and miserable. It is nine hundred kilometres to get home, and they are planning to split their journey and stop at Geraldton for the night. With nothing to do, and no enthusiasm for the day, Desi begins to doze.
She wakes to the sound of a door slamming. Connor appears on her side of the car, opening the door, and she is blasted by a surge of hot air. ‘Come on,’ he says.
‘Where are we?’ she asks, as she climbs out.
‘Shell Beach.’
The sun is scorching as they run up the path. At the top of a small incline, the view spreads out before them. To the undiscerning eye, it looks like another dazzling white beach. Desi has to focus to make out the carpet of tiny bivalve shells, packed together as far as the eye can see.
‘Billions of them!’ Connor says, kneeling down to collect a handful and throwing them high into the air. He picks one up and brings it closer to show Desi. ‘Incredible,’ he murmurs, as the shell rests in his palm, an ancient filigreed fan, ‘to think that all these once had life in them.’
They stroll down to the water, and Connor takes off his sandals and wades in. Desi slips off her own shoes and follows him. ‘Pretty awesome, hey?’ he says, his face alight against a backdrop of aquamarine sea.
‘This hurts,’ she laughs, wincing as the hard shells press into her feet. She turns to head back.
‘Wait a minute. I’ve got something for you.’ Connor rummages in his pocket and hands her a small box.
She opens it to find a gleaming white pearl. She takes it out and holds it up. Set above the pearl is a small silver dolphin, leaping over this tiny iridescent globe.
‘Put it in the box, quickly. Don’t drop it or we’ll never find it,’ Connor smiles, looking around him. Then he turns serious. ‘This is a promise, okay? That I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
Her eyes fill with tears. ‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘It’s perfect.’
He puts his arms around her, and Desi forgets the hard shells scratching her feet. She can only feel the cool, flowing water and the warm press of Connor’s body, and hear his steady, beating heart.
Eight hundred kilometres left, as they return to the car and she fastens her necklace, letting it play between her fingers. Then seven, flashing by in a blur of red and brown and green. Passing six with petrol fumes and tepid fries. Checking in to their Geraldton motel at five. At four, Connor’s voice talking about spectrograms and new equipment. By three, checking oil and flight times. Two. A cassette tape playing, and then rewinding. One. Daydreams of dolphins. Connor’s voice again, full and throaty, telling her he loves her.
And then he’s gone.
At Lovelock Bay, everything is the same. The front steps still have one brick missing. The door is still rimmed with peeling red paint. Only Desi has changed.
She has walked the last few kilometres, as they weren’t sure the boat would make it up the track. She hadn’t minded. She had wanted to keep their goodbye private, and she needed the following time to clear her mind. The first hour had passed in a blur of tears, but eventually they had dried, leaving a weary fog of exhaustion.
When she finally arrives at Lovelock Bay, she is sweating and grimy and desperate for a shower. It is early afternoon and the campground is quiet. She pauses at the front door. On the phone, her mother had sounded delighted to hear she was coming home, and had reassured her about her dad. ‘Of course he won’t turn you away,’ she’d said, but Desi still wasn’t certain of her reception.
She decides to knock. But there is no answer.
She turns the handle, and lets herself in. ‘Hello?’ she calls, as she wanders through to the kitchen.
‘Well, well, well, the wanderer returns.’
Rick is sitting on a kitchen chair, his dirty boots up on the table, his ankles crossed, a beer in hand.
Desi is instantly on her guard. ‘Where are Mum and Dad?’
‘Your dad’s gone to get the boy from school. I’ve no idea where Hester is.’
‘Okay, then. I’m going to get a shower.’
She walks quickly away from him, down the hallway and into her bedroom. Everything has been tidied away, and the bed is neatly made up, a fresh pot of flowers on the side table. She sits heavily on the mattress. There’s no way she’s going for a shower yet.
A voice