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was,’ she said briefly.

      ‘So?’

      ‘I was bored to tears,’ she said solemnly.

      ‘That doesn’t—does that make sense in light of what you’ve just told me?’ he queried wryly.

      ‘Probably not.’ She drained her glass. ‘It all rather goes back to my father, who died fairly recently. He was a nuclear physicist, you see, and he could never understand why mechanics was my forte. And when I wanted to get out of the laboratory and actually work among motorbikes and so on—they really fascinate me mechanically—he got very upset. He said it was no job for a girl, which was really strange because he’d always treated me as a son until then.’ She blinked away a tear. ‘So I stayed on, well, with just that one stint teaching—he didn’t mind that—until he died. I do beg your pardon.’ She drew a hanky from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘I’m normally not in the least emotional.’

      Mike Brennan said thoughtfully, ‘Losing your father and your boyfriend can be emotional experiences, I should imagine. But what’s stopping you working with motorbikes now?’

      Sidonie twisted her hanky. ‘Everyone I approached laughed at me.’

      Mike Brennan laughed himself. ‘I wonder why?’ he murmured and poured her another glass of wine.

      Sidonie looked down at herself. ‘I know why,’ she said with gentle melancholy and reflected that if one glass of wine made her feel this sorry for herself she ought not to have any more, but it was oddly comforting to be able to be so honest. ‘There just doesn’t seem to be a role in life for me.’

      ‘At—twenty or so...’ he hazarded, ‘I wouldn’t regard it as a blight on your life yet.’

      ‘Twenty-three,’ Sidonie said drily, ‘and that’s the kind of facile thing people say but I do assure you it’s no help at all.’

      He looked at her thoughtfully, not in least perturbed by her intended slight, apparently, then he said idly, ‘Could I make a less facile suggestion? Don’t wear your hair like that, throw away those clothes—and life might just surprise you, Sidonie Hill.’

      ‘Ah,’ Sidonie responded. ‘No, it wouldn’t. It’s still the same me, you see. Just as you would probably be highly uncomfortable in anything other than shorts and a T-shirt, and with a decent haircut, I wouldn’t be any less me. And if you were implying that men might be tempted to take more of an interest in me were I to do those things you suggested—two points.’ She gestured and reached for her glass. ‘Life might certainly surprise me but would it actually improve? I wonder—’

      He broke in with a half-smile, ‘Why shouldn’t it? Or do you have something against men finding you attractive?’

      ‘Not the right man, no.’ It was her turn to look faintly quizzical. ‘They don’t seem to be too thick on the ground, however. But you know, it’s not so much men—or the lack of them—that bothers me. It’s—this lack of purpose, not being able to find the right job, the right niche. That’s what really bothers me.’

      ‘On the other hand, is that not why you left Melbourne? Because of your failed—relationship?’

      Sidonie frowned. ‘Well, obviously it was one reason. It’s not very pleasant to be thrown over for another woman; I can’t deny that it made a bit of a dent in my self-esteem but I’ve got the feeling it might not have worked anyway.’

      ‘And why is that?’ Mike Brennan queried with a straight face.

      Sidonie chewed her lip. ‘I know it sounds odd and what I really mean is this, I think...’ She paused. ‘We were good friends and perhaps we confused that with being in love. It was certainly all very nice and comfortable but when he fell in love with this other girl it sort of dawned on me that there’d been no real passion in our relationship. No heart-stirring stuff, no feeling breathlessly happy and not wanting to be away from each other for a moment. Which is how he felt about her,’ she said ruefully. ‘And of course I was then led to wonder whether I was capable of inducing that kind of thing in a man. It’s not always a help to be interested in the kind of things I am, from a man’s point of view, I’m beginning to perceive. I think, speaking very generally, of course, men still prefer women to be very feminine.’

      ‘And you don’t think you are?’ Mike Brennan said in a totally deadpan way.

      ‘Not outwardly,’ Sidonie replied, her brow furrowed as she concentrated. ‘Take my choice in clothes for one thing—I’m really happiest in a pair of overalls so I never bother much about them and when I do I never get it right. I have a lot of trouble with my hair, I—’ But she hesitated and stopped, thinking that her other major shortcoming might be better kept a secret until there was no turning back. So she said instead, ‘Do you know what I mean at all?’ and winced when she thought she saw a glint of compassion in his eyes and said hastily, ‘It doesn’t really matter. As I said earlier, it’s not my main cause of concern.’

      He looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment. ‘As a matter of fact I agree with you,’ he said finally. ‘To the extent that the outward manifestations of one’s femininity, or masculinity for that matter, may not always be a true guide.’

      ‘Oh, I’m so relieved to hear you say so!’ Sidonie smiled at him widely and then was struck by an awful thought which caused her to start to colour and add disjointedly, ‘Not...I mean...not in any personal sense, of course! Just that it reflects that you could be a thinking, fairly intelligent sort of person... Oh, dear,’ she wound down unhappily, ‘perhaps I should say no more.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ he agreed but with a wicked little glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. ‘But until you make up your mind on my intelligence or otherwise, may I make a practical suggestion this time? Why don’t you unpack, have a shower and change? You don’t need to be careful of water while we’re in the marina; I’ll fill up again before we go—and I’ll start dinner. The sun has slipped past the yard arm, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

      * * *

      Half an hour later Sidonie emerged from the forward cabin a bit hesitantly. The shower had been wonderful, the cabin, although small, had ample space for her possessions and she’d changed into a pair of white shorts and one of the T-shirts she’d bought. She’d also washed her hair and plaited it. The aromas coming from the galley were delicious, but despite all this she couldn’t help but be struck by the thought that she’d committed herself to sharing a very confined space with a total stranger and she didn’t even know for how long.

      So she was quiet as they ate grilled lamb chops, a potato casserole topped with cheese and tomato, and fresh green beans, followed by a fresh fruit salad and cream. She also declined any more wine and was just gearing herself up to ask some pertinent questions when Mike Brennan pushed away his dessert plate and said idly, ‘I’d guess you’d like to know my plans.’

      ‘Oh. Yes,’ she replied gratefully.

      ‘Know anything about the Whitsunday area?’

      ‘No,’ she confessed. ‘Not a lot. I boned up on cattle and cattle stations et cetera—I’m actually a walking mine of information on different breeds...Simmental, Poll Herefords, Charolais as well as artificial insemination and the like, which was a bit of a waste of time as it’s turned out although they say knowledge can never be useless—but I wasn’t expecting to be out on the water.’

      ‘Well, come and have a look at the map,’ he said, again looking wickedly amused, and a moment later was showing her the main islands in the area. ‘Hayman, Hook, Whitsunday, Haslewood, Hamilton all have protected anchorages, so what I plan is a leisurely cruise around them for a couple of weeks and then I’ll be taking her down to Tin Can Bay, which is to be her home base.’ His finger moved a long way down the map and Sidonie’s eyes widened.

      His own eyes narrowed faintly as he watched her and he said after a moment, ‘That will be something for us to make a mutual decision

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