Chapter Eight
Sam Reilly had discarded his Sea Scooter in the shrubbery and started the long, painful walk into town. It had been years since he’d been to Shoal Haven. He couldn’t quite remember how far it was to town, but he knew it wasn’t a long drive.
Half an hour later, the adrenaline rush had worn off, and he now realized just how exhausted he felt as a white Jeep pulled over alongside him.
“You want a ride?” It was the beautiful blonde girl from the beach.
“Sure would. Thanks.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Anywhere in town would be nice.” He didn’t have much strength left for lies.
The Beatles were playing in the background.
She turned the radio volume down and said, “So, what’s your story? I mean, you clearly weren’t out for a reef dive.”
She had a mostly American accent with just the slightest hint of a European background, which he couldn’t quite place. She’d probably studied at some swanky Ivy League college and had spent years trying to eliminate her original accent.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
She skidded her car to a stop.
“Listen here. I’ve done some wreck diving myself over the years, and I’m not a bad skin diver, but I’ve never seen someone dive wearing their normal clothing.” She looked as though she might throw him out of her car. “And, for another thing, where’s your dive gear? What’d you do with it… throw it away after you had your one and only dive, or was it just too hard to carry home again after carrying it all the way here without a car? You can tell me the truth or you can get out of my car right now.”
Sam considered stepping out of the car and walking away, but decided that he was better off telling the truth to a complete stranger.
“I was out sailing, and…”
Understanding dawned in her eyes.
“So you sunk?”
“Yes.”
“What? Like for an insurance claim or something? Is that why you’re so secretive about it?”
He laughed out loud at the very idea.
“No, insurance is the least of my worries. Actually, my boat has been sinking for a number of hours, and I’ve been too embarrassed to do anything about it. I’m far more concerned about what my father’s going to do when he hears that I was so careless.”
“Jesus, are you all right?” He thought he saw some sort of understanding in her eyes. She’d been the recipient of enough prejudice from her own father.
“I’ll be fine. Hey, do you mind if I use your phone?”
“Sure, go for it.” She had a kind smile, Sam decided.
He bent down to pick it up off the center console. Sam noticed that she hadn’t bothered to change her clothes, and her long tanned legs could be seen in their entirety. He struggled not to stare, sat up, and dialed the number.
“I’m surprised you can still remember anyone’s phone number by heart.”
“This guy’s been my best mate since I was a kid. His is just about the only phone number I’ve ever bothered to memorize.”
The ring tone ended as someone picked up.
“Tom, it’s me.”
“Hey Sam, where are you? James is still pretty pissed that you refused to answer his calls, given the whole Cyclone Petersham thing. You won’t believe what we did…”
Sam cut him off short.
“Hey, I’ll hear all about it soon. It’s a long story, but I need you to pick me up from…” he looked at the beautiful woman sitting next to him who mimed the words “Shoal Haven.” I’m in Shoal Haven, he recited. I don’t have my phone, wallet or anything else with me. Can you be here in about an hour? I’ve got a few important things to do.”
“Sure, I’ll bring the helicopter.”
“Good, I’ll see you shortly. Thanks pal.”
He handed the phone back to her. “Thanks for that…” He stopped short. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know your name. I’m Sam Reilly.” He said, shaking her hand. It was firm, more like a man’s handshake than a woman’s, but without the intent to prove who had the strongest grip. It was the handshake of someone who had spent years doing business with men and treated them equally.
“Aliana,” she said, and he noted that she’d withheld her surname.
She had a beautiful smile, and he wished the drive into town was longer.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said.
“Where’s your friend coming from?”
“Who?”
“Your best bud. The guy you just called, who’s just going to drop whatever it was he was doing to come and pick you up?”
“Oh, Tom? He’s in Sydney.”
“What, and he’s going to get here in an hour? It’s about a four hour drive. I know, I drove it just last week.”
“Yeah, well I told him he could take the company’s helicopter.”
“Your company?” She sounded surprised.
“No, I just manage a section of it,” he admitted.
“You must be pretty important to the company if you have a helicopter to come pick you up. What do you do?”
“I work for a company called Global Shipping, but I manage only a very small part of it, involved in Special Operations. We’re involved in some salvage stuff, but mainly we work on consignment to various government agencies around the world. We do outside investigations into water quality, environmental issues, and stuff like that.”
“You work on the ocean?” She asked, sounding surprised.
“Yep.”
“And you just sank your own sailing yacht?”
“Yeah, well… now you can see why I’m being so coy.” Although unaccustomed to it, Sam feigned embarrassment as best he could.
She shook her head in amazement.
About five minutes later they arrived in the center of Shoal Haven. It was a little coastal village with a coffee shop and a couple of cafes, which were the only things open this early on a Sunday morning.
He got out of the car and thanked her again.
She was about to drive away when he stopped her.
“Say, can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?” He smiled. It was a hopeful grin and then he added, “My flight is still going to take a while to get here.”
“Do you have any money on you? I thought you lost everything?” She said, her smile teasing him.
“You’re right. Can you buy me a coffee, and I’ll pay you back when my ride gets here?”
“Come on.” She smiled back at him comfortably, like a girl who doesn’t normally get involved in other people’s problems. “I’ll spot you.”
At the end of the deck was a place called “Café de Pacific.” It had an outlook over the ocean in the distance. They seated themselves and ordered, and Sam asked for a large jug of water, which he drank down the second it arrived at their table.
“So, what’s your story?” he asked, genuinely interested in hearing it.
“Mine?” She smiled again. Sam thought that he could get used to watching her smile. “I’m studying Microbiology at MIT.”
“No kidding? I have a Master’s in oceanography from MIT.”
She gave him that look which he translated to mean, “Sure, like you could afford MIT as a tugboat driver.”
He ignored the look and said, “So, do you come from old money too?”
“Oh yeah, that’s my family.” She said sarcastically. “My dad’s forever trying to send me my own helicopter.”
Sam laughed at that. More from his understanding and his past experiences than he would ever let her know.
“No, I’m there on a scholarship, actually.”
“Hey, good for you.” He’d already picked up that she was bright. “What… like a Rhodes scholarship or something like that?”
“Yeah, something like that…” she replied. Still, that smile seemed to become even cuter, as though she was deciding whether or not to keep hiding something.