Aunt Lucy's Lover. Miranda Lee

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      CHAPTER THREE

      JESSICA’S flight on Sunday morning took two and a half hours. Two and a half long hours of butterflies in her stomach. Some due to her fear of flying; most to fear of the unknown that awaited her on Norfolk Island.

      She stared through her window the whole way, despite high cloud preventing a view of the ocean below. Not that she was really looking. She was thinking, and speculating, and worrying. It was only when they began their descent that the sight of the island itself jolted her back to the physical reality of her destination.

      Goodness, but it was picturesque, a dot of deep tropical green within a wide blue expanse of sea. But so small! Jessica knew from the travel brochures that the island only measured five kilometres by eight. This hadn’t bothered her till she saw that the airstrip was even smaller. She hoped the plane could stop in time, that it wouldn’t plunge off the end of the runway into the sea.

      The plane began to bank steeply at that moment, a wing blocking Jessica’s view of the island. All she could see was water—deep, deep water. Her insides started to churn. She did so hate flying, especially the landing part.

      The plane landed without incident, thank heavens, quickly taxiing over to a collection of small terminal buildings. There was a short delay while everything was sprayed for God knows what and some lady with a foreign accent gave a brief talk over the intercom about the island and its rules and regulations.

      Jessica rolled her eyes when she heard the speed limit was only fifty kilometres an hour around the island generally, and a crawling twenty-five kilometres an hour through the town and down on the foreshores at Kingston. Drivers were warned they had to give way to all livestock on the roads.

      Lord, she thought with rueful amusement. This was as far removed from Sydney as one could get!

      The formalities finally over, she hoisted her roomy tan handbag onto her shoulder and alighted, relieved to find that it wasn’t all that hot outside, despite the sun beginning to peep through the parting clouds. She’d worn a summer-weight pants-suit for travelling, a tailored cream outfit that didn’t crease. But it had a lined jacket and wasn’t the coolest thing she owned.

      Her hair was cool, though, slicked back into the tight chic knot she always wore for work. Her makeup was expertly done to highlight her big dark eyes and full mouth. Her jewellery was discreet and expensive. A gold chain around her neck. Gold studs in her lobes. A gold watch around her slender wrist.

      She looked sleek and sophisticated, and a lot more composed than she was feeling.

      The short walk across the tarmac to the small customs building was enough for Jessica to see that whilst the air temperature felt moderate, the humidity was high. As soon as she arrived at her aunt’s house she’d change into something lighter.

      In no time Jessica had secured her suitcase and was through customs. It seemed there was some advantage coming to tiny places like this. She’d barely walked into the terminal building when a funny little barrel-shaped woman with frizzy grey hair touched her on the arm.

      ‘You’d have to be Jessica,’ she said, smiling up at her.

      ‘And you must be Evie,’ Jessica responded, smiling back. Impossible not to. Mr. Slade had been right about that. Evie was the sort of person one liked on sight. She had a round face with twinkling grey eyes and a warm smile. She wore a shapeless floral tent dress and might have been sixty.

      Jessica was given a brief but all-encompassing appraisal. ‘You don’t look much like your mother, do you?’

      She certainly didn’t. Her mother had been petite and fair with blue eyes.

      Still, Jessica’s heart leapt at Evie’s observation.

      ‘You knew my mother?’

      ‘Well, of course I knew your mother, lovie! I’ve lived on this island for near nigh forty years now. Everyone knows everyone around here. You’ll soon learn that. I knew your grandparents, too. Come on,’ Evie urged, taking her arm. ‘Let’s get out of this crowd and into some fresh air.’

      Jessica allowed herself to be led down some steps and out into a half-empty car park. Her thoughts were whirling. If Evie had known her grandparents, did that mean they’d lived here on this island, as well? Had her aunt and her mother been born here? Were her family islanders?

      The desire to bombard Evie with questions was great, but something held Jessica back for the moment. Probably an instinctive reluctance to admit she was so ignorant about her own past.

      Or was she afraid to find out the truth, now that it was within her grasp?

      ‘The car’s over here,’ Evie said.

      It was a Mazda. Small, white, dented and dusty. It was also unlocked, with the keys in the ignition.

      Jessica could not believe her eyes. ‘Er, don’t you think you should have locked your car?’ she said as she climbed into the passenger seat, not wanting to criticise but unable to keep silent.

      Evie laughed. СКАЧАТЬ