

‘How come you're serving as well as cooking?'

‘One of the girls is running late, had to see her tutor. I said I'd cover for her.'

‘That's nice of you. Are you at uni, too?'

‘No. I've just finished my course in hospitality at TAFE. I'm doing this for experience and to save some money. I want to go to one of the big hotels overseas.'

He was medium height and build with pleasant features and unruly curly dark hair. Jennifer thought he looked like a nice person. ‘To work as a chef?'

‘Actually no. I'm more interested in hotel management. I've been doing a bit of everything. Oops, better go, the other guy in the kitchen will have the next order ready.'

He came back to her table several times to top up her water, take away her plate and persuade her to try the fruit flan. When she left he gave her a wave. ‘Enjoy the meal?'

‘I certainly did. And the service was great.'

Jennifer began to visit Crush more frequently and she and Blair – as she now knew the young chef's name to be – exchanged friendly banter and carefully dropped bits of information that gave each other clues about their families, future plans and the things they liked.

A few weeks later after they ran into each other at the Sunday farmers' market in the city, they strolled around the stalls as Blair bought fruit and vegetables. Jennifer had an armful of flowers, some homemade chutney and jam, and two ripe mangoes, a fruit she'd just discovered.

‘Are you buying for Crush or yourself?' she asked.

‘Today myself. I'm tired of eating at the restaurant or taking home leftovers. I thought I'd rustle up a decent lunch.' He glanced at her pretty face lightly touched with just the right amount of make-up, her pale gold hair that looked like she'd just washed it and let it dry. It fell around her face to her shoulders and, with her blue eyes and pale skin, the exotic and brightly coloured flowers in her arms contrasted with her translucent colouring. There was a faint sweet perfume around her from the flowers or her hair, he wasn't sure which, and he suddenly wanted to lean closer and breathe in the fragrance. He realised he was staring at her. ‘Look, would you like to come over and share lunch? I live in Glebe, not far. I do sort of feel we know each other.'

‘Me too.' She felt ridiculously pleased.

The lunch was delightful. She loved his little terrace house and the way he was so comfortable about pouring her a glass of wine as she perched on a stool and watched him casually throw together an informal meal, which they ate off big, brightly coloured square plates on his tiny patio. She felt very cosmopolitan and tried not to show
how impressed she was. She couldn't imagine any of the boys she knew back home, or any of her mother's friends, entertaining like this. She insisted on helping him clear up and then as the lazy, empty afternoon loomed, she was overcome with anxiety and made excuses about having to leave to see her aunt and uncle.

‘It's been really lovely. I'm sorry I can't reciprocate. I'm living on campus.' Then she had an idea. ‘How about a picnic one day? I'll do the food. When you have time, of course.' She had no idea where they'd go but she'd research that one.

‘I'll definitely make time for that. Here, I'll give you my phone number.' He reached for a pen and a slip of paper on the kitchen bench.

‘I'll probably see you at Crush anyway?' she asked.

‘I hope so. Can I drive you anywhere?'

‘No, I'm fine. I'll grab a taxi.' She picked up her shopping and hurried to the door in case he offered to phone for a cab. She had no intention of spending money on such a luxury. She'd walk. ‘Thanks so much, Blair . . . talk to you soon.'

‘Bye, Jennifer.' He was already planning to phone a couple of mates to go down to the pub to watch the footy.

Jennifer sat in the library and began to read the course notes her adviser had given her about directing her study focus. Teaching science was beginning to look less attractive to her and she
didn't believe she had a forceful enough personality to dominate a classroom. Research, investigation, winnowing out information and fitting pieces of a puzzle together – especially in the field of nature – fascinated her far more.

She read the summary of one of the courses: ‘Conservation biology examines the ecological theory behind genetic, species, and ecosystem conservation. A range of techniques for reserve selection, planning and management is examined, and supported by case studies of Australian protected areas.'

There were so many new – to her – subjects available for study. Big-picture topics right down to very specific and narrow subjects which were nonetheless important in the grand scheme of how humans could coexist more sustainably with nature and the planet.

Jennifer thought back to the routine she remembered of her childhood on the farm. The predictable rotation of seasons and weather, animals that were born, fattened, slaughtered or sold. Wallabies with young joeys in their pouch, the birds that returned to nest each year, the paddocks that flourished again after harvest. It was only later, when she and her mother were alone on the farm, that she listened to men complain about how everything was changing. That things were not how they used to be. Or should be. And she remembered how the men shook their heads and made dire predictions. And no one could tell her why.

Answers. That's what intrigued her. If she could
examine the phenomena of cause and effect in the environment, maybe solutions would become apparent.

Over a coffee at Crush with Blair she raised the subject of switching the focus of her degree from teaching to research, but he only shrugged.

‘Sorry, Jenny, out of my field. Can't you just get the teaching degree thingy and decide what to teach later?'

‘Actually, teaching is looking less attractive. I'd like to get into the research area. I think I should take more science subjects.'

‘Yeah, well. Hands-on is best, I reckon.' He grinned. ‘Look at me.' He waved a white napkin draped over his arm and pointed at the kitchen. ‘Waiter, front-of-house, chef, staff co-ordinator, computer jock. And on Monday morning I'm helping repaint the front. Never know what you're going to be asked to do. Jack of all trades. I'd get the broadest, easiest degree that gives you the most choices.'

Jennifer nodded, thinking how different their attitudes were. She recalled the second part of being a jack of all trades –
master of none.
Well, she was a bit more particular, or maybe had a more narrow focus. Though he was right in that having a flexible degree would give her more options. Well, she'd just get on with it. Take the courses that would help her in the research field. Her mother would be none the wiser. A degree, in her eyes, would be a degree. As long as Jennifer could get a job, her mother would be
satisfied, even if it wasn't as a primary school teacher.

Jennifer's routine changed little in the next few months. She and Blair saw each other on a regular basis, but it was still casual and friendly, and each had their own set of friends and activities. Blair liked to spend time with his mates – watching sport, going to the pub or ‘hanging out'. Jennifer felt there were girls involved some of these times, but she never asked and he seemed to prefer to keep her separate from his ‘guys' gigs'.

They hadn't slept together, because Blair sensed her reluctance and reticence, so both agreed to pull back when things looked like getting out of hand when they kissed. Privately Jennifer was disappointed. She realised he thought she was holding back, but she didn't want to be the one to make the move, especially as it was her first time. She had made up her mind that if she was going to lose her virginity it would be with Blair. But he muttered about ‘respecting her' and ‘not wanting to push her into something they might regret'.

Jennifer's life swung between her studies and Blair. Then one day Blair announced he had been offered two positions. One was as a junior manager at a top hotel in Lausanne, Switzerland. The other was in Sydney at a new international hotel, where he would be assistant general manager.

As he explained to Jennifer, ‘One gives me
international references, but, frankly, I wouldn't be learning all that much – I reckon I'd be doing a lot of the dirty work as a junior. There are dozens of hopeful European hotel staff doing the same job. But here in Sydney I think I could get ahead quicker.'