Sorry We're Closed

by Annie Seaton

  Sorry We’re Closed

  By

  Annie Seaton

  Sorry We’re Closed

  Copyright © September 2018, Annie Seaton.

  NOTE: This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  .

  This one is for each one of my lovely readers.

  I love the messages I receive from you.

  Chapter One

  Ginny Silver waited on the footpath outside the big house on the hill above Bondi Beach while her client took a call.

  ‘Hello? No, I’m sorry, we’re closed.’ Sally Brown’s voice held exasperation. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as Ginny stood quietly beside her, anxious to go inside the house and see the promised treasures. Sally had been late for their appointment and she mouthed another apology to Ginny before turning back to her phone.

  The faded grey paint of the old mansion softened to a silvery hue in the dying sunlight of a perfect spring afternoon and a wave of nostalgia settled in Ginny’s chest. The house was of a similar vintage to her grandparents’ house on the ridge overlooking the paddocks in central western Queensland. She shut down that line of thought quickly; those happy days were long gone.

  ‘Sonia is at the coffee shop opposite the beach doing readings, but she only works Mondays and Wednesdays. Yes, Bondi Beach.’

  Ginny turned away and watched the surfers catching the waves on the point as Sally continued to answer her caller. She had high hopes for this visit; her shop desperately needed new stock. The last three “collections” in the deceased estates that she’d been invited to view had been disappointing; they had been more appropriate for the tip and had been barely suitable for St Vinnie’s, let alone her upmarket vintage store.

  Sally tapped her hand against her hip as she tried to wind up the call. ‘I’m sorry I have to— no, the yoga classes aren’t at the house anymore either. We’re closed for good. The house has been sold. Thank you for your interest. Bye.’

  Ginny turned back to her as Sally slipped the phone into her handbag.

  ‘Sorry about that. And sorry I was late. My husband had a vet emergency with a horse up at Peats Ridge, and then the traffic on the motorway was awful.’ Sally glanced at her watch. ‘And I’m going to have to apologise again, because I only have about ten minutes to show you around. My sister and I have an appointment with the solicitor about the sale of the house at five.’

  ‘That’s fine. I closed the shop early, because I had another couple of houses to look at, so the wait didn’t matter. You’re my last appointment.’ Ginny looked out over the water. ‘And I was enjoying the view. It’s such a beautiful afternoon.’

  The afternoon light was fading to a pearly dusk and the slight westerly wind blew a fine mist of spray above the crest of the waves before they broke in a gentle arc of white foam. The last of the sunlight danced on the waves and Ginny smiled as serenity flooded through her. She could have stayed there watching the waves all afternoon. She took very little time to enjoy Sydney. Her time was spent in the shop or in her tiny apartment scouring the papers, and Gumtree and eBay online, for opportunities to buy stock. She let out a soft sigh; not that you should really see someone’s death as an opportunity.

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I do miss the sound of the ocean since we moved to the country. There’s nothing like the sound of the waves to lull you to sleep at night.’ Sally laughed as she opened the gate and led Ginny towards the front porch of the old house. ‘At the moment, all I hear at Peats Ridge is the mooing of cows and the dogs barking!’

  ‘That’s a big change. Moving from Bondi to the country.’ Ginny said but didn’t mention that she had done the opposite; no one in Sydney knew of her outback background and she was happy to leave it that way. It was safer for her emotional wellbeing.

  She shut down those thoughts as the too-familiar anxiety tugged at her chest. She swallowed and was pleased when Sally kept talking.

  ‘Yes, it was a change. I’ve always been a city girl, and I’ve lived most of my life close to the beach.’ Sally hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder. ‘My husband has just started a new vet practice up at Peat’s Ridge. We’ve been so busy getting settled I haven’t had time to think to miss the beach or my yoga business yet.’

  How wonderful would it be to live in a house overlooking the water? Ginny’s tiny one-bedroom apartment looked over the footpath outside a Vietnamese bakery in Randwick; it was all Ginny had been able to afford when she’d moved to Sydney and she’d put what money she had left into setting up the shop.

  One day, she promised herself. One day she’d move to a place near the water, and she’d take the time to smell the salt air. One day, when she made enough money to be independent and leave the past behind for good. Now all her energy and finances were going into her business. A glimmer of guilt ran through her; she really shouldn’t have closed the shop early today. Who knew what sales she’d missed; every cent and every dollar counted towards her goal. Working in the shop alone was the most difficult part of running a business because it meant it was so hard to spare the time to visit properties and source the goods. Even though she preferred nights and weekends for visiting houses, most people wanted to meet during the day. Every hour the shop was closed impacted on her income. Hopefully, soon she’d be able to increase the Jo’s hours. Now, her part-time shop assistant came in two afternoons a week.

  ‘You’ve sold your house to move?’ Ginny stared up at the front of the elegant mansion and then followed Sally up the steps to the front porch.

  ‘Long story, but yes the house is on the market. And it looks like it’s finally sold. That’s what this afternoon’s meeting is for.’ Sally nodded as she put the key in the front door and wriggled it. ‘But it’s not my house. It’s complicated. My friends, the owners, are in Hawaii and my sister and I are meeting the solicitor representing Rosie and Taj while the sale goes through.’ Sally rubbed her hand over her very pregnant stomach.

  ‘So, you think it has been sold?’ Ginny asked as Sally pushed the door. ‘If we are going to work together I’d need to know the time frame for collecting anything that’s suitable. That is if there is anything here that suits.’

  ‘The house is almost sold, I think. It’s been a long and difficult process.’

  Ginny frowned. ‘I thought a house in this location would have been snapped up?’

  ‘Oh, yes. But none of us wanted to sell it. You know memories, nostalgia, family and all that?’

  Ginny nodded even though she had no time for memories or nostalgia. Family, well, she wouldn’t go there either.

  ‘Rosie and Taj could have sold it a hundred times over, but one of their conditions of sale was that the house wouldn’t be demolished to make way for a modern apartment block,’ Sally said. ‘So there’ll be no new box of modern apartments on the hill. That was all the interest that was shown by the first buyers interested.’

  Satisfaction filled Ginny. ‘That’s good to hear. It would be so sad to see a beautiful home like this demolished. Althoug
h I suppose it would be out of the price range for someone just looking for a family home.’

  ‘Yes. It is a fabulous place to live, and such a gorgeous old house. They thought long and hard about keeping it because of’— Sally cleared her throat — ‘because of Aunt Aggie, but when Sol and I moved, and then my sister and her partner moved out, it was easier for them to sell it. Taj, the owner, is a surfer on the pro circuit and he and Rosie and the kids are based in Hawaii. But they finally found someone who suited. The purchaser is a builder who has agreed to develop apartments within the existing shell, so it was a bit of a compromise.’ Sally looked up at the house and her voice was quiet and her words held a tinge of sadness. ‘It’s so hard to see the house go. I worry about—’ She broke off and shook her head. ‘Come on, let’s show you this Aladdin’s Cave my sister tells me is upstairs. We need to get a move on. I’ve spent too much time yabbering on about the house and us, sorry. Is it okay with you if I show you the rooms where everything is, and then leave you to it?’

  Ginny nodded. ‘If you show me how to lock up, that’s fine. It will be dark soon. Is the power still on?’

  ‘Yes, it is. Stay as long as you need to. I’m just sorry that I can’t show you everything.’ Sally shook her head. ‘Mind you, there’s so much here, I haven’t seen it all myself even though I lived in the house for a few years. Aggie was a hoarder, but I know it’s all quality.’

  The heavy door opened with a creak and Ginny followed Sally into a large foyer. A sweeping timber staircase curving to the floor above filled the space. Light filtered in through a large glass pane high above the front door. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunlight and the dark wood of the polished bannister shone with a warm glow. Ginny wrinkled her nose and inhaled with pleasure. The smell of beeswax mingled with the sweet fragrance of spring flowers and she looked around expecting to see a vase of freesias or jonquils in the foyer. She frowned as the fragrance disappeared; there was nothing there. No hallstand or table to hold a vase; in fact, there was no furniture at all.

  And no flowers in sight. She sniffed again but the fragrance had gone.

  ‘It’s really sad to see the house like this.’ Sally glanced across at Ginny and gestured towards the stairs. ‘Downstairs has been emptied out. We all took some of the furniture, but most of it went to the second-hand shop. It was old, but not good enough for the antique dealers.’

  Ginny frowned. Despite what Sally had said about the clothes being good quality that didn’t bode well for what was upstairs; she hoped she hadn’t wasted an afternoon. But the house was old, and Sally had assured her that there were wardrobes full of old clothes and shoes there. A niggle of excitement settled in her tummy. She never knew what she was going to discover in these old houses of a past Sydney.

  The carpet runner in the centre of the stairs muffled their footsteps as they climbed to the first floor. Sally paused on a landing that led to a long wide hallway and at least half a dozen closed doors. The hallway was dark and quiet but as they stood there was a loud thud from the floor above.

  ‘What was that?’ Ginny asked looking up the stairs. ‘Is there someone else here?’

  Sally waved her hand dismissively and shook her head, but there was an evasive note in her voice. ‘No, just the usual creaks and groans of an old house. We’re used to them.’ She set off up the next flight of stairs and then paused on the next landing. Inhaling deeply, she rubbed her stomach again. ‘This baby is getting bigger by the day.’

  ‘Take it easy. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll be fine. When are you due?’

  ‘Six weeks to go yet.’ Sally reached over and opened the door to the right of the stairs. ‘Most of the clothes are in the wardrobes on this floor. Behind the other door, there’s a small flight of stairs up to the attic on the top floor—you don’t need to go back to the main staircase— and Sonia told me there’s bags and shoes, and lots of other bits and pieces up there. I’ve never been up there. I’ve got no idea if they’ll be of interest to you, or if they’re only good enough for the tip.’

  ‘One way to find out,’ Ginny replied. ‘It sounds interesting from what you described to me so far. And if I find anything personal, or anything jewellery that looks valuable I’ll refer it to you immediately.’

  ‘Thank you. Apparently, Aunt Aggie was a bit of a socialite in her young days. We never knew the whole story but there was some family tragedy and she changed her lifestyle and fostered children for a long time. Rosie was her last foster child.’

  Ginny smothered a grin. Sally was talking about the family again; it sounded as though they were very close. She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s almost five. Do you have far to go.’

  ‘Oh heck, yes. Mr Pepper is over at Bondi Junction. But he’s a dear old soul. He won’t mind if I’m a teensy bit late. He loves Sonia, and they’ll be chatting.’ Sally hurried down the hall and opened the last door. ‘Aunt Aggie lived on the middle floor for most of her life, but she stored all of her clothes up here. Take as long as you like. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll set the latch on the front door when I go and all you’ll have to do is pull it shut behind you when you leave.’

  Ginny’s face heated and she turned to Sally. ‘I feel silly asking, but would you mind locking the door while I’m up here?’

  ‘No problem at all. Probably wise. You never know who’s hanging around these days, and the last thing we need is squatters in the house. Oh, and turn the light out please when you leave. I’ll give you a call to see what you think.’

  Sally stood back and ushered Ginny into the room. Ginny nodded, paying scant attention to the other woman. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open as she looked around. ‘Oh my God.’

  Chapter Two

  Greg Tindall pulled the tape from the pocket of his work shorts. As he crouched in front of the fence and put one hand against the bricks to steady himself, he admired the intricate herringbone pattern of the bricks along the top.

  The fence would have to go. Even if he was keeping the façade of the house the same, the burnished colour of the bricks didn’t match the colours he had in mind for the development.

  A shame, he thought. The setting sun gave the bricks a deep reddish glow and the contrast with the silver blue of the water in the background was stunning.

  Maybe I could work it in somehow? Maybe he could change the colour plan he had in mind?

  Greg shook his head and secured the spring steel tape to the corner of the fence where it joined the modern Colorbond fence of the new apartment block next door. He was getting ahead of himself; if this measurement was less than he thought there would be no development, and no need to be worrying about colour plans.

  He’d asked his solicitor to hold back on the final exchange of contracts that had been scheduled for this afternoon, because he wanted to be sure there was enough room at the side to access the new parking area that he would build behind the house. That was one of the things that the council had insisted upon before the DA could be approved. If his plan came to fruition, he should be able to get at least six, maybe seven apartments in the old house. Two on each level and hopefully a luxury penthouse on the top floor to take in the views. Greg grunted with satisfaction as he stretched the tape and walked to the other end of the fence.

  Perfect. The access was wide enough. Once he’d called Johnno, he’d go up and look at the top floor; he wanted to take some measurements up there too. He pulled out his mobile and hit the speed dial for his solicitor.

  ‘Greg. How did it go?’

  He and Johnno had gone to school together, and although their careers—and their lives—had gone in very different directions, they had stayed good mates.

  ‘She’s a goer, mate. So we can go ahead with the paperwork. I’m happy to exchange and pay the ten percent deposit.’

  ‘O...kay.’

  Greg frowned. ‘What do you mean with the “o...kay” tone? Don’t tell you’re against this development too. Don’t worry, it’ll look the same as
it does now.’ Greg was very protective of this project; the thought of working on the beautiful house filled him with enthusiasm—and there hadn’t been a lot of that lately.

  ‘No. Nothing like that. I think it’s a great idea.’

  ‘So what’s with the hesitation?’

  ‘I know what you’re like, mate. I know you’ve got a lot of work contracted for the next few months, and as well as not knowing what delegate means, you’re trying to please two masters.’

  Greg put the tape back in his pocket and dug for the key that the owners had allowed him to have for the past week. ‘No need to worry. I can handle it. Dad’s eased off me now. I’m my own boss these days.’

  ‘You’re a bloody workaholic. You need to ease back a bit. It’s not as though you need the money. Honestly, mate, I worry about you. Life’s too short to spend all your time working. I know what motivates you, but it’s time you pulled back. It’s time we had a drink or three . . . and a catch up. What do you think? This weekend?’

  Greg stared at the water as he listened to Johnno. The sun had dropped below the horizon and the surfers were heading towards the beach.

  How good would it be to be out there, riding the waves, with nothing to worry about? He hadn’t had a surf for the past couple of summers. Greg knew the pressure he was under was his own doing. It was time to reconsider his work load. Years of trying to prove himself hadn’t left much time for any social outings or leisure stuff. Johnno knew him too well, so he tried to reassure him.

  ‘I told you I’m fine. This development is going to be a hit. And I might even take a holiday after it’s done. A long one.’

  Johnno’s laugh spluttered down the phone. ‘I’ll take a bet on that. If you take a holiday, I’ll—’

  ‘You’ll buy the first apartment. Kitty would love that.’

  ‘I’m sure she would but we already have a very suitable apartment. I’ll donate a thousand dollars to the charity of your choice if you take a holiday.’