the boots and tan of someone who worked outdoors for a living.
‘Hayden, this is Caryn,’ Shirley said next to him. ‘And that—’ she nodded at the enormous chomping head fifteen feet above them ‘—is Twuwu. She’s en route to a new home in New Zealand.’
Shirley greeted the woman as he still struggled to find words. En route to a zoo. Of course she was. He’d never had occasion to think about how else you got an animal as big as a giraffe across an ocean.
Shirley went straight into Shiloh mode, asking what were clearly not her first questions of the day, examining the box, leaning back on a tower of containers and just … contemplating. He watched her do her thing but mostly he watched Twuwu. She was so very unconcerned by what was happening around her, content to merely munch on her hay.
‘Is she sedated?’ he asked.
Caryn turned to him and gave him a winning smile. She was every bit a daughter of nature. Golden-haired, tanned, fit. And interested. Instantly obvious.
‘She was lightly sedated for the drive down to the port, and the loading. But she’s fully recovered now.’
‘She’s placid.’
‘She’s spent a lot of time in that crate preparing for the journey. It’s become like her stable.’
He glanced around at the multicoloured wall of containers that surrounded the crate on all sides. ‘What would happen if she saw the ocean?’
Again the brilliant smile. Caryn sank on one hip and looked up at him. ‘Hopefully we won’t find out.’
Shirley rejoined them. ‘Will you stay out here for the whole journey?’ she asked tightly.
‘Most of the day, monitoring her condition, but I’ll sleep up in the cabins with everyone else.’
Did she just flick him a glance? Yes, she did.
Well, well …
Shirley continued with her questions and, before long, they knew everything there was to know about international wildlife transactions and the toiletry habits of giraffes. He watched Shirley work—drawing conclusions, filing away every answer for a future story. Eventually all the questions were asked and all the good reasons to be hanging around evaporated.
‘You should come back and visit Twuwu during the trip,’ Caryn said to Shirley but her eyes flicked to his again. ‘She likes company.’
Shirley thanked her and they retraced their steps back through the maze of containers from the heart of the ship to the edge.
‘You seem very relaxed.’ Just when he thought he liked her best off kilter. Mellow Shirley made him think about long, lazy summer sleep-ins. Naked.
Not appropriate.
‘There’s something about this ship … Maybe it’s the gentle sway … But it chills me out. I find myself relaxing.’
‘Maybe it’s me?’
Her immediate laugh ricocheted off the containers. ‘It’s not you.’
Right. Then again, his first instinct on getting her alone in a room with a bed in it had been to paw her. So …
‘The giraffe then?’ Twuwu had certainly done wonders for his blood pressure.
‘Maybe.’ They turned out of the massive load of containers at the edge of the ship. ‘I’ll certainly be visiting again. What an awesome bonus.’
Their next steps passed in silence. Until he couldn’t take it any more. ‘What do you want to do now?’ he blurted.
She turned and blinked at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Us. What will we do now?’ And for the next four days.
She laughed and started walking again. ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m going to start a story for next week.’
He frowned. ‘You’re working on this trip?’
‘Of course. So are you.’
He was supposed to be. But … ‘We’re in the middle of the ocean. Surely that demands some down time?’
‘You’ve had two years of down time. Are you really so hungry for more?’
No. But he was hungry for something and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was an odd kind of … emotional famine. Then it dawned on him.
He wanted company. Shirley’s company.
‘I’m bored. Sea life is interminable.’
She laughed again and jogged ahead of him up the functional steel staircase. He lagged back to appreciate the view. ‘We’ve only been out of the harbour for a couple of hours, Popeye,’ she said.
‘Entertain me.’
She threw him an arch look back over her shoulder. ‘Entertain yourself.’
He thought about Caryn. Then dismissed it. Prodding at Shirley was so much more fun. ‘You can write your story when it’s dark.’
‘I plan to be sleeping when it’s dark.’
‘Really?’ He followed her from the deck into the long corridor that their cabins were in. ‘That’s a lot of cabin time. What will I do?’
She paused at her door. ‘Whatever you want. I have work to do.’
Seriously? She was ditching him? ‘Will I see you in the mess room?’
She turned back from unlocking her door. ‘Seven p.m. sharp.’ She stepped into the room, faced back out at him and leaned on the door. Smiling the way you did to door-to-door salesmen you wanted to get rid of. ‘See you then.’
And then she was gone and Hayden stood staring at the flaking paint on the timber, speechless for the second time in a day.
Blonde.
Of course she was. And, in case Hayden hadn’t noticed her golden locks, Caryn had tossed them around unmissably. Her skin as tanned as Twuwu’s markings and with lashes just as long, too. And all the while she’d hovered off to the side, ignored, with her thick hair hauled back in a sea-sensible ponytail and her face virtually make-up-less.
Shirley lay back on one of the two beds in the room and glared at the ceiling. Could it be any more grey or uninspiring?
Could she be any grumpier?
She’d liked Caryn just half an hour earlier. They’d chatted for ages about her work and destination. Then she’d introduced Hayden, picked up on the none too subtle vibe pinging between the two of them and rapidly gone off her.
Not that it was Caryn’s fault. She was blonde, gorgeous and willing. Exactly Hayden’s type, even if she was wearing steel-capped boots and serviceable shorts and not something slip-thin
