The Banksia Bay Beach Shack Read online

  ‘Is there something going on between you two?’ Laura asked.

  Charlotte’s cheeks burned even brighter. ‘We’re just friends.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Like you and Heath.’ Charlotte looked her in the eye.

  Touché. Time to change the subject. ‘How’s work been?’

  Charlotte gave her a wry look. ‘Not too bad. How’s your project going?’

  Damn. She’d walked into that. ‘It’s coming along.’ Both truth and lie. She’d certainly learned more, put some pieces together. But the picture was still not whole.

  ‘And now you have a wealth of information and experience you can include about surfing.’

  ‘Wealth might be exaggerating it a little.’

  ‘Maybe. But more than me.’

  Heath caught another wave in and then plonked himself beside them.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Charlotte’s face was a picture of concern and Heath shot her a look. ‘I mean, it’s not like you to come in early.’ She stumbled over her words.

  ‘I was just a bit worried about what you two might be saying about me.’ He flashed her a grin.

  ‘Contrary to what your over-inflated sense of self and charm would have you believe, dear brother, we weren’t discussing you at all.’

  Heath looked at Laura.

  ‘Nope,’ she concurred.

  He put his hand to chest. ‘I’m wounded.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ Charlotte’s voice was mocking, but her expression still showed worry.

  What was Laura missing?

  One by one all the gang came in, Aiden rather reluctantly.

  ‘Uncle Heath.’ Aiden stood in front of Heath, his hands balled into fists at his side. ‘Can we go fishing? Please?’ His little hands started shaking.

  Heath took in a long, slow breath. ‘Oh, buddy. I’m not sure they’re biting today.’

  Charlotte looked at her brother, but he refused to make eye contact with her. She turned to her son. ‘Maybe another day, hey?’

  Aiden pouted.

  A look passed between Yvonne and Charlotte. ‘I can take you, Aiden,’ the old lady offered. ‘I can show you my secret spot.’

  Aiden looked back and forth between Heath and Yvonne, clearly struggling to weigh up the situation – beg his favourite uncle to take him, or find out where Yvonne’s secret spot was.

  In the end, the lure of learning a secret won out.

  The two headed off down the beach, as Yvonne called behind her, ‘I’ll bring him home when we’re done.’

  Charlotte turned to her brother. ‘Why don’t we head off then, Heath?’

  He didn’t move. ‘I was thinking of catching the sunset.’

  ‘Heath?’ Her inflection rose.

  He smiled at his sister, but his voice was stern. ‘Charlotte.’

  She pursed her lips but said nothing.

  ‘Hey, Ryan.’ Heath turned to their friend. ‘Weren’t you saying you wanted to try out the new schnitty at the pub? Might be worth doing while Aiden isn’t there to pick all the food off your plate. You know what he’s like.’

  Ryan laughed. ‘What do you say, Charlotte? You don’t get to eat in peace much these days.’

  An expression of resignation, mixed with a little excitement, came over Charlotte’s face. ‘Um, okay, I guess.’

  The look of joy in Ryan’s eyes told Laura everything she needed to know about the ‘just friends’ declaration.

  Charlotte got up and leaned over her brother. ‘Don’t overdo it,’ she whispered.

  He reached up and squeezed her hand. ‘Promise.’

  Alone on the sand, Laura and Heath watched the waves.

  ‘Was that about me?’ Laura broke the silence. ‘Charlotte wanting you to go home?’

  ‘No. It was about me. She’s just being a big sister. Don’t give her another thought.’ He turned and looked her in the eye and all thoughts left her mind.

  The sun began to set behind the hills, casting deep shadows across the rippling water. Across the sand Heath’s hand inched, until it was nearly touching hers. He left it there, moved no closer.

  Laura’s heart was racing. With a sense of daring that came from who knows where, she stretched out her fingers and interlaced them with his. His thumb traced circles over her hand.

  Rule number ten was at direct odds with rule number three: don’t get personally involved in a story versus trust your gut. Laura was inclined to go with rule number three.

  Her heart thumped in her chest.

  Heath twisted his body towards her. In the fading light, his eyes locked onto hers. He reached out and brushed the still-damp hair from her face, running his fingers along her jaw. She breathed in. He took that as the sign she was hoping he would and closed the distance between them, his lips touching hers.

  They tasted of salt as he kissed her, drawing her to him. His hand caressed the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

  She leaned in closer to him, pressing against him. His other hand reached down her back, holding her tight. A quiet moan escaped her lips.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He pulled back, cradling her chin in his hand.

  She swallowed the catch in her throat. ‘Don’t be.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to just spring that on you like that.’

  ‘I didn’t mind.’

  He kissed her again, leaning her back to lie down in the sand. Her hands roamed down his spine and stopped just above his hips.

  Pushing himself up onto his elbows, his face raised just above hers, he breathed out. ‘I think maybe we should . . .’ He rolled over and stood, reaching out a hand to help her up.

  ‘Yes. We probably should.’ She cleared her throat.

  ‘Sorry.’ He started brushing sand off her back. It was caked into her hair as well.

  ‘It certainly looks a lot more romantic, less . . . sandy in the movies.’ She tried to flick her hair clean.

  ‘Sorry. Romance is not really my thing.’

  ‘Oh, no. I didn’t mean . . . that was really . . .’ She fanned herself with her hand, her cheeks burning, both from desire and now embarrassment.

  ‘Hot, but sandy?’

  She giggled. ‘Yes. Definitely. Both.’ The truest statement she’d made since arriving in Banksia Bay.

  He wrapped his arms around her and she lay her head against his chest. Right there in his strong embrace, right then as the sun disappeared below the banksia trees behind them, she couldn’t imagine it was possible to feel any happier.

  And it scared her to death.

  She pushed away.

  ‘I should probably get you home, before I do something rather ungentlemanly.’ He let her go and a surge of loss rushed over her.

  Hand in hand they walked back to the holiday house. On the verandah they stood outside the front door facing each other, not going in. Heath ran his hands up Laura’s arms.

  ‘I really should go. Surf tomorrow?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He kissed her, slow, deep. As he pulled away, she leaned into him, wanting just a little more, and he kissed her again.

  ‘Okay. I’m going. Now.’ He stepped back, holding on to her hand, squeezing it before they separated.

  Laura watched him walk down the steps and away from her along the path. He turned and ran back to her, leapt onto the verandah, and kissed her again. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t help it.’

  He didn’t turn back as he headed down the road and once he was gone Laura went inside. She closed the door behind her and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled in to her chest.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she said aloud. How was it possible to want something so badly with your heart, but not want it at all with your head?

  She sat there a while, composing her thoughts, slowing her breathing. When she got up she moved to the sofa where her notes lay across the cushions.

  The evidence of her lies and deceit. Guilt ripped through her. She had to tell him.

  But how?

  Vir
ginia left the cover of the sand dunes and trudged back to the shack, her head hanging low. Seeing Heath and Laura on the beach together had filled her with dread. It was bad enough that Laura was here to destroy her. That Heath was now caught up in it too . . . That was too much.

  ‘Hey, squirt.’ Ian’s deep, gravelly voice came from behind as she dragged her feet through the sand. ‘Penny for your thoughts.’

  ‘Find me a penny and I’ll give them to you.’ She had no energy to shoo her old friend away.

  ‘Squirt?’ Ian reached out and took her hand. ‘You know, if there’s something wrong, you can tell me.’

  Virginia stopped and turned to face him. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

  He shook his head. ‘Have you forgotten how long I’ve known you, Virginia? I know you better than you think. Ever since Laura turned up in town, something’s not been sitting right with you.’

  For the briefest of moments Virginia’s eyes flashed before she regained her composure. ‘I’m just not sure I like her hanging out with Heath so much.’ Which was the truth, but only part of it.

  Ian brushed her cheek with thick weathered fingers. ‘Squirt, I’m here for you. Always. Talk to me. Whenever you’re ready.’ He turned and walked away, and a faint echo of Virginia’s past danced around the edges of her memory.

  She shrugged off the feeling of deja vu. There was no time for that. She had to act.

  Everything she’d done, every secret she’d kept, had been to protect those she loved. And now Laura Prescott was here, determined to uncover a terrible truth. A truth that would hurt those Virginia held most dear.

  That just wasn’t fair.

  Not that life was fair. If it was, well, how many things would be different? How much pain and guilt could have been avoided? Often in her dreams she imagined how very different her life could have been, if it had taken an alternative turn all those years ago. They were good dreams. Agonising dreams. Because life wasn’t different. And it never could be.

  Virginia had no idea if fate and destiny were real, or if it was all just some sort of random mess. She was inclined to think the latter. Because how could something preordained be so cruel? But then, how could chance explain the arrival of Laura, here in the Bay, staying in the holiday house, getting close to her family? No. There was nothing random about that.

  Upstairs she unlocked the cupboard under the kitchen sink. All these years she’d told people she locked it out of habit, from when the kids were little, the cleaning chemicals safely out of the way. What a silly lie.

  She pulled out the old shoebox and poured herself a stiff whisky.

  Sitting on the sofa with her history in her lap, she drank a large gulp of scotch, hoping to find courage in the burning liquid.

  She hadn’t looked inside her box of memories for nearly sixty years.

  Running her fingers over its dusty surface, she drew in a deep breath. Whether it was fate or chance at work, it didn’t matter. Her past was back. And she was going to have to deal with it – to protect her family.

  The lid tore slightly as she lifted it off and she placed it beside her on the sofa.

  ‘Well, old girl. Time is up.’ She looked up and took a deep breath.

  On top of all the other items in the box – the zoo ticket, Arthur’s map, the carved banksia seed pods – was an old blue envelope. Inside was the picture of Gigi and Lily, the day of Lily’s first fry-up, and a broken silver pendant. The other half of Laura’s necklace. She held it tightly in her hand, a symbol that had once held hope and promise, now a reminder of all that was lost.

  Tears streamed down her face and she let them fall. There was no point now trying to hold them back.

  She didn’t know what to do about Laura – how to protect Heath and Charlotte and Yvonne. If she confronted her, then the truth would have to come out. If she did nothing, would Laura discover it anyway? She had to put a stop to her. Somehow.

  In life there were some truths that had to remain buried. In death, some lies that had to be maintained.

  March 1963

  A dark cloud hung over Gigi as the school year plodded along. She hadn’t seen Costas since the bonfire, despite her attempts to accidently bump into him. Granted, that night had ended awkwardly, more than awkwardly, and she had no idea what had gone wrong, but knowing Costas wouldn’t be at school at all left Gigi less than excited to start studying again. This was supposed to be the best year yet – get her leaving certificate and be the first in her family to ever have the chance to go to university – and yet all she felt was a pervasive sadness that seeped out of her every pore.

  She trudged through the day, answering questions when called upon by the teacher, helping the younger students with their work when they got stuck, but even that couldn’t lift her spirits.

  Lumbering over to sit in her usual spot for lunch, she caught sight of something nestled between the roots of the gum tree. As she got closer, she could see what it was.

  A small apple carved out of a banksia seed pod.

  She looked around, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. It hadn’t been there at recess; he had to be nearby.

  Over by the swing set one of the younger girls stood, hanging onto the pole with one arm, swaying back and forth, watching Gigi closely through a smoothed-down fringe.

  Gigi beckoned her over.

  ‘Do you know something about this, Yvonne?’ Gigi asked her. Yvonne Beaumont was three years younger than Gigi and her dad ran the pub. She was always on the periphery of the older kids, hoping they’d invite her in, but they never did.

  ‘Well?’ Gigi prompted her.

  She shrugged.

  ‘You saw him? You saw him drop this off?’ Gigi kept her voice low.

  The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. Todd was now the oldest one at school and he was making sure everyone knew it. Ever since the bonfire, whenever Todd was in a group all semblance of niceness had disappeared. He’d pushed three first formers over before the first bell and had taken a kid’s recess last break. He was blustering around the playground now, just waiting for another opportunity to prove he was on top.

  ‘Yvonne?’

  The girl said nothing.

  ‘Did he tell you not to say anything?’

  Yvonne didn’t move.

  ‘Did he give this to you? To put here?’

  The girl cast her eyes down.

  It was clear Yvonne was going to keep her promise not to say anything, which for the strange little girl wouldn’t be hard. Gigi couldn’t remember ever hearing her say a word, except when asked a direct question by Miss Smith.

  But why would Costas give the carved apple to her to leave here? Wait. A memory. Halfway through last year there had been an accident. Yvonne fell out of the tree outside her house, four doors up from the Tinellises’. She was hurt pretty badly, if the stories were true.

  And it was Mr Tinellis who helped her before the ambulance arrived. Yvonne had followed Costas around school every day for a month after she returned. At the time, Gigi just thought it was her usual attempt to get in with the older students. Now she realised it was more than that.

  ‘Are you two friends?’ Gigi asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘Can you thank him for me? Next time you see him.’

  Yvonne turned to walk away.

  ‘Wait.’ Gigi pulled out her notebook and pencil and scribbled a quick message before tearing the page out. ‘Can you give him this?’

  As she handed the note to Yvonne, Todd strode towards them. ‘What’s this, then?’

  He took the note out of Yvonne’s hand.

  ‘Seriously, Gilbert? You’re still pining over that greasy loser?’ He tore the note into tiny little pieces and scattered them in the dirt.

  His posse of followers formed a semicircle around her. She pushed Yvonne back, but the little girl had more courage than Gigi gave her credit for. She stepped closer to Gigi and took her hand.

  ‘Are none of us good enough for
you, Gilbert?’ Todd closed the gap between them. ‘Are none of us Aussies your flavour? Probably just as well, hey, lads?’ He turned to his mates and they slapped each other on the back. ‘None of us would have you, anyway. Even if you threw yourself at us.’

  Gigi took in a deep breath. ‘Is that what this is about, Todd? That I rejected you over summer?’

  Todd sniggered. ‘You? Rejected me? What a joke, fellas.’

  The posse all laughed.

  ‘She’s lost her mind. No way would I be the least bit interested in a reject like you.’

  ‘Well, then.’ Gigi stepped forward and pulled herself up tall. ‘If you’re not the least bit interested in me, what are you doing wasting your breath even talking to me?’

  Todd looked confused. Maybe Gigi had used too many words.

  ‘Yeah, Todd,’ one of the boys piped up. ‘Don’t waste your breath.’

  Todd stepped up so close to Gigi, she could smell the ham on his breath from his lunch. ‘This isn’t over, Gilbert,’ he whispered, and he grabbed the carved apple out of her hands and threw it across the road.

  The posse moved away and Gigi took in large breaths. One more year of this and then she’d be free of Todd.

  She hadn’t noticed Yvonne let go of her hand, and when she realised, she spun around looking for the brave kid. When she spotted her, she gasped. Yvonne had jumped over the fence and run across the road to pick up the apple. Gigi looked around, hoping Miss Smith wouldn’t see her out of bounds.

  Fast as lightning, Yvonne returned and gave Gigi the apple, a small chunk taken out of its side.

  ‘Thank you,’ Gigi said, and she hugged her before Yvonne went back to playing on the pole of the swing set.

  As Gigi walked home in the afternoon, she knew it was going to be a long year. A very long year. Even the anticipated joy of summer wouldn’t be able to sustain her like it usually did. Truth be told, she was less looking forward to summer, and more dreading it. Would Lily really come? What would it be like with her married? All Gigi knew was that it wasn’t going to be the same. And if today was anything to go by, school was going to be a real drag.

  She got back to the caravan park and checked if Mum had any chores for her. Bring the washing in. That was all. Dad and Ian were out at sea, so it would be just the two of them for dinner, and Mum was throwing together something simple. That was fine by Gigi. After the day she’d had, simple was welcome.