David and Emma both waited for elaboration that never came. Finally, David offered a nudge.
“It doesn’t seem like most people adjust well when they come to the island.”
“It’s not so bad here, if you keep busy.”
“I notice you don’t partake in your own product. Is that part of keeping busy?”
“I’m not going to sit in the back room and drink by myself, if that’s what you mean. And I don’t have anyone else to drink with these days, so why bother?”
“You grew up here, right?”
Emma didn’t need to see David’s eyes to know they were warm. She could see it reflected in the way Jessie’s hands slowed their usual fidgeting, then came to rest on the bar.
“Yeah. Born and raised. My parents had a fishing boat, years ago now.”
“Then you must have friends on the island. I’ve met one or two people who weren’t entirely impenetrable. I could introduce you.”
She ignored his attempt at humor. Jessie in conversation was a roulette wheel. She came to rest on a topic and there was no arguing. “Sarah used to be my friend.”
“I haven’t seen her around.”
“Yeah, but that’s now. When we were kids, we couldn’t be separated. She’s a good sort. Warmhearted as a collie.”
“Then what happened to her?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me guess. A new boyfriend?”
“No. It’s not that. Last year she made me a batch of lamingtons for my birthday.”
“That bitch!”
“It’s not like that. I don’t like lamingtons. I never have. So I’m standing there in my front room, trying my best to eat the cake out of the middle without getting any coconut in my mouth, and be stealthy about it. And it wasn’t that I was afraid to look unappreciative.”
“You didn’t want her to make a fuss. She comes over, says oh no, how could I forget you hate coconut, then you have to act like you don’t really hate it that much, so she doesn’t look like a terrible friend.”
“Exactly. She doesn’t remember the time I nearly chundered when I ate chocolates that had coconut inside. People know we used to be close. If you ask anyone they’ll say ‘of course you two are mates, I see you together all the time.’ But I don’t know her anymore.”
“I know what it’s like to play that game. Everyone I know likes to tell me about myself. And I wonder, who is this person that they believe they’re spending time with? Why would they do that with someone they don’t know? And who am I to tell them they’re wrong?”
They were silent again, each one looking down at the bar. Emma was about to turn and creep back to bed when Jessie started again, quieter this time.
“It's getting cooler at night. Soon it will be winter, and we won't be able to go out much in the small boats. Last year it started to turn on Mothering Sunday and didn't warm up until September. This year it's still alright. Last year was bad, though.
“There's always something goes wrong once it turns. Last year there was a freeze that killed some sheep. Mind you, last year was worse than this year. But last year wasn't as bad as a few years back, when the ground turned bitter and we couldn't plant potatoes in the spring. They had to bring spuds in from New Zealand.
“Before that there was one year when it didn't start out too bad, like now. But something wasn't right. Could have been the gloom and the grey affecting people. They would get lost. Just walking back from a paddock or the cannery, not even as far as the downs. Someone would find them wandering up and down a ditch somewhere, late for supper.
“It happened to me one evening that year. I was on a hill halfway up the slope, and I came walking back. You can see down to the water easy enough from the hill, but when you start walking it all drops below the rocks and the bushes, and when I got back to a higher bit of land, it didn't look like I was any closer. In fact, the village was off on my left side, when I had been walking straight for it.
“That went on for hours. I think. I don't rightly know how long it was before Darren found me. When I asked where I was, he says I'm clean on the other side of the cannery. That sort of thing happened to a lot of people that winter. Nobody talked about it or mentioned it, except His Excellency. He's English, too. And part French, I think.”
“And what's he like, then?” David gently intervened to stop the wheel at its current position.
“His Excellency? Well. He's very kind, and fair. And a great sense of humor. He used to say 'dinkum' a lot, just to wind us up.”
“Do people not say that here?”
“Are you having a lend? Do I sound Australian to you?”
“No, certainly not.”
At the mention of the Governor General Emma's body stiffened. She checked her clothes to make sure she wasn't wearing them backwards, wiped the line of dried spit from the side of her face, and mustered as much dignity as she could. She announced her presence by walking down the ancient stairs at normal speed.
“Em, you're awake.”
“Where is he?” Emma stared directly into Jessie's eyes. “You talk about him like he's perpetually out for cigarettes. Where is the Governor General?”
“Mrs. Cambourne, Constable, you just missed him is all. Honest.”
“So where is he now?”
“I don't know, Constable. It's the middle of the night. He's probably in bed.”
“What do you think they teach in police academy? The last person in that room is whoever cleaned the carpets. And I've heard every mouse fart that has taken place in this hotel since we got here. Don't tell me there's anyone in that room.”
Jessie gave a pleading glance to David. He looked pained and turned his eyes to the floor. Emma kept up the pressure.
“Tell me, Jessie. Whatever it is, you won't get in trouble.”
“It's nothing
