Page 50 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

“That’s understandable.” He picks up his bag and follows me through the house. “Is she an experienced diver?”

“She’s got her scuba certificate, but she hasn’t been diving for a few years.”

“Good job she was with you, then.”

“I guess.”

“You gave her your octopus?”

“Yeah. Well, no, I gave her my primary and I used the octopus. It made sense at the time.”

He smiles at me. “Good lad.”

I give him a wry look and pause outside her bedroom door. “Her name’s Zoe Moon.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Not yet.”

He gives a short laugh. “Okay.”

I knock on the door. Zoe says, “Come in.” I open it, and we go in.

She’s sitting in bed, fully dressed, her legs drawn up with the covers over them. Her hair is still damp. My hoodie rests over a chair, also a little damp.

“Hello, Zoe,” Brock says easily with the kind of bedside manner we all want from our GPs. “I’m Brock King, and I’m a doctor and a friend of Joel’s. He said you’ve had a bit of a shock. How are you feeling?”

I half-expect Zoe to protest that she doesn’t need a doctor and she feels just fine, but to my surprise her eyes fill with tears. “I’m all right,” she says, but her voice is little more than a squeak. She presses her fingers to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’ve had a shock, that’s all.” Brock sits on the side of the bed. “It’s okay, it’s perfectly normal to react like this.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Joel, how about you make us all a cuppa? Hot, sweet tea is good at a time like this for both of you.”

My eyebrows rise. “I’m okay.”

“You think you are, but you’ve had a shock too, and both of you are as white as a sheet. Go on.”

I nod, give Zoe a last glance, pick up my wet hoodie, then reluctantly leave the room. I’m guessing that part of the reason he asked me to make a drink is because he wants to talk to her alone, and that’s fair enough.

I throw the hoodie in the tumble dryer with our other wet clothes and turn it on. Then I boil the kettle. When it’s done, I pour the hot water over tea bags in three mugs, squeeze out the bags and pour in some milk, then add a teaspoon of sugar to mine and Zoe’s before carrying the mugs back into her room.

I’m relieved to see her laughing at something Brock said, and her cheeks hold a little more color now. I put the mugs onthe bedside table and pass hers to her, and she smiles at me and says, “Thank you.”

“Everything’s good,” Brock says, accepting a mug as I pass it to him. “Her pulse and blood pressure are slightly raised, but that’s to be expected after an emotional shock. Just Panadol or Nurofen for the headache and any other aches and pains. Lots of rest, and sleep if you feel like it. And don’t worry if you feel emotional, numb, or anxious. All those emotions are normal. Just take it easy, okay? You’ve had a very traumatic experience. It’s not every day we come face to face with our own mortality. It’s going to have an effect on you both.”

He looks at me then. “Sit down. I’d like to check your blood pressure.”

“Brock, I’m fine.”

“Do as you’re told, please.”

I flick Zoe a wry look as she chuckles and sit on the end of the bed. Brock puts the Velcro band around my arm and pops his stethoscope back in his ears, then pumps up the band. The three of us sit quietly while he takes the reading. I look at Zoe. Her eyes meet mine over the rim of her mug, but she doesn’t say anything as she sips her tea.

“It’s fine,” Brock says, removing the band. “But you’re fit and used to diving. It doesn’t mean what happened today hasn’t had an effect on you.”

“I don’t feel anxious.”

“You’re used to controlling your stress. Zoe was telling me how you meditate, and how you said that freediving is mainly about mindfulness and staying relaxed.”

“I thought about that when we were at the safety stop,” she says. “When you were touching my hair.” She glances at Brock then, embarrassed.

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