Bungalow on Pelican Way

by Lilly Mirren

  Kate’s breath caught in her throat. “Was she in trouble?”

  “Oh, you better believe it,” Mima chuckled. “She was whipped, and only allowed out of the house for church on Sundays and to attend school. They didn’t believe it when she told them she’d gotten up early to go for a ride, since she was wearing a dress and coat. She’d borrowed her mother’s lipstick if I recall. So, there wasn’t much chance of her getting away with that lie. Still, she never broke when they grilled her about who she was with. She stuck to her story and refused to admit she’d met up with any of us. So, we were never found out, though of course her parents suspected I was involved. They never much cared for me.” Mima sighed and rested her hands in her lap. “That was your Nan, always loyal to the ones she loved, no matter the cost.” Her eyes clouded over and a single tear escaped from one watery corner. She ignored it and let it find its way down her lined cheek.

  A lump worked its way up into Kate’s throat. Inside the inn she could hear the soft keening of the kitchen telephone. She jumped to her feet and bolted for the door, letting it slap shut behind her. “It’s the phone,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Kate. I wanted to be there.” Davis’s voice was soft, with a slight hoarseness to it, as though he’d just woken up.

  “Are you at your place?” asked Kate.

  “Nope. I’m at work. There was an emergency with one of our clients. I couldn’t get away. I feel really bad about it.”

  She sighed. “It’s fine, I understand. I wish you could’ve been here. It was really beautiful. Sad, but lovely.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She swallowed to dampen the surge of tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “I’m fine. It’s hard to say goodbye, but I’ve got Mima, Jack, Reeda, and Bindi here with me. So, we’re all taking care of each other. I think I’m going to stay here a while longer, until we figure out what to do with the inn.”

  “That’s good,” he replied with a yawn. “It’ll give you some time to think about things, you know? To reassess.”

  She frowned. “What? What things?”

  “Life, direction, purpose…”

  What was he saying? “I suppose… although I’m not really sure what you’re talking about. Do you think I need to reassess?”

  He exhaled slowly before responding. “You’re not happy, Katie. Your light has gone out. It went out a long time ago, and you’ve been treading water ever since. I don’t know what it is, I’ve tried to make you happy, but…”

  Her eyes widened, then filled with tears. “Do you really mean that?”

  He didn’t reply, instead he sighed.

  There was an ache in her chest that grew with each passing moment, each breath added more tension, each word seemed to choke the breath from her body.

  “Okay. I didn’t realise you felt that way.”

  “I want you to be happy. You know that.”

  “I know.” She covered her mouth with one hand. She didn’t want to cry. All she wanted was to run upstairs to her room and bury her head in a pillow.

  “I’d like to see you of course, but you should take your time in coming back. This is your chance to have a break from it all, rebuild your family, try to figure out what it is you want in life… because I don’t know if it’s…” He sighed. “Well, anyway, call me.”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Okay, bye,” she whispered.

  Kate set the phone back in its cradle and covered her face with both hands, sobbing softly. Was Davis right? Had her light gone out? Whatever that meant. She’d felt a bit low lately, that was true. And she’d skipped a lot of parties and events, the ones she didn’t absolutely have to attend. But that was because she was tired, she worked hard and going out after a long evening slaving over a stove was the last thing she wanted to do late at night.

  Still, Davis didn’t seem to understand. She knew it frustrated him but hadn’t stopped to wonder what was behind her desire to spend lazy nights in her pjs watching Friends reruns rather than going out on the town with her fiancé. Maybe she was more than a little bit low, after all.

  She wiped her face dry with a sleeve, then headed for the stairs. So what if she wasn’t completely happy? Was anyone truly happy? That was life. Wasn’t it?

  Being an adult wasn’t all sunshine and roses. There was work to be done, responsibilities to manage, relationships to navigate. And it was hard. Hard to do it all alone. She missed her family. Missed her parents, missed Nan. She climbed the stairs with slow deliberation, then lay down on her bed, curling her legs up to her chest and sliding her hands beneath her cheek. Things would get better. They had to.

  11

  February 1940

  Bathurst

  Edie squinted at the bright sunlight that filtered through the tree branches overhead. She ducked behind a red brick wall that lined one end of the quadrangle, one hand holding tight to the strap of her leather satchel.

  Where was he?

  She glanced back over her shoulder, her heart pounding. Then she walked quickly and with as much confidence as she could muster through the quadrangle and out of the school grounds. One last look back at the tall, red brick building sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.

  The words Bathurst High School 1926 stood out dark against the cream-coloured verandah that wrapped around the building’s second storey. An Australian flag flapped on a silver flagpole in front of the building. She watched the front steps. No one was there. No sign of anyone coming after her. She hurried down the street, then stepped behind a tall fir tree, breath inhaled in ragged gulps.

  She’d done it. Classes were underway and she wasn’t there. She was wagging, something she’d never dared to do until today, and if her father found out she’d be in more trouble than ever. The grounding they’d given her for sneaking out a year earlier would be nothing compared to how he’d react to finding she’d skipped class to spend time with her boyfriend.

  Not that Daddy knew about Charlie. He and Mother suspected that she and Charlie liked one another, her mother had mentioned something to her about guarding her reputation a time or two, whenever Charlie came to visit her brother, but they had no idea how much time the two of them spent together. Especially since she was barely allowed to leave the farm these days unless she was going to church or school. She hardly got to see Mima, let alone spend time with Charlie.

  Still, somehow, they managed it. They saw each other around the school on occasion, and sometimes he’d ride his bike out to the Watson farm and they’d meet up on the creek bank. She’d ride her horse, Eliza, beside the creek until she saw him, seated in the grass, the bike on its side next to him. He’d grin when he saw her, then she’d slide down and run to him, throwing her arms around him. He’d twirl her until she thought the two of them would spin right off the face of the earth, then he’d set her feet on the ground and kiss her, his lips soft and urgent against hers.

  Edie chewed on the end of a fingernail while she waited, her heart still thudding loud in her ears.

  “There you are!” Charlie’s voice behind her made her almost jump out of her skin.

  She turned to him with wide eyes, then slid her arms around his neck. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” he grinned. He pressed his lips to hers and she breathed him in, surrendering to the pressure of his strong arms closing around her and pulling her body to his. “We don’t have long.”

  He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. His own hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, the way they always did when he had a plan.

  “Let’s go,” he said. He took her hand in his and together they walked along the side of the road, her satchel bumping against her back with each step.

  It was important to look as though they knew where they were headed, he said, otherwise someone was bound to spot them and turn them in. So, they walked hand-in-hand, with long, confident strides. They found their way to the outskirts of town soo
n enough, heads held high. Peel Street took them all the way to the banks of the Macquarie River. Edie followed Charlie down the narrow, dusty trail that led to the winding, mud-coloured river.

  Charlie released Edie’s hand and bent to select three round stones. He straightened, strode to the water’s edge, and skipped the stones, one by one, over the glassy surface. Then, faced her with a half-smile.

  “Do you think they know we’re gone?” she asked, worry edging her voice.

  He laughed. “What does it matter if they do?”

  Her lips pursed. “But if Daddy finds out…”

  “What? He’ll ground you?” Charlie huffed, then reached for another stone.

  She chewed on her lip. He had a point. She lived in a constant state of grounding as far as she was concerned. Her parents didn’t trust her, not after Daddy found her riding home at five o’clock in the morning the one and only time she’d snuck out of the house to meet friends. She wouldn’t have done it either, only she’d known Charlie would be there. That was the night of their first kiss. Her heart warmed at the memory.

  She walked to his side, then slipped her hand into his. He faced her with a wide smile. She could always tell what he was thinking, by the look on his face. He was so open, unassuming, and free. His strength inspired her to be strong. His love stirred her heart to open in ways she’d never expected. He was everything she never knew she needed, but now couldn’t imagine living without.

  He cupped both cheeks with his hands and let his lips linger softly over hers.

  “Marry me,” he whispered.

  She giggled, her cheeks warming at his touch. “I’m only fifteen years old, I haven’t finished school yet.”

  He whistled, a short, sharp note. “Well, I’m almost finished, and I’ve been working over at the news agency after school for six whole months. I’ve got some money saved. Anyway, we’re going to get married one day, it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Ask me then. And do it proper,” she replied.

  He stepped away, finding a large, flat stone and fingering its edges, brushing away the dust and dirt. “Fine, I’ll ask you then. But so you know, I’m gonna marry you.”

  She laughed. “And I’m gonna marry you.”

  He smiled at her, the dimples in his cheeks flashing. Her heart skipped a beat. “When I graduate, I’m going to Sydney to study engineering at uni. I’ve already talked to Dad about it. He said he’ll pay my way. And when I get a job, I’ll ask you to marry me. We’ll be married and we’ll buy ourselves a nice little house here in town. We’ll have children, and I’ll save up to buy us a car, if you like.”

  She smiled, shading her eyes from the morning sun with one hand held to her forehead. “I’m going to be a scientist,” she said. “I’ll discover the cure to a disease of some kind, and when we marry, I want to have land. Not a lot of land, but enough for horses.”

  He faced her, shoving his hands deep into the grey pockets of his pants. He’d loosened the tie that hung around his neck and undone the top two buttons of his pressed white shirt. “A scientist?”

  She nodded, a grin curling up the corners of her lips. “Uh huh. I love science. There are so many things to discover. It’s like there’s a whole world waiting for me.” She linked her fingers together in front of the navy school tunic, studying his face as he watched her closely.

  “But what about children?”

  She laughed. “What about them?”

  “You can’t be a scientist; you’ll be raising our children. How will that work?”

  Her brow furrowed and irritation squirmed in her gut. “I guess they’ll come later, I don’t know. I know I want to cure something. I don’t want to sit in the background all my life. I want to do something, achieve something, make a difference.”

  “Well, so do I.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “Good, so we’re agreed?”

  “No, you’re gonna be my wife…”

  “Yes, and you’re gonna be my husband, and that means you’re supposed to love me, and everything about me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing.

  He closed the gap between them, then took her hands in his, kissing the back of each one at a time. “Fine, you can be a scientist.”

  “I don’t need your permission,” she sniffed.

  He laughed. “Okay, okay. Promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Don’t ever leave me.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her, and she smiled against his lips.

  “I promise. Let’s swim,” she said.

  He grinned, then shucked off his shoes. Hers came next, and soon they were clothed only in their white, cotton underwear. He studied her, with one sweeping gaze, then ran for the water.

  “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” he called as he plunged into the river, then dove beneath the surface.

  She followed him in at a more sedate pace and lowered herself into the cold water with a low gasp. He found her then, and threaded his arms around her, drops of water slipping down his tanned face.

  “You’re a frustrating one, Miss Edith Watson,” he said.

  She grinned. “But I’m worth it.”

  “Definitely worth it,” he replied, then kissed her again.

  12

  September 1995

  Cabarita Beach

  When she couldn’t read any more, Kate closed Nan’s journal and crawled up onto the bed. Her back ached, her legs needed stretching and part of her rear end had lost all feeling. She curled onto her side and set her hands beneath her cheek, feeling the wetness of her tears as they adjusted course and slid sideways toward the quilt.

  She didn’t know why she was crying. Only that she hadn’t expected to find what she did — an epistle of Nan’s life, in her own words. It was breathtaking, enthralling, and made her feel a little like she’d snuck into Nan’s room and surprised her while she was taking a bath.

  Who was Charlie Jackson, the boy who’d stolen Nan’s heart when she was only fourteen years old? His presence wove a measure of intrigue throughout the journal’s pages, and the mystery whispered questions to her as she read.

  She’d believed Pop was Nan’s first and only love. They’d met while she was so young, she couldn’t remember exactly how old. Sometime during the second world war Pop had turned up at the hospital where Nan worked, a member of the United States Navy. He’d been recovering from an injury. Kate remembered that much. It was how her grandparents had met. She’d heard the story a time or two, though Nan never seemed to want to tell it. It was always Pop who spilled their secrets. Nan held hers close to her chest.

  Kate wiped the tears from her cheeks with one hand and stared absently through the window to the tops of the gum trees in the distance.

  How could Nan have loved this boy Charlie so much that they planned on getting married soon after she finished high school, and then go on to marry Pop instead? What’d happened to Charlie? Where was he? Who was he? She didn’t remember ever hearing his name before, not that her seventy-year-old grandmother was likely to talk to her granddaughters about a boy she’d known all those years ago. Although she hadn’t only known him, she’d loved him. And loved him with the kind of passion Kate couldn’t say, in all honesty, she’d ever felt for anyone.

  The tears started up again and she hugged her bent legs to her chest.

  When her tears finally dried, she brushed her hair, and wiped her face. Then she walked downstairs for lunch. She wouldn’t say anything to the others about the journals yet. She wanted to keep them to herself for a little while longer. To find out more about Nan, and the boy she’d loved so long ago. She’d tell them eventually, Reeda and Bindi were Nan’s granddaughters too, and they deserved to get the chance to read about her life. But what would they say? Would they tell her not to pry, that the journals were private? She shuddered and tugged her cardigan more tightly around her body. Private or not, she couldn’t shake the longing to spend more time reading the word
s Nan had scrawled onto those fragile pages when she was a girl. And to find out what’d happened to Charlie Jackson.

  Kate rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Another night of restless sleep as the outlaw possum held a dance party in the roof cavity over her head. Her thoughts fixated on Davis, Nan, and her sisters and spun into dreams she couldn’t escape from and problems she couldn’t resolve.

  In one part of her dream she’d found herself running along a beach, with Davis behind her, calling out that she should wait for him. She’d been frightened, lonely, and desperate, blowing harder with each step she took as her lungs begged for air.

  Her sisters were up ahead. She tried to call out to them, but they ignored her, talking and laughing, just out of reach, until finally, she tripped over her own exhausted feet and fell onto the wet sand. A wave rushed up and crashed over her, and she was drowning, bathed in sweat, and sucking in great mouthfuls of air when she woke, as the mournful screams of curlews echoed in the still night.

  She’d lain on her back, unable to fall back to sleep, ever since.

  The sun had risen, and birdsong marked a new morning. Kookaburras had been the first to sound, their laughter shaking the coast to wakefulness. Then, the warble of magpies, the haunting call of seagulls, the chirrup of swallows and the screech of plovers chasing an intruder from their grassy nests, all swelled and built as the sun rose in the sky.

  She reached for the journal she’d stuffed beneath her pillow the previous night, turned the pages to where the bookmark peeked out, and rubbed bleary eyes with the back of her hand.

  The more she read, the more she realised how much Charlie had meant to Nan, and her wonder at why she’d never heard of him grew. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of thing a grandmother talked to her grandchildren about, a love affair in her teenage years, but their relationship had the distinct ring of something more than that. More than a crush, greater than a first love, it resounded with a depth that gave her heart an ache of melancholy mixed with nostalgia, and a whiff of envy.