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“Dessert first,” Mack says, as the waiters bring it around, and we all blow out a breath, but it’s amazing how you find the space to squeeze a bit more in when it’s so delicious, and it’s not long before the baked spiced plums with Chantilly cream or sticky toffee puddings with steaming vanilla bean custard and thick clotted cream have all disappeared.
By now it’s eight p.m., and the sun has set. Huxley advises everyone that we’re going outside for a sky tour, and so we should all ‘rug up’—Kiwi for wrap up warm. We break for ten minutes while we return to our villas and pull on jackets, boots, hats, scarves, and gloves, then return to the stargazing area in front of the restaurant. We take our seats, and they dim the restaurant lights. They have two magnificent telescopes set up that they promise we’ll be able to look through after our talk.
Staff members from The Jewel Box hand out blankets and heated wheat packs, and continue to supply us with mulled wine as we listen to one of the experts from Mount John Observatory give us an introduction to what we can see in the sky tonight. The skies are absolutely breathtaking. The Milky Way is at its brightest at this time of the year, and there’s only a sliver of moon, which is better for stargazing. The guide points out Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, and constellations including Scorpius, Libra, Sagittarius, and the Southern Cross, explaining that one of the telescopes is set up to show us the Jewel Box star cluster from which the resort gets its name.
He tells us that we might get to see the Aurora Australis—the Southern Lights—if we’re really lucky, and if we’re still up when the skies are darker. I’m excited to see them as I’ve only watched them online, and the conditions are perfect, so there’s a good chance.
It’s too cold to stay out long, but we all get to look through the telescopes at the Jewel Box and the Eta Carinae Nebula before we head back inside.
At this point, Elizabeth calls the girls to go with her to another room for the wine- and chocolate-tasting session. I give Heidi a hug, and she smiles before heading off with the others.
Despite the fact that she’s been laughing and joking, she’s been a bit quieter since we came here. I wonder whether it’s starting to play on her mind that it won’t be long before her vacation is up. No doubt she’s concerned about what’s going to happen between us. Well, hopefully I’ll be able to reassure her about that very soon.
Huxley takes us through the restaurant to a separate function room. Here there’s a roaring log fire, and the fifteen or so guys present take a seat at the chairs and tables where our next guide is preparing a presentation on New Zealand whisky.
Huxley’s gaze drifts away for a moment, while the conversation continues around him.
“Thinking about your dad?” I ask quietly, knowing that his father is the one who introduced him to malt whisky.
He looks back at me, one corner of his lips quirking up. “Yeah.”
“Do you regret not asking him to come?”
“No,” he says firmly. “I just regret that he’s such a fucking bastard.”
“Fair enough.”
He blows out a breath. “I’m not going to think about him tonight.” And he turns his attention to the guide as he begins to talk.
The presentation ends up taking over an hour, with much laughter as we sample all the whiskies, losing the plot about halfway through when everything starts to blur. Even though we insist we’re full, the hosts bring out some bowls of potato wedges with chili sauce and sour cream, and they all disappear over the course of the evening.
When we’re finally done, we drift out to the hot pools, change into our swim shorts, and lower ourselves into the steaming water. More hot toddies are brought out, and we sip them as we float on our backs, looking up at the stars. The horizon to the south flickers with a pinky yellow light, a sign that the Southern Lights are going to be bright later tonight.
We talk for a while, pointing out different constellations to each other. Gradually, some of the guys go back to their villas, and others congregate in small groups to chat. Eventually, I end up in an area of the pool with Mack, Huxley, and Saxon. And on the spur of the moment, and probably connected to the alcohol I’ve consumed, my plan spills out of me.
“Guys,” I say, “can I talk to you about something?”
“Yeah,” Huxley says. “Can’t guarantee I’ll remember it in the morning, though.”
“You’ve got a point, and it really deserves a more formal setting, and I apologize for that. I hope you don’t think I’m playing it down, because I’m not. I was going to call a meeting when we got back. But I felt a bit less nervous after a few whiskies, so I thought I’d seize the bull by the—”
“Bollocks?” Mack suggests. “Spit it out, mate. What’s going on?”
I look up at Sirius, the brightest star in the southern hemisphere, a mighty diamond in the night. “I’m planning to move to England.”
After about ten seconds of silence, I look back at the others, who all seem to have sobered up.
Huxley looks surprised. Mack is thoughtful. Saxon is smiling.
“Heidi?” he queries.
I give a small shrug. “Ninety percent Heidi, yeah.”
“You’d move to the UK for her?” Huxley asks.
“Yes. After what happened with your father, I don’t want to ask her to move here.”
“You wouldn’t have to live in Auckland.”
