Page 87 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

“No, it was found just after dawn by the coastguard. Fuck me, we thought you were dead.”

“We swam to shore and spent the night in the cabin.”

“We were all just about to leave to search the islands.”

“Who’s we?”

“The BOI office. There’s about twenty of us here at the marina and loads of other people who wanted to help. They’re okay,” he yells, presumably to the crowd, and then I hear a huge cheer, which makes me smile.

“Joel,” he says, coming back to the phone, “I called Fraser as soon as the coastguard let us know. He was going to call your parents and Zoe’s parents, then fly up to help look for you.”

“Fuck, right, I’d better ring them all.”

“I’m sorry, I thought they should know.”

“It’s fine, I appreciate you doing that. Can you send someone to pick us up? We’re on the southwest end of the island.”

“There’s a jetty there if you go past the trees. I’ll bring the other boat and come out and meet you there.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Joel… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I push a stone with my shoe. “Yeah, me too.”

“If I’ve been overly competitive and pigheaded about the awards and the promotion, I’m really sorry.”

I smile. “No more than I have. It’s all good.”

“All right. I love you, bro, you know that.”

We’ve been competitive ever since we met, both too ambitious to admit we actually quite like and admire each other. Why is it that it takes a disaster like this to force men to admit their feelings? “Me too,” I whisper, a lump appearing in my throat. I clear it and joke, “You want to braid my hair now?”

He laughs. “Yeah, okay. See you shortly.” He ends the call.

I study the phone for a moment, then glance over at Zoe. She’s deep in conversation, facing away from me. Leaving her to it, I dial Fraser’s number. Once again, it only rings twice and then he answers.

“Joel?” he demands, sounding astounded.

“It’s me. Zoe and I are okay.”

“Holy shit…” I imagine him running his hand through his floppy hair. “Oh my God… Manu said they found your boat…”

“Yeah, we had to abandon it. Look, I’m going to call Mum and Dad and add them to the call, okay?”

“Yes, of course.”

I do it quickly, merging the calls so we’re all talking together. Of course then it becomes a complicated conversation with everyone talking at once, but eventually I get them to calm down, and I explain what happened.

“We’re all right,” I finish, “just a few bumps and bruises. Manu’s going to pick us up shortly.”

“Oh Joel.” Mum starts crying.

“Hey, come on,” Dad says, and I picture him with his arm around her, giving her a squeeze. “I told you he’d be okay, didn’t I? That God would look after him?”

I look across the island to the view of the Pacific stretching away from me. In the distance, I see an orca’s tail lift gracefully out of the water before disappearing beneath the surface. Dad would never admit that I had a hand in my own survival. God always gets the credit.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Mum says softly through sniffs. “These last couple of hours have been horrendous. We were so worried.”

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