‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Feels good to be back.’ She meant that sincerely. It was something of a relief to return to a familiar set with friendly faces. She’d put in her resignation, but they’d asked her to reconsider on the grounds that the network news executive producer, Steve Saunders, had been fired. She’d said nothing about her reasons for the resignation, but the rumours within the network’s hallways were rife and, of course, Saunders’ reputation preceded him. Apparently, he’d been seeing a pretty young thing in News down in Melbourne. There’d been complications. The girl had fallen pregnant and Saunders had laughed at her when she came to him for some assistance. Unfortunately for Saunders, the girl in question was the chairman’s niece, working at the network incognito, without uncle’s influence until, of course, the pregnancy test returned a positive result.
The network execs, possibly nervous about additional scandal, had sweetened the deal for Annabelle, giving her the opportunity to film a series of syndicated news specials — the subject matter could be of her choosing. That was great. She could become a national ‘face’ and still keep her base at Townsville. Where Tom lived.
Annabelle sat in the chair behind her desk while the crew partially broke the set, a corner of which was required for a game show to be recorded later in the evening. She listened to the overhead lights cool, ticking like excited crickets. It was these quieter moments she feared the most, when the same questions that kept coming back and back invaded her thoughts. What about Tom and me? Is there a chance for us? She’d tried to call him but she’d met with the usual operational silence bullshit from the regiment. They wouldn’t even tell her whether or not he was in the country.
Indeed, there’d been absolutely no communication between her and Tom since she’d called the engagement off, and yet she did feel different about things. In some ways, she was now even more confused. Was it just because she missed Tom painfully and was prepared to compromise her own beliefs to be with him? Or had her experiences both in Sydney and Darwin changed some fundamental beliefs? She didn’t want a husband who came home in a body bag rather than in a Volvo. I read the headlines. I don’t want a husband who makes them. A husband was a man you sat on the couch with, did grocery shopping with, had children with. A man like her own father. The trouble was that now, after Darwin, she wondered whether a man like her father — a sports store retailer — would ultimately bore her. She’d experienced the raw adrenalin rush of stepping into the danger zone. Because of that, she believed she understood Tom much better than she ever had in the past.
And since she’d called it quits with Tom, her career path had taken a detour. She didn’t have to be a newsreader, tied to a desk in the one place. She could get out amongst the big stories, do pretty much whatever she pleased, go wherever she wanted to go, cover the issues that mattered. Darwin had been frightening, but it had also been exhilarating. To her surprise, she’d handled herself well. And if there was no reconciliation for her and Tom, well, that sort of life would certainly take her mind off the man she loved, wouldn’t it?
‘Belle.’
Annabelle smiled while she shuffled her notes into a folder. Now she was even hearing his voice.
‘So…are you going to sit there in the dark all night?’ said Wilkes.
‘Tom?’ She didn’t know what to do, to run into his arms or be cool. ‘Tom, I…’
Wilkes walked onto the set, into what little light there was, even now not really knowing what he was going to say. He missed her so much it ached. He’d asked her to marry him in the first place because he wanted to demonstrate to her how much she meant to him, to lift their relationship to a higher level. But rather than making things even better, the proposal had had the opposite effect. They’d had it all, and now they had, what? Nothing?
Annabelle looked amazing, her blue dress reflecting the colour of her eyes. She was so beautiful, his memory of her never did the reality justice. He breathed the air filled with her scent, and considered at that moment leaving the army to be with her, if that was what she wanted.
Annabelle stood and walked towards him, wanting to throw her arms around him and feel his strength, but she resisted the impulse.
‘I wanted to see you, probably shouldn’t have, but you know me — danger’s my middle name,’ Wilkes said, trying hard to be as relaxed as possible. He rubbed the top of his head with the flat of his hand.
Annabelle watched him — that gesture — and knew he was as nervous as she was. ‘No, Tom. Dorkface is your middle name.’
‘I saw you in Darwin. On television. What were you doing there? I thought you were in Sydney.’
‘Sydney wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. They’ve given me a new job.’
‘Back here? Reading the news again?’
‘Sort of.’
‘When I saw you in Darwin, in the chemical suit, I was…’
‘Scared?’
‘Yeah, scared.’
‘You? That turns the tables a bit,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘I guess it does.’
‘Tom, I’ve learned a few things about myself lately, about us.’
‘I didn’t think there was an us,’ he said.
Annabelle looked into Tom’s eyes. This was the moment of decision — for her and for him. Was it possible, or even desirable, to go back to the relationship the way it was, a never-ending series of breathless hellos and goodbyes, intensely sexual and passionate on one hand, but empty on the other? They were apart so much, she wasn’t even aware of any bad habits he might have, aside from the usual leaving-the-seat-up problem that men universally had. Perhaps the very thing she resented and feared, his deployment to dangerous and secret places, was also the spice that kept their relationship fresh and alive. In a husband, she wanted a man who would keep her excited, yet also be dependable. Were ‘exciting’ and ‘dependable’ mutually exclusive? Could Tom ever be that man? She’d once asked him to make a choice — her or the regiment. That wasn’t fair. Or was it?
Tom read her silence as indecision. It hung over them uncomfortably. No, I guess there isn’t…‘Belle,’ he began, the words occurring to him as he spoke, ‘one of us would have to give up a big part of themselves to be with the other. The army is all I know, all I’ve ever known. If I leave it, will I still be the man you’ve loved? Will I still be me?’ As Tom heard himself speak, the less he was convinced by his own argument, but it was better than being hurt again, told that he didn’t measure up. ‘And what about you? Could you honestly do without all this?’ He looked around the studio.
Annabelle’s eyes filled with tears, because suddenly she was no longer confused. The last couple of months — her experiences, her tangled emotions — had taught her a truth that suddenly became apparent. It wasn’t about money, or position, or her job. Her happiness, fulfilment — whatever she chose to call it — was simply about sharing her life with the man she loved. This man. She wanted to say, ‘Yes, Tom, I could if you could,’ but she also knew the truth she’d learned was something Tom would have to conclude for himself. So, instead, Annabelle said goodbye. ‘Tom, I’ll love you always.’
Annabelle’s perfume swam in Tom’s brain. He wanted to hold her and tell her they’d just made the biggest mistake of their lives, but what would be the point of that? So, instead, he turned and walked away.
Timor Sea
The vast majority of Barrenjoey Island was barely an island at all, being really no more than a few sizeable heads of coral a hundred and fifty miles east of Ashmore Island that struggled above the waterline here and there, depending on the tide. The island’s shape was that of a horseshoe, broken in several places, allowing the sea to drain away as the tide dropped. At the base of this horseshoe was a small white sand beach and a handful of battered but resilient coconut palms that gave shelter to a small ecosystem. Occasionally, recreational sailing craft would venture carefully within the two arms of the enveloping horseshoe, drawn by the postcard perfection of the white sand beach, swaying palms and azure lagoon waters, following the warnings laid out on the charts to drop both bow and stern anchors. Fortunately, on this particular morning, the lagoon was empty of sailing craft.