idea what you heard, but yeah, they would have been.’
A strange kind of earnestness tinged his expression. She frowned. ‘You didn’t sleep with Caryn?’
‘I did not.’
The overhead radio crackled out music but the silence from the kitchen suggested the cook had tiptoed out or was listening in avidly to the raised voices in the mess room. Probably the latter. Maybe he had more English than he let on.
‘Right. Okay then.’
Awkward …
His lips twisted but she couldn’t honestly call it a smile. ‘Apology accepted.’ His voice lowered dangerously. ‘Now you can tell me something, Shirley … Exactly what business is it of yours what I do? Or with whom?’
She pressed her lips together. ‘I … It’s not.’
‘Insufficient.’
Of course he wasn’t going to let her just walk away from having made a colossal ass of herself. He was Hayden. She hissed out a breath. ‘You’d just finished telling me how she’d yammered at you all night. So the thought that you’d go straight to her from …’ She ran flat out of steam. And courage.
His eyes grew keen. ‘Straight to her from you?’
She sat up straighter. ‘Straight to her from our argument.’
‘No. From you. That’s what’s bothering you.’
All right, fine. ‘You kissed me half to death yesterday and just hours later you were kissing her.’
‘Only I wasn’t.’
‘I didn’t know that.’ She took a breath. ‘It … disappointed me.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m sure I disappoint you daily. That’s nothing new.’
She didn’t answer.
‘I have no obligation to you, Shirley. We’re friends.’ He glanced away. ‘If that.’
Ouch. That hurt, unexpectedly. ‘We’re friends,’ she confirmed.
‘Then how have I broken faith with you?’
‘I just …’ What? She had no idea why she had such massive expectations of him. She sank back in her chair. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know how. I’m sorry.’
The silence in the kitchen slowly returned to the sounds of cooking. Their conversation had apparently become less riveting. Hayden’s eyes went from thoughtful to slightly abashed.
‘You don’t need to beg my forgiveness any more than I need to explain myself to you.’
Friends apologised to friends. Friends explained things to friends.
Not owing him an explanation was a careful way of double reinforcing the fact that they barely even made friend status. As if she’d been clinging to some kind of illusion.
Maybe she had.
Silence resumed.
‘How did you go for Internet signal yesterday?’ he asked, finally breaking it.
‘Good. The ship has a router on the accommodation deck. The Wi-Fi is good.’
‘Great.’
Awesome. Talking about Internet signal strength. Only marginally less pathetic than talking about the weather.
‘Does that mean you’re going to be working today?’ she checked.
‘I think I might. Up here in the recreation area. See what I can get done.’
Was she surprised he was in no hurry to hang out with her? Or even near her. ‘Okay. Good luck with that.’ She stood. ‘I’m going to head off for a shower.’
‘Catch you later, then.’
And less enthusiastic words had never been spoken. She noticed the careful way he studied the watery horizon.
Lord.
It was going to be a long four days.
THE CONVOY pulled away and rumbled off into the distance, leaving Hayden and Shirley standing on the edge of the Gibbston Highway, daypacks in their hands. Twuwu’s massive head poking out the back of the trailer grew smaller and smaller in the distance until she pulled it back inside her crate.
Shirley did a slow three-sixty, taking in the dramatic view around them. This part of New Zealand’s South Island was a topographer’s delight, all ancient ranges and green river valleys with turquoise water lying far below. On the horizon, snow-capped mountain peaks were protected by a layer of white cloud.
‘So, here we are,’ she breathed.
‘They’re expecting us?’
‘They know we’re coming today, just not when.’
And thanks to Caryn and Twuwu being the first piece of freight off the Paxos, they were hours ahead of what she’d forecast.
They started walking towards a distant car park to check in. Beyond that was an old steel and stone suspension bridge that forded the river rushing by fifty metres below. And dotted all over that were people. Everywhere. Even though it wasn’t yet mid-morning.
A long scream punctuated the serenity like the cry of an eagle soaring overhead, chased, moments later, by cheers and whistles.
She sucked in a breath.
Hayden glanced at her. ‘Nervous?’
Until that moment, she hadn’t been. She’d been way too busy being distracted by Hayden’s emotional withdrawal. But given how her body reacted to simply walking up the Paxos’s gangplank, she suddenly doubted whether she’d be able to step out into the nothingness of open space at all.
Cord or no cord.
Fear was not a good way to get something like a bucket list achieved. She blew the breath out carefully. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’
The organisers slotted them in after the present batch of jumpers had gone through. They waited for the first hour on the observation deck, which hung out high above the gorge, amongst the friends and families of those taking the leap. As the morning wore on, the deck got more and more slippery as those taking the plunge climbed back up the side of the valley, wet, and then joined the spectators to vicariously relive their experience.
‘That’s a good sign,’ Hayden murmured close to her ear. ‘If it was traumatic I doubt people would stick around to watch others going through it.’
Trauma.
