Embracing Change (10 page)

The atmosphere relaxed as Joel smiled, regaining his normal easy-going attitude. “Sweet as. I’ve brought a couple of maps to show you the routes and places we’ll be passing through. I’ll get them from the car.” He pushed himself out of the chair.

Sarah felt a wiggle of excitement inside her; a more positive feeling than she’d experienced in months.

Joel arrived back with a handful of maps. “You look far away.”

“I was just thinking about stuff. The thought of doing something different feels really good.”

Joel smoothed out a map of the South Island. “Here’s Christchurch, and this is State Highway 1 that we’ll follow, up here.” He traced the road with his finger. “See how it runs slightly inland until just before Kaikoura? The scenery beyond there is amazing.” He sat back, excitement in his voice. “We’ll stop and look at the seal colonies—and there’re two tunnels cut straight through the rock. And the salt pans—they’re very unusual; and there’s dozens of vineyards, and of course, thousands of sheep.”

His enthusiasm was contagious and Sarah pointed out the areas she’d been working on. “Kaikoura as you know, and Amberley and Cheviot, as well as some of the coastal reserves. Most of the places are small but they still attract droves of tourists. It’ll be great to actually see them.”

An hour later, Joel picked up the maps. “I’ve got an early morning job tomorrow so I’d better get going.”

Sarah walked him to the door. “Thanks for the invitation, Joel. I really appreciate it.”

Her own tiredness had dissipated but she retired to her room anyway. Something had been nagging at her all week and Joel’s visit had been the final push she needed. Locking the door, she sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand under the light of the bedside lamp. Her engagement ring was beautiful; a simple band with a solitaire diamond in a swirl of gold. It sparkled as she moved her fingers, and sent tiny prisms of light dancing across the wall. Slowly, carefully she eased it off, feeling loss with every twist, every movement, a thousand memories stirring within.

“I love you, Sarah. I want to spend my life with you. Please say you’ll marry me?” Luke had proposed on a Saturday afternoon while walking through Johannesburg Botanical Gardens. It was a perfect day, warm with a light breeze that ruffled the lake, sending lacy ripples across its surface.

Oblivious of passers-by, Sarah melted into his arms. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Definitely yes!” He slipped the ring onto her finger and the moment was frozen in time forever; preserved in Sarah’s memories like a fiery diamond preserved in the dark ground. It was as though she could still hear children laughing in the distance; still see the dragon fly skipping the surface of the lake, its body a quivering flash of violet; still feel the warmth of Luke’s skin.

“I’m so sorry, Luke,” she whispered now as she slipped the ring into its box, a circle of golden fire against rich red velvet. “I really wish that things had turned out differently, that you were here with me. I’m going on a trip next week with Joel. I think you’d have liked him. The thing is, it will just be the two of us and it’s not right if I’m wearing an engagement ring; if I give the impression that we’re a couple.” Slowly, carefully, she closed the lid, her finger empty, heart bereft as tears slid down her cheeks.

She slept that night with the velvet box cradled against her chest.

Chapter Thirteen

I can’t wait to see the Marlborough Sounds. Photographs show them as emerald hills swelling from a sapphire sea, sprinkled with sunny diamonds. Perhaps that’s significant, somehow, for me.

From the journal of Sarah Johnson

Saturday 3rd May

Sarah pulled back the lounge curtain and gazed across the garden, washed of colour by the milky grey light of the street lamp. Outside, frost stiffened grass into spikes and inside, condensation trickled down the window. It was nearly 6 a.m. and she thought she heard Joel. Sure enough, he pulled his lanky frame from the car and headed up the driveway, his breath soft puffs of mist that hung for a second before dissolving into icy air. Grabbing her bags, she went to open the front door.

His face broke into a grin. “Good morning, Lady Sarah. You chariot awaits.”

“Why thank you, Sir Joel.” A giggle escaped as he picked up her case and pretended to stagger.

“Are you sure you’ve only packed for one night?”

The streets were quiet and soon they were out of Christchurch, the road winding like a grey velvet ribbon towards silhouetted mountains and the first flush of dawn. They were both quiet and Sarah wondered what Joel was thinking about.

“We’ll stop in Amberley to pick up some coffee,” he said eventually. “It’s just a few minutes from here.”

Shortly afterwards, he pulled into a service station. The air was greasy with fumes and bacon but the coffee smelt good, and came with a swirl of cream and a sprinkling of chocolate.

“Would you like a snack? I haven’t had breakfast yet, so I’m going to get something …”

Sarah ran her eyes across the display of food. “Those date and bran muffins look good.”

Joel selected a lamb and mint pie, and paid for their purchases.

“Are we going to eat here or in the car?” Sarah asked, hoping for the car. The tables in the dining area were scattered with crumbs and dirty plates.

Joel followed her eyes. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on.”

He reversed the car from the parking bay and turned back in the direction they had come. “We’re going to take a short detour, but you’ll love it.”

Ghostly trees closed in on the road and the car shuddered as it hit a section of rippled tarmac. A few minutes later he pulled into a sandy parking area. “This is it.”

“The beach?”

“Yep. Grab your breakfast.”

Sarah followed him out of the car into air salty and fresh with spray. The sea was hidden behind a bank of sand dunes and scrub and she scrambled over them, trying not to spill her coffee while watching out for knobby roots and grabbing branches. The air was frigid and her breath came in short bursts of steam.

“Almost there,” Joel encouraged.

Sarah stopped as she caught her first glimpse of the ocean. Cold smooth sand lay before her and half moons of foam and aqua reflected clouds tinged with apricot rims. She was silent for a long while, absorbing the incredible beauty.

Joel touched her elbow. “Your coffee’s going cold. Come and sit on the rocks with me.”

She followed him across the sand, noticing how their footprints disturbed the perfection, left a trace of who they were. The rocks were damp and icy and Joel spread out a plastic mat for her to sit on. “Awesome isn’t it?”

Sarah nodded, swallowing mouthfuls of lukewarm coffee and eating as the stain of light changed from peach to red to golden. Each shade rippled across the sea, and reflections turned it into a liquid masterpiece. For the first time in months, Sarah wished she had her paints and a blank canvas with her. That she could come down here morning after morning and blend gold and amber, honey and lemon, and capture a glimpse of this winter kaleidoscope of beauty.

Conversation blossomed as they returned to the car and started on the journey north. Joel pointed out landmarks and gave the background of each little town they passed through, and Sarah shared what she had learned through her job, and time slipped by.

They’d been on the road for another hour when Sarah saw her: a portly woman on the side of the road, kneeling by a simple white cross. Her arm supported a mass of winter blossoms in pearl, lilac and gold, and a glass jar sat at the foot of the cross. She looked up and for a second her eyes locked with Sarah’s, a brief interchange, the touching of fragments of life.

“Did you see that?” she asked, turning her head to Joel. “The cross, I mean. And the woman with the flowers. We do that in South Africa too. I wonder what happened back there?”

“Did you leave a cross for Luke?” Joel asked carefully.

Sarah stared out the window. “No. I believe his friends did, but I never went back there. Some people said I should, but I couldn’t do it. Not then anyway. I might now if I had a chance.”

Joel looked across at her, a silent invitation to continue but she decided not to. Not yet, not now.

They lapsed back into silence until the road left green hills and fluffy sheep to overlook the Pacific Ocean. The sky had cleared and although the air was chilled, the sun was warm through the filter of the windshield.

“Kaikoura is just ahead,” Joel told her. “It’s about halfway between Christchurch and Picton. We’ll stop at one of the seal colonies for a quick look.”

A few minutes later they were picking their way across flat slabs of grey rock, creased and crinkled by the perpetual motion of waves and wind. Seagulls strutted before them, pecking and searching rock pools for morsels to dine on.

“There’s one!” cried Sarah, pointing to a shiny seal sliding from a rock into the surf.

“Look carefully and you’ll see plenty over there.” Joel pointed to some rugged boulders to their right.

Sarah adjusted her gaze and sure enough, a dozen or so seals came into focus, sleek and fat, lolling across the rocks, some dragging themselves along by their flippers. Joel caught her hand. “Let’s go a little closer.” He helped her over a swiftly flowing rivulet that sucked and sloshed as the waves crashed and receded against the rocks. Sarah held on firmly, relishing the contact; the firm touch of a man.

It was noon when they drove into Picton, and her mind was full of the journey; the surging ocean, the salt pans stretched red and grey against green hills, and vineyards in soldier rows with shields of white netting. Picton was beautiful too; a little town nestled between glossy hills. Joel drove slowly, allowing Sarah time to take in the homes clustered in hollows, and the harbour which extended as part of the valley.

“This is where my work starts,” he said. “I’ll be photographing each stage of the process, and taking notes as well. But the first thing we need to do is check in our bags.” He pulled the luggage out of the car and led the way into the terminal, where he confirmed their bookings. Sarah had never seen him in his professional capacity, and admired his easy manner with staff as he requested permission to photograph them and jotted details down in a large notebook.

“Next thing is to load the car.” He waved a piece of paper. “Follow me.” He turned the Nissan round and drove towards the water’s edge, joining the queue by the open mouth of the ferry.

“I can’t believe how big it is—almost like a small ship!”

“Wait till you see inside. It’s very comfortable.”

He followed the directions of ferry staff and drove up the metal ramp into the depths of the vessel. A man in a reflective vest directed him to a parking bay, where the car was secured into position. “Will you stand by the driver’s door, Sarah? Pretend you’ve just driven into the ferry.”

“But my hair’s a mess!”

He laughed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll delete any pictures you don’t approve of.”

“I’ll make sure of that.” She pulled her fingers through her hair and leaned against the car. Joel snapped several pictures before putting the camera away.

“That’ll do for now. Let’s head upstairs.”

Sarah followed him as he led the way to a metal stairway. Light seeped through portholes as they passed one level after another. “I’ll take you up to the entertainment decks,” he said. “I don’t know if you want to relax by yourself, or follow me round? I’ll try and do as much as I can before we sail—then we can enjoy the journey.”

“You go ahead. I’ll wander round and take some pictures myself.”

Sarah had never been on a large ferry and found it interesting looking at the rows of padded seats, the movie screens and fully equipped restaurants. She was still busy when Joel came looking for her.

“The Ferry’s due to sail in five minutes,” he said, as the floor beneath them began to throb. “The engines are powering up. Let’s go up on the top deck and watch.”

They got there just in time to see the cables being winched in and the ferry moving away from the dock. Joel clicked dozens of shots, and Sarah almost as many.

“It’s my turn to photograph you now.” She laughed as she snapped him talking to the crew, and kneeling to get a picture of the winch.

At last, he turned to Sarah. “That’s it for now. Let’s find a sheltered spot and sit for a while; then we’ll go in for a late lunch.” He patted his pocket. “I’ve got vouchers as part of the deal.”

The sun was shining and turned the water deep navy as they left Picton behind. “This is the route we’ll be following …” Joel pulled out a map. “We pass through Queen Charlotte Sound, Tory Channel and the Marlborough Sounds before moving into open seas. The distance to Wellington is only ninety-two kilometres but it takes three hours.”

Sarah pulled her jacket closer.

“Are you cold?”

“A little, but I don’t want to miss the views.”

Joel took his camera out again and started photographing the scenery.

“I’ve never seen anything like this!” Sarah shouted over the wind and engine noise. “Vivid green hills and dark seas—and look at those houses on the shoreline. Imagine living in a place like that.”