The Banksia Bay Beach Shack Page 26

No. Todd would never change. ‘Goodnight,’ she said and turned on her heel.

  As the sun passed its highest point in the sky, Laura packed away all her notes and put them in the bedroom. She placed the tiny wooden mouse in the pocket of her coat and sat on the bed staring at the mess she’d created.

  There was a knock on the door and she jumped up and ran to the front of the house, hoping Heath had returned. As she swung the front door open, standing before her was Virginia.

  ‘May I come in?’ The old lady looked frail.

  ‘Please. Sit down.’

  ‘It would appear we have a few things that perhaps we need to talk about.’ Virginia lowered herself onto the sofa.

  ‘I guess Heath’s been to see you?’

  ‘You guess correctly.’

  ‘I never meant to hurt him. To hurt anyone. I was just trying to find out about my grandmother.’

  Virginia sat perfectly still.

  ‘Her name was Lillian Woodhouse-Prescott. I think perhaps you might have known her.’ She played with the pendant that hung around her neck.

  Across the coffee table, Virginia slid over a familiar photo, but said nothing.

  ‘You’re Gigi, aren’t you?’ Laura asked.

  ‘Yes. And that’s Lily. I did know your grandmother. We were friends.’

  Laura got up and paced the room. How much should she ask? How hard should she push?

  ‘Were you close?’

  ‘Very. We were like sisters.’

  Laura handed her the same photo, ‘Sisters of Summer’, and Virginia’s head snapped up.

  ‘She kept it?’ A tear fell down the deep lines of Virginia’s left cheek.

  The two photos lay on the coffee table, side by side.

  Laura sat back down. Rule number eight, start at the beginning, start simple.

  ‘What happened?’

  A strange sound escaped Virginia’s lips. A sad sound. ‘We . . . grew apart.’ She cast her eyes down.

  It may well have been the truth, but Laura knew it wasn’t the entire truth.

  ‘That’s it?’

  Virginia lifted her gaze. ‘Perhaps you can tell me. You haven’t exactly been completely truthful and upfront with us, have you, dear?’

  Touché. Was there even such a thing as complete truth? A tiny detail left out here, an insignificant fragment forgotten there. Maybe the truth wasn’t just the first casualty of war. Perhaps it was the first casualty of life.

  ‘I know something happened in the summer of sixty-three, sixty-four. I know it involved you. Possibly Yvonne. I know that was the summer my grandfather died. I know Lillian never came back here again after that.’

  The colour drained from Virginia’s face. ‘Maybe that’s all you need to know,’ she whispered.

  ‘I need to know the truth.’ Laura leaned forward.

  Virginia let out a huff. ‘And what will you do with it, if you have it? Write your next award-winning article? I looked you up, Miss Prescott.’

  Laura sat back, her mouth open, staring at Virginia. How long had she known Laura’s true identity? In her mind she scrambled to find the right words to justify her deception. Yet again. But there were no words, no excuses left. She drew in a long breath and squared her shoulders.

  ‘I promise you that’s not why I’m here. I just want to know about my grandmother. She never spoke of the past. I just want to find out about her. And the people close to her back then.’

  ‘And have you asked her?’

  Laura closed her eyes. ‘She passed away last month.’

  Silence filled the space between them; another tear fell down Virginia’s cheek.

  ‘What if you don’t like what you find?’ she whispered. ‘What if what you uncover isn’t pleasant and paints people in a different light to what you believe to be true? What then?’

  Laura hadn’t thought about that. It hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was so focused on uncovering the truth, she hadn’t once considered what she’d do if that truth was ugly, or painful, or . . . worse.

  She leaned back in the armchair opposite the sofa. ‘I don’t know. I think . . . I think maybe I’d still like to know.’

  Virginia hauled herself to standing. She ambled around the room, touching the furniture, rearranging the photos on the sideboard.

  ‘How do I know I can trust you?’

  It was a fair question. And one Laura wasn’t sure how to answer. ‘I guess you can’t know. Not for sure. I can promise you I’m not here to do anyone harm. But I understand my promise might not mean much.’

  It meant nothing. She knew that. Not after she’d lied to everyone Virginia cared about. She also knew that whatever had happened all those years ago had power. Real power. And sharing it meant a level of trust Virginia probably couldn’t give her.

  But she knew it was the only way she could find out the truth. She had to make Virginia trust her. Somehow.

  ‘Wait,’ she said, and ran into the bedroom. There was only one way she could think of to convince Virginia that she was not here to hurt anyone.

  She came back into the living room carrying her files, and placed them on the coffee table.

  ‘This is everything I’ve learned, all the questions I’ve been asking. Take it. Take it all. I don’t want a story. I just want to know more about Lillian and Richard.’

  Virginia sat back down and looked at the files and then back to Laura. ‘That’s the thing, dear. It isn’t just about Lily and Richard. Or me. There are other factors involved here. Other people.’

  Laura crouched down beside her. ‘Take them.’ She placed the files in Virginia’s lap and covered the old lady’s hands with hers. ‘Do whatever you want with them. And if you can find it in your heart to tell me anything more, I’ll be forever grateful.’

  She knew it was a gamble, but she had to take it.

  She helped Virginia to her feet and walked her to the door.

  ‘I don’t know, Laura. I just don’t know.’

  The pain and conflict fighting within Virginia were clearly etched in the lines of her face. She stepped out onto the verandah, steadying herself with the railing that led down the steps.

  ‘Virginia?’ Laura called out to her, and the old woman turned around slowly. ‘I know I have no right to ask, but do you think maybe you could let Heath know I’m sorry? Ask him to forgive me?’

  ‘I’ll be asking him for forgiveness myself,’ Virginia said as she turned away, and Laura wondered if she’d heard her correctly.

  The temperature dropped as the sun disappeared behind a cloud.

  Virginia knocked on Yvonne’s door.

  ‘Hey, Vir— what’s wrong? You look terrible.’ Yvonne let her in and they bustled into the kitchen.

  Virginia handed over the files. She hadn’t looked at them yet. She was too frightened. This was something they had to do together.

  They spread the papers across the dining table and skimmed over each one.

  By the time they’d got through them all, Virginia’s hands were shaking and Yvonne’s skin was pale.

  ‘She’s got all the pieces except one.’ Yvonne stood up and opened the kitchen window. The light breeze was bitterly cold; the afternoon sky was turning grey. ‘What is she planning on doing with all this?’

  That was Virginia’s worry. ‘She says nothing, that she’s just trying to find out about Lily’s past. She said I can have the files, do whatever I want with them. She only asks that I tell her what I can about Lily.’

  ‘Do you believe her?’

  That was the question, wasn’t it? Was she really just a granddaughter trying to find out about her family, or was she a hard-hitting journalist looking for her next story?

  In the end, the answer didn’t really matter, Virginia supposed. Once the truth was out there, there was no hiding it away again, no matter if Laura wrote a story or kept it to herself. That was the thing about the truth. It had a life of its own once released.

  ‘Are you going to fill in the blanks for her?’ Yvonne aske
d.

  ‘No. I can’t. I can’t do that to you.’

  ‘To me? This isn’t about me. It’s about you.’

  Was that what Yvonne really thought? That Virginia had kept their secret all these years for her own selfish reasons? She had, of course. But not only that. If the secret came out and an investigation took place, Yvonne would be implicated too. She might not be punished. But her reputation would be ruined. Conspiracy, accessory, whatever it was called. Yvonne’s life would be ruined too.

  Small towns like Banksia Bay were quick to judge and slow to forgive.

  And what would it do to Charlotte and Heath when they learned that their beloved grandmother wasn’t who they thought she was?

  ‘It’s about both of us. All of us. She doesn’t need to know. Maybe I can tell her about the early years when Lily visited. Nothing about that summer.’

  ‘She’ll ask more questions.’

  Yes, she probably would. Virginia would have to make up something plausible about how it all ended. She could do that. Most of her life had been a lie, after all.

  Yvonne left the room for a moment and came back with a manila folder inside a ziplock bag.

  ‘You should probably have these.’ She handed Virginia the folder.

  Inside were the missing pages of The Bugle.

  ‘I thought you destroyed these years ago.’ She looked at Yvonne, fear turning her cold.

  ‘I know I was supposed to. But I couldn’t. I guess I felt like I didn’t deserve to be let off.’

  ‘Let off? For what? You did nothing wrong.’

  Yvonne wrung her hands. ‘Maybe, maybe if I’d said something that night, if I’d stayed quiet that day . . . It’s my fault, Virginia. I didn’t deserve to erase what happened so easily.’

  ‘Yvonne. Nothing that happened was your fault. Nothing.’ Tears pricked Virginia’s eyes and she embraced her old friend. All these years Yvonne had been carrying around a guilt she never should have borne.

  Distant thunder rumbled through the air.

  New Year’s Eve 1963

  As the sun began to rise, Gigi pulled herself out of her bunk and got dressed. At least it was fishing, she supposed, even if it was with Richard and not Lily. New Year’s Eve was always slow around the caravan park and Mum never minded much if Gigi did her chores later in the day.

  Outside the cabin, leaning up against the wall where she’d left them last night, were Gigi’s rod and bucket. She picked them up and felt a weight to the bucket that surprised her.

  She looked inside and saw a banksia seed pod carved into the shape of a little bird. Quickly she picked it up, held it to her chest for just a moment, and then hid it in her pocket.

  It wasn’t long now till they would be free to be together.

  She wandered over to the beach, in no particular hurry. Richard would be there, or he wouldn’t. Regardless, she would enjoy the morning fish, tasting the salt air, the cool breeze sailing over her skin.

  With no sign of company yet, she threaded the bait onto her hook, breathing in deeply, exhaling slowly, and she cast her line. After ten minutes the genuine surfers began to arrive, ready to catch the first waves of the day. They wouldn’t pay attention to her on the jetty. The tourists and pseudo-surfers wouldn’t show up for a while yet. These first few hours of daylight, before the earth woke up properly, were her favourite of any summer day.

  Eventually Richard arrived and apologised for his tardiness. Lily had had an uncomfortable night, which meant he hadn’t had much sleep.

  ‘But I see you’ve done just fine without me.’ He pointed at her bucket, now filled with three good-sized leatherjackets.

  ‘It’s all in how you bait the hook.’ She lifted her rod.

  ‘Show me?’

  Richard was most definitely a better fisher than his wife. With his first cast, he hooked a silver fish and reeled it in. He got so excited by his victory over nature that, as he was unhooking the fish’s mouth, he lost his grip and juggled it for a moment before it fell back into the sea below.

  Gigi doubled over, giggling.

  ‘Picking on the beginner?’ Richard moved closer to her and reached out his hand and touched her cheek. ‘You have the most infectious laugh, Gigi. Lily doesn’t laugh anymore.’ He moved his hand so his fingers ran over her lips.

  ‘Richard?’ She stepped back.

  He followed her and grabbed her shoulder. ‘You are such a pretty thing. Why do you dress like a boy?’ His hand moved to her neck. ‘Your skin is so soft. It’s been so long since she let me . . .’

  Gigi slapped him. Across the face. Hard. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  His face turned red. ‘I’m sorry, Gigi. Please forgive me. I don’t know what came over me. Please. Please don’t tell her.’

  ‘I think it’s time you went home to your wife.’ She emphasised the last word.

  He bowed his head and mumbled some sort of goodbye.

  Gigi packed up her gear and headed home as quickly as she could.

  Back at the caravan park, Gigi completed her chores and then asked for more. She needed to keep busy. She didn’t know what had possessed Richard that morning, and she didn’t like one bit how it made her feel. Should she tell Lily? No. Richard would deny anything had happened. And technically it hadn’t. Not really.

  No. Best just to put it out of her mind. She would see Lily and Richard tonight at the reopening of the pub. There would be a crowd of people there, and she could act as if everything was normal.

  Because it was.

  Besides, there were bigger things to worry about tonight. Like whether Costas would be there. He was barely seen around town after the incident with Todd, certainly not at social events. But it was a big night for the Beaumonts, and the two families were close. She hadn’t wanted to ask Yvonne, afraid the answer would be no.

  An hour before they were all due at the pub, Yvonne knocked on the cabin door. In her arms was the basket of linen Mum had sent over to have mended. Mrs Beaumont was the best seamstress in town.

  ‘Mum said no charge, Mrs Gilbert. Thanks for helping her clean all the dust out of the pub yesterday.’ Yvonne handed over the basket to Gigi’s mum.

  It was good to see Yvonne happy again. It had taken so long after Costas’ stint in gaol for her to come back out of her shell. Gigi wondered if Costas had told Yvonne about their plans. She doubted it. Although Costas and Yvonne were as close as siblings, the risk was too great.

  Before she left, Yvonne turned to Gigi and winked. ‘Here’s the ribbon you asked to borrow.’ She handed over a soft red bow. ‘It will look great with your dress.’

  Gigi hadn’t asked for a ribbon. Message received loud and clear. Thank you, Yvonne. Costas would be there. Her heart started to race.

  ‘Are you going to wear a dress, love?’ Mum raised an eyebrow.

  Gigi squirmed a little inside, hoping her mum wouldn’t see through her ruse. ‘It is a special occasion.’

  She knew it was silly, getting all dolled up. Costas didn’t care about that sort of thing. But the moments they managed to steal together here and there were always rushed, usually in the dark. He was going to be looking at her tonight. Properly looking at her. And she wanted to look nice for him.

  She slipped on her red dress, brushed her hair and tied Yvonne’s ribbon in her ponytail. Around her neck she hung the guardian angel pendant.

  Together Gigi and her parents walked to the pub, and as they approached they could hear the joy of light conversation and music floating on the air. All of the locals were there. And some of the tourists. Even Mrs Duncan.

  Mr Beaumont was sweating in the kitchen, trying to keep the patrons happily fed. Mrs Beaumont was out the front, playing hostess, and doing a fine job of it, as far as Gigi could tell. Yvonne sat in the corner on her own, watching, listening – still not great with crowds.

  Gigi spotted Lily and Richard through the masses; they were sitting in the booth at the far end of the pub. Lily beckoned her over. If she didn’t go and sa
y hello, Lily would be upset. And worse, suspect something was wrong.

  ‘You look simply gorgeous,’ Lily said as she struggled to get up and hug Gigi. She pulled away and held her at arm’s length so she could inspect her properly. ‘Stunning. I always knew you had it in you. Todd will be impressed.’

  ‘Beautiful,’ Richard said. ‘Really. Can I get you a drink?’ He held up his whisky glass.

  ‘Just a lemonade. Thank you.’

  Gigi sat down next to Lily, who was rabbiting on about something that sounded so terribly urgent and dull at the same time. But Gigi wasn’t really listening.

  Over by the bar, just off to the left, away from the bulk of the crowd, stood Mr Tinellis. And Costas.

  And he was looking straight at her.

  Heat rose all over her skin. Richard couldn’t come back with her drink fast enough.

  Lily droned on. Gigi blocked out the noise.

  When Richard returned, Gigi broke eye contact with Costas, afraid Richard would notice. Afraid she would give herself away.

  She stole glances over to Costas when she could, every inch of her aching to go to him.

  Todd made his way over to them and whistled when he saw Gigi in her dress. ‘Wow-ee, do you scrub up all right.’ His words carried the evidence of a few beers already drunk.

  ‘Sit, Todd. Join us,’ Lily’s voice lilted sweetly.

  Gigi remained polite. With Todd and Costas under the same roof, she knew she had to be careful. Not cause a scene. She would smile, listen, and wait for the opportunity to remove herself from Todd’s presence.

  People mingled. And ate. And drank.

  Gigi waited.

  Todd went to the bar to get the next round of drinks and Gigi saw her chance. She whispered to Lily that she was going to the bathroom and slipped out of the booth.

  On her way out of the pub, she made sure she walked past Costas and flashed him the briefest of glances, hoping he would know what it meant.

  Once outside, she hurried to the beach, throwing off her shoes as she passed the fishing shack. The south end of the beach was protected from the strong wind that had stirred late in the day, and she sat in the sand dunes and waited.

  It wasn’t long before she heard a scuttling along the sand. Her heart beat faster. Her mouth went dry.