Tristan eyed her. “I’m not so sure of that,” he said. “You’ve given me the impression that you’ve got more than your share of pluck and determination.” With a final smile, Tristan turned back to his plane.

Soon the engines were roaring again and the props were sending a torrent of dust into the air. With a final wave, Tristan released his brake and the KingAir leaped forward, soaring off into the searing sun.

13
April 10, 1990
7:15 A.M.

“Time to get up!” a voice called, stirring Marissa from what felt like a drugged sleep. “The Williams’ Oriental tour is about to begin and it starts with a stockman-style breakfast.”

Marissa’s eyes blinked open. Tristan was at the window, pulling back the curtain. Weak early morning sunlight streamed into the room.

“Let’s go!” Tristan said. He came over to the bed and gave the covers a tug. Marissa grabbed them in panic. Tristan laughed, then spun on his heels. “I’ll expect you in half an hour in the morning room,” he said before pulling the door closed behind him.

Marissa glanced at the room. It was the guest room in Tristan’s small house on the outskirts of Charleville. The room was a dormered space, quaintly decorated with a flower print wallpaper. The bed was wrought-iron with an eyelet comforter.

They’d moved swiftly once Tristan told Marissa he would accompany her to Hong Kong. They’d gotten back to Charleville before dark after an uneventful flight. From the air Marissa began to realize just how vast and arid a country she was in. She had once read that Australia was the oldest continent on earth. From above, it looked it.

She had spent the night at Tristan’s house only after a mild argument. At first she’d been reluctant, but Tristan had been insistent.

“If you can’t trust me to spend the night in my guest room, then how are you going to trust me in Hongkers?”

Marissa had relented in the end.

The evening had passed quickly. Tristan spent most of the time making arrangements to go on holiday. He called his colleague, Bob Marlowe, to arrange for him to cover Tristan’s professional responsibilities.

Marissa had slept better than she had on the two previous nights.

Reluctantly, she slipped her legs from under the blanket and got out of bed.

After a hearty breakfast of porridge, eggs, and sausage, Tristan made a few more final arrangements, including a visit to his bank. Then together they went out to the Charleville airport and boarded a Flight West commuter to Brisbane.

In Brisbane they transferred airports to catch the 11:15 Qantas flight to Hong Kong. Before going through passport control, Marissa took Tristan aside to tell him that the police inspector had asked her to stay on Hamilton Island.

“What if they detain me?” she asked. “What if they arrest me?”