the Beach Cottage, page 6
“Is that Dad?”
Betsy faced the photograph. “Your dad is a photogenic man. And let me tell you, he’s one fine fisherman.”
Bea didn’t know what else to say. How do you know Dad? What kind of relationship do you have? But it seemed rude to pry, so instead she simply said, “Yes, he is.”
“You know, honey, you have the prettiest eyes,” Betsy said suddenly.
“Thank you.”
“They’re just like your mother’s.”
“You knew Mum?”
“Only in passing. She was a lovely lady, beautiful just like you.”
“Dad says I look like her as well.”
“You definitely do. You’re about the age she was…” Betsy’s voice trailed off, and her cheeks flushed pink.
“When she died? Yes, I know. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. Probably partly because of that, but also because I’m back on the island and memories are knocking on my door everywhere I turn.”
Betsy finished up with the order and slammed the ledger shut with a flourish. “Memories have a habit of doing that, I’m afraid. But letting them in can be healing. Sometimes it’s the very thing we need so we can move on.”
“I think you’re right about that.” Bea sighed. “You should come to the party. It’s on the date I gave you. It’s the grand opening for my café, the one attached to Eveleigh’s Books. It’ll be fun, and of course the flowers will be divine. The food should be good too. I’m cooking.”
Betsy’s eyes twinkled. “Thank you. I’d love to.”
Bea waved goodbye. As she walked out of the shop, Betsy called after her, but quietly so that Bea wasn’t sure she’d heard exactly right.
“It was a travesty what happened to your mother. I’m sorry you went through all that, and so unnecessarily.” Then Betsy turned and disappeared through a set of curtains into a room behind the counter.
Bea stood in silence, gaping after her. Mum had taken her own life. It was a tragedy for the entire family, but no one did it to her. What was Betsy talking about? It was as though she knew something Bea didn’t, but there hadn’t been any secrets, nothing hidden. They all knew what happened.
Mum had been unwell for a long time. She’d been anxious and paranoid and finally had taken a permanent step to remove herself from a situation she’d believed to be hopeless. None of them understood it, but the counsellor they’d seen at the time had told them that there was nothing they could’ve done. It was an illness, and there was no explanation that would suffice for them to understand her thinking. And that had been the end of it.
Bea studied the street, the way the sunlight glinted on the roof of the shop opposite, the scent of salt in the air, the sight of seagulls hopping along the pavement looking for scraps of food — it reminded her of hot summers, endless days swimming in the ocean, friendships that sustained her and the pain of losing a mother too young.
Coral Island was a place of joy, strength and peace for her, but it was also the setting for the biggest loss of her life. Another great loss had driven her back to it after she’d spent years avoiding having to face up to her past. But it was time for her to grow up. With one last glance over her shoulder she stepped out into the street, her shoulders squared with determination. Whatever Betsy was hinting at about her mother, she would uncover it — the fear she’d felt as a child at the prospect of discovering unwelcome truths no longer controlled her. She was ready to face it all.
Nine
The afternoon was bathed in golden light. Penny paddled her surfboard away from the shore and dived beneath a wave. The swell was small, as it always was on the island, but she still loved to paddle out on her board and ride whatever she could catch. The water was cool on her skin, and the heat of the day had mellowed. The humidity had lifted, and in its place was a stunning sunset that lit up all the world in a rainbow of warm colours.
She sat on her board and pushed the hair from her face, legs dangling on either side. The water was crystal clear, and she peered down into it to watch a school of small fish darting one way, then the other. A parrotfish swam into view, its iridescent scales glinting blue then green then silver in the shifting light that filtered through the moving ocean waters.
The beach house looked dark above the dunes. It was surrounded by a lush garden that could do with a good day’s worth of weeding, perhaps even a week — she didn’t work as quickly as she used to these days. She much preferred to take her time and stop for a cold drink every now and then. But even though it looked a little unkempt, she loved the house. It reminded her of a happy childhood with parents who loved her. However, Beatrice’s recent discovery of photographs in her cottage walls had thrown Penny into something of a state. Almost as though she was standing on quicksand. The happy childhood memories were shifting, and behind them, an ugly black monster reared its head.
She shuddered as the image sprang to mind for the second time that day. The murder of her grandmother was something she’d never fully processed. She’d been too young to really understand it at the time. But the event had shaped her childhood in ways she was only now beginning to understand.
The way that her stepfather had always been so protective of her mother. Her mother had never let her out of the house after dark. Had startled at every little noise. Penny had developed anxiety as a tween, and it was something she’d struggled with every day of her life since. Years of meditation had helped her manage it to the point where she had it under control — most of the time, anyway. But it’d still moulded her as a person and how she responded to the world around her.
She ran a finger over her lips. They were wet but chapped from so many days swimming in the ocean and not enough care. Much like the rest of her. These days, she’d stopped worrying about how she looked and had thrown herself into spending time in nature and taking care of the native animals on Coral Island. It was enough to keep her busy and was the kind of lifestyle that gave her satisfaction. The problem was, she’d come to realise that part of the reason she lived that way was to escape from the loneliness that’d descended over her like a scratchy wool blanket when her parents moved to the mainland and her last boyfriend left her.
After several long-term relationships that failed to result in a lifelong commitment, she’d found herself in her forties, childless and alone. Given the lack of dating options available on the island, instead of moving elsewhere or taking up a new hobby where she might meet people, she’d basically given up on the idea of finding the one and turned the beach house into a kind of hermitage.
The idea made her smile, and she shook her head. “Not funny,” she whispered to herself even as her smile widened. Her sense of humour had always been a little off-kilter and self-deprecating, and it seemed to have grown worse in recent years. But if she couldn’t laugh at herself, who could she laugh at? And she had to admit, laughing was better than crying.
She rode a wave partway to shore. It didn’t take her far, but the Malibu board was built for ease of surfing, and she stepped back and forth up and down the board to ensure that it took her as far as possible. Then she paddled back to shore and perched on the sand, staring out at the water as the darkness crept across it. Watching the ocean was a kind of meditation, one she practiced often.
She pulled her wetsuit down to her waist. Her yellow string bikini had gotten twisted beneath it, and she reached around behind her back to fix it.
“What are you doing out here in the dark all alone?” Rowan’s voice shocked her, and she almost screamed.
She slapped a hand to her chest and leapt to her feet. “You scared the life out of me. Why would you creep up on a woman in the dark like that?”
He laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t realise you were so skittish.”
“I’ve always been skittish.”
“Noted,” he said.
She wished she could see his eyes better. She could always tell what he was thinking by the look in his eyes, but the twilight made them darker than usual. He wore tailored shorts and a collared shirt. His feet were bare.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He shrugged. “That’s a nice welcome. It’s good to see you as well.”
There was something so frustrating about the man. It was as if he tried to annoy her with every word he spoke. “I’m terribly sorry, Rowan. How lovely it is to see you on this fine evening. How can I help you?”
Her voice was laced with sarcasm, and she bent to retrieve her board from the sand before trudging back towards her house. He fell into step beside her.
“I’m not going to be around for too long, so I wanted to see you again. Is that okay?”
His words surprised her and momentarily rendered her mute.
“Oh.”
He coughed. “Anyway, how’s the wildlife refuge?”
She set her board down beside an outdoor shower on the side of her house and faced him. “It’s good, I guess. We’re running a little low on funding. I have this government grant I’ve got to apply for. But I never seem to have the time to sit down and do it.”
“Instead of surfing?”
She laughed. “The ocean was calling.”
“I can help, if you like. I’ve filled out a lot of paperwork in my time. I’m pretty good at writing mundane details into small boxes.” He grinned. “I know focusing on one thing at a time is hard for you.”
The outdoor light illuminated his face. His chin was covered with stubble in a way that was both adorable and completely out of character for him. He was usually so well-groomed that it was off-putting. The opposite of Penny, who hardly looked in a mirror most days.
The two of them were like magnetic poles. They didn’t attract one another—they repelled. They couldn’t be more different if they tried. And yet, there was something about Rowan that not only got under her skin, but intrigued her. She couldn’t stand him, yet wondered what he was doing whenever he wasn’t with her. The fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about him infuriated her even more.
She rinsed off the board and herself while Rowan leaned against the house wall, arms crossed, watching her with a half grin on his handsome face. She was further irritated by his smugness.
“Why did you come over here to see me only to laugh at me?” she asked as she dripped dry outside the mudroom door.
His smile faded. Then he scowled. “I’m not laughing at you.”
“Yes, you are. I’ve seen that look on your face for as long as I’ve known you. You enjoy criticising and teasing me. Why do you do it?”
He pushed his hands deep into his pockets. She opened the door. For the first time, the look on his face stopped her in her tracks. Had she gone too far?
His nostrils flared. “You wouldn’t understand.”
She’d been half joking, but his response made her frown. Did he really go out of his way to irritate and laugh at her? She’d wondered for years, but perhaps she’d been right all along. It must’ve been some kind of game for him.
“Try me,” she said, pressing her hands to her hips.
He grunted. “You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to want something you can’t have.”
He raised a hand towards her face as if to cup her cheek with his palm, then let it fall to his side. His jaw clenched. Before she could respond, he spun on his heel and stalked into the darkness. The sound of his car door slamming and the engine revving to life before it growled away echoed through the quiet evening air. Penny gaped after him, her eyes wide.
After Penny had gotten dressed, she put off filling out the grant paperwork yet again and padded down the hallway in her bare feet to her brother’s room. When he was on the island, he stayed with her at the beach house. But most of the time, he lived on the mainland, travelling around to whatever construction site he was working on at the time. He’d married a woman on the mainland five years earlier, but they were separated, so she’d seen a lot more of him lately than she had in a long time.
She knocked on his bedroom door, and it swung open. “You decent?”
“Come in, Pen.”
She walked into the room and sat on his bed. The covers were wrinkled, and the pillow was at the wrong end. She’d never known Rob to make a bed in his entire life. He wasn’t much good at picking up after himself, either.
“How are Jacqui and Julian?” His estranged wife and son lived in Townsville. Julian was five years old.
He sighed. “He starts school next week.”
“That’ll be exciting for him.”
“I’m going to Townsville so I can be there to take him on the first day.”
“That’s good. You don’t want to miss it.”
He shook his head, his face grim. “I miss so much as it is.”
“Do you think you and Jacqui will ever get back together?”
He sighed. “I hope so. I’m working on it. I’ve been calling her every day in the hopes that she’ll talk to me, give me some idea what I can do to reconcile. But she’s still not cooperating. She’s good about Julian, though, and always gives me time to talk to him and tells me about what’s coming up.”
“If you really want to make things work, I’m sure you will.”
“I don’t know. She seems ready to move on. I think she might be dating again.”
“What makes you say that?” Penny asked.
He chewed on his lower lip, eyes bright. “She said something about her mum coming over to watch Julian the other night. I don’t know—the tone of it or something made me think she’d been on a date. But I could be wrong. I hope I am.”
“You still love her?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I miss having my family. I miss Julian and getting to be there with him when he wakes up in the morning. I don’t have a residence, not a permanent one, so I can’t have him come live with me, and it’s killing me.”
“Maybe it’s time for a change of career?”
“You could be right. I’m getting too old for this business anyway. I’ve been thinking about settling somewhere and changing pace so Julian can stay with me during the holidays and on some weekends. He won’t be a kid forever, and I’m missing it all.” He brushed golden curls from his eyes.
“Your hair is getting too long,” Penny said. She hated to see her brother in pain like this. It was hard to watch him suffer and not be able to do anything about it. She reached up to ruffle his hair.
He smirked. “Soon I’ll be able to tuck it behind my ears like you do.”
“Come into town with me tomorrow and I’ll introduce you to my hairdresser.”
He tugged a suitcase from beneath his bed and set it on the end of the covers, opening the lid. “I’m leaving, Pen. I won’t be here tomorrow.”
“That was sudden,” she said.
“Not really, I got a call earlier about a job.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
He smiled at her as he shoved a pair of pants into a large canvas bag. “Me too. I’ll miss you and this place. I’ve grown attached to having a swim every morning and lazing around on the sand. But the good times can’t last forever. Time to get back to work, make some money.”
“Speaking of unemployed bums lazing around on the sand, Rowan was just here.”
“He was?” Rob glanced up at the door. “Why didn’t he come in?”
“I don’t know,” Penny replied. “It was the strangest thing. He spoke to me for a few minutes, said something about wanting what he can’t have, then marched off into the night. Do you have any idea what he was going on about?”
Rob’s face clouded. He turned his back to reach for a bottle of water and shoved it into the side of his bag. “Stay away from him.”
“Stay away from him? I hardly ever see him. What’s going on, Rob?”
“I only have one rule—no friends dating my sister.” His voice grew louder with every word.
Penny’s brow furrowed, and she walked to the door, then faced him. “You do know I’m a grown adult?”
His eyes narrowed. “The rule still stands.”
“I’m not your property or your wife. I’m your sister. I can date whoever I like.”
“Not my friends, you can’t. He’s my best mate, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“Why? Is he a criminal or a serial killer? If he’s your best friend, surely you think he’s a good person. Wouldn’t that mean you’d be happy for me to date him?”
His mouth opened and shut like a goldfish. Finally, he exploded. “Stay away from Rowan Clements. I mean it, Penelope.”
Anger roiled in her gut. How dare he presume to tell her how to live her life. She was forty-five years old, for heaven’s sake. She didn’t need a chaperone or a babysitter, and she certainly didn’t need an older brother acting like some kind of medieval father figure. “I refuse even to talk to you about this, Robert St James. You’re not a teenager anymore, and I’m not a kid. Time to grow up!”
She stormed out of the room and down the hall, then slammed her bedroom door shut behind her so that a picture frame rattled against the wall. She threw herself down on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest, her breathing ragged.
She didn’t understand him when he got like that. He was a brute and a bully. She knew it was because he cared about her, but she didn’t need his protection any longer. She wasn’t the sweet, naïve little curly-haired girl he remembered from their childhood. She was a grown woman capable of making her own choices, and even he should be able to see that her choice wouldn’t be to date Rowan Clements. They weren’t suited to one another, and besides that, he lived in an entirely different country. It made no sense for Rob to be angry about something so unlikely.
Ten
Beatrice was flustered. It was the day of the grand opening, and so far, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. The paint the contractor had used on the walls turned out to be yellow when it was supposed to be white. They’d had to redo it the previous evening, it still stunk throughout as though the paint was wet. So, she’d had to open all the windows and run several industrial fans in the space to help air it out. Then the brand-new stove had failed to work, which turned out to be an electrical issue. The electrician was busy, then he broke his leg playing cricket and she had to find someone else to replace him last minute.
