Kathleen was not one of society’s great party-givers. In fact, it would be fair to say that, despite her trade, she was one of the least outgoing people I knew, happier alone in her kitchen or out on her boat than making small-talk with guests or visitors. It was one of the reasons she and I understood each other so well. So, it was a bit of a surprise when, two days after Hannah and I had talked, she announced that when Nino Gaines came out of hospital she was going to throw a celebration. It would, she said, take place outside, so that he could smell the fresh air, see the sea and catch up with all his friends.
‘Lance, you’ve no need to be catching flies. It’s about time we had something to celebrate in this sorry little hole,’ she said, as the whalechasers were stunned momentarily into silence at the bleached tables.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘if we can wheel him out now, they won’t be dropping in on him at home bothering him at all hours for the next few weeks. Nothing to make a fellow feel crook like a load of do-gooders on his doorstep.’
Three days later, on an afternoon warm enough to hint of the summer to come, we were sitting out under carefully prepared canopies when Kathleen’s car pulled up in front of the hotel and a back door opened. After a few moments Frank helped his father out.
‘Welcome home!’ we all shouted, and Hannah ran down the path to hug him. He was the closest she’d ever had to a grandfather.
He struggled a bit to straighten himself. He had lost weight – his shirt collar gaped round his neck – and he was frail, a little unsteady on his stick. He held on to the open car door with one hand, squinting at us from under his hat. ‘This sorry parade of humanity the best you could get to welcome me home, Kate? Ah, take me back to the hospital.’ He made as if to duck into the car again, and I couldn’t help but smile.
‘Ungrateful old sod,’ she said, hauling out his bag.
‘You’re meant to indulge me,’ he said. ‘I could keel over any minute.’
‘I’ll make sure you do if you keep milking this,’ she said, and slammed her car door.
‘You get to sit near me, Mr Gaines,’ said Hannah, holding his free hand as he made his way slowly up the path. ‘It’s a special chair.’
‘Hasn’t got a bedpan in the bottom, has it?’ he said, and Hannah giggled.
‘I meant it’s got all the cushions.’
‘Ah, that’s all right then,’ he said.
He winked at me and I stepped forward to hug him. ‘We’re glad to have you home, Nino,’ I said.
‘Well, now, Liza, someone has to keep your aunt on her toes, right? Can’t have her going to seed.’
He was trying a little too hard, but I understood why. A man like Nino Gaines would find it hard to be treated as an invalid.
It was a glorious afternoon. The crews had taken time off and, by tacit agreement, no one discussed the development, or what might lie ahead. We chatted about the weather, the footie results, the awfulness of hospital food and the southern right someone had seen down past Elinor Island. We drank and watched Hannah, Lara and Milly tear up and down the sand, Lance and Yoshi dance to some of Hannah’s music, and various fishermen, neighbours and distant relations of Nino stopped by to share a few beers. Mike sat beside me and, periodically, I felt his hand reach for mine under the table. Its gentleness and strength made my mind wander to places it shouldn’t have gone at three thirty in the afternoon during a family party.
Look at me, I mused, when that thought occurred, and gazed surreptitiously at the man who had landed in my life and now sat beside me. Look at Hannah, Kathleen and Nino Gaines, at the whale crews, who had, over the years, given me more friendship and support than many people’s blood relatives would. I had a family. Whatever happened, even though there would always be someone missing at the heart of it, I had a family. And that thought filled me with sudden happiness. Mike might have caught it, because he raised an eyebrow, as if in silent question. I smiled, and he lifted my hand to kiss my fingers in front of everyone.
Nino Gaines raised his own eyebrows at Kathleen. ‘How long did you say I was out?’ he said.
‘Don’t ask,’ she said, waving a dismissive hand. ‘I can’t keep up with these young people.’
‘Where’s Greg?’ Hannah asked, from the other end of the tables. ‘He said he’d be here by now.’
‘He was being mysterious this morning,’ said Kathleen. ‘I saw him at the fish market. He said he was on a mission.’
‘Yeah? What was her name?’ Nino pulled his hat down over his eyes and rested back in his chair. ‘God, it’s good to be back here, Kate.’
To my surprise, she leant forward and kissed his forehead. ‘Good to have you back, you old fool,’ she said.
Before any of us could say anything, the whine of Greg’s truck could be heard down the road and, as if on cue, he drove slowly up to the front of the hotel and ground to a halt. ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said, climbing out of the cab. He was wearing an ironed shirt and was clean-shaven – rare for Greg – and looked uncommonly pleased with himself. ‘I just thought you should all know – you might want to swing by my lock-up in half an hour. It’s kind of important.’
‘We’re having a party, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ Kathleen placed her hands on her hips. ‘And you were meant to be here two hours ago.’
‘Ah, I’m real sorry, Kathleen, but this is important.’
‘What’s going on, Greg?’ I said. He was trying to stop himself smiling, like a schoolboy keeping a lid on some practical joke.
‘Got something to show you,’ he said to me, ignoring Mike. This was not unusual: since he had guessed we were an item, he had pretended Mike didn’t exist. He gazed at his feet, then at Kathleen. ‘Yosh – you still fixed?’
I glanced at her. She nodded.
‘Good. I got something to show you all. Good to see you back, Mr Gaines. I’ll be glad to crack open a couple of stubbies with you later.’ He tipped his cap and, with a definite swagger – even by Greg’s swaggering standards – headed back to his truck, swung it round in a spray of dirt and made for his lock-up.
‘He been on the amber fluid again?’ Nino stared after him.
Yoshi and Lance were exchanging a glance. They knew something, but it was obvious they weren’t going to let us in on it. ‘You know Greg,’ Kathleen said, shrugging. ‘Never fails to surprise us.’