Page 108 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

“I’m so sorry,” I say as we walk up to the house. “He’s such a monkey.”

She puts him down and grins as he races up to the front door. “He’s gorgeous.”

I open the front door and let him in, and we take off our shoes. “Why don’t you show me around?” she suggests.

So I take her hand, and we wander through the house while I show her my old bedroom and the living room where we used to hang out as kids.

“That’s where Elora and Linc used to read the atlas?” she asks, gesturing to the big wooden desk in front of the bay window.

“Yeah, she’d drape a sheet over it and pretend it was a tent, and he used to crawl under it and pester her to tell him what she was reading.”

“I hope she decides to go with him to Europe,” she says. “I know we’ll miss her, but it would be the adventure of a lifetime, right? Going to Germany and Italy and Spain and England, and taking part in all those excavations? That’s real archaeology, not reading about it in dusty books.” She goes over to the shelves of books, takes one out, and blows the dust off to illustrate her words.

I lean on the bookcase, watching her. “I know what you mean, but someone has to do all the research, the conservation, and the cataloging. Even Indiana Jones had a day job being a lecturer.”

“That’s true, I guess.” She slots the book back.

“You’ll finish your master’s this year, won’t you? What do you intend to do after that?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I like working at the museum. But it would have been nice to have had an adventure.” She flashes me a brief smile.

“Come into the kitchen,” I say softly. “I’ll make us a coffee.”

We spend the rest of the day talking, dozing, and taking walks, just recovering really after all the stress and hassle of the past week. As the sun begins to descend in the sky, we have dinner with Mum and Dad up at the pine table, a big crockpot of lamb stew that Mum’s made with crusty homemade bread followed by apple crumble and custard. Then, stuffed full, we all watch a movie together and finish off with a glass of wine before Zoe and I go off to bed.

Mum has put us in my old room, although it’s very different now from what it used to be and is now a guest room with a queen bed. But the shelf still bears my old books—Jaws, Moby Dick, Hemingway’sThe Old Man and the Sea, RobinsonCrusoe, Treasure Island, andTwenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

“Look at all these,” Zoe says, “you really were ocean mad, weren’t you?”

“Yep.” I grab her and fall back onto the bed with her in my arms, and she laughs as we bounce. “We need to keep the noise down,” she whispers, eyes dancing. “Your parents will hear us.”

“Don’t care,” I say, bringing her head down so I can crush her lips to mine. I feel inordinately happy after our conversation today, so glad that she seems to be looking forward at last, rather than back all the time.

Now, if I can just sort myself out, we might actually be getting somewhere.

*

On Sunday, we fly back to Wellington and part ways at the airport, promising to meet up on Monday after the interview.

“Do you think you’ll find out whether you’ve got it while you’re there?” she asks.

“No idea. Probably not.” I kiss her goodbye. “See you soon.”

“Mmm.” She lingers for another kiss, then wrenches herself away with a laugh. “Love you.” She waves and walks off.

I watch her go, surprised at her words. I’m not even sure she realizes she’s said them. My heart swells at the thought that she’s finally accepting she has feelings for me. I want to help her put the difficulties of her past behind her. I want the two of us to have an exciting, fulfilling life together.

If I could just sort out this strange, restless feeling I have inside, everything will be hunky dory.

I spend the rest of the day reading and making notes for the interview the next day. Fraser’s out until late, but when hecomes in we have a chat for a while, and he asks me some questions and helps me prepare some answers.

I go to bed feeling as if I can’t be more ready, but even though I know it would be best to get a good night’s sleep, I end up lying awake for several hours, looking up at the ceiling, thinking, until I eventually crash out.

The next morning, I dress in my best suit and tie and go into the Wellington office of MOANA by eight thirty. Manu’s already there, similarly dressed in a smart suit, and we shake hands with a smile.

“You’re in at nine?” I confirm, although I know that’s the case. I came early so I could see him before he went in.

He nods. “And you’re ten-thirty?”

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