Page 6 of Reckless

“Do you have family?” she asked.

“I have parents who live in Maitland, and three sisters and their husbands spread across the country. Two nephews and five nieces, all of whom I don’t see as often as I’d like.” I hesitated. “And I was married, but he passed away last year in a traffic accident.”

Two big nuggets of truth there, and I was dreading her reaction to both of them.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said.

“Thank you.” I fought the irrational urge to tell her it wasn’t so bad, that I wasn’t heartbroken because our marriage had died long before Neal had—and then I remembered how moments ago I’d told myself I’d come to terms with his death. I was kidding myself about that if there was some part of me that still wanted to say those words. I didn’t even know what their purpose was. A reason for not looking like more of a wreck? A disclaimer that I wasn’t looking for awkward expressions of sympathy? An excuse for having retained the ability to smile?

“It’s not a problem, in case you’re wondering,” Anna said later as I walked her home—definitely out of my job description as her GP, but since Dauntless Island had no street names or house numbers and I’d promised home visits, I needed to know where she lived.

The twins ran ahead of us, two energetic little kids with golden hair a shade darker than Anna’s. Harriet was the bossy one, tugging her brother Jemmy by the hand if he slowed down, and pointing out things for him to pay attention to: a crack in the dirt, a weed, an interesting rock. Jemmy was content to be directed.

“What’s not a problem?” I asked, luxuriating in the sensation of the sun on my shoulders.

Anna pulled her cardigan more tightly around herself. “That you had a husband.”

“Ah.”

She gestured to the row of sandstone cottages we were strolling past. “People see the way we live, and they assume we’re backwards about a lot of things.”

“Just because your houses are a few hundred years old, that doesn’t mean your attitudes are?”

“Exactly.” Her mouth quirked. “We’ll judge you for complaining you can’t get cold brew coffee anywhere on the island, but we won’t judge you for being who you are.”

We rounded the corner into another unpaved street. This one ran behind the houses that lined the harbour wall. Lines of washing were pinned up in yards, clothes flapping in the wind. I glimpsed the ocean between the cottages. A short-haired dog, its tail swinging lazily, greeted the twins on its way down the street. A seagull strutted along someone’s front path. Everything on Dauntless moved at a pace dictated by the sunlight and the tides. I liked it—I took deeper breaths here than I had in Melbourne—even though a part of me, that part fuelled by caffeine and adrenaline and chaos, wondered how long it would take before I got bored. Because I’d loved the pace of my old job, my old life, every bit as much as I’d hated it. Maybe I was just one of those people who was impossible to please.

I saw Anna and the twins to their house and promised to stop by tomorrow for a chat. Then I took the long way back to my place—although given the village was so small, it wasn’t much of a detour. I hadn’t seen a lot of the island yet, content to familiarise myself with just the village at first. Was that another symptom of my fear of being bored? What if I dived into exploring Dauntless too quickly and ran out of things to discover? Would I settle here and be content, or would I start to get antsy once the newness had worn off? Thirty-four years old, and I didn’t know what sort of person I was if I wasn’t busy and exhausted. I didn’t know what it was like to have just my own thoughts for company.

The dog wandered up to me for a pat, and I exhaled slowly as I ran my hand down his flank and he beamed at me.

I guess I’m going to find out.

Chapter 3

ROBBIE

On Saturday night at the old church, I saw Dr. Jones again. He looked good in his khaki pants and a dark green sweater. He seemed tired still, with shadows under his eyes like bruises, but he was smiling. He had stubble on his face, like he hadn’t bothered to shave today. It was a shade darker than his hair, apart from a few patches where grey was coming through. Made me wonder what he’d look like with a beard, all thin and narrow and distinguished. The kind of man you listened to, not because he was loud, but because he wasn’t. Because the softness of his tone made you lean closer to listen, and the quiet authority kept you there.

Dr. Jones was standing with Red Joe and Eddie, and between the three of them it looked like Eddie was doing all the talking. I wasn’t going to go over there, but Eddie saw me and beckoned, and said, “And this is Robbie Finch. If you need milk, he’s your guy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dr. Jones said, and held out his hand. “Alastair.”

I shook his hand, relieved. I didn’t know what I’d thought would happen, what he might say. “Oh, we’ve already met, when I shoved a swab up his dick and told him he had gonorrhoea.” Of course he didn’t say anything like that, but that didn’t stop my face from burning. Dr. Jones—Alastair—wasn’t the first guy who’d had my dick in his hands, but usually it led to a happier ending.

I put my hands in my pockets and stared at my feet.

Around us, the old church was full of laughter and music. People worked hard on Dauntless, and Saturday nights were a chance for everyone to get together and blow off steam. Seemed like that was enough for most people—singing and drinking and dancing—but it didn’t do anything to loosen the tightness in my shoulders or the ever-present coil of tension in my gut. Everyone else could sing and dance out their worries like they were characters in some cheerful musical, the sort my mum had liked to watch, but me? Turned out I needed someone to beat them out of me.

I listened to Eddie talking about Dauntless, telling Dr. Jones all the places he should check out. Eddie had only been on the island for a little over a year, and he talked about it like a tourist—oohing and aahing over the views like he’d only just seen them for the first time. Red Joe, an arm around Eddie’s waist, sipped his moonshine and nodded.

“Remote medicine comes with its own challenges,” Dr. Jones said in response to something Eddie asked. “My background is in emergency and trauma medicine, which is quite different. On one hand, I saw more critical cases in a week than I hope I’ll ever see here, but the upside of working in a big hospital is that you never have to wait too long to get tests or imaging done, or to get people into surgery. I’m looking forward to the challenge though. I honestly don’t know how you’ve managed so long without a doctor.”

“We had to,” Red Joe said. “We didn’t have any other option.”

If that didn’t sum Dauntless up, I didn’t know what did.

I murmured something and slipped away, putting some space between me and Dr. Jones. I could feel his gaze on me—told myself it was my imagination until I looked back and our eyes met. A jolt of hot embarrassment went through me, and I wasn’t sure why. I ducked my head and stepped behind Big Johnny Barnes, making my way to the side door that led into the old graveyard. Once the cool night air hit me, I walked through the graveyard and out onto the street, heading for the statue of Josiah Nesmith.