As they walked up to the door, Morag felt a sudden surge of affection for the old man who’d surely surpassed himself this day.
She entered without knocking, ushering Grady with her. Hubert was sitting at the kitchen table, fully dressed.
He hadn’t been fully dressed for months, Morag thought, stunned. In his fishermen’s ancient jersey and overalls, he looked far younger than the Hubert she’d treated that afternoon. He looked tough and competent and extremely worried.
As they entered his face cleared, just a little.
‘I thought you’d never come, girl. Thank God for it.’
‘This is Dr Reece,’ she told Hubert, and then moved to her first concern. ‘Robbie…’
‘He’s fine,’ Hubert told her. ‘Or he’s as well as he can be. We both saw what happened and he knew you were all right. Chris Bartner brought his telescope up to the ridge, and we’ve seen everything that’s happened since. But Robbie’s scared for his mates. For Hamish. And my…for all our friends.’
Morag swallowed. ‘I haven’t gone over the lists in full.’
‘The lists…’ Hubert watched her face and then rose stiffly and crossed to the stove. He lifted the kettle and filled his blackened teapot. His niece would be waiting a while longer for her inheritance, Morag thought dully. Hubert’s teapot was still very definitely needed.
Then-teapot full-Hubert nodded gravely across at Grady.
‘If you’re a doctor, then you must be one of the people who came in by the first helicopter. Thank God for you. Chris’s wife came up half an hour back to tell us we could leave our watching, and she said our Sam would live, thanks to you.’ He hesitated. ‘But, Morag, I need to know. Chris’s wife couldn’t speak for weeping. Elias is… Elias
So she told him. It still seemed totally unreal. Sitting at the scrubbed wooden table, eating sandwiches that Hubert had magically produced-she hadn’t realised how hungry she was but now she ate without tasting-sipping hot, sugared tea, with Grady sitting beside her, Morag outlined the damage as she knew it.
All the houses along the seafront were damaged, some irreparably. The flimsier structures, such as the shed that had served as a fire station, had never stood a chance. Even some of the stronger-built houses had been smashed to firewood. There were twelve confirmed deaths now, mostly from those first awful minutes. Death by sheer smashing force or by drowning as people had been caught in rubble, unable to escape the water. Another six had been reported missing. So far. Not including the Koori population, and the initial reports from the settlement were disastrous. She needed to go out there.
She needed to do so much. So many missing…
Maybe the missing were still alive, she told herself. But maybe not. The more time passed, the more unlikely it was that anyone would be found.
But all the local boats were assisting in the search-boats that had, thankfully, been out at sea when the wave had struck. The local fishermen were now combing the coast, trying to find anyone or anything swept away.
That was the appalling news. That was the news that made Hubert’s face grow grey, and Morag put out a hand, ostensibly to give him comfort but also to check his pulse…
There was more. Little things she’d learned without realising it came to her now as she sat between these very different men. The loss of Robbie’s teddy. Pets. William Cray’s border collie. William was a writer, who had made the island his solitary home. He considered himself an intellectual-a cut above the islanders. He kept to himself. Yet as she’d walked to the lighthouse, Morag had seen him sitting on the debris-strewn beach, sobbing in appalled disbelief.
His dog was nowhere.
And the injured and the missing… Among them…
No. She wasn’t going down that road. She wouldn’t say it unless she knew for sure.
‘What’ll we do?’ Hubert whispered as Morag’s voice finally trailed off. Grady had stayed silent, seeming to know that she needed to talk. By making it real, maybe she could take it out of the realms of nightmare. Maybe it could be something that was over.
But, of course, it wasn’t.
‘I don’t know,’ she told him. ‘But… Thank you for caring for Robbie. I had to trust you.’
Her voice faltered and Grady’s hand came across the table to touch her. One day four years ago she’d pulled away from this comfort. Not now. Now when she needed him so much.
His touch was light. Intuitively, he was letting her focus still on Hubert.
‘You knew I wouldn’t let you down,’ Hubert told her, his voice becoming all at once fierce. He glanced across the table at Grady, and his old eyes were suddenly defiant. ‘That’s what this island is all about. We depend on each other. We’re tight-knit. And we’re not done yet. No blasted wave is going to smash away our community.’
He had realised the situation well before her, Morag thought. While she’d been down at sea level tending to medical imperatives, Hubert had sat up here caring for Robbie, watching for more waves and thinking through what this meant long term.
‘It’s not the first time Petrel Island’s faced tragedy,’ he told Grady, still fiercely, as if in Grady he saw the threat of the outside world. The threat of the end of this lifestyle. ‘When I was a kid they were still remembering the
‘You’re a doctor and you try and save us all,’ he told her. ‘But there’s always fate, girl and you can’t rail about it. You take what comes.’
‘You fight,’ Morag said.
‘Yeah, you fight, and that’s what you’ve been doing today while I’ve cared for the bairn.’ He shrugged and cradled his teacup some more. ‘He’s a good kid, Morag. He knew he couldn’t go down. He knew he’d have to wait up here with me. Waiting’s the hardest but we did it together. He’s in my bed.’ A crooked smile crossed his face. ‘With Elspeth. The two of them are worn out with worrying. I reckon I just might have to put Robbie’s name on Elspeth.’
‘Elspeth is Hubert’s golden retriever,’ Morag told Grady. ‘And here he is promising to leave her to Robbie when he dies. But…don’t die tonight, will you, Hubert?’
‘Can’t,’ Hubert said bluntly. ‘Someone else is in my bed. You want to join him? It’s a big bed.’
Morag flashed an unsure glance at Grady. ‘I…’
‘You look stuffed to me,’ Hubert told her. ‘What do you reckon, fella?’ He jabbed Grady in the chest. ‘You agree you’re capable of seeing that our girl is done in?’
‘She is,’ Grady said seriously. ‘There’s beds being set up in tents on the cricket ground.’
‘Do they need her there now?’
Grady glanced at his watch. ‘Maybe not,’ he conceded. ‘The urgent medical cases have been seen, the worst have been evacuated and Jaqui’s there now in case more problems arise. We’ll take it in turns to sleep and she’ll call us if she needs us.’
‘Then, barring complications, you can both get some shut-eye up here,’ Hubert said in satisfaction.
Morag gazed across the table in wonder at this dying old man who suddenly wasn’t anywhere near dying. He seemed like a man in charge. ‘Hubert, you’re the one who’s sick.’
‘I’m still dying,’ Hubert said morosely. ‘But I’m not sick. There’s a difference.’
‘Why are you dying?’ Grady asked, startled, and Hubert snorted.
‘’Cos I’m ninety-two and it’s time. They’ve taken my craypot licences off me. But, as Morag says, not tonight. Now…there’s a couple of them camp stretcher things in the shed and there’s a heap of bedding and it’s not a cold night. Morag, you slide into bed with the little fella. He’ll be real glad to see you when he wakes-that wave was the stuff of nightmares. Me and the mainland doc will settle down here unless you’re needed. You both have your radios on?’
‘We do.’ Morag was struggling to think, though in truth she couldn’t. Her mind was so addled she was past thinking. The idea of sliding into bed with Robbie and holding him close was overwhelming.
