“What do you have in mind?” Rafe asked. He could always forget the women.
“I want to do some serious fishing on the outer wall of the. reef,” the man said.
“We’re at your service,” Rafe said.
“But the outer reef is forty nautical miles away. It’ll be somewhat dear.”
“I’m prepared to pay, “the man said.
“But I don’t like crowds.
You got many people scheduled tomorrow?”
Rafe raised his eyebrows at Wynn, trying to decide what to say. He didn’t want to lose this Chinese man’s money, but he didn’t want to pass up the Yanks’ money either.
Wynn shrugged.
Rafe turned back to the Chinese man.
“We just signed up a couple of ladies to do some diving,” he said.
“But I can always cancel them.”
“Two ladies won’t bother my fishing,” the man said.
“But leave it at that. No more passengers.”
“Fine by me,” Rafe said, trying to hide his excitement.
“Come on aboard and we’ll make the necessary arrangements. For a day’s charter to the outer reef, we’ll need some money up front.”
Nimbly, the Chinese man jumped on board.
“The name’s Harry Wong,” he said.
“I don’t have a lot of time at the moment.
How about two hundred dollars to reserve the boat?” He opened his wallet and took out the money.
Rafe took the bills.
“This will do just fine,” he said.
“Any particular time you’d like to depart?”
“What time did you tell those women?” the man asked.
“I told them eight o’clock,” Rafe said.
“But that can change.”
“Eight is fine,” the man said.
“But I might want to sleep on the way out to the outer reef. Do you have a cabin I could use?” “Absolutely,” Rafe said.
“You can use the main cabin.”
The Chinese man smiled.
“See you at eight,” he said. He leaped from the boat to the pier, then walked briskly away.
Willy Tong was pleased. He knew Ned Kelly would be too.
The only weak part of the whole plan had been the problem of getting the women to the outer reef. Now that seemed assured.
He entered The Crab, a pub along the waterfront, and ordered an amber. He hadn’t had a chance to finish his beer when Ned showed up.
“How’d it go, mate?” Ned asked as he hopped onto a barstool.
“Smooth as silk,” Willy said. He told Ned the details.
“Perfect!” Ned said.
“I didn’t have any trouble either. I rented one of those big powerboats that have enough engine to drive a supertanker. Come on, finish your beer. We got to go buy bait.
A lot of bait.”
The Hamilton Island Resort had so many ethnic restaurants to choose from, Marissa and Wendy had trouble making up their minds. They eventually settled on Polynesian, thinking it was the closest thing to local. To get into the mood they had purchased bright floral-print sarongs in the hotel’s gift shop.
Having concluded the arrangements for the following day’s diving, Marissa and Wendy had spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the pool, soaking up the warm tropical sun.
Although it hadn’t been crowded, there had been enough sunbathers poolside to make people-watching interesting. They’d even struck up a conversation with several single men who were intrigued to discover the women hailed from Boston.
Marissa was amazed at the number of Australians who had visited the States. Many had made it to Boston. Australia seemed to be a land of travelers. The six weeks’ holiday they got every year had to be a boon to the adventurous.
“Let’s order some champagne to celebrate being here,” Wendy suggested.
“I’m so excited about tomorrow, I can’t stand it.”
The food was “interesting,” as Wendy had put it, but pork wasn’t Marissa’s favorite. And eating off large tropical leaves didn’t strike her as appetizing.
While they were waiting for dessert, Marissa looked at Wendy.
“Have you been thinking much about Gustave?” she asked.
“Of course,” Wendy said.
“Be hard not to, even though I’m trying. Have you been thinking about Robert?”
Marissa admitted that she had.
“It started on the plane,” she said.
“Do you think I ought to call? I may have overreacted about Donna.”
“Go ahead and give him a call,” Wendy said.
“If it’s on your mind, I think you should do it. Maybe I should call Gustave.”
The dessert arrived. It was called Coconut Extravaganza. They both tried it. Wendy said she thought it was so-so. She put down her spoon.
“I don’t think it’s worth the calories.”
Marissa leaned forward.
“Wendy,” she said with a lowered voice.
“There is an Asian man behind you who’s been watching us.
Wendy responded by twisting in her seat.
“Where?” she asked.
Marissa grabbed her arm.
“Don’t look,” she said.
Wendy faced her companion.
“What do you mean, don’t look?
How am I supposed to see who you mean?”
“Be subtle!” Marissa whispered.
“He’s three tables behind you, he’s with a dark-haired man whose face I can’t see. Uh oh!”
“What’s the matter?” Wendy asked.
“The guy with the dark hair is looking this way now,” Marissa said.
Wendy couldn’t contain herself any longer. She twisted around again. Turning back to Marissa, she said, “Well, so what? They like our new sarongs.”
“There’s something about the Asian man that makes me feel uncomfortable,” Marissa said.
“It’s almost a visceral reaction.”
“Do you recognize him?” Wendy asked.
“No,” Marissa admitted.
“Maybe he reminds you of those creeps at the Women’s Clinic,” Wendy suggested.
“That’s a thought,” Marissa agreed.
“Maybe he’s from the People’s Republic,” Wendy said.
“Everybody that I know who’s gone to China has told me that they stare to beat the band.”
“He’s driving me crazy,” Marissa said, forcing herself to look away.
“If you’re finished, let’s get out of here.”
“I’m done,” Wendy said, tossing her napkin over her coconut extravaganza, Emerging from the dining room into the outdoors, Marissa looked up in awe. She had never witnessed such stars as she did in the velvety purple of the Australian night. Gazing at their intensity, she felt instantly better. She wondered why she was so sensitive about that Asian. After all, he’d been far across the room from them.
Back in the hotel room, Marissa sat down on the edge of her bed and figured out what time it was in the States.
“It’s seven fifteen in the morning in Boston,” she said.
“Let’s call.”
“You call first,” Wendy said. She stretched out on the bed.
With trembling fingers, Marissa dialed her home. As the distant phone rang, she tried to think of what she would say. By the fourth ring, she knew Robert wasn’t home. Just to be certain, she let it ring ten times before hanging up. She turned to Wendy.
“The bastard’s not home,” Marissa said.
“And he never leaves for the office before eight.”
“Maybe he’s on a business trip,” Wendy said.
“Fat chance,” Marissa said.
“He’s probably with Donna.”
“Now don’t jump to conclusions,” Wendy warned.
“There are probably plenty of explanations. Let’s see what happens to me.”
She sat up and dialed her number.
Marissa watched as Wendy waited. Finally Wendy dropped the receiver back into its cradle.
“Gustave’s not home either,” she said.
“Maybe they’re having breakfast together.” She tried to snidle.
Gustave is a surgeon,” Marissa said.
“What time does he usually leave for work?”
“About seven-thirty,” Wendy said.
“Unless he has surgery. It’s true he’s been doing a lot of surgery lately.”
“Well, there you go,” Marissa said.
“I suppose,” Wendy said. She didn’t sound convinced.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Marissa said. She stood up and stretched out a hand for her friend. Together they wandered out onto the beach. For a while neither of them said a word.
“I have a bad feeling about my marriage,” Marissa said at last.
“Lately Robert and I seem to see everything differently. It isn’t just the mess with Donna.”
Wendy nodded.
“I have to say this infertility business has put an enormous strain on Gustave and me.”
Marissa sighed.
“And to think of the promise our relationship started with.”
The women stopped. Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness.
Ahead they saw the silhouette of a couple nestled in an embrace.
“Makes me feel nostalgic,” Wendy said.
“And sad.”
“Me too,” Marissa agreed.
“Maybe we’d better head in another direction.”
They wandered back to the resort. There they happened to pass by a couple with a crying toddler in a stroller. Both the man and the woman were happily window-shopping, ignoring the wailing child.
“Can you believe those people, bringing such a small child out to an island like this?” Wendy said.
“Poor thing is probably sunburned.”
“I think it’s awful for them to keep the child up this late,” Marissa said with equal vehemence.
“It’s obvious the child is exhausted.”
Marissa caught Wendy’s eye. They both smiled at each other, then shook their heads.
“Envy is a terrible thing,” Wendy said.
“At least we recognize it for what it is,” Marissa said.
Wendy had Marissa up at the crack of dawn for a big English breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast on their lanai. As they ate, a huge tropical sun rose into a cloudless sky. They got to the boat just before eight and the captain already had both diesels idling. After first tossing on board their shoulder bags with their bathing suits and other paraphernalia, Wendy and Marissa climbed over the gunwale.
“G’day!” Rafe said.
“Ready for adventure?”
“You bet,” Wendy said.
“You ladies mind lending a hand here?” Rafe asked.
“Not at all,” Wendy said.
“Then cast off those stern lines when I give a yell,” Rafe said.
He then went into the cabin. Wynn was already out on the bow making preparations. The sun glistened off his shirtless back.
Marissa felt the boat tremble as the engines were revved up.
Wynn began to release the bowlines.
“Okay, ladies,” Rafe yelled.
“Cast off.”
Wendy took the starboard line, Marissa the port. They slipped them from their cleats and tossed them onto the dock. With a shudder, the boat moved out of the slip.
Until they got out of the marina, Marissa and Wendy stayed in the stern, watching the activity in the bustling port. Once the boat reached open water and the captain increased their speed, they went forward to the cabin.
Wynn was still on the bow deck, lounging agaiast one of the two dinghies, smoking a cigarette. Marissa noticed he was sporting a different hat, one just as woebegone as the day before, but with a fishnet around the hatband for a decorative touch.
Marissa spotted something on deck that had not been there the day before: a cage made of heavy steel bars. At its top it was attached by a cable to one of the forward davits.
“What’s the cage for?” Marissa yelled over the sound of the engines. She pointed through the windshield.
“That there is a shark cage,” Rafe said, eyeing an upcoming buoy.
“What the hell is that for?” Marissa asked. She turned to Wendy, who shrugged.
“We’re not going someplace where there are sharks, are we?” Wendy asked Rafe.
