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“That’s not all I’ll be giving you today.”
“Alex!”
I chuckle. “I meant a kiss. You’ve got a dirty mind.”
“I know you well enough to know exactly what you meant, and it wasn’t a kiss.”
“Yeah, all right. Can you blame me, turning up looking practically edible in that outfit.”
“What do you mean? It’s not like I’ve got my boobs out or anything.”
“More’s the pity.”
“Alex!”
I laugh. I have a feeling she’s going to be scolding me a lot over the next few days. “Come on. The heli’s waiting.”
I push the trolley and Missie pushes Finn through the airport to the gate that takes us out to the charter flights, and I lead the way over to where my helicopter is waiting for us on the TLOF—the touchdown and lift-off area. “Sorry, Finn called shotgun,” I tell the two women. “You’ll have to sit with Zelda.”
Roy, who works at the airport, loads Finn’s chair and their cases in the back while I help the boy into the front seat. Zelda’s travel crate is already strapped into one of the back seats, and once Finn is secured, I help Missie and Sandra into a seat on either side of her. I make sure they’re both buckled in and give them a set of headphones, close and secure the doors, then run the last checks with Roy before getting in beside Finn.
He’s already wearing his headphones, and I put mine on and say to them all, “Ready, guys?” I test their microphones and make sure they’re comfortable.
They declare they’re all ready. Talking to Finn and showing him what I’m doing as I do it, I open the throttle to increase the speed of the rotor, pull up on the collective, and depress the left foot pedal to counteract the torque as the pitch of the blades changes. When it gets light on its skids, I grip the cyclic and nudge the helicopter forward, and we rise slowly.
“Wow…” Finn’s eyes are already alight with excitement, and we’re only ten feet off the ground.
His delight grows as I head across Pegasus Bay. Keeping the Southern Alps to our left, I follow the State Highway along the coast, pointing out landmarks as we go. The best bit is when we pass over Kaikoura, the old whaling town. I point out Fyffe House, which is built on a foundation of whalebones, and then, as we pass over the point where the seabed of the Hikurangi Trench rises sharply, we see the flukes of two sperm whales, attracted by the abundance of marine life brought in by the prevailing winds and tides of the area.
We stay over the coast for a bit longer, then as we pass from the Canterbury region into the Marlborough District, I turn inland. We fly over the Awatere River and the northernmost tip of the Kaikoura Ranges, then head across the wide plains of the Marlborough wine region toward the town of Blenheim.
I’ve already spoken to Missie’s uncle, John, and he’s directed me to a paddock behind his house that will be suitable to land. Sure enough, as I close on the coordinates, I can see the H he’s sprayed on the grass, and I bring the helicopter down on top of it.
They’re waiting for us, and after I’ve switched the vehicle off and the blades have stopped, John and Pippa come up to greet us. I jump down and shake hands with them, and they help Missie and Sandra out while I go around to get Finn. He wants to show them how he can walk with his crutches, so I get them for him and make sure he’s steady, then walk beside him, carrying Zelda in her crate, while John and the others bring in their luggage.
“Have you got time to stay for a coffee?” Pippa asks.
“Of course,” I say, knowing it’s the least I can do after they’ve agreed to look after Zelda for a few days.
Missie slides her hand into mine. “Are you sure?” she asks. “I know you’ve got things to organize.”
“There’s no rush, and I’d love to see the house, it looks gorgeous.”
Pippa flushes. “It is nice. I’ll show you around if you like.”
Missie’s lips curve up, and she squeezes my hand, but she doesn’t say anything.
As we walk the short distance to the house, John explains how the terroir—the warm, relatively dry summers and cool crisp winters, and the fertile soil—are so good to the Sauvignon Blanc grapes growing in the vineyards to the west of the house. “Our cellar is one of the best in the region,” he says proudly. “It’s a shame you’re flying out or you could have sampled some of our vintages.”
“We’ll give you a couple of bottles to take with you,” Pippa states. Again, Missie squeezes my hand. I think she takes their comments as a gesture of approval.
We pass through the gate into the gardens of the house, and three dogs run up to us—a Dalmatian, a Boxer, and a German Shepherd.
“They’re all rescue dogs,” John says as Finn bends to fuss them up.
I take Zelda out of her crate and hold her as they come up to sniff her. “She’s had her first season and she’s been spayed,” I explain, letting the dogs explore her and me. “She’s coming along pretty well with her training. Finn’s been working hard on her recall, haven’t you?”
He nods, cheeks flushed with the excitement of the day. “She mostly comes when she’s called. She’s a good girl.”
