The Lost Summers of Driftwood

by Vanessa McCausland

  Camilla made a loud scoffing sound that reminded Phoebe of their mother. ‘You think I don’t want to abandon my life?’ She laughed maniacally. ‘Every second of every day. I’m the one who’s jealous, of your freedom. Do you realise how frantic I am all the time? If I slip up for an instant the whole thing will come crashing down—the business, the kids, my marriage.’

  Phoebe paused. She’d never thought about Camilla wanting to abandon anything. She’d always seemed so capable, so strong. It seemed impossible that Camilla was jealous of her. Phoebe’s voice was softer now. ‘At least you have all those things.’

  ‘Would you like some help with those?’ Their dad flashed Phoebe a hopeful smile and reached for the plates.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ she snapped, then grimaced at her own tone. ‘Sorry.’ She put down the plates. ‘Dad, you shouldn’t let Mum push you around so much. I know you don’t like conflict but—’

  Camilla made a disbelieving sound. ‘Geez, any more hurtful home truths you’d like to share with us today, Phoebe?’

  It felt impossible to stop now. Now that she’d started telling the truth, it was as though a tight place in her chest had expanded. It felt good, powerful. ‘Yes, actually, there is something else.’ She glanced at her dad, wincing a little. ‘I don’t believe Karin killed herself. Dad just wants to leave it alone, as usual, but I can’t, not if I’m being honest. I just can’t. There are too many things.’

  Camilla shook her head slowly, obviously struggling to absorb so much in one hit. She was about to speak when there was a loud voice around the side of the house. Phoebe recognised it immediately.

  The Texan appeared holding a container full of leafy greens and a few of his prize potatoes. ‘And here I was thinking Phoebe might be lonely.’

  She felt her cheeks redden. She wondered how much he’d heard. But despite the awkward look on his face, Phoebe felt like hugging him; she’d missed his jovial good-natured presence in her life. ‘This is Tex. This is my dad, Peter, and my sister Camilla.’

  Camilla’s face lit up and she arranged the bangles on her arm. She was clearly thrilled to have a distraction from all the emotional talk. ‘You’re from Texas then, I assume?’

  ‘I’m told my accent will never let me forget it, so I figured why not just go with the flow, as you Aussies might say. Retired Texan banker and cattle farmer who now devotes himself to the garden.’

  ‘And the kitchen. He’s a wonderful cook,’ said Phoebe.

  ‘How interesting,’ said Camilla, reaching for the box of vegetables.

  ‘No, he doesn’t grow kale,’ Phoebe said dryly.

  Camilla shot her a withering look but it had a nip of playfulness at its tail. It was the first time either of them had admitted their vulnerabilities to each other. Phoebe wondered if maybe their relationship might have the capacity to change or whether the same dynamic would just reappear, over and over, as it so often did with siblings.

  ‘We’re not using up all my produce with one less mouth to feed, and you know that breaks my heart,’ said the Texan.

  Phoebe wondered if he and Wendy had suspected anything since her sudden disappearance from their daily routine. She tried to sound light. ‘I’ve had Dad here, and Camilla arrived today.’

  ‘Well, you must all come over for dinner. We have lots of vegies to use up.’

  Phoebe felt jittery at the thought. There was no way she could handle seeing Asha after their encounter the day before, the tension would be unbearable. Her temples began to throb in anticipation. Camilla shot her a sidelong look and Phoebe could see her sister’s mind working. She knew what she wanted. As much as it hurt her to let Camilla win, it was a better outcome than having to go to Driftwood. It would be easier on her turf. In truth, it would be easier the more people were here. She rolled her eyes and gave a small shrug of defeat.

  ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ said Camilla. ‘We were just planning a casual barbecue.’ She looked at Phoebe for approval, choosing her words carefully. ‘We were thinking tomorrow night?’

  ‘It’s the anniversary of my eldest daughter’s death today,’ their dad added.

  The Texan lowered his head, picked up a potato and rubbed its dusty skin in his hands. ‘Jez did mention that. Sorry to hear.’ His mouth flattened into a line of sympathy. ‘Well, I thought Phoebe might need cheering up, but a barbecue sounds great. I’ll bring along some salads.’

  ‘Will Jez and Tommy be around?’ asked Camilla. ‘I haven’t seen them in forever. They were like brothers when we were young.’

  The Texan chewed at the end of a twig of lemongrass. ‘Yeah, I think Tommy and Jenna will be down this afternoon as usual, and Jez and Asha should be around.’

  ‘That’s settled then. Why doesn’t everyone come, anytime from what, 5 or 6 pm?’ Camilla hesitated for a moment. ‘Or, what time do you think, Phoebe?’

  She shot her sister a look. It was the first time in their lives Camilla had ever deferred to her, small as the gesture was. ‘Six sounds great to me.’

  When the Texan had left they went inside to wash up, but not before Camilla had located a pair of hitherto undiscovered rubber gloves to protect her manicure. Phoebe wasn’t sure if her questioning of Karin’s death had been forgotten in the avalanche of memories from their childhood or whether Camilla was avoiding it. Before Camilla could ask, Phoebe just said it. ‘And in case you’re wondering, yes, Camilla, you may as well invite the rest of the neighbours, too.’

  There was no magnificent sunset. Didn’t the earth know what today meant? What had the sky looked like that night, one year ago? Had it been scarlet-torn, as though the fabric of the earth had been ripped away to reveal a glimpse of heaven, or had it been dull and low and grey, like tonight? Phoebe couldn’t bear thinking about Karin’s final moments, the last glimpse of sky she’d seen. Birth and death were both shrouded in the same cloak. They happened to us all but there was no real language to express the physical brutality of either. They were left for those hazy unknown places where dreams and nightmares took us.

  She heard footsteps on the jetty behind her and turned. Camilla was holding two glasses of wine. They’d eaten fish and chips from the Bay on the deck earlier, licking the salt and lemon from their fingers. She and Camilla had opened a bottle of white wine and their dad had drunk the rest of the beer. They’d toasted Karin and remembered small things. She’d loved fish and chips and prawns, but hated hamburgers and Chinese food. She loved wearing hats and had one for every occasion. She discovered eyeliner at the age of fifteen and with the realisation that it made her look exotic, had worn it, always. She hated avocados. She would pick up a spider in her hand but was creeped out by frogs. There were so many small things that made up a person. Talking about them made her seem almost alive again.

  But now Phoebe felt the full heaviness of what today actually meant. Wine and company were exactly what she needed. A rush of affection for Camilla took her by surprise. They clinked their glasses together gently, a silent toast to their absent sister. Phoebe was about to apologise for fighting when Camilla spoke.

  ‘I went up the road to check my texts. Mum sent one. It was a bit cryptic, and half of it was about one of our clients, but I think she was basically saying she felt sad not to be here.’

  Phoebe let a puff of air escape her lips. ‘Well, I guess that’s a big deal coming from Mum.’

  Camilla bumped her hip against Phoebe’s. ‘Listen, Dad and I have been talking. We’re both worried about you.’

  Phoebe felt the small hairs on her neck rise. It had always been Karin and Phoebe against the rest of the family, and it felt the same now. She stiffened. ‘I know what you’re going to say. That I’ve had too much time to think down here. Yes, that’s probably true, but it’s more than that.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got to admit, you went from such a busy, exciting life to . . .’

  ‘To what? This boring old place?’ Phoebe drew a few deep breaths. She wasn’t going to get angry again. Sometimes it felt talking to Cam
illa was like talking to a small child, explaining things that perhaps they had never considered properly or had the emotional maturity to manage before.

  ‘I’ve come to love it here. Karin loved it here. You’ll see that when you meet people.’ Phoebe looked at her sister in the darkening air. She was wrapped up in layers of cream cashmere, her hair tucked into a grey, loose-knit beanie. She looked like she should be in a magazine. Phoebe’s own hoodie and jeans would have once made her feel inferior; now she realised she no longer cared. ‘Things are simpler here, if you let them be,’ she said.

  She could feel Camilla’s eyes on her. Strangely, she didn’t feel judgement, but something gentler.

  ‘Okay, Phee, I’m listening. You think, what? The police got it wrong? Karin died by accident instead of suicide? Or someone killed her?’

  When it was said so harshly out loud it sounded ridiculous, like the daylight recounting of a dream that had seemed so real moments before in your head. But Phoebe said simply what she had always believed. ‘Yes. Maybe . . .’

  ‘We both know how careful Karin was around water and besides, she left a suicide note. And if some misadventure befell her . . . I mean, who would do something like that?’

  ‘Karin was seeing someone. I’m sure of it.’ Phoebe tried to calm her voice, her thoughts, so as not to overwhelm and scare Camilla off.

  ‘Her note, the flowers they found up in the house. They said, “I’m sorry”. But what if they didn’t mean “I’m sorry for leaving you all and killing myself.” What if they were for someone specific, an apology of some sort? And Karin had used Grandma’s vintage champagne glasses right before she died. Dad found one at the bottom of the river, and the other is missing. Why was she using two glasses?’

  ‘But how would we ever know? If the police couldn’t know, how could we? And if she was seeing someone, surely there’d be some evidence. Phone calls, emails, something more than missing champagne glasses, or whatever. She would have told you, for a start.’

  Phoebe waited a moment, steeling herself before going on. ‘It’s not only me. Ginny next door thought Karin was seeing someone. She rang Karin late one night when she was away for the weekend and woke her up. She heard a man talking next to her. Why would she be with a man late at night having just woken up? Why wouldn’t she tell me about him? Why would there be no evidence anywhere of him? And why didn’t she tell me she went away every few weekends? The only conclusion I can come to was that she was having an affair. It’s the only reason she wouldn’t have told me any of this.’

  Camilla laughed, disbelievingly. ‘Karin, having an affair? What, all secretive . . . with a married man or something? Yeah, right. How is that any more likely than her committing suicide?’

  ‘Love.’ Phoebe was glad the night had wrapped them close and Camilla couldn’t read her expression.

  ‘Oh, still . . . Karin was so not the type to get into something grubby.’

  The word felt like a slap. It was hard to hear the truth, that this was how other people inevitably viewed an affair. They didn’t care about the feelings involved, the complications, the subtleties. There were no subtleties, there were only lies and deception when you looked objectively. She too might have once thought it impossible that Karin had hidden a secret lover. Now she knew it wasn’t. Perhaps everyone was capable of it, given the right—or wrong—circumstances. ‘Maybe it didn’t feel grubby, maybe it felt like she couldn’t help it,’ said Phoebe.

  ‘Oh, people can always help it.’ Camilla crossed her arms in front of her and her mouth drew tight. ‘You have no idea how little things can set your mind spinning. I mean, I trust Rich, I do, but I’m just being practical. He’s an attractive man. He earns good money, and you know what? I get scared sometimes. When you have kids, it’s not just yourself you’re looking out for. Sometimes the pressure feels huge to keep looking young, so he won’t, I don’t know, run off with his secretary.’ She took off her beanie and ran her fingers through her hair.

  Phoebe cocked her head. ‘Really? You worry about Rich?’ Phoebe thought these were the worries that happened to other less confident women than her sister.

  ‘Of course. Why do you think that every nanny I’ve ever hired is either old or unattractive?’

  Phoebe scoffed. ‘The nanny. That’s such a cliché.’

  ‘It’s a cliché for a reason, Phee Phee. Let me tell you, I have friends who are living out the cliché right now, while their former nanny lives the high life with the father of their children.’ Camilla shivered and linked arms with Phoebe. It felt surprisingly nice to be this close to her sister.

  ‘What about hot friends, are you wary of them, too?’ asked Phoebe, enjoying seeing Camilla’s more human side.

  ‘Yes and no. You know I’m drawn to beautiful people, so that’s most of my friends.’

  They both laughed. ‘And then of course there’s your stunning sisters,’ said Phoebe, before she realised she’d used the plural again.

  Camilla squeezed her arm. Her voice was softer now. ‘Karin was more beautiful than both of us put together, wasn’t she? How many men fell in love with her and how many did she reject? I guess it’s not impossible that someone got obsessed with her, or a married man fell in love with her and she was too ashamed to tell anyone, to tell you, but say in some distant universe what you’re saying is true, what are we going to do? Rock up to the police station insisting they find her secret lover, who somehow knows something about her death? Just because she might have been having an affair doesn’t mean that person had anything to do with her death. Can’t we just let her rest in peace? Today of all days. Here of all places.’

  Phoebe’s heart was hammering as she looked out across the dark water. A lone cry echoed around them and Phoebe felt Camilla move closer. They watched a crane glide, white against the night sky, and settle silently on the surface.

  ‘Okay, that’s kind of spooky,’ Camilla whispered.

  Tears filled Phoebe’s eyes and she smiled. ‘And I haven’t even told you about my dreams. Karin won’t let me abandon her, Camilla. We’re bound by this river and she’s here but she didn’t want to be. She didn’t want to abandon us.’

  PART FOUR

  King Tide

  THEN

  When Camilla saw the gun she screamed. The dog started barking down below and somewhere a flock of cockatoos took flight, their screeches echoing through the trees.

  Karin’s heart was hammering. She grabbed her little sister gently by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes, which were filling with tears. ‘It’s okay, Cammie.’ She glanced at Phoebe. ‘Why don’t you go outside onto the balcony and see if you can spot any animals?’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ said Camilla, but she let Phoebe lead her outside the treehouse.

  She knew Camilla would be too proud to let Phoebe take her back down to the ground, but Karin didn’t want to leave Tommy here with the gun.

  ‘We should just leave it here,’ she said. ‘It might not even have bullets in it. Just don’t touch it. You shouldn’t have touched it.’

  Tommy shrugged and squirmed. ‘Well, I had to see if it was heavy. If it was real.’

  Karin resisted the urge to reach out and touch it herself. She had never seen a gun in real life before. It was as black as a beetle and looked exactly like in the movies, but bigger than she expected a real-life gun to be. Even though her heart was racing, there was also another feeling in her body—excitement. She felt like they were true adventurers, in the middle of nowhere, with a gun. The most they usually found on their treks into the bush were things like half-smoked cigarettes, and once they found a lighter and a bucket filled with used fireworks.

  ‘Has Jez seen it?’

  ‘Yeah, he wanted to try firing it.’

  Karin rolled her eyes. Jez never took anything seriously.

  ‘What was that scream?’ asked Jez, his head sticking into the cabin. He was breathless from climbing the tree fast.

  ‘Just Cammie,’ said Phoebe, shooting Je
z a look.

  ‘Well, it’s pretty freaky here,’ Camilla said, sucking on her bottom lip. ‘Mum and Dad wouldn’t want us being here with guns and rude magazines.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s kind of cool though,’ said Jez, a cheeky smile on his face. ‘Hey, I saw two guys walking through the bush as I was climbing.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Tommy, his jaw dropping and his face going pale. ‘What—towards us? Did they see you? Are they coming this way?’

  Jez shrugged. ‘They were quite a long way away. It was hard to tell.’

  Karin felt all the blood drain from her body now. The strange men. This was probably their hideout. It was probably their gun. Her heart was beating loud in her ears and the silly song Camilla had been humming on the picnic rug was going through her brain on a loop.

  Tommy’s eyes locked onto hers and he whispered to her. ‘Can you make sure no one touches the gun? I’m going to have a look. This could be their place.’

  She nodded and swallowed hard. She tried to ignore the fear spiking under her ribs. She wished they were still sitting on the grass at the picnic area making daisy chains. She wished she’d been more responsible for her younger sisters.

  Tommy pushed his way out of the cabin and she could hear his footsteps pacing the wooden planks.

  He stuck his head back in. He was breathless. ‘Everyone down. Now. And be quiet.’

  ‘Why do we have to be quiet?’ asked Camilla, her face red and tear-stained.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Phoebe asked, her eyes large with worry.

  ‘There are some men coming and we need to get down from here. But it’s going to be fine.’

  Phoebe gasped. She grabbed her younger sister’s hand. ‘You’re right, it’s totally gross here, Cammie. I’m starving. I wonder if there’s any more food? Let’s go back to Driftwood and make a cake.’

  ‘There’s no more food. Jez ate it all,’ said Camilla, but she followed Phoebe to the ladder.