The Lost Summers of Driftwood

by Vanessa McCausland

  She looked into his eyes. The wash of sadness had retreated. ‘Jez, I won’t abandon you again, I promise.’

  He hugged her to him as they walked back down the beach. ‘I don’t know what it’s going to look like, I just know that I need you in my life. I don’t care, I’ll move to Sydney to be with you. Whatever it takes.’

  She threaded her cold fingers through his warm ones. ‘You know, I don’t even think I want to be in Sydney anymore. I don’t miss it at all. Thank you, though, for offering to shift your whole life for me, but I love it here, the river, the space. Living feels simpler.’

  ‘Your seventeen-year-old self would be rolling her eyes.’

  ‘I know, but what can I say? I’ve changed. I don’t know what my plans are exactly, but I just can’t seem to leave. I wonder why?’ She looked into his eyes and he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

  ‘Well, let’s just take everything slowly,’ he said. ‘It’s going to be hard, with Asha. I don’t want to abandon her, but I don’t want to give her false hope either. I’ve been lying to myself and to her for so long, and I can’t do it anymore. I don’t know if she can either. There’s too much resentment. I think she knows we can’t keep doing this.’

  ‘You need to talk to her. Be honest, Jez. She deserves that, she’s not stupid.’ Phoebe squeezed his hand. ‘I think you need to go back to the hospital when you’ve both calmed down and have a proper talk.’

  ‘She’s already told me she’s never coming back to Driftwood. I feel terrible. It’s her home.’

  Phoebe shook her head. ‘What a mess. She’s lost so much.’

  Jez looked out over the darkening ocean, his eyes sad. ‘I know. I wish everything was different. I wish I’d had the courage to confront our issues instead of letting it get to this.’

  ‘I think you both just wanted a baby so badly,’ said Phoebe. ‘And you wanted to make each other happy.’

  Jez sighed. ‘Maybe once upon a time we did, yeah.’

  ‘What are Tommy and Jenna going to make of all this?’ Phoebe cringed. ‘And how will they be, do you think, when they find out about us?’

  ‘Well, they’ve had their own . . .’ He trailed off, eyes gazing seaward. ‘He’d hate me talking about it.’

  ‘What?’ Phoebe’s pulse quickened.

  ‘There was something. Jenna never knew, but Tommy didn’t cope very well with Harry’s diagnosis. Not that he ever confided in me directly, but I think he might have been distracted momentarily by . . . the possibility of something, or someone else.’

  She stumbled in the sand, the looseness in her body tightening. His hand was under her arm. ‘What makes you think that?’ she choked out.

  ‘You know Tommy, always got everything and everyone sorted. He never spoke in details. I just knew there was a bit of a struggle, and it wasn’t just over Harry.’

  Phoebe managed to hide the tremble in her voice. ‘Another woman? An affair?’

  Jez shot her a look and Phoebe felt its meaning ricochet through her.

  ‘You’ve got cold hands,’ Jez said, blowing onto her fingers.

  ‘So Tommy had an affair?’ she asked again. But Jez looked away, unwilling to elaborate. Of course he wouldn’t—his allegiance would always be to Tommy. Phoebe swatted at the thoughts that buzzed in her ears, nipped at her mind. Had Tommy had an affair with Karin while he was running from his pain? A familiar face, a shared history full of nostalgia and happiness. A panacea. Phoebe knew how that felt. The man asleep beside Karin, had it been Tommy? Jenna’s complaints about Tommy’s job not being family friendly. He would have had plenty of time to slip in meeting up with someone else. But Tommy and Karin? It wasn’t possible, surely. Karin was too old-fashioned for him; he was too controlling. Tommy liked women who were gentle and amenable like Jenna, not independent like her sister.

  Maybe she was fumbling blindly for meaning where there was none. Had she projected her own guilt over her affair with Jez onto Karin? Perhaps imagining her sister was capable of an affair had eased her own shame. She thought about how fortune tellers so often gave a generic story, which people were willing to stretch to fit their own reality. If you looked hard enough sometimes you could find evidence for your own beliefs.

  They reached the car park just as the wind began to howl, the shadows gathering around them. Phoebe looked at Jez, his hair full of sand, his tired eyes, and her heart squeezed. ‘How do you feel?’ she asked.

  ‘Relief . . . love . . . hope . . . sadness.’

  She brushed his cheek with her thumb. ‘Me too. You’re a good man, Jez. I know you don’t feel it right now but you are. Go and talk to Asha. Work things out with her.’

  He kissed her tenderly. ‘I don’t feel it. But thank you for saying that. I know you have the party . . . for Karin . . . but . . .’

  ‘No, go, go.’ She got into her car.

  He waited, hands in his pockets, shuffling off the cold while Phoebe drove off. Her mind was full of everything that had just happened. She’d made love to Jez. He’d told her Tommy had had an affair. And every fibre of her body was telling her it had been with her sister.

  CHAPTER 22

  Phoebe found Camilla in the kitchen taking quiches out of the oven.

  ‘Oh my God, there you are,’ Camilla said, adjusting the apron around her waist. ‘There are so many people here already. Where have you been?’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve . . . too hard to explain,’ Phoebe said, tugging Camilla’s elbow. ‘Can I have a quick word with you?’

  ‘Hang on. I just want to get these quiches out to people while they’re hot.’

  ‘Camilla, please. It’s important.’

  Camilla huffed and put the plate down, grabbing her glass of wine.

  Phoebe led her into Karin’s old room. She sat on her sister’s bed and Camilla sat next to her. ‘I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘What? What’s happened?’

  Phoebe took a deep breath then grabbed Camilla’s wine and took a big sip. ‘I just had a conversation with Jez and I don’t know how it came up but he confided that Tommy had an affair.’

  ‘Tommy cheated on his wife?’

  ‘When he was struggling with Harry’s autism diagnosis, which I think would have been about eighteen months to two years ago . . .’ She gave Camilla a pointed look.

  ‘What? You think it was with Karin?’ Camilla took back the wineglass.

  ‘The timing would make sense. It would make sense. The man Ginny heard on the phone, it could have been Tommy. They came into contact with each other—Jenna mentioned they saw Karin at a coffee festival in Canberra one time.’

  Camilla pressed her fingers to her mouth. ‘One time though . . . Did you say anything about Karin to Jez?’

  ‘No, of course not. He wouldn’t even elaborate on it. You know how he and Tommy are.’

  ‘I don’t know, Phee. I mean, it’s possible but . . .’ she screwed up her mouth. ‘What are we going to do? Go out there and ask Tommy if he was sleeping with our sister?’

  ‘No, I know we can’t just ask him.’

  ‘Well then, how are we ever going to know?’

  Their dad stuck his head around the door then and they both jumped. ‘Oh my God, you scared me, Dad,’ said Phoebe.

  ‘Come on you two, you’re needed. I know it’s a sad occasion but you tell that to these country folk. I haven’t got nearly enough beer or sausages.’

  Camilla squeezed Phoebe’s arm and they followed their dad out onto the deck. The lights they’d strung up earlier glowed in the evening air and candles flickered on the table.

  There were the familiar faces of people in the street. People who existed nameless on Phoebe’s periphery, but whose consistency made them comforting. There was the man who was always hosing his garden no matter what time of day she passed. The old couple who sat on their veranda drinking tea from a yellow teapot and reading the papers. The lady who was always washing her car and Ginny and Chester. Some of them gave her hand a squeeze of recognition, o
thers seemed there for the free feed and because Camilla was such a persuasive force. No one from Driftwood had arrived yet. Phoebe’s stomach churned in anticipation.

  Her dad brought an armchair out for Ginny, placing it near the potbelly stove on the deck. Steffi sat steadfastly by her side, ears pricked for movement, eyes alert. Phoebe felt like the dog. She offered Ginny punch in a plastic cup and apologised for not visiting her this week. She wished she could confide in her about Karin and Tommy but Ginny seemed quieter than usual, distracted. Perhaps she was overwhelmed by the noise of children racing in the yard, or the sausages and onion sizzling on the barbecue behind her. She seemed not the wise and thoughtful woman who had raised all those questions about Karin, but a slightly puzzled, old blind lady. Doubts started to niggle in Phoebe, like a forgotten item on a mental shopping list.

  There were people who could go through life ignoring their inner niggles, and others who lived by them. Phoebe was neither. She never quite knew whether her instincts were true or mere anxieties. They felt like perched birds waiting for seed. If she made too much noise they would take flight and never return. So she approached them cautiously, neither feeding them nor sending them away.

  Tommy appeared suddenly, little hands looped around his neck, carrying his son and an esky. Jenna walked a little in front of them, nursing a bowl of salad, her head bowed as though deep in thought. Phoebe had felt so strongly when Jez had hinted about Tommy’s affair, but now seeing him before her with his family there was only doubt. How could Tommy really have cheated on Jenna, especially given what they’d been through with Harry? Or had a beautiful, dark-haired lover on a quiet river taken the pain away? Had their easy way with each other, a leftover from childhood, turned into something more? Had they smoked joints together on the deck? Drunk champagne together on the jetty? Gone away on weekends? Or was it all just a story, perched on the line of her mind, about to take flight?

  Before being in love with a married man, Phoebe had held everyone up to her own chaste standards. Life had seemed more like a chess board: you landed in a black or a white square, and you had a choice about where you landed. It was a matter of good, or bad. Now she knew about the other pawns that were off to the side of the board. She knew about all those places on the board where the squares had rubbed off from daily wear. She found it harder to condemn Tommy knowing the places of the heart she knew now. But if he had been Karin’s lover, if she was right about that, what did that mean for the way Karin had died? It felt like there was a whole new meaning, hidden just under the surface. And yet he was here, knowing this gathering was to remember Karin.

  She hung back as Camilla greeted Tommy. He placed Harry on the ground with the careful grace of a good father. His face broke into a smile that crinkled his tanned cheeks as he touched Camilla’s elbow, kissed her cheek. Jenna came alive too as Tommy and Camilla made hand gestures between them. It was clear they were explaining their history. Everyone laughed as Camilla made a joke.

  Phoebe caught Camilla’s eye as she knelt to be introduced to Harry, who was clinging to the fabric of Jenna’s pants. Jenna carefully prised Harry from her leg, handing him into Tommy’s care, and came over.

  She offered a sad smile. ‘It must be so lovely to have your sister here, today of all days.’

  ‘It is.’ Phoebe tried to arrange her face into a normal expression but the muscles around her mouth would not comply. She couldn’t stand the feelings competing inside her right now—how lovely Jenna was, how helpless Harry was. The things she thought his father, her husband, capable of.

  Tommy came over then, Harry on his hip, his face buried in his father’s T-shirt. ‘Say hello to Phoebe. You know Phoebe.’

  Tommy leaned in and gave Phoebe a peck on the cheek. Her heartbeat was elevated, her senses on high alert. He smelled of soap and coffee. He’s a regular guy, Phoebe thought. What on earth am I thinking?Maybe Jez is mistaken about the affair.

  ‘Hi, mister,’ she said to Harry, watching as Tommy adjusted the boy on his hip.

  ‘You’re getting too big for all this carrying,’ he said.

  ‘He’s adorable. He reminds me of my little boy, who’s quite shy,’ said Camilla.

  ‘Ha. You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen him this morning.’ Tommy shook his head slowly.

  ‘We couldn’t find his red train,’ said Jenna, ‘and God help us, we usually have about three of them stashed around the place. They’re his security blanket.’ She exchanged a look with Tommy. ‘Well, more than that. He can’t function without it. But do you think we could find even one at 5.30 am?’ Jenna shook her head. She had purple smudges under her eyes. ‘Tommy had to go into the Bay and buy one as soon as everything opened.’ Jenna stiffened slightly. ‘Babe, you did bring it, didn’t you?’

  ‘It’s in my pocket.’

  ‘Oh, thank Christ.’ Jenna pressed a hand against her chest. ‘I couldn’t go through that again today.’

  Phoebe watched Tommy as he held his son. His face looked tired but his laughter came easily. There was nothing in his person to suggest the kinds of things Phoebe was silently accusing him of. She tried to remember how he’d been as a kid. He’d been the boss, that was for sure, competitive with his brother, but that was normal. Had there been any suggestion of something between him and Karin? They were the eldest and that probably linked them in a way. She didn’t remember them sharing any particular friendship over and above what they all shared, as a group. She tried to think about the last time they would have seen each other as kids. Their last ever family holiday.

  An image came to her of the four of them—her, Karin and the two boys. They had covered themselves with a bottle of olive oil from the kitchen and were frying in the sun on the jetty. She remembered feeling self-conscious lying there, Jez’s calf warm against hers. She must have been sixteen, Karin seventeen. It was the summer she and Jez had first made love. She could still remember the way his shoulders glistened in the sun. She had confided all her lovesick feelings to Karin. Surely if there had been something with Tommy, Karin would have confided in her? But Karin had always been the most self-possessed of the three of them. She was a listener rather than a talker. She had never been attracted to type-A personalities.

  Tommy had managed to pass Harry into the care of the Texan and Wendy, who had just arrived. They sat with him on the step, making funny faces, which momentarily transfixed Harry. Jenna and Camilla had peeled off from the group near the punch bowl. Phoebe found herself standing next to Tommy. She didn’t know what to do with her hands and her throat felt tight. She wished she had a drink, and was about to excuse herself to go help with the barbecue, when he spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry, about today. You know, about Karin.’

  He said her name softly, with more deference than Phoebe thought him capable. He had not mentioned her sister’s death before now. They had never really had a proper conversation, one on one.

  Phoebe had to clear her throat before she could speak. ‘Oh, that’s okay.’ She cringed. Why had she said that? ‘I mean, thanks. Thanks for coming.’

  He opened his mouth as though to say something else, but then he must have thought better of it and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Well, I’d better go find something for the little monster to eat.’

  ‘Oh, sure, yeah. We’ve got plenty of sausages. I know how he likes his sausages.’

  ‘Sure does.’

  She watched Tommy move towards the barbecue and shake a neighbour’s hand. He picked up a paper plate and a serviette. Phoebe’s gut was churning; the birds in her mind were in riot.

  Somewhere down near the river bank she heard the sound of someone yelling. Two of the older neighbourhood children arrived on the deck, red-faced and bright-eyed.

  ‘The jetty’s gone,’ they said in unison. ‘It’s a king tide. The jetty’s gone.’

  Phoebe looked towards the voices and all she could see was the river giving up its secrets.

  The music had been turned up and there were more people,
not less as the night went on. The whole street had turned out. Phoebe smiled at the sight of a man with a massive beer belly swaying to the music with his eyes closed. Someone had obviously found Karin’s record player and the strains of Don McLean’s ‘American Pie’ echoed through the dark trees. Karin would have loved this.

  The deck was strewn with plastic cups and there were empty beer bottles on every surface. Phoebe picked up an abandoned bottle of red wine and took a large swig, and then another. She was drunk. Drinking wine seemed to be the only solution to everything she’d been through in the past few hours. She moved towards the fire her dad had lit in an old tin drum on the grass and saw the Texan holding court. He was in his element. Wendy had obviously gotten sick of listening to the same old stories and gone home.

  Phoebe spotted Tommy inside the house talking to her dad, an expression of worry on his face. She walked into the kitchen.

  ‘Jenna’s had to take Harry home to bed, but I really need to find it,’ Tommy was saying.

  ‘Are you sure you brought it? Maybe it’s at your place,’ her dad said.

  Tommy made a face. ‘Yeah, no, I definitely brought it. I always do.’

  Her dad nodded solemnly. ‘Could it have dropped out of your pocket? Maybe retrace your steps from the front gate.’

  ‘I did that.’

  ‘Have you lost your phone?’ Phoebe asked.

  Tommy looked tired. He nodded and blinked his eyes, as though trying to focus on her properly.

  The landline phone on the table screamed to life, making Phoebe jump. She was right next to it, so she picked it up. It hardly ever rang.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Phoebe, is that you? Is Tommy still there?’ Jenna was speaking quickly.

  ‘Yes, he’s right here.’

  ‘Oh good, can you put him on please?’

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Just Harry stuff. Can’t get him to sleep. He’s screaming, beside himself. We stayed at the party too late.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. I hope he settles. Here’s Tommy.’