New Beginnings

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A last-minute change of plan had Alex and Jack sailing back to Waiheke with Blake rather than taking the ferry. Blake had had his haircut and breakfast had been with Diana and John. Now, Jack had the wheel, his confidence growing each time he was out sailing, Blake mused. A fresh, late afternoon breeze had sprung up, creating a decent chop on the water and the boat’s bow sliced through the waves with ease. Earlier in the day, while Alex had a shower, Blake had checked the CCTV images from the boat on his phone following a phone call from the security office at the marina. Two individuals were seen on the same pier Blake’s boat was moored and had been picked up standing alongside. Sure enough, when Blake ran the images, there were two of them who had stood alongside for at least fifteen minutes. He could see one was on the phone, while the other paced around, clearly nervous about being discovered. The lighting at the marina was good, and you would have to be some kind of stupid to hang around for too long because there were regular patrols along each pier. There was too much money tied up for the management to take security lightly. Neither of the individuals had attempted to board the Diana II. If Alex thought it odd that he insisted on checking the boat before she and Jack boarded, she didn’t mention it.

Dusk was falling when they dropped anchor in Cactus Bay. They placed rubbish into a garbage bag, then Blake rowed Alex ashore together with a cardboard box Diana had sent them on their way with, filled with frozen meals, freshly baked bread, cake, and the inevitable Afghan biscuits.  Once he carried the box indoors, he rowed back out to get Jack who was putting things away.

“Don’t know about you,” Jack said as Blake rowed them ashore, “But all that sailing has made me super hungry and exhausted.”

“Same here,” Blake agreed, “Just as well your grandmother took pity on us with all that food.”

“Yeah. Blake?” Jack’s tone had changed.

“Yeah?”

“About that Genevieve woman. Does her kid think you’re her dad?”

“I don’t know, Jack. Eloise is a few years younger than you, but I’m almost certain her father lives in Sydney and I’m equally certain Genevieve she has never told Royce and Arlene that Eloise’s father has custody of her. They’re both so stupid they never question why she turns up here in Auckland without Eloise.”

“Wow. She really is as crazy as them,”  he muttered.

“Crazy is as crazy does isn’t that what they say?  I guess like-minded people tend to gravitate toward one another.”

“When did you last see Eloise?”

“When she was about three months old. Not here in Auckland but when I was in Sydney visiting a university friend who was starting a business venture and was trying to get me to buy in. Not long after I made a fool of myself on your tenth birthday. Anyway, I saw Genevieve when I was having a coffee, her parents were friends with Royce and Arlene and not long after that she started with the whole baby shit.”

Without realising it, he and Jack had been sitting in the dinghy, halfway between the boat and the shoreline and it wasn’t until the outdoor sensor light, installed following his attack, came on and Alex walked across the grassy area that led onto the sand.

“Oops,” Jack said, “Just as well you’ve kept holding the dinghy with oars, otherwise we might be out to sea by now.”

Blake agreed, but sitting out there with Jack had been important because he clearly had questions about Blake’s past that he needed answers to, and Blake couldn’t argue with that. When they pulled the dinghy up onto the sand, Alex had her arms folded as though she was waiting for an explanation.

“Secret men’s business,” Blake told her as the three of them walked up to the house.

“Secret men’s business?” she echoed.

“That’s right and please don’t ask us for more information because you might embarrass us.”

She snorted, “Yeah, right! Please don’t tell me it was about the birds and the bees because Jack’s all up to date with that.”

“Mum! Can you please change the subject?”

“Yeah, good idea,” Blake said, “Let’s talk about food instead.”

“Are you cooking?” she asked.

“Me? I think we’ve already ascertained that I can boil water and reheat. Other than that, I’m definitely not your guy.”

“Ugh!” Alex groaned, “How about I teach you the finer points of microwaving a frozen meal.”

“Sounds good, what do you say Jack?”

“I’m already able to do that, Dad, so while Mum is teaching you, I might entertain myself with the Xbox.”

With that, Jack ambled into the house, leaving him outside with Alex.

“Is he okay?” she asked, holding him back with her hand on his arm, a slight frown creasing her brow.

“He’s fine. He needed a few questions answered, that’s all.”

“Is it private?”

“Not really. He wanted to know about Eloise, I think he was worried he had an unauthorised sister.”

“Unauthorised?”

“Yep. You know, there are authorised versions of things and unauthorised.”

Alex shook her head, “I feel sorry for that girl, having such a crackpot for a mother.”

“I know. Now, how about the cooking lesson?”

By the time they reached the kitchen, Blake noticed Alex had already set the table and had left one of Diana’s frozen meals on the bench.

“Is lasagne, okay?” she asked, waving the container at him.

“Sure.”

“I have garlic bread in the oven. Do you want a glass of wine or a beer?”

“Wine is good. I guess with all that garlic there won’t be any kissing tonight before I row back to the boat?”

“I don’t want you sleeping on that boat, Blake. Not after what happened to its predecessor.”

“Alex,” he said softly, “I’ll be fine.”

“You might be, but I won’t be able to sleep and trust me, you don’t want to encounter sleep-deprived Alex. She is an ugly beast!”

“Is she now?” Blake caught her hand reeled her against him, “Sounds like she might be kind of a mean girl. I don’t have any experience with mean girls, but I’m willing to learn.”

“Oh, she is and don’t deflect. You have a room here in the house and honestly, Blake, can you imagine what Mum would say if she knew I sent you to sleep on the boat?”

“Okay, I concede. Can I kiss you?”

“No. You can open that bottle of wine and call Jack, because that’s the oven and in a minute the microwave will be beeping.”

“Right. Yes. However, is there a chance of some kissing later?”

“Even with garlic breath?”

“Is it worse than morning dragon breath? I don’t believe I’ve kissed anyone with garlic breath so I can’t comment on that.”

“Ha, ha, me neither. As for morning dragon breath, you have me at a disadvantage there as well.”

Instead of releasing her hand he pulled her closer still and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek then ducked out of the way as she reached over to flick him with the towel she had picked up.

“Geez, you guys, what is this, preschool?”

Jack stood at the door of the kitchen, beaming happily at them.

“Your mother is misbehaving. Badly. She hasn’t even taught me how to cook a frozen meal in the microwave.”

“Dad, you’re not sleeping on the boat tonight, are you?”

“That’s why he didn’t get his cooking lesson,” Alex replied glibly, “He was talking about rowing back out there, later.”

“No way! What if you’d been on the boat when they blew it out of the water?”

Blake swallowed hard, all jokes aside, Jack’s heartfelt comment had him on the verge of tears. He placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze,

“Don’t worry, your mother has beaten me into submission and thank you, both of you, for caring about me.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack said, “Can I also say, seeing as I’m on a roll, that if you wanted to, I’m not going to be damaged for life if you decided to share a room.”

Blake laughed out loud, a mixture of relief and gratitude towards that boy whose love for is mother was such a joy to watch.

“Thank you, Jack,” he said, “We didn’t want to embarrass you, this is your home and while I’d love nothing more than to fight over the covers with your mother, I want to be sure you’re absolutely okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it, Dad. You’re a cool dude and I can’t imagine how I’ve gone all these years not having you around. But Mum and I have done just fine, haven’t we Mum?”

“That we have, Jack.”

“So, yeah, I’m okay with it,” he gave them one of his cheeky grins,

“Just don’t make too much noise, Lucas told me he can hear his parents sometimes and it totally grosses him out.”

Alex stood on the highest point of Motutawa, a series of sketches in her hand.

“This is where you want the Tawa saplings to go?” Blake asked, from behind her, alighting from the golf cart he’d discovered in a storage shed on the island a few weeks earlier. It had proved to be invaluable because she had taken delivery of forty Tawa saplings and the plan was for Blake, Xavier, and the boys to spend the next weekend planting out some of the saplings in the areas she had designated.

“Yeah. If we can get half up here and then another ten or so towards the southern end of the island, they’ll have a chance to get established before winter comes.”

“Sounds good. I’d like to have a good look through that shed as well,” he said, “There might be some other equipment in there that might come in handy.”

“Good idea. Do you want to head down there now?”

“Alright, hop on board.”

“If these are electric how come this works? Nobody has been on here for years.”

“I wondered about that as well although it did struggle to get up here, so we need to find a power source for it.”

Alex slid in beside him and the cart coasted down-hill toward the area that had once housed the restaurant, small grocery store and administrative area. Blake had discovered the large storage shed at the rear the complex. Owing to the amount of work needed to regenerate the island, Alex had paused taking any new commissions for the time being. The garden centres would continue to operate, and her Waiheke based crew were offered the opportunity to work on Motutawa, an offer they all accepted. The plan was to work in tandem with Conservation Department rangers, all of whom were experienced in regenerating and maintaining New Zealand’s native flora and fauna. However, it did throw up an issue with the logistics of getting workers onto the island, the rangers had access to their own boat, but  it was licensed to carry a maximum of eight people. When Blake mentioned the problem to her father, he had given Blake the name of a friend who had a boat building business and who was trying to sell a launch someone had ordered but not wanted or paid for. It was built to an older design, one both she and Blake were familiar with from their childhood. It could carry a dozen people, was built using recycled Kauri timber and had an almost brand-new engine. Blake was over the moon and the plan was to moor it in Orapiu Bay, the shortest distance between Waiheke and Motutawa. Once the boat had been paid for and registered in the name of the Motutawa Island Trust, Jack was tasked with the job of picking a name for her, something he was still working.

“Is there any way we can get this door to open right up so daylight reaches in here?” she asked as they approached the large shed.

“I hope so. Part of the problem is the runners that the door would slide on are rusty from the salt air and, I think the tide might have come up this far at some point. I could use bolt cutters to cut that chain on the smaller door, but then I’d have trouble locking it up again.”

Together they surveyed the door which Blake had been able to open only as wide as the golf cart that had been standing just inside the door. Standing with his back against one edge, he pushed, and it moved a little more.

She knelt down to look more closely at the runners, “You know what? If we had a piece of soap, we could coat the runners with the soap, that might help the castors move more easily.”

“Brilliant!” Blake exclaimed, “I have soap on the boat, it’s just good old Sunlight but it will do the job.”

He kissed her on the cheek then jogged back in the direction of the wharf, while Alex found a shady spot and sat down, pulling her knees up in front of her, clasping her arms in front. Every time Blake asked if she was available to come across to Motutawa, Alex was filled with excitement and anticipation. His own enthusiasm was contagious and made her understand how easily he must have burnt out in New York working all those crazy hours. Blake was meant to be outdoors, not stuck in an office. Granted it hadn’t been a typical office scenario, but he was indoors most of the time. Damn! She had scanned photos of Jack from newborn to the most recent sports team photo onto a USB and had planned on giving it to him but the assault and his time in hospital meant it was still her in her bag.

“Alex?”

“Over here,” she stood, dusting dried leaves and twigs from the back of her shorts. Catching sight of Blake, her mouth went dry, he had removed his tee shirt, the hard plane of his chest glistened with perspiration and when his gaze blended with hers, her heart hammered against her ribs. Blake Forrester was the embodiment of a mythological God!

“Found some!” he announced triumphantly and holding up the small yellow bar of soap.

Together they returned to the shed where Blake used his pocketknife to cut the soap in two, handing her a piece. On hands and knees, they rubbed the soap back and forth on either side of the runners, then worked the door back and forth along the runners. Eventually, the door opened wide for adequate daylight to see what was inside. Blake whistled,

“Holy crap! A generator! I guess it’s diesel, which is not that environmentally friendly, but it might come in handy for emergency power.”

“Wonder what all those boxes contain?”

Along the entire back wall of the shed and sitting on a stack of pallets were cardboard boxes. Blake climbed onto the pallets and pulled one of the boxes down, sliced through the packing tape and both gasped when they saw the contents.

“Cigarettes?” Alex murmured.

“Yeah. I think someone has been here, not recently but not too long ago either because these boxes are too well preserved and there is no sand on them.”

“But how did they get them in here?”

“Not sure. That door hasn’t been opened in forever and the chain -,” he stopped and returned outside, Alex on his heels. He lifted the chain,

“Now I get it. I didn’t look at this properly, but look, here, this is a new padlock. In this environment a padlock would last only a few months, even if it were one those expensive padlocks able to withstand the elements.”

“There must be thousands of cigarettes in there,” Alex said, “What are you going to do?”

“Call Dan Martin, he can either come over or put me in touch with whomever I need to speak to.”

Alex gnawed at her bottom lip and Blake gently rubbed her arms with his hands,

“Don’t worry. The police will get this stuff out of here in no time.”

“But what if they come back? The cigarette people, that is.”

“The conservation rangers are bringing some signs over here later in the day, they’ll go up on the wharf and around the island, warning boaties and anyone else for that matter that the island is privately owned and is being rehabilitated.”

“Wow, you certainly know how to get things happening, don’t you?”

He shrugged and kissed the top of her head,

“Don’t stress. It’s impossible for anyone to know who or what the Motutawa Island Trust is. Now, onto Dan.”

Dan Martin, Waiheke’s senior police officer and a junior constable arrived in a Zodiac an hour later. Alex had walked back down to the yacht with Blake, and they had lunch while they waited. Dan smiled, shook hands with them both and then followed them up to the shed. Like Blake, he whistled too. Shaking his head, he handed a camera to the junior officer who had been tasked with photographing the boxes and then emptying one and photographing the contents.

“Two people from Customs are on their way out here,” he said, “Apparently they’ve been aware of a smuggling operation somewhere in the gulf, but with no firm leads, it’s been a dead end.”

“Not anymore,” Blake murmured.

Once the haul had been documented, Dan produced a new heavy-duty chain and a combination lock,

“We’ll remove the other one, replace it and, I have another chain and lock in the boat, which we can use to secure this door,” he smiled at Alex, “Nice job with the soap, by the way.”

In the distance Alex could see a launch with powerful engines pushing through the water and reducing its distance from Motutawa quickly.

“Ah,” Dan said, “Customs. They’ll ask you all sorts of intrusive questions, but I guess it’s all in the job.”

There were four Customs officers and, as Dan had warned, were surly, leaving Alex feeling as though she and Blake had been hiding the cigarettes on Motutawa and were the masterminds of the entire smuggling operation. Together with Dan and his constable, the cartons were stacked and wrapped in plastic prior to being loaded onto the launch and a smaller boat being towed behind.  They produced a document for Blake to sign and weren’t too happy when he asked if he could read through it. As the Customs launch pulled away from the wharf, the conservation rangers arrived. Alex glanced at her watch, Jack’s rugby practice would be underway, so she and Blake needed to get back to Waiheke. She saw Blake check his own watch,

“Dan, we’re going to head back to Waiheke,” Blake said, “If you need access to Motutawa, just let me know. There will be quite a bit of activity here now with the conservation people as well as Alex and myself.”

“No problem, Blake.”

Blake shook Dan’s hand, welcomed the conservation rangers, then his arm across her shoulders, they walked the short distance down the wharf to the Diana II and set sail for Cactus Bay.