Antarctic Affair (7 page)

She hauled out her super powered
hairdryer and plugged it in. Scratching around in her mammoth case she found her
hair mousse and styling brush. She flicked the switch and screamed as the rear
end of the hairdryer hissed and fizzled and then with a loud, smoky pop, died.
Great, she fumed. No heating. No hot water and now no hair dryer. What else
could possibly go wrong?

When she finally made it to the dining
room for breakfast about half an hour later, Georgina was
not
in a good mood. She sat down next to Amy, who had been about to
leave and in ecstasy, wrapped her frozen hands around a cup of steaming coffee.
Her pleasure was short lived, as no sooner had she taken a sip, Taj and Don
arrived looking relaxed and in good spirits.

“Electrical problems?” asked Taj politely,
eyeing her wet hair.

She glared at him in no mood for his dry
humour and turned her attention to Amy. “What’s good on the breakfast buffet?”
she asked brightly.

Amy, who despite her petite frame, had a
healthy appetite. “Everything, go and have a look. The cheese croissants are
particularly tasty.”

Georgina pointedly ignored Taj while she
ate her breakfast, chatting to Amy who said she’d try and arrange another
hairdryer from somewhere.
 
Today was a
free day as the
Explorer
powered its
way south to Antarctic waters. The passengers were grateful for the opportunity
to explore the ship and get to know each other. Most were scientists of
differing disciplines, and consequently had much in common. It was only Taj and
herself who weren’t on the
Explorer
for academic reasons.

After her second cup of coffee, and
feeling much more human, she decided she really had to pin Taj Andrews down for
an initial interview. It was already day two of the trip and she still knew
nothing about him, apart from the fact he hated interviews and could be
extremely difficult. Neither of which was particularly useful. Amy left to
prepare her make-shift lab for some samples they would collect on the various
excursions, so Georgina decided it was now or never. She approached the table
where Don, Taj and a few others were laughing and joking. She was surprised to
see him throw back his head with laughter, for she’d never seen him this
relaxed before. At the airport he’d been decidedly uptight and when she’d met
him on the plane he’d come across as arrogant and annoyingly superior. He met
her eyes and still smiling asked if she needed anything. She was still so
thrown by how easy-going he looked, that all the aggression drained out of her
body. Those gleaming eyes held her captivated. She cleared her throat and
pushed her glasses up onto her nose. “Um, can we get together this morning to
talk about a few things?” she asked, suddenly feeling like a high school
student talking to her teacher. She held her breath, half expecting him to
refuse, or make some other excuse.

“Sure,” he said congenially, “I’ll meet
you in the lounge after breakfast.” At her look of disbelief, he grinned and
bit into a slice of toast.

She glanced at Don who gave her a
conspiratorial wink. Thank you, Mr. Expedition Leader, she thought to herself
as she smiled at him gratefully. Don was so lovely, it was a pity she wasn’t
interviewing him.

The lounge was deserted since it was
only eleven o’clock in the morning. Georgina chose a table in the corner so
they could sit at right angles, which she felt was far less formal than sitting
opposite each other. She had her pencil and notepad ready.

“Am I late?”

She turned to see a smiling Taj enter
the lounge. His casual sweatshirt and jeans was so different to the bad-boy
biker style of the previous day that she it was hard to believe he was the same
person.

He sat down and looked at her
expectantly.

Georgina stared at him in amazement. “I
can’t believe you actually came. I was beginning to think I’d have to suck this
article out of my thumb.”

He grimaced, “I know, sorry about that.
I haven’t been making your job very easy for you, have I?”

Would wonders never cease? “You could
say that.”

“I’ve never been good at this type of
thing,” he muttered, looking contrite.

“Is that why you never give interviews?”
asked Georgina.

He nodded curtly. “I didn’t get into
this for the fame. I prefer to remain anonymous and let the photographs speak
for themselves.”

She studied him speculatively. “When the
art speaks loud enough, ultimately people start asking about the artist. It’s
hard to separate the two.”

He rolled his eyes, “So I’ve discovered.”
He looked at her in a way that made her wonder if she had croissant crumbs on
her face.

“That’s very insightful,” remarked Taj.

She shrugged. “I interview a lot of
artists. Temperamental bunch,” she commented dryly.

He grinned. “So it would seem. Look, I’ve
been thinking. Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement with regards to
this whole interview thing.”

She gave him a sceptical look. “I’m
listening.” Here come the excuses, she thought.

Taj leaned back in his seat and his legs,
because they were so long, nudged her feet under the table. She immediately rammed
hers against the back of the seat.
 

He looked amused.

“What is it you were thinking?” asked
Georgina curtly, willing herself not to flush.

“You mentioned you wanted to come ashore
with us on the excursions, well, I was thinking that might not be such a bad
idea.”

“Really?” Georgina couldn’t believe her
ears.

He nodded, “Yeah. You know how I feel
about schedules and all that, well I’ll make a deal with you.”

Her eyes narrowed, “What kind of deal?”

He chuckled at her expression. “You’re
not very trusting, are you?” When she didn’t reply, merely raised an eyebrow he
continued, “Okay, here it is. You may ask me anything you like and I promise to
answer to the best of my ability,” he paused for effect, “as long as it’s during
an excursion and not in a formal interview environment. When we’re back on the
ship, the questions stop.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “And
you’re happy to do that?”

His unwavering blue-green eyes held
hers. “I don’t break my promises.”

She swept an unruly strand of hair,
thanks to her worthless hairdryer, out of her face, “So let me get this
straight. I can accompany you on all your photo shoots and ask as many
questions as I like and you’ll cooperate?”

He nodded.

Georgina couldn’t help a delighted
chuckle.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask, what
brought on this change of sentiment? Yesterday you didn’t want me anywhere near
you.”

“I need you.”

At her incredulous look he clarified, “I
need this cover article to raise my profile in Europe. Next year we’re thinking
of doing a project in Scandinavia and I need financing. It’s that simple. I
have to cooperate with you as much as I don’t want to. And I’m sure you have
better things to do than be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with the
likes of me.”

He did have a point there.

“I still can’t believe it, but great.
It’s a deal then,” she said happily. They shook hands.
 

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” offered
Taj.

“Sure.” She put away her notepad. Might
as well make it look official. Chatting, in her opinion, was as good as an
interview anyway. Perhaps he just didn’t like formal arrangements. Well, that
was fine with her. It looked like she’d found a way to work around him.

Taj
returned with two steaming polystyrene cups.

“Thanks. It must be nice to have this,”
she gestured around them with her hand, “as your office?”

He nodded, taking a sip. “You can’t beat
it.”

“Do you ever get homesick?” She wasn’t
sure why she asked that except for she remembered him saying he was hardly ever
home.

“Never,” he answered without hesitation.

“Not ever? You mean you never long for a
familiar view or to cook in your own kitchen, or sleep in your own bed?”

He shook his head. “No. I love waking up
to a different view every morning, particularly if it’s like this,” he nodded
towards the window. “I don’t often cook and I’ve never been the type to sleep
late. I’m always up with the first light, it’s the best from an artistic
perspective, but even when I’m not working, I’m still up before anyone else.
Always been that way, even as a kid.”

“Lucky for you,” she smiled.

He grinned, “It used to annoy the hell
out of my mother. She was not an early riser.”

“Your mother’s a sculptor, right?” asked
Georgina trying to remember what she’d read about him.

“Yeah, you read that in your file?”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t miss the guarded
look so she tried to sound ultra casual.

“I was surprised to read about your
father though. If I had to guess what your parents did I’d never say Supreme
Court attorney.”

She noticed the way his eyes narrowed
when she mentioned his dad.

“Why not?” asked Taj softly, studying
her with his unnerving aquamarine gaze.

“Well, for one thing you’re such a free
spirit. I don’t think one can say the same for a Supreme Court attorney. Am I
right?”

He nodded. “More than you know.”

“Was it tough growing up with a father
like that?” she knew immediately that she’d overstepped the boundary. Taj
looked cagey, his gaze shifting as if he was about to bolt.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer
that,” she said quickly. “It’s not important. I was just trying to get a
picture of what motivates someone to do what you do.”

“Are you always so direct?” he asked
suddenly.

Georgina smiled, “I suppose so. Maybe
that’s why I became a journalist, because I like getting to the truth.”

“I can understand that. It’s why I
became a photographer. I like to strip away the layers and show things as they
really are. Naked. Vulnerable. Exposed.” He looked at her intently. “Nothing is
more beautiful than when it is in its natural state. That goes for people too.”

Was that supposed to mean something, she
wondered? She fingered the ring that Charles had given her. It was so heavy the
diamond kept swinging round to the inside and bruising her hand. She made a
mental note to have it altered slightly when she got back to London.

She concentrated on
Taj
.

“Is that why you get involved in such
extreme projects? To strip away the layers?”

“Perhaps. Nature has a strange way of
showing us how quickly order can be reduced to chaos. One minute you’re sitting
on your veranda enjoying a margarita and the next a tidal wave is washing your
hotel away. I try to capture those moments of insanity, when nature really
shows us whose boss.”

Georgina stared at him. “You really do
have a way with words,” she said softly.

He shrugged, “Photo-journalism major.”

“Do you write a lot for National
Geographic?” she asked.

“Only when I have to. I’d much rather
take photos. I don’t like sitting behind a computer.”