by Lilly Mirren
“That’s good,” he said.
He hated to think what it must be like for Brad and Meg, going through what they were. It wasn’t something anyone should have to experience at such a young age.
The doorbell rang and Petal scampered off down the hall to bark at whoever dared to stand on the doorstep. Cindy hurried after her, soon returning arm in arm with Emily. Ethan’s smile tightened. She wore an emerald green slip dress that accentuated her lithe figure, her grey eyes were highlighted by a light dusting of smoky makeup and a single silver disk hung on a silver chain around her tanned neck.
“Everyone,” began Cindy, “This is Emily Jones, she’s our new neighbour.”
Sarah hurried forward and embraced Emily. “Emily it’s so good to see you again. It’s been an absolute age.”
Mick shook her hand, followed by Athol. She sat next to Ethan on the couch as everyone peppered her with questions and exclaimed over what had happened with the Manor. She glanced his way, their eyes connecting, and nodded.
“Hello, Ethan,” she said.
“Good to see you again, Emily.”
Then her attention was taken up again by the rest of the family and he watched as quietly and confidently she answered some questions and dodged others. She didn’t lose her cool like she had with him. She was polite, friendly, and seemed happy to talk. He studied her with a furrowed brow, his eyes narrowed. So, she wasn’t rude to everyone, just him. He was right, she must hate him, or be upset with him about something. Though what that could be, was beyond him.
He could test the theory, see if he was imagining things.
“Did you walk through the gate to get here?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Of course. What should I do instead, fly over the fence?”
He cleared his throat and was about to respond, but then Sarah asked her a question about her aunt and uncle. With a warm smile Emily leaned forward and fell into conversation with his sister. No a sign of disdain on her pretty face, no angry turning up of the lips.
He shook his head and went to hide in the kitchen. If he helped mum with the meal, he could avoid Emily for most of the evening. Then he’d only have to deal with her when he ran into her at work. It was a shame they couldn’t get along, but there wasn’t much he could do about it and he wanted to keep their professional relationship in working order, so it seemed the best way to do that was to stay out of her way.
After dinner was done, Ethan and Sarah helped their mum wash and dry the dishes, leaving their guests in the living room discussing whether music had taken a downward turn in creativity and quality in the last two decades, or if it was simply different. He was relieved to hear Emily standing up for his generation’s creativity as he walked away. While they cleaned up, mum and Sarah engaged in a conversation that only required the occasional nod or grunt of assent from him. So he allowed his thoughts to wander.
He considered what he’d do when the time came for him to get a job. He’d had a nest egg to back him up but most of that had gone into securing the loan for his investment in the Manor. He had a few more weeks, but after that he’d have to find work. The idea of returning to Brisbane put a stone in his gut. He was loving being back in the Cove, but there was very little work for an engineer there.
As he put away the last plate, he noticed through the back window that the thick cloud cover from earlier had broken apart and a brilliant moon shone through the partition.
It was stunning.
He set down his dish towel and wiped his hands down the front of his pants as he strode for the back door. If he stood on the porch, he’d get an even better view.
Outside, there was an eerie glow to the landscape. The moon issued a blueish light that gave the world a haunted feeling. Eyes skyward, he walked forward slowly, marvelling at the shape of the clouds as they rolled and twisted, shifting westward on the cool breeze. They covered the moon again for a moment, then it was free, light blazing towards the earth.
That was when he noticed the figure leaned against the porch railing. It was Emily. He slowed his pace, inhaled a deep breath, then joined her.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured.
She startled, then offered him a half smile. “Yes, amazing. I couldn’t stay inside. When I saw it, I had to come — I hope they haven’t missed me yet?”
He shook his head. “No, Athol and Mick are loudly debating the virtues of the eighties hair bands.”
She laughed and the sound lit him up from the inside. She was beautiful when she wasn’t scowling. The worry that lined her face lifted and she looked young and carefree for a single moment.
He leaned against the railing, taking in the beauty of the blue-tinted garden, the bulging clouds, the black outlines of the trees. In the distance, a curlew’s haunting call filled the night air.
“They sound so sad,” said Emily, her voice dripping with sorrow.
“I know, when I was a kid, I always thought I heard someone screaming. Of course, mum would comfort me, tell me it was a bird. I couldn’t imagine how those cartoon looking creatures with long spindly legs, that ran around in the scrub by the beach during the day were the same ones that sounded so terrifying at night.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.
“I know what you mean. I was always scared of possums.”
“What? Really?” He faced her, leaning on one of the posts that supported the porch roof.
“There were a few who lived around the Manor, so when I came to visit, I’d hear them fighting and hissing in the middle of the night. It sounded like some kind of vicious swamp creature or something. I didn’t realise they were possums until I was a teenager and said something to Aunty Di about the noise.” She shook her head. “I’d get so scared I’d hide under the bed with my teddy bear.”
“Wow, I wish I’d known. I could’ve told you what it was, saved you from some of that fear.”
“You would’ve?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“That’s a nice thought, but you didn’t even notice me, back then.”
He frowned. “Yeah, well I was a kid too. I was very focused on surfing, skateboarding, and becoming an iron man. I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant to be an iron man, but I liked the sound of it.”
She laughed, her blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight. “That definitely sounds like you.”
“And what about you, what were your dreams back then?”
She cocked her head to one side, thinking. “I don’t know… I’m not really surprised you didn’t notice me. I was kind of a mousy, timid child. I’d hang around on the edges of your group of friends, Adele was nice to me though, she included me. I didn’t really have dreams of what I’d become, I only knew I wanted a family. I loved my mum, but it wasn’t the same as what you guys had - mum, dad, siblings, BBQs on the weekend. The way you teased each other, but I could always tell you really loved one another… to some extent, I was jealous I guess.”
His eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to open up, and her words made his heart ache for the little girl he’d known. If only he’d realised, had included her more. But he was too busy, too focused on his own life and friendships.
“Well, you’re definitely not mousy and timid now,” he replied, bumping her shoulder with his own.
She chuckled. “I suppose not, although I still feel like that little girl a lot of the time.”
“Well, I’m glad you came back to the Cove. It’s right that you should take over running the Manor. You belong here.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes glimmering. “Thank you for saying that. Sometimes I think…” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Nothing… never mind.”
“No, don’t stop… tell me. I’d love to know what you think because honestly most of the time I have no idea what’s going through that pretty head of yours.”
She turned to face him, eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
He stepped back, thoughts spinning. What had he said to upset h
er? He only meant he wanted to hear her thoughts, find out what was going on inside her brain so they could get along. So he could be there for her.
“I didn’t mean anything… only you tend to keep your thoughts to yourself. If you’d only open up occasionally, share with me what’s going on, what you’re thinking… I think it’d help our relationship…”
“Our relationship?” she questioned with one eyebrow arched.
He swallowed. “You know, professionally.”
“How do I know you won’t broadcast everything I say to the entire town?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Forget it,” she said.
She took a step in the direction of the house, then spun on her heel to look into his eyes. “We work together Ethan, that’s it. You don’t have to pretend like you care, and I’ll keep my thoughts to myself. Deal?”
He nodded, mute.
“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She strode through the back door, it slammed shut behind her, and she was gone. He leaned back against the porch rail with a loud exhale of breath. What’d happened? They were talking, having a nice time, and she’d turned back into the taciturn business partner all over again in a single moment. He shook his head. Working with Emily Jones was going to be more of a challenge than he’d thought it would be.
Chapter 11
Diana
She squinted at the page, wiling her mind to process the words she was reading. Her tired eyes slipped closed briefly as the book slid in her lap. Diana tugged it up higher, turning the page and setting a bookmark in place before shutting the book and placing it on the side table.
Next to her, Rupert snored softly in his armchair. The footrest up, his chair was leaned back and his mouth ajar, his breathing a constant rhythm that filled the silence in their new home.
She glanced around the compact living room. From where she sat, she could see their small kitchen, tiny dining room and the doors to the two bedrooms that made up the entire unit. It was strange to live in a place where her words didn’t echo, and that she could traverse with a few short steps.
She missed the Seaside Manor, but at the same time it was a great relief to her not to have to wake so early, serve breakfast to guests, manage cleaning and maintenance staff, and keep up with such a large building. Already, after only a week of rest, she was feeling much better than she had. She was sleeping better, had taken several long walks on the beach and was onto her second novel.
The only thing bothering her was her conscience. She hated to keep anything from Rupert. Having a secret between them gave her a feeling of loneliness she hadn’t felt since she was a scared teenager. Ever since Rupert first kissed her, he’d chased that loneliness away. Now it was back, knocking on the door to her soul, pushing back the contentment that’d reigned for so long. Nothing stayed hidden forever. And the thought sent a rush of nerves through her body that set her heart pounding.
When her mobile phone rang, she jolted in a panic, then sighed with relief when she realised what it was. She pulled it from her pocket.
“Hello, Cindy, dear, what a pleasant surprise to hear from you.”
“Diana, I miss you already. It’s time you moved back to the Manor,” quipped Cindy.
Diana could hear the pout in her voice. She laughed. “There’s no going back, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t you miss the old place?”
“Yes, of course I do, my garden most of all. Although I’ve started planning out my new garden. I’ve done a sketch of the back yard, Rupert says I can’t turn the entire thing into a garden bed, since he wants to be able to sit out there sometimes. So I’m going to put raised garden beds around the inside of the fence instead.”
“Ah… sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. And I was only joking, I’m happy for you in your new, fancy, retirement community.”
“Will you come for tea soon?” asked Diana.
Cindy’s smile echoed through her voice. “Yes, that would be wonderful. How about tomorrow?”
“Perfect. How are Emily and Ethan going with the Manor?” asked Diana.
Cindy chuckled. “They seem to be working things out. Although there’s a bit of tension between them over something. I asked Ethan about it, but he claims he has no idea what’s going on.”
They chatted about the other members of Cindy’s family, Rupert’s health and caught up on the local gossip. Meanwhile, Rupert roused and wiped his eyes. Diana hung up the phone, smiled at him. “I’m sorry, my dear. Did we wake you?”
He nodded. “Yes, but I don’t mind. The sound of your voice is a wonderful way to wake up. Besides, I’ve slept long enough. I won’t be able to get to sleep tonight if I keep going. This chair is too comfortable.” He chuckled and used a lever to lower the footrest.
Diana had bought him the chair as a surprise gift when they moved in. He’d slept in it every day since.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said.
He stood, leaned to kiss her forehead. “I love it. Although I can’t seem to stay awake in it for more than ten minutes.” He chuckled and lumbered in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m making tea, would you like some?”
“Yes, please.”
Once Rupert was gone, Diana glanced in his direction, then reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. It was wrinkled now, had been folded in half and hidden in her pocket every day for the past week. The handwriting on the front and back was as familiar to her now as her own. She’d read it through so many times, running her finger over the slanting words as she mouthed them.
She couldn’t tell Rupert about it. She hated to hurt him, after so many years. They’d had a wonderful marriage, a full life. He didn’t deserve what she’d done — keeping something from him. It wasn’t like her either, usually she’d share every thought she had with her husband, and he’d interject the occasional sound of support.
How would he react when he found out what she’d done? How she’d held a secret in her heart for so many years? Would it change everything between them? Especially given the way they’d longed for a family and had never been able to have one. He’d never taken his disappointment out on her; he was a good and kind man. The love of her life without a doubt. If only she could go back in time, do things differently. But if she could — what would she change? She shook her head. It was a mess, that was for sure. Still, even if she had a time machine, she wasn’t sure she’d change a thing — except for the dishonesty, the withholding of herself, her heart. That is the one thing she’d do differently. She should’ve come clean back then, to everyone.
She pulled the sheets of paper from the envelope, lay them on her lap with another glance in the direction of the kitchen. Still no sign of Rupert. Hands shaking, she raised the first sheet closer to her face, read through the words.
I think I am your son.
Her heart clenched every time she read those words. She’d never expected to hear from him. So many years she’d wished, hoped he would show up. But he hadn’t. And now… he’d made the connection. It was almost too much.
Are you the Diana Felder who gave up a baby boy forty-four years ago…?
“Do you want a shortbread with your tea?” asked Rupert as he carried a tray into the room. “I brought a plate of them, in case.” He chuckled. “I think I’m getting used to this retirement business. Take a walk, read a book, have a nap, time for tea!”
Diana shoved the letter back into the envelope and pushed it deep into her pocket, her heart thundering against her ribcage. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. “Wonderful! Yes, please.”
Sarah
The twinkle lights that lit up the al fresco dining area attached to the Emerald Cafe could be seen far down the street. Sarah hurried towards the cafe, with another glance at her watch. She was running late to meet Meg and Vicky for dinner.
Inside, she glanced around, but before the seating hostess could help her, she spotted her friends in the back corner close to the blazing fire. Wi
th a grateful sigh, she headed in their direction. She wasn’t sure she could manage sitting outside, it seemed her body had acclimatised to the milder weather in Emerald Cove and even with the scattered heaters throughout the space, she’d have felt the cold coastal wind go right through her flimsy coat. Still there were plenty of diners seated outside. Most likely tourists from down south who were used to frigid temperatures.
“There you are,” she greeted her friends, throwing herself into a chair at their table.
Meg laughed. “You okay, Sarah?”
Sarah nodded. “I’m fine. What are we drinking?”
Vicky arched an eyebrow. “Mineral water…”
“Ugh, I think tonight calls for something harder. A bottle of shiraz?”
Vicky and Meg nodded. Meg’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sarah caught their waitress’s attention and placed an order for shiraz and a basket of fries.
She sighed. “I’m fine, had a rough night. I’d rather talk about you two. Sorry I’m late. How are you? What’s going on? Catch me up.”
Vicky eyed her a moment, then pursed her lips. “Well, I was telling Meg that I’m still not feeling well and I’m starting to get a little worried. Like, what if it’s something serious? So far, none of the tests my GP’s done have found anything. They don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve googled so much I’m completely confused as to whether I have Swine Flu or Leukaemia…”
Meg chuckled. “Stop Googling! It’s going to drive you crazy.”
“I know,” conceded Vicky, rubbing a hand over her face. “But I have to find out what’s going on with my health. It’s really minor things, but they add up. I’m so tired all of the time. My stomach feels bad sometimes, but not always. My ankles are swollen, when I go to the doctor, he says I have a low-grade fever… although I only feel feverish sometimes. I don’t know. I’m starting to get a little more concerned about what’s going on with me.”
