the Beach Cottage, page 11
“I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions until we speak to her,” Bea said in her most comforting tone. “Let’s wait to hear the facts.”
On her way back to the cottage, Bea stopped by her father’s house to see if Harry and Dani were there. They were, the three of them playing a game of Scrabble together on the deck. Beatrice poked her head through the back door and asked if anyone would like a drink, since she was making one for herself, and all three turned her down, as they had glasses dotted around the table already.
Relieved at not having to serve anyone else for at least a few more minutes, she mixed herself a pitcher of sangria and carried that with an empty glass out to the deck, then sat with a grunt.
“That’s a big drink you have there.” Dad offered her a raised eyebrow.
She sighed. “I’ve had a big day.”
When her glass was full, she gulped a mouthful of sangria, then put her feet up on an empty chair to look out over the cliff to the ocean beyond. The world was right again — the peacefulness of the coastal scene soothed her soul, and the company renewed her strength.
“It’s good to be home,” she murmured.
“Did you have a good day, Mum?” Dani asked.
“It was busy.”
“I’ll come in and help again tomorrow morning, if you like.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
Harry smiled at her. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Would you like to make dinner? Because I don’t think I can stand up for another minute.”
“Happy to — I make a fantastic frozen pizza.”
“Perfect,” she replied.
After she’d rested a while, she got up and went inside to put on some music. A relaxing melody floated through the surround sound speaker system, and she lay on the couch, eyes shut, to let it wash over her. She didn’t know or care who the artist was—she loved to enjoy music that slackened her jaw, loosened her tight muscles and helped ease away the tension of the day.
She felt her father’s presence before he spoke. He settled into his armchair, and the leather creaked.
“How are you coping with it all?”
“It’s fine. I’ll get there. I love the space, and the people are wonderful. I can try out recipes and bake, and other people enjoy it, so there’s a lot of satisfaction in it. I’m tired—that’s all.”
“Understandable. I’m coming over tomorrow to do those jobs around the place you asked me to do.”
“Thanks, Dad. But not if it’s too much for you.”
He waved her off. “No trouble at all. I’m not dead yet.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” she warned him, and he laughed.
“It happens to us all.”
“I’m painfully aware of that. Speaking of which, do you remember when Penny’s grandmother, Mary Brown, was killed?”
His smile faded. “Of course. That was a horrible tragedy. The whole island was shaken by it. Why do you ask?”
“The girls and I are looking into it.”
“Why would you do that?”
She sat up, her eyebrows knitting together. His tone was defensive, and his reaction surprised her. “What do you mean?”
“It’s old news. Let it go.”
“Why does this bother you so much, Dad?”
He shook his head but didn’t respond, instead staring out the back window at the children who were flicking ice-cold water at each other and squealing as Harry chased Dani around the deck.
“I found some old photographs in the wall of my cottage when we were renovating.”
“I remember that,” Dad replied.
“It turns out they were photos of Penny’s beach house…”
“Yes?” he said, as though irritated at how slowly she was speaking.
“Photos of her family and of Rowan’s family — you know, the Clementses?”
He sighed. “I know the Clementses, and I know the beach house. What’s your point?”
“I’m not sure really, only that it got us interested in Penny’s history. Her grandmother is in some of the photos, and Penny told us she was killed. So, we were down at the library looking for more information, and we discovered something strange.”
“Oh?” He leaned forward.
“It seems the murderer was never caught.”
“I knew that.” He relaxed into his chair.
“But we also found Betsy Norton’s name in the article — apparently, she was one of the witnesses for the case. It doesn’t say what she saw, but don’t you think it’s strange that she never said anything to Penny about it?”
He lurched to his feet, his fists clenched. “Just stop it. Let the past stay in the past.”
She stood as well, reaching out to comfort him. “Dad, what’s wrong?”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Your mum was obsessed with the case before her death as well. After everything that happened, I would be happy never to talk about it again for as long as I live. I don’t want you to follow in her footsteps.”
He stormed from the lounge room and out the front door, slamming it behind him. Beatrice stared after him, astonished. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. She understood him connecting it with her own mother’s death, but his words only brought more questions to mind than answers. Her mother had been obsessed with Mary Brown’s murder … but why? What did it have to do with her, or with Bea’s family? And why was Dad so upset that she wanted to talk about it?
Sixteen
The moonlight lit a silver trail along the beach, and stars twinkled in the partially clouded sky overhead. Penny sat on the second step leading up to her porch door and leaned back to study the sky. It was beautiful. A world full of stars, some bright, some dim, like dot art on a black canvas.
She was still damp from her surf earlier, her wetsuit pulled low about her waist, but her stomach growled with hunger. With a sigh of disappointment at having to tear her gaze away from the heavens, she took an outside shower, then went inside to change and make herself some dinner. Before she got started cooking scrambled eggs and pancakes, her favourite breakfast-for-dinner combination, she hesitated with her phone in hand.
A message had come through with a notification that glared bright in the dim hall light. She stared at it a moment, then shouted for joy. The grant had been approved. The refuge would live another day.
With a flick of her finger, she switched on the kitchen light and set about looking for her frying pan, which she found in the dishwasher, then stopped again to stare at her phone. The message said she should complete the appropriate paperwork to have the money transferred to her account. The attachment was twenty pages long.
Her heart sank. Twenty pages of paperwork? She needed the money yesterday, but with her schedule the way it was, she wouldn’t have time to fill out the forms until Thursday night. That was five days away. And she was exhausted after a full week of work, plus gardening around the house and cleaning most of the day — Saturday was designated time for domestic duties.
A thought popped into her head — Rowan had told her she could call him when she needed help. He was good at paperwork. As a journalist, he spent his life writing, filling out forms and working on computers. Perhaps she should make the call. She hated to be needy. Hated needing him for anything. But maybe it was time she made herself a little more vulnerable. She didn’t have to be Superwoman and do everything on her own all the time. At least, that’s what her mother always told her whenever she wore herself out trying to manage alone.
“Fine,” she said to herself. “I’ll call him. It’s not a big deal. He offered, he’s a friend … sort of . . . and anyway, I need the help. Otherwise, I’ll be up all night doing this.”
A cat slunk around the corner and into the kitchen. It mewed at her.
“I know, Bart, I’m talking to myself. But I’m not crazy, I promise,” she said to the cat, who rubbed himself against her legs, tail raised high.
She dialled and waited, heart pounding. His voice sent a thrill up her spine she wasn’t expecting.
“My grant was approved, and I have twenty pages of paperwork…”
“Say no more,” he replied. “I’m coming over.”
“I’ll make dinner,” she said.
“Great—I’m starving. I’ll bring the wine.”
By the time Rowan arrived at her house, the eggs were ready and served at the table on sourdough toast. The pancakes were slathered in butter and piled high on a plate, and she’d brewed a batch of steaming hot coffee. Although she wasn’t sure either of them should imbibe caffeine right now since Rowan was always high energy and she was extremely nervous about him coming over. In fact, she’d almost called him back three times to cancel, but had talked herself out of it.
It made no sense for the two of them to spend time together. They didn’t get along, they drove each other crazy, and her brother wouldn’t be happy if he heard about it. No matter how much she convinced herself it was none of his business, she still jumped when she heard the car door slam outside and wondered for a moment if it was Rob home from the mainland early before realising it was Rowan.
With a slow intake of breath to calm herself, she hurried to answer the door and let him in with bright, cheery conversation, completely out of character for her usual quiet, subdued self.
He listened with a slight smile on his face for several seconds before putting a hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eye and saying, “You seem a little wound up. Are you okay?”
She blinked. “Fine. I’m fine. Would you like coffee?”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink caffeine at this time of night.” He sat at the table across from her. “Are you worried about the paperwork? Or is there something else?”
That was when she sat at the table, held Bart as he purred on her lap, and told Rowan about the murder investigation she and her friends were undertaking and how it’d brought up issues she hadn’t thought about in years. How she was concerned for a little girl who’d shown up one day at the refuge and wormed her way into Penny’s heart. There were so many things on her mind that had her nerves all twisted up.
But the one thing she didn’t tell him was that he’d overturned her nice, happy little existence, where everything made sense, and elicited feelings she thought were long behind her.
Finally, she stopped and held her breath, waiting for his response. She’d said too much, revealed too big a piece of herself to him. Regret swamped her.
“You’re carrying a lot of things around on your shoulders. I’m not surprised you’re anxious. Let’s tackle one thing at a time, starting with the paperwork, and go from there.” He smiled at her, and her shoulders lowered. His face was open and caring, his posture relaxed. He didn’t judge her. Wasn’t going to make a smart quip like he usually did. She’d been waiting for the remark that would drive a knife through her heart, but it didn’t come.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
They sat at her computer, side by side, working. As they did, they talked together about the past and the future. His hopes and dreams, her plans and procrastination. They laughed over the mistakes he’d made or the times she’d fallen on her face. And slowly her heart opened, piece by piece, until she’d forgotten all about guarding it from him or that she’d once seen him as the enemy.
When they completed the final section of the form, she submitted the details, and it was done. It hadn’t been nearly as cumbersome a process as she’d thought it would be. At least, not with Rowan’s help. They’d had fun together, and the time had flown. She couldn’t believe it was almost midnight by the time they finally switched off her computer. But just as she pressed the button, the entire house fell into darkness.
“What on earth?” Rowan’s disembodied voice floated in the air between them.
“Oh, no,” she said.
“Maybe you have a short?”
She sighed. It wasn’t a short. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”
“Well, what is it?”
The admission embarrassed her. “I’ve been holding off on paying my bill. Just until I some money in my account. The refuge is taking everything I have right now, and I thought they’d give me a bit more time.”
He grunted. “Apparently not. You should’ve said something. You can’t go without electricity just so your animals are fed.”
“They need it more than I do.”
“Okay, fair enough. Do you have any candles, or are we going to have to feel our way out of the office? Because I may get a little handsy, and you can’t hold me accountable for that.” He laughed.
Though he couldn’t see it, she rolled her eyes even as a smile drifted across her mouth. “No need to worry. I’ve got you covered.”
“What a shame,” he said. She could imagine him winking.
She opened the desk drawer and pulled out a torch. Then the two of them walked to the kitchen, where she lit some candles and spread them around the house. They ended up on the back deck, seated in chairs side by side with a bottle of wine between them as they listened to the ocean. Around them, candles flickered.
“Can I please give you enough money to get your power back on tomorrow?” he asked quietly.
Relying on anyone else wasn’t something she was used to doing. She’d been supporting herself since she was eighteen. Her parents had given her the beach house and the land for the refuge, but other than that, she’d had to manage on her own. And she liked it that way. She was beholden to no one and owed nothing. It meant she could be in control. No one could tell her what to do or how to live. But she needed his help. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“Of course you will. But there’s no rush.”
“It’s all harder than I thought it would be.” She sighed in the darkness, her throat aching.
He reached out and took her hand in his larger one, enveloping it completely. The warmth of his touch made her want to cry. “Everything always is.”
“How do people manage it?”
“What—life?”
“Life, business, running a charity.”
He looked at her. “You know most people don’t try to run a wildlife refuge on their own, right? It’s virtually impossible, yet you’ve managed to do it for years. Somehow you’ve kept the lights on—” he waved a hand around “—until tonight. That’s actually pretty amazing. I hope you know that.”
She swallowed. “Do you think so?”
“Of course. It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
“Thanks.” She sniffled as tears threatened.
He squeezed her hand but didn’t let go. She wanted him to pull her close, kiss her tears away, tell her everything was going to be okay. But if he did, what would she do then? She wasn’t ready for that level of intimacy. She’d always pushed him away in the past. Would she do it again? She couldn’t trust herself not to. And how would Rob would feel about it?
“You know, this is actually pretty romantic,” he said, grinning at her in the golden swathe of candlelight. “I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.”
Perhaps she should forget about the past and focus on the present. After all, she’d clearly misjudged him for all those years. He wasn’t the person she’d thought he was, or maybe he’d changed. Either way, she was starting to feel things for him she’d been running from her whole life. Nerves twirled and fluttered in her stomach like butterflies at the thought of where this could lead if she let go of control.
Seventeen
The water was clear and the reef was a plethora of colours under the dazzling sunlight that glinted as the waves surged back and forth across it. It was a small reef off the beach beside the headland where her father’s house perched high above them, its peaked roof like a shadow behind the piles of black rocks that scalloped the cliffs.
Beatrice, Dani, Harry and Bradford snorkelled around the rocks and over the reef together while Dad watched from the shore, seated in a folding chair that Bradford had insisted on bringing down the narrow path for him.
Parrotfish followed Beatrice’s flippers as she kicked. She looked back over her shoulder at them as she glided through the water. There were a variety of types of fish hovering above the reef. A clown fish ducked into an anemone as she sailed overhead. A small red coral trout peeped from behind a piece of coral and then ducked back behind it again when it spotted Bea.
She emerged through the surface of the water and spat out her mouthpiece before spitting out salt water with a cough. She pushed her mask up over her forehead and looked around, swimming in place. The others had made their way towards the shore, and Dad was folding up his chair. The sun was high overhead. It was time to go back to the house. The children were headed to Sydney on the noon ferry, and she’d dreaded the farewell for days.
It’d been so nice to have them stay with her on the island. She wished they could stay forever, although she knew it was good for them to build a life for themselves, and university was a big part of that. But she couldn’t help being selfish — she missed them. And now that Aidan had his new daughter and she rarely saw him, she was lonelier than she’d been willing to admit. She still had her friends, and her father and brother of course, but she missed Aidan and her kids.
She knew she could manage on her own, and she was doing rather well at that. But having them with her for two weeks reminded her how much she enjoyed their company. They’d become lovely, kind and thoughtful adults, and she couldn’t be prouder of them.
She put her mask and snorkel back in place and kicked towards the shore. On the beach, the sun baked her back within moments, and she was suddenly very glad that she’d worn a wetsuit. She’d had enough of sunburn to last her a lifetime.
“Ready to go up?” she asked.
Dani nodded.
Harry smiled. “You going to miss us, Mum?”
Bea laced an arm around his waist. “More than you can possibly know. But I’m glad you’re happy in your dorm and with your friends. Please call me if you need anything. I can be in Sydney in no time at all.”
