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‘Do you think she’ll turn back towards us?’ Alex asked.
Mike shrugged. ‘Who knows? Meteorology think it’ll keep heading out and fizzle. But you know women.’ He dug Alex in the ribs. ‘Pretty hard to predict.’
Alex laughed.Wasn’t that the truth? A classic example was standing right next to him.
‘Dare you to say that when Theresa is here.’
Mike hooted. ‘Do I look stupid?’
Isobella ignored them. ‘So everything’s run on solar power?’
Mike nodded. ‘We have a back-up generator, but we don’t carry much fuel so we try only to use that in an emergency. We get enough sunshine to power the lab twenty-four-seven, and we try to conserve energy everywhere else.’
They wandered outside, and Mike gestured them over to the outdoor cooking area. ‘We cook and eat here mostly,’ he said. It was an open three-sided structure, with a cement slab floor, a thatched roof and a large table grounded into concrete.
A fancy gas barbecue that would have been at home in the gardens of Buckingham Palace dominated the back wall, along with a large camp fridge. A pantry of dry food supplies and cooking equipment completed the space.
‘We take it in turns to cook. It’s mine tonight,’ Mike said.
‘Do you get much fresh food, or is it mainly tinned and prepackaged?’ Isobella asked.
‘We get our supplies from Temora once a fortnight. Kate brought back our latest when she went to pick up you guys. So the first week or so we have more fresh food, and we always have plenty of fresh fish. Theresa’s throwing a line in while she’s out today, so hopefully she’ll catch a couple of nice reef fish for tonight.’
Mike showed them a locked storage shed next. It was set slightly apart from the rest of the buildings and was about the size of two garden sheds, again securely cemented into the concrete slab.
‘We keep all kinds of supplies in here. Gas bottles, torches, batteries, spare motor parts for the generator, fuel, all kind of bits and pieces to perform running repairs.’
‘Looks like you have to be a jack-of-all-trades,’ Isobella murmured.
‘It helps.’ Mike grinned. ‘The shed, as with the rest of the buildings, is cyclone-rated. But I guess you don’t really know until it’s weathered one.’
‘Let’s hope Mary doesn’t put that rating to the test in the next few days,’ Alex interjected.
Isobella couldn’t help but agree. ‘What about all the lab supplies? Are they kept in here too?’
Mike shook his head, bending to place a fractious Sam on the sandy ground. ‘The lab stuff’s too expensive to risk out here. There’s a purpose-built room at the back of the lab where all the supplies are stored.’
A little hand touched her leg, and Isobella almost jumped. She looked down to find Sam looking up at her, grinning. He had obviously been attracted to the large yellow flowers on her sarong. Her heart contracted at his easy smile. She reached down and tentatively touched his downy hair.
‘Come on, Sam, let’s show them the genny.’
Sam took his father’s hand, and they followed Mike around the back of the shed to where the generator sat. ‘It’s here in case we need emergency power for some reason—if the solar goes down. It’s wired in to support the essential areas of the lab—the fridges and computers mainly. I’ve only ever had to use it once, but I fire it up every week and do a maintenance check on it.’
‘Isn’t it noisy?’ Isobella asked.
Mike shook his head. ‘It has a silencer installed. It’d scare the feathers off the birds otherwise. Piccolo’s bird population is protected.’
The tour over, Mike and Alex started talking about funding and Isobella left them to it. She went back to the bunkroom and riffled through her bag for the notebook she’d stashed in it. It proved elusive, so she emptied the contents over the bottom bunk, ignoring the dress she’d resolutely snubbed the last few days. Finally she located the spiral book and grabbed her laptop. If she must be stuck on paradise with the twin distractions of a gorgeous Greek and an adorable toddler—two things she wouldn’t ever have—then she was going to need to completely absorb herself in work.
Alex passed her on her way out. ‘Hey, wait for me. I’ll just be a minute,’ he said.
Alex entered the bunkroom, grabbing his digital underwater camera and a towel. He looked at the mess strewn over the bed beside his bag, surprised that the neat, methodical Isobella had left her belongings in such disarray. She must have been in a hurry.
