The Red Coast

by Di Morrissey

  She rang Nat’s mobile.

  ‘I hear the star guest has arrived. How was the drive? All okay?’ Jacqui asked.

  Nat laughed. ‘Oh, you should have seen them unpack themselves from that ridiculous car. Apparently, they had a ball on the drive up from Perth. Colin says Riley is terribly nice. He’s just left to drop him off at the Beach Club. I suggested a casual dinner for this evening, and he seemed fine with that. You and Jean-Luc could come along. I know your son is hanging out to meet Riley.’

  ‘I just picked up a friend from Perth and he’s already asked me to dinner,’ said Jacqui. ‘But could Jean-Luc go along with you anyway? He’s so keen to meet Riley.’

  ‘Why don’t you bring your friend along, too? We’ll have a great time,’ said Nat enthusiastically.

  In a way, Jacqui was disappointed not to be having a quiet dinner just with Damien, but she knew how much Jean-Luc was looking forward to meeting his favourite author. She contacted Damien and told him about the change of plans. Damien was easygoing about the news.

  ‘Sure, that’ll be fun. Riley Mathieson. I’d like to meet him. Rita reads his books all the time, and I’ve read one or two myself.’

  ‘Jean-Luc is beside himself at the thought of meeting him! Shall I collect you? I think we’re going to Toshi’s,’ said Jacqui.

  ‘Since Richie and I will need a car, I’m picking one up this afternoon. I’ll just meet you there.’

  *

  ‘Don’t you just love evenings like this?’ Jacqui asked her son as they stepped outside her house. She inhaled deeply. ‘A balmy breeze cooling the remnants of the day, the perfume of flowers, the golden light . . .’

  ‘The buzz of flying bugs that bite,’ rhymed Jean-Luc in a singsong voice.

  Jacqui laughed. ‘Okay, okay. I shall stop waxing lyrical. Would you rather walk or drive? It’s not far to go.’

  ‘Let’s walk. Maybe Riley will give us a ride home in the supercar.’

  ‘Not me, thanks. Besides, would there be room for three without it being too uncomfortable?’ She glanced at her son. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, Jean-Luc. Nat is probably bringing him in her car.’

  Damien was already waiting for them when they got there, and Nat and Lydia arrived shortly afterwards. They all settled down at the long table beneath a tree in the front garden of the old pearling master’s house which had been converted into a fashionable restaurant. Strands of lights were strung between the trees, smoky flame torches lit dark corners, and young waiters hurried between the garden tables, the bar along the verandah and the bamboo-lined dining rooms inside, redolent of the old pearling days.

  ‘They’re here.’ Jean-Luc nudged Jacqui excitedly.

  A low red Porsche pulled up in front of the restaurant and Colin stepped out of the passenger’s door. From the glow of the dials, the driver seemed to be checking the dashboard, then the slim frame of Riley Mathieson emerged, gently shutting the driver’s door behind him. Nat waved to them.

  ‘Move over,’ she murmured to Jacqui. ‘Let’s put Riley next to Jean-Luc.’

  Jacqui smiled across the table to Damien, who winked at her.

  When Colin and Riley came to the table Nat made the introductions. Riley shook hands with everyone and then slid into the seat between Jean-Luc and Jacqui. Colin ordered wine but Riley stayed with mineral water. ‘I’m driving,’ he explained.

  ‘How was your road trip?’ asked Lydia.

  ‘We had a few adventures, but it’s a very cool machine. I’m not sure the manufacturer would want to know where it’s been, though,’ said Riley.

  ‘What about the buyer? Does he know that his car’s arrived?’ asked Nat, turning to her husband, who gave a shrug.

  Riley picked up his menu and gave it a quick glance, then turned to Jean-Luc. ‘What do you recommend?’

  ‘Oh, this is my first time here,’ said Jean-Luc. ‘But all the food is recommended.’

  ‘Ah, what a lovely accent, you’re French?’

  Jean-Luc smiled. ‘Half. And half-Australian. My mother is Australian.’

  ‘Through and through,’ Jacqui laughed. ‘I own Red Coast Books, the town bookshop.’

  ‘Oh, an important lady,’ said Riley with a warm smile. ‘I would never have been published if a bookshop owner hadn’t given me a chance.’

  ‘I know that you self-published your first book,’ said Jean-Luc. ‘That was very clever of you.’

  ‘Thanks. Well, self-publishing wasn’t very common when I did that. It was quite expensive,’ said Riley modestly. ‘Now anyone can easily publish online. But I was a bit cheeky. I studied all the covers of bestselling books in my genre and mocked up my own cover.’ He laughed. ‘Luckily for me a bookshop owner agreed to take some of my books and put them up in the front of his shop. Next thing a woman who worked for a publishing company walked in and wondered why she’d never heard of this “bestselling author”!’ Riley made air quotes with his fingers. ‘She bought the book, read it and then contacted me. The rest, as they say, is history. I was very lucky. Do you want to write?’

  Jean-Luc shook his head. ‘To be an author? No, no, I don’t think I am good enough, so I am just an avid reader.’

  While Jacqui was listening to the exchange between Riley and Jean-Luc, Colin was relating an anecdote about their trip to Broome. The other guests roared with laughter as Colin finished his story.

  ‘I reckon Riley has enough material for another book after the trip we’ve just done,’ said Colin.

  Riley nodded. ‘And I can’t thank you enough for making it all happen, Colin. I’d love to do it again and not do it quite so quickly. Maybe we could stop and camp along the way next time.’

  ‘It was fun for me too. Glad we came up the coast road. We’ll do the centre next time, eh, mate?’ he said to Riley.

  ‘Which part did you like best?’ Jean-Luc asked the two men.

  ‘You mean other than putting the foot down? Lucky it’s bitumen all the way now,’ chuckled Colin. ‘Hate to do what we just did on a dirt road.’

  Riley answered, giving Jean-Luc his full attention. ‘There were so many wonderful experiences. We fed the wild dolphins at Monkey Mia, and visited the beach at beautiful Ningaloo. We drove into the mining towns, Port Hedland and Karratha. But when I think back, the best bit of all was swimming with the whale sharks at Exmouth.’

  ‘Wow. I’d love to do that!’ exclaimed Jean-Luc.

  Riley turned to Jacqui. ‘Have you swum with the whale sharks? It’s extraordinary. You feel like you’re on another planet.’

  ‘No, I haven’t, but it’s on the list. Have you?’ she asked Damien.

  ‘You bet,’ he replied. ‘And Riley’s right. It is an extraordinary experience.’

  ‘I expect you filmed it. Right?’ Jacqui laughed. ‘He’s a filmmaker,’ she explained to Riley.

  ‘That sounds like a great job! I’m writing a movie script at the moment. Wild fantasy stuff. Mostly blue screen and green screen techniques. It’s amazing the special effects you can do now,’ said Riley.

  Damien threw up his hands. ‘Not my thing at all, I’m afraid. I still love film best, although no one uses it or processes it any more. But one day it might make a comeback. There’s just a quality, a softness, the light that you get with film that sets a mood. There’s nothing else like it.’

  ‘We must order,’ said Lydia. ‘The food here is wonderful.’

  *

  It was a fun evening and Jacqui was so proud of Jean-Luc. He joined in the conversation with the adults and discussed all manner of subjects when asked for his opinion. Then he offered insightful comments and gave ideas from his own perspective that were thoughtful and appropriate. At one point Lydia disagreed with him, but when Jean-Luc gave her a calm and reasoned response, she graciously conceded that he’d made a valid argument.

  Damien had looked across at Jacqui and r
aised an admiring eyebrow. She smiled but knew she couldn’t take all the credit. It was an inherent part of French culture that people loved to talk for hours and discuss anything from politics to what they had for breakfast.

  As the dinner began to break up, Colin suddenly suggested that they might like to move to the Roebuck Pub and listen to the band there.

  Riley was the first to shake his head. ‘I need to catch up on some sleep. This has been lovely, thank you. I’m looking forward to exploring the town tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, Jean-Luc and I will make a move, too,’ said Jacqui, as Jean-Luc was too young for the hotel.

  ‘Riley, you’re taking the Porsche. Couldn’t you drop Jean-Luc off? Then we could all go to the Roey. C’mon, Jacqui, has Damien seen the Roey in full flight?’ said Colin.

  Jacqui was about to demur, but seeing the expression on Jean-Luc’s face, she smiled.

  ‘Would you mind, Riley? It’s not out of your way and I’m sure Jean-Luc would love to experience that car!’

  Jean-Luc hugged her and then Jacqui turned and shook Riley’s hand.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll catch up with you soon. We’re all very happy to have you here.’ She turned to Jean-Luc. ‘Not sure how long I’ll be, honey, so I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Have fun, Maman.’

  *

  They were all on the dance floor as the local band, the Mexicans, played, blue and red strobe lights flashing across the crowd.

  Jacqui waved a hand in front of her face as though it were a fan. ‘It’s hot in here,’ she shouted to Damien over the noise. ‘Too many bodies, and I’m out of condition!’

  ‘Want to sit out for a bit and grab a cold drink? We can go outside,’ said Damien.

  They took their drinks out into the cool of the night and sat at a table in the back courtyard.

  ‘It’s great music. You enjoying yourself?’ Damien asked.

  ‘I am. Really. Been a while since I let my hair down,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Boy, Jean-Luc will be beside himself riding home in that Porsche with Riley Mathieson!’

  ‘Too bad it’s dark and no one will see them,’ Damien joked. ‘Maybe he’ll have another opportunity. Riley’s a nice fellow. Quiet, not a loudmouth or big-noter. Not what I expected from such a successful author. Talking of successful authors, I’m looking forward to Sheila Turner coming to town. If she likes my idea, maybe I could roll it into something bigger.’

  ‘What’s your idea?’ Jacqui asked.

  ‘I’d love to take her to country and bring her face to face with the culture, the history out there. I’d love to hear her chat with the elders, both men and women. Maybe take her fishing, you know, get down and dirty. Well, earthy, anyway. See what she makes of an ancient culture and its traditional ways.’

  ‘Damien, that sounds fantastic!’

  ‘C’mon, finish up your drink and let’s dance some more. They’re playing our kind of song, slow and sexy!’ said Damien as he pulled her to her feet and took her back to the dance floor.

  It had been a long time since Jacqui had felt like this. Strong arms holding her, the hug of his body fitting hers, the music washing over them as she rested her head on his shoulder. Damien leaned down and kissed her ear and murmured, ‘I want you to come back to my room . . . and I don’t want you to leave before morning.’

  Jacqui lifted her face to his, lit up by the gold lights that now rolled around the dance floor. ‘I can’t do that,’ she whispered. ‘But maybe we’ll figure something out another time.’

  ‘I understand. There will be another time, Jacqui,’ he whispered back. Damien smiled at her and then bent his head and kissed her, lingeringly and tenderly. Jacqui kissed him back, oblivious to all around her, aching to be with him.

  *

  The smell of toasting bread and coffee woke Jacqui. She stirred languidly, remembering Damien’s kiss. Its promise. Her body ached at the thought of his touch, his caress. And the possibilities he’d suggested.

  Hearing a clatter in the kitchen, she jumped out of bed.

  Jean-Luc was making his breakfast. He grinned at his mother. ‘You had a good time last night?’

  ‘Yes, I did! I can’t remember when I last went dancing. It was so much fun. Everyone was on their feet.’

  ‘And you were with someone special?’ Her son raised an eyebrow.

  Jacqui laughed. ‘Perhaps I was. It was just nice to have fun with someone whose company I enjoy.’

  ‘Do you get lonely, Maman?’ asked Jean-Luc gently.

  His voice tugged at her heart. When he was younger, after the separation, Jean-Luc had seen her tears, sadness and despair. At times Jean-Luc had tried to take on the role of the man in her life, wanting to do things for her, to be with her. Jacqui knew it was too heavy a burden for a young boy who adored his mother. And then she had moved away, and this had hurt him. As she well knew, sons and their mothers had a uniquely close relationship in France. And that was why it was frequently said, Couche-toi avec qui tu veux mais marie-toi dans ton village, which roughly translated meant, Sleep with whoever you want, but marry someone from within your own village. Jacqui had tried to challenge this maxim – her now ex-husband had married someone not only from a different town but a different country! – with unfortunate results.

  Enough. She caught Jean-Luc’s quizzical look.

  Jacqui smiled at him fondly. ‘Perhaps, sometimes. What about you, did you enjoy your ride in that amazing car?’

  ‘It was fantastique! We drove all around Broome, out to Cable Beach, back to the port and up Kennedy Hill, then Riley brought me home. He is so easy to talk to. He wanted to know about me, my life in France, what I am doing at school. He did not talk about himself at all.’

  ‘Well, that’s nice,’ said Jacqui. ‘He did seem to be very modest about his successes when we spoke last night.’

  ‘Riley told me he thought the whole of the West Australian coast was really interesting, and he wanted to see more of it. He even asked me to recommend some local attractions.’

  ‘Really? Well, that’s great. What do you have in mind?’

  He lifted his shoulders. ‘I suppose Hidden Beach, or seeing the dinosaur footprints. I don’t think he wants to see a pearl farm. Maman, I am not sure what to recommend. I like it here, but I don’t know Broome as well as you do.’

  ‘I haven’t seen all that much either. Shall I ask Lydia what she thinks?’

  ‘Yes, please. She has good ideas.’

  Jacqui quickly rang her friend and explained the problem.

  ‘Let me speak to Jean-Luc,’ Lydia replied. ‘I have an idea that he might like.’

  Jacqui gave Jean-Luc the phone and went to finish getting ready for work. She was about to set out for the bookshop when Jean-Luc reappeared, looking pleased.

  ‘That Lydia is super, Maman. She suggested taking Riley and me up to Beagle Bay, where her family is having a big party, or something like that. She’ll talk to you.’

  ‘Well, that sounds great. I’d forgotten Lydia had that event coming up. I won’t be able to come because it’s too close to the festival, but that doesn’t matter. It will be pretty rugged, very basic up there.’

  ‘I think that’s what Riley would like. And Lydia said there’s going to be music. One of her cousins is in a band that was famous once. And they are going to play football. She said there was going to be a big competition.’

  ‘Slow down, darling. Are you sure this is something Riley wants to do? He won’t be able to take the Porsche, it isn’t his, remember. He and Colin are only bringing it up for someone else.’

  ‘I’m sure he will want to come, when he finds out. And Lydia said she will arrange transport. It sounds like it’s going to be a fun time.’

  ‘It does sound great. Who else is going?’

  ‘Lydia said it would only be her people there.’

&nb
sp; ‘Then it’s a very special invitation, although even if it’s just Lydia’s people, there will be lots of them. She is part of a very big extended family. All right, as soon as I get to work I’ll ring Riley and suggest all of this. As you say, I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance.’

  *

  Jacqui looked at the stacks of books for the writers’ festival in her overflowing storeroom. She began to think she might need more helpers to assist her when she moved the stock to the festival site. Perhaps she could get some of Jean-Luc’s mates to pitch in. She couldn’t do it by herself.

  Wondering what to do, she went back out into the shop to help Sylvia and found Cameron leaning against the front desk.

  ‘Hello, Jacqui,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Gosh, Cameron. This is a surprise! How come you’re back in town? Are you here for the festival?’

  ‘Festival? What sort of festival? Bongos, drums and marching girls?’

  ‘Is that your kind of a festival? No, it’s a writers’ festival. Perhaps not quite your thing. Do you read much?’ she asked, waiting for him to make a snide comment.

  ‘Do you mean other than reports and fiscal spreadsheets? Actually, I do. I always carry a book in my briefcase when I travel.’

  ‘Really? You surprise me. I thought you’d be an ebook kind of reader. Are you just passing through again?’

  ‘Maybe. Trying to catch up with an associate. I was hoping to pin you down to that home-cooked dinner you promised.’

  ‘Sorry, Cameron, I do need a bit of notice. At present, I’m in a tailspin getting hundreds of books ready for the festival. I have to unpack them, count them, then put them back into their boxes so that I can move them over to the mini bookshop at the festival. Then, when I get them all over to the site, I have to unpack them again and arrange them all in alphabetical order so that people can find them easily. Sylvia, my offsider, has to stay here in the shop, so I’ll be pretty busy doing all the rest of it myself!’

  Cameron raised an eyebrow and gave a low whistle. ‘You’re right. It does sound crazy. I’d like to help, but you know, places to go, people to meet.’