Read Online Her Master's Voice by Jacqueline George - Free Book Online

quickly. A few meters away, someone was in trouble. He could see a black head struggling in white water. He rolled off the board and swam into the turmoil. With his face under the water he could the man’s legs kicking frantically. He came up to the man and made a grab for his hair. A flailing arm struck him and knocked his mask down around his neck. He used the man’s weight to push himself down to safety underwater. Hands gripped his neck and shoulder and he pushed himself down further until they released him. Shooting back to the surface, he grabbed a big breath and seized a reaching arm. Kicking hard, he pulled the man in the direction of the board. At last some sanity penetrated the panic and the man allowed himself to be pulled. It was only seconds to the board.
    The rescued man threw himself in one movement onto the board. “Shark!” he spluttered. “There was a shark.”
    Tim hurried to replace his mask and dipped below the board. Looking around, the reef no longer seemed kind and friendly. The shadows at his vision’s limit looked frightening. He could feel his heart beating. As he looked around, he slowly became aware that nothing had changed. The fish were still going about their business. Directly below him a large green parrot fish browsed unconcernedly. Flat silver fish played in the sun over a sand patch, fluttering in a swirl like dry leaves caught by the wind. He surfaced again.
    The man on the board looked tense and frightened. “It was there,” he insisted.
    Tim pushed his snorkel aside. “What did it look like?”
    “Grey, with black bits on its tail. Be careful!”
    “How big was it?”
    “Big. Like me, or more. I thought it would attack. I lost my mask.”
    He smiled inwardly. A black-tip had probably surprised the man, and his mask had magnified the fish. “Well, it’s gone now. Let’s go and look for your mask.” He pulled the board over to where the man had been struggling. His yellow mask and snorkel lay three metres down and it took only a moment to retrieve them.
    “Here, put this back on and watch. I’ll push us in. It’s time for breakfast anyway.” Together they watched with the sun on their backs as the board left the coral and crossed white sand to the beach. He smiled at the man. “That must have been quite a fright. You’re still shaking.”
    “My God yes! It was horrible, but you weren’t worried.”
    “Well, I expect it was just a black-tip, and a lot smaller than you thought. Do you snorkel much?”
    “No, I never did it much and then I went to England for school when I was eight. Too cold there.”
    Tim was surprised. The man was clearly Malay and, wearing only loose black shorts, he looked just like any other beach user or fisherman, but if he had attended school in England, he must come from a wealthy background.
    “Ah. I thought your English sounded very clear.”
    The man drew himself up and smiled. “I’m sorry, let me introduce myself. Alistair,” and he held out his hand.
    “Tim. Come on, take the paddle and let’s go for breakfast.”
    In the restaurant Alistair ordered bacon, eggs and fried rice. Surprised at the bacon, Tim joined him.
    Alistair sipped at his coffee. “Oh, that’s good. I love breakfast after a swim.”
    “I love breakfast in a place like this.” The sun come up fully now and gentle ripples sparkled beyond the beach.
    Their food came and they ate in silence. The Indonesian twins tapped across the restaurant floor towards them. “Selemat pagi!” they called and went to sit at a neighbouring table. Two Malay men joined them, and Tim started to recognise Alistair as the man at the centre of the group in the restaurant the day before.
    “Do you know those girls?” he asked.
    “They work for me. Nice, aren’t they?”
    “Beautiful! I like Indonesian girls. I work out of Balikpapan.”
    “You have a beautiful blonde wife and you are looking at little brown Indonesian girls?” Alistair teased him.
    “Well, they’re