Cameron of the Seas

2: Bugs and Ducky-6

EVENTUALLY, PROJECT Sonar got underway, but in ways more interesting than she thought possible. The Q and A weren't so straightforward because now and then their conversation would digress. She had difficulty getting him back on topic, or rather keeping him on topic. He made it clear he wanted to talk about her, but she only wanted to talk about the ocean. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

She reminded him they had to dive sometime.

He suggested Magnetic Island and that they should do it in the afternoon.

‘Unfortunately,’ he said, ‘I’m Sydney-based and am likely to be called back to the Navy yard in a matter of days.’

She didn’t volunteer the information that she was a research scientist at the University of Sydney, less than ten minutes from the Navy yard in Potts Point. He would eventually find out, sleuthing about.

A couple of hours into the Q and A, she started to fidget.

‘I’m sorry to cut this short, but I need to go ASAP.’

He stared at her puzzled.

‘I’m serious,’ she said, ‘so I’ll see you this afternoon.’

He nodded and asked where she needed to be.

‘My parents’ house,’ she replied as she rose with purpose from her seat and headed out the door, not bothering to check whether he was following.

He opened his wallet and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table to cover their breakfast, hot on her heels.

He admired her from behind as she walked expertly in her four-inch black heels. She was wearing a white blouse tapered at the waist, paired with a knee-length A-line black skirt. The length of the skirt showed off a pair of beautifully carved calves. To a legs’ man such as Duck, those pins were amazing. The fact that she was wearing stilettos made him putty in her hands.

She sat quietly during the drive and only spoke when she needed to give him directions. She was in agony, her breasts engorged with milk. They felt enlarged, hard and sore. It was her fault; she hadn’t meant for the Q and A to stretch to three hours. She had allocated two, giving herself an hour for the travel to-and-fro. But here she was in agony, having pushed her luck. At least she was thankful she had expressed breastmilk stored in the freezer in case little Megan woke up hungry and she wasn’t home.

She felt as though she was covered in sweat; she removed four tissue papers from her purse in quick succession to wipe her forehead. Duck anxiously glanced at her, decisively concerned.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I am,’ she said, ‘just drive faster will you?’

He looked at the speedometer; he wasn’t doing too badly at eighty-m.p.h. And besides, it was just a travel time of ten minutes at most, from his recollection of Townsville’s general geography.

‘Step on it,’ she said again, gritting her teeth.

He quizzically looked at her but did as she requested. He was soon hooning at one hundred twenty miles per hour in suburban streets; minutes later, he screeched to a halt in front of a high-set Queenslander with an inviting wrapped-around veranda.

‘Thank you,’ she called, running into the house.

He curiously followed.

At the door, they were met by Filomena, who had been waiting anxiously for her return.

He watched Bonita dash into the bedroom.

With typical Filipino hospitality, Filomena invited him into the house. They introduced themselves in the absence of Bonita and headed into the kitchen, which was clearly the heart of the house. They chatted like old friends, with Filomena telling him to call her, ‘Fely for short.’

Bonita had been out of sight for a good half an hour when out of nowhere she appeared with a baby sucking at her breast. She was a sight to behold. Her maternity bra covered one breast, the other protected from complete exposure by her long hair. She had forgotten about him, or perhaps thought that he had scooted off in his Jeep and would be back in the afternoon.

Her eyes widened.

‘Oh, my God,’ she gasped. She looked at him, at her Mum, groaned loudly, turned back, walking quickly back to her room.

He didn’t know who was more surprised, him or her.

Fely realised what just happened and excused herself to calm her daughter down.

Duck thought, oh f**k, but smiled to himself when he realised, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

There was no point driving off and returning in an hour. He decided he would wait her out. She would come out eventually. He looked out the window in time to see two sulphur-crested cockatoos sitting side by side on the veranda’s rail.

He smiled.

Bugs and Duck. Sweet.

*

* * * *

BUT THE SWEETEST MEMORIES also cause the deepest cut. He felt as though someone, or something had got a hold of his heart and was squeezing it. The pain was hellish. It just was.