The Stranding (18 page)

‘More like you’ll be good for him.’

‘I’d like you to meet him. Properly,’ she said. ‘He’s nice, Jordi.’

‘Nice!’ He spat into the fire again. ‘Try again. What’s he really like? And I don’t mean in bed.’

She thought a moment, stirring her tea with a tarnished spoon.

‘He’s cautious,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t want to give anything away.’

‘Reckon he’s hiding something?’

‘He must have some reason for being here.’

‘Can’t crack it?’

‘He’s seamless as an egg. He doesn’t want to talk.’

Jordi poked the fire with a stick and threw another log on.

‘What’s gonna keep him here then?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’ll leave when he gets over whatever’s eating at him. They all do.’

‘You think I’m wasting my time.’

He shrugged and poured himself more tea. ‘He needs an anchor,’ he said. ‘Something to hold him down.’

‘What? Like a relationship?’

‘Nah. That’s not enough. He needs something more routine and less threatening. He needs a job.’

‘Why would a job do it?’

‘It’s called investment. Once you get to know people, it’s harder to leave. When a relationship gets sticky, you can just walk out the door. Once you’ve got other friends, it’s harder to go.’

‘That’s cynical.’ Callista tipped the dregs of her tea out on the ground.

Jordi sniffed. ‘Much as I love you, sis, I can tell you this. He ain’t gonna stay just for you.’

‘Well, thanks.’

‘You’re complex and emotionally untidy. He needs a broader focus than you.’

She struggled not to be offended. Sometimes Jordi could be so frank it hurt.

‘So how do you know all this?’ she asked. ‘Not from life experience.’

He stared at her, face hollow and thin in the firelight. ‘I watch people,’ he said.

He poured the remnants of tea inside the billy onto the fire and doused the flames.

‘So, can we do dinner?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Nah, if I have to meet him, we’ll go fishing.’

Jordi took them to a rock platform near the mouth of the Merrigan River. Standing up on the cliffs above the foaming sea, Lex looked down with dismay at the tiny eroded access track that Jordi pointed to. It slid down a steep gully between coarse prickly bushes, and then they had to climb down a sandstone crack to reach the platform. This wasn’t quite the peaceful fishing expedition Lex had had in mind.

On the rocks, he looked back up and tried to slow the excited batting of his heart. It had felt risky coming down, and if Jordi hadn’t been with them there was no way Lex would have done it. Too scary, too dangerous. He tried to concentrate while Jordi showed him how to set up the rod and bait the hook. They were fishing for salmon today, using pilchards for bait. Lex wasn’t sure whether the strong odour he could smell was coming from the bait bag or from Jordi’s hair. But the guy sure knew what he was doing. While Lex shuffled tentatively around the rock shelf in his boots, Jordi bounded here and there in bare feet. He must have leather for soles.

Anxiously, Lex followed Jordi out to the edge of the rock shelf and looked down into the heaving sea. Waves smashed and poured over the rocks, and it all felt a bit too close. But Jordi was showing him how to uncock the reel and set himself up for casting. As he whizzed the line out, Jordi made it look like an art form. He indicated to Lex where to stand and went to fetch his own line.

Lex held the rod, feeling like an amateur. He wouldn’t have the faintest idea what to do if a fish bit, and wasn’t even sure he’d know it was nibbling. The tug and pull of the surf was confusing. And he’d look like a complete idiot if he stood here for half an hour and then pulled the line in with no bait left on it.

Jordi rock-hopped past with a rod in one hand, his fishing basket in the other, and a fag in his mouth. He nodded at Lex and perched himself on another rock further out, even closer to the surf. Lex watched the surf spray sprinkle him as he set up his rod. Jordi looked so at ease, squatting down on the rocks, tying on the hook. And Callista, sitting further behind, nestled on a pile of rocks, looked comfortable too, in some sort of reverie, gazing into the waves.

At first, he couldn’t relax. The constant surging of the waves over the rocks just below made his heart tumble. Jordi had said they’d have to retreat up the rock shelf as the tide came in and Lex wasn’t sure how he’d know it was time. He’d heard so many stories over the years of rock fishermen being washed away. And they were often experienced too. People who knew what they were doing. There was no way he could judge when a bigger wave was coming in. And he already felt too close to the surf. He didn’t want to wait until the sea was licking at his boots.

Eventually though, as time passed, he began to relax and he leaned up against the rock behind him. It was mesmerising to watch the green swell rising up towards the platform and the waves splitting into rivulets of foam, frothing over the rocks and then sliding off with a hiss and a rush. The roar of the sea around them was soothing. It cut everything else out.

After a while, Lex realised he was happy, surprisingly at peace, and somehow alone, even with Jordi and Callista alongside. He glanced around at them and saw their faces, smooth and still, their eyes glazed into distance, their minds pleasantly disengaged, just being there, thinking of nothing, like him. So this was why people fished. Not just to haul in a catch, but for this—this detachment, this solitude. He smiled to himself. It was a revelation.

‘Yo!’ Jordi called.

But too late. A wave crashed suddenly over Lex’s legs, tugging at him, saturating him.

‘Pull back,’ Jordi yelled.

He indicated to Lex where he wanted him to move to, and Lex galloped there with his heart in his mouth. The line snagged behind him. He dragged at it frantically as another wave foamed over the shelf and swelled around his knees. A larger set of waves must be coming in. He needed to get to higher ground, and he wanted to drop the rod and run, but it was Jordi’s rod.

Then Jordi was beside him, fag still in his mouth. He leaned over and grabbed the rod with a firm hand. ‘You’re right, mate,’ he said. ‘Leave her to me. Just pop over there and I’ll fix her up for you.’

Lex was happy to give the rod over. He scampered up onto the next rock ledge and watched Jordi standing amongst the straining foam, jerking the rod to free the hook. He gave the line three hard pulls and then the hook seemed to twang free or break off. Jordi reeled in the line and leaped up to where Lex was.

He flashed a brief smile out of his beard. ‘That one came from nowhere, didn’t it?’

‘Bit close for me,’ Lex said.

‘You were all right.’ Jordi looked at his trousers. ‘Just got a bit wet.’

He examined Lex’s line. ‘Lost the hook,’ he said. ‘I’ll just fix another one on for you.’

Lex watched him lope across the rocks to fetch his fishing basket. He came back and pulled out another hook and baited it up again.

‘Here, you have a go at casting,’ he said, handing the rod back to Lex. ‘Like this. That’s right. Now cast it right out there.’

Lex whipped the rod up and over his shoulders like he’d seen Jordi do earlier. He felt the line paying out from the reel and liked the sound of it.

‘If I don’t drown, I can see myself learning to like this.’

Jordi flashed another small smile. ‘Look after my sister and I’ll see to it you don’t drown.’ He bent to pick up his own rod.

‘Oi,’ Callista called.

Lex saw her waving from the rock ledge she had retreated to when the bigger set of waves had rolled in. She had a smile on her face like a fresh breeze.

‘Are you having fun?’ she called over the roar of the waves.

‘Great,’ he yelled. ‘Just marvellous. You’d better say goodbye to me now, in case I get swept away next time.’

‘You’ll be right. Just keep your eyes open.’

They fished from the rocks for a couple of hours. Jordi pulled in a few fish, Callista caught one, and Lex pulled in some seaweed and lost two more hooks. But he figured he gained more than he lost. The easy companionship was some of the best he’d had here at Merrigan. There was a general feeling of camaraderie and support that went beyond Jordi’s aside about taking care of his sister. There was a sense of tolerance and acceptance, even with his bumbling breakage of lines and dodgy casting. And there was a peacefulness and startling proximity to nature that he hadn’t expected. It came with the near rush of the waves, and the intensity of the sound of water hammering over the rocks and gurgling among the cracks. There was a strange exhilarating joy in the risk of it and the bonding that arose from sharing the experience.

When they sat higher up to have lunch, tearing apart breadsticks and shaving slices of cheese, Lex felt the comfort of companionship, even with Jordi whom he hardly knew. He began to see that perhaps you didn’t have to have things in common with people to enjoy their company. There might be friendships he could make here in Merrigan after all.

It was warm that evening, and the sun lingered round and hot over the mountains. The house seemed breathless, waiting for the sea breeze to arrive. Lex took out the fish that Jordi had cleaned and scaled for him, and laid it on the chopping board, not quite sure what to do with it. Fish and chips were usually his limit, except for those occasions when Jilly cooked up some fancy fish recipe for a dinner party. And then his job had been to produce appreciative comments and clear the dishes away. He considered stashing the fish in the back of his freezer and forgetting about it, then decided he might wander next door and see if Mrs B had any suggestions.

There was a car parked beside her green Peugeot on the lawn and Lex almost turned back rather than interrupt, but Mrs B’s raspy voice called to him from the shadows of the verandah.

‘We’re up here having a cup of tea, Lex. Why don’t you come and join us.’

He walked hesitantly up the creaky steps onto the verandah and saw Mrs B sitting on a weathered old lounge. There was a man beside her, leaning up against the wall.

‘This is my son, Frank,’ Mrs B said. ‘I’ve been wanting you to meet him.’

The man stepped forward, reaching out with a friendly hand, and it was like meeting a younger masculine version of Mrs B.

‘Bit of a family resemblance,’ Lex said.

Mrs B laughed. ‘I didn’t think anyone could look as cracked and craggy as me.’

Lex and Frank shook hands.

‘Frank, get him a cup of tea, would you?’

Frank smiled blandly and went inside to find a cup.

‘How are you, lad?’ Mrs B asked.

‘I’m fine. But I’ve got a fish I don’t know what to do with.’

‘So you’re not much of a cook.’

‘Never had to be. Any suggestions?’

Frank came out and handed a cup to Lex. ‘Try wrapping it in foil with a dob of butter and a few herbs,’ he said. ‘Then pop it on the barbie or stick it in the oven. Good easy bachelor’s meal. Tasty, but simple.’

‘Sounds good.’ Lex nodded. ‘I’ll give it a try. I’ve never had to deal with a fresh fish before.’

‘You’re not a fisherman?’ Frank asked, sitting himself down on the couch with a grunt and a sigh.

‘Unfortunately, no.’

‘You’ll get into it if you stay around here for long.’

‘Frank’s come over to do my lawns,’ Mrs B said. ‘But I told him to wait until it cools down a little.’

‘I could help out,’ Lex said. ‘I don’t mind mowing lawns if Frank can’t get up here sometimes. So long as the lawnmower’s functional. I’m not much good at fixing things.’

‘Like fish,’ Mrs B said, and they laughed.

Lex leaned against the railing and sipped his tea.

‘Haven’t seen any whales lately,’ he said.

‘The migration’s done,’ Mrs B said. ‘They should be south, feeding up in Antarctica. Anyone who’s coming by now isn’t where he ought to be.’

Lex thought about the great upwelling of nutrients in the Southern Ocean where the cold Antarctic waters collided with the warmer currents from the north. The Antarctic Convergence, it was called. Massive swarms of krill abounded there, and pelagic creatures of every sort converged there too, for a feast. He thought of humpback whales feeding, taking in great mouthfuls of krill.

‘I’d like to see whales feeding,’ he said. ‘It’s supposed to be amazing. They run tours in Alaska.’

‘Too cold over there for me, sonny. And too far away.’ Mrs B frowned. ‘Are you always dreaming about being somewhere else?’

‘No. I like it here.’

‘I told you he was mad about whales,’ she said to Frank.

‘Thanks for taking her out whale-watching,’ Frank said. ‘She had a good time. Didn’t stop talking about it for days.’

‘You could have taken me,’ she said to him. ‘You could have taken me years ago.’

‘I didn’t know you wanted to go.’ Frank tried to defend himself.

‘You didn’t ask.’

‘It’s a neighbour’s job.’ Lex swept between them. ‘Takes an out-of-towner to think of these things.’

Frank narrowed his eyes at him. ‘You from Sydney?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bet you haven’t been to the Opera House in years.’

‘Not for a long time.’

‘See?’ he said to his mother. ‘Like he said. You just don’t do these things when they’re on your doorstep.’

Lex finished his cup of tea and tossed the dregs over the railing. ‘Best get back and have a go at that fish,’ he said.

‘Good luck.’ Mrs B’s thin lips stretched into a smile. ‘Make sure you don’t burn it.’

After the fishing trip, Lex didn’t see Callista for nearly a week. He rang and left a couple of messages for her, but she didn’t return his calls. This left him feeling wrung out and uncertain. The fishing trip had kindled a kind of reckless optimism in him, a surge of enthusiasm to know her better. But then this silence . . . what did it mean? Had he been reading too much into their interactions? Or was he simply being ruled by the physical side of things? By the sex. He ought to have a better grip on himself. She was more complex than he’d thought.

Then one day she arrived at the Point at dusk, restless and irritable, and suggested they make a fire on the beach.

While she fetched wine glasses, he stuffed some driftwood into a sack. He’d been collecting wood from the beach and saving it for winter for the wood heater. But if Callista wanted a fire tonight, she could have one. Anything to avoid conflict—although, watching her mood, it seemed conflict was inevitable. Something was eating at her. It made him wonder if he really needed all this . . . another relationship when he was still healing from the last one. He shouldered the sack and followed her down to the beach.