Beach Music

by Annie Seaton

  Beach Music

  By

  Annie Seaton

  Beach Music

  Copyright © March 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

  Beach Music (Bondi Beach Love, #2)

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  A taste for you...Beach Walk

  Chapter 1

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my dear friend, Sharyn.

  She had a real Otis.

  Chapter 1

  Sally leaned her head against the cold glass window of the bus and stared out at the depressing scene of a rain swept street. After the dismal view became too much she closed her eyes, and imagined a tropical beach, but the only picture she could summon up was Rosie and Sonia waving to her from Waikiki.

  She was still stuck on a bus in the peak hour of a miserable Sydney winter.

  Thanks, girls. Catch some sun for me.

  Sally hated winter. Water droplets ran down the outside of the dirty window and she put her hand on the back of the seat in front of her as the bus lurched to a stop at yet another set of traffic lights. The man beside her pulled out a handkerchief and she tried not to breathe in as he coughed.

  That’s all I need. A dose of the flu would cap this winter off perfectly.

  But she could only take the blame herself. She could have gone with Sonia, but as usual her work ethic kicked in. The weather had been bleak, and business had been slow in the house at the beach. The engine roared as the bus took off again and Sally turned her attention back to the grey world outside. A flash of lightning relieved the dim vista and the thunder rumbled soon after. The gutter at the edge of the footpath was running, and spouts of water were streaming over the rubbish that was being swept long in the torrent. A young woman stood waiting to cross the road and as Sally watched her red umbrella turned inside out when the chill wind gusted in from the sea. The girl’s eyes were wide and she looked as disgusted as Sally felt at the moment.

  She closed her eyes as the bus stopped to let passengers off and a blast of cold air roared up the passageway of the bus. The southerly busters had arrived one after the other this winter and last Friday night on the news, the weatherman had said it was the coldest Sydney winter for fifty years.

  ‘No shit, Sherlock,’ Sonia had commented as she’d lounged on the sofa beside her. She’d picked up the postcard that had arrived from Hawaii and read it aloud for the third time.

  ‘Gals, we are renting a huge condo right above the beach. Come and visit, I’d love to see you both it’s been too long. All it will cost is an airfare and there are deals at the moment. Ring me when you are going to arrive, Love Rosie.’

  When Sonia had arrived home the next afternoon and waved a ticket at her, envy had almost eaten up Sally.

  ‘Come on, Sal. Book a ticket too. Get away from this cold weather,’ she’d pleaded. ‘I’m leaving Monday. Free accommodation in Hawaii. Sun, surf and sand. Come with me. Pleeeeease?’

  ‘Monday!’

  ‘Yep, no point hanging around. Business is slow, and I’m off to have a good time. They’ve been few and far between lately.’

  ‘What few customers?’

  ‘No, good times. I need a fun roll in the hay.’ Sonia giggled. ‘Or maybe the sand.’

  Sally shook her head. Honestly, even though they were twins—fraternal—she and Sonia couldn’t be more different. Sometimes she thought life might be more fun if she did have a free and easy attitude like Sonia. But Sally had inherited their mother’s cautious and considered manner. Anything she did had to be thought through and planned.

  Not like Sonia taking off for Hawaii on a whim.

  ‘Come on, Sally. We could have a great time.’ Sonia tipped her head to the side. ‘You need to do something to get out of the rut you’ve been hiding in since—’

  ‘I can’t.’ Sally had folded her arms and cut Sonia off. ‘I’ve got commitments now. I can’t close my appointments book off now that I’m working over at the Wellness Centre.’

  ‘I don’t know why you ever started work there. We’ve got our own centre.’ Sonia glanced across at her twin sister as she filled the kettle. ‘Or we did have. You want a coffee?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Sally pulled out a chair and looked down with a smile as her kitten wound his way around her ankles. ‘I did it because my appointments here dropped off after the footy team folded. And you know it’s not been the same since Rosie moved away. Besides who’d look after Muggins here.’ She reached down and smiled as the rag doll kitten snuggled into her chest.

  ‘You can’t call her Muggins. That’s an awful name for such a pretty little girl.’

  ‘It’s only temporary until I think of the right one.’

  Sonia rolled her eyes. ‘And you make up your mind so fast, she’s likely to be Muggins when she’s old and grey.’

  ‘Don’t be sarcastic. I like to think things through, not like you. Mrs Rush-Tear-and Bust. Sally pursed her lips. ‘I still can’t believe you’ve bought a ticket to go to Hawaii.’

  Sonia frowned and pulled out the chair beside her twin. ‘Sal, don’t be so boring. I worry about you. It’s bad enough that I’m still living here in the same house that Aggie let us move into with Rosie when we were starting out. But at least I do things and go places. When was the last time you took a holiday?’

  Sally bit her lip and looked down at the kitten in her lap. ‘I don’t need a holiday.’ She gestured to the window. ‘Look, we live in the most vibrant city in the world and Bondi Beach is at our doorstep. I don’t need to go anywhere.’

  ‘You’re never going to get over him, are you? He really did a number on you.’

  ‘Sonia.’ Sally kept her voice low and she injected a warning note into it. ‘Don’t go there.’

  ‘I’m going to. You’re turning into a boring recluse. God, Sal. It’s been three years since Blake dumped you for that...that bimbo. When was the last time you spoke to a man who wasn’t a client?’

  Sally had stood, held the kitten tight and glared at her sister. ‘I’m happy in my life. Okay? Forget the coffee. I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘You really need to be pushed out of that boring comfort zone you’ve settled into.’

  If she’d seen the calculating look on her twin sister’s face as she strode out of the kitchen, maybe she would have bought a ticket to Hawaii.

  Sonia had been gone five days and when Sally stepped off the bus on Friday afternoon into rain and wind, she muttered beneath her breath. ‘Not only the coldest winter for fifty years, but the damn
wettest too.’

  Muggins was waiting at the door as she pushed it open, and Sally dropped her umbrella onto the tiles before she shouldered her coat off. It was so damp it would need to go in front of the fire.

  If she could be bothered lighting one. It would mean a trip out to the back shed to get some firewood, and she was pretty sure that she’d used the last of the split kindling the other night. Taj had offered to put reverse cycle air conditioning through the house on their last trip home, but Sally had shaken her head.

  ‘Waste of money, guys. It doesn’t get cold enough here to need it.’

  And what she didn’t say was that it would hike up the power bill, and she and Sonia had to watch their finances lately.

  Especially now that her work had dropped off so much. At least tomorrow was Saturday and she could stay home. She would get the fire going late. It would warm some of the house for what was looking like a bleak weekend.

  And a bleak life. The words flitted through her mind. She straightened her shoulders and reached down to pick up the kitten; her purr was at full throttle and she was warm in her hands. It was time to stop feeling sorry for herself and listen to Sonia. This weekend she would do something out of her comfort zone.

  Sally fed Muggins before she pushed her wet hair back from her face with a sigh, and headed for the bathroom. A hot bath, her winter PJs and dressing gown and some hot soup would warm her up. As she headed back to the kitchen to pour a wine to take into the bath, the front door bell pealed.

  For a minute she considered ignoring it, but then realised it could be a potential client. Every one counted.

  Juggling the wine glass in one hand and the door key in the other, she headed for the door.

  Chapter 2

  Solomon Brown looked curiously at the two men who pushed past him at the gate. He held the gate open and approached the front door of the house with something akin to reverence. He folded down the black umbrella and leaned it against the low wooden wall of the porch of the grand old mansion. As he’d walked up the hill in the gusting wind he’d passed a constant stream of people walking to their parked cars and down to the bus stop. But he forgot about that and opened his eyes wide as the graceful old house on the top of the hill overlooking Bondi Beach filled his vision. It stood tall and proud, the stormy sky providing an atmospheric back drop.

  This was meant to be. When he’d read the advertisement yesterday, the address had snagged his attention; so much so that a cup of coffee in his hand had gone flying when he realised the ad was to do with this house.

  The same house that had called to him for years. The house he’d always loved.

  If he believed in things like that, he’d almost say he’d been led here this afternoon. But he didn’t believe in the paranormal.

  Not completely anyway.

  Despite not having the medical mind to suit his family, Solomon still had a scientific bent. This beautiful house had always struck a chord in him. He’d admired the graceful old building since he was a kid walking up the hill with his boogie board slung over his back, fascinated by the architecture of it. The steep roof with the widow’s walk around the top had caught his attention when he was still at primary school. He’d imagined sea captains, and ghosts, and elegant parties held there in years gone by. The house was the same as he remembered it from twenty years ago and the same thrill tingled down to his toes. It was an anachronism set amongst the bland and boring apartment blocks that overlooked the beach. The square boxy minimalist apartments that people forked out millions of dollars for these days only added to its appeal. For a while there the old house had spurred on his career dreams, and he’d decided he wanted to be an architect.

  Then after he’d rescued the cat and the litter of kittens from the drain behind their house at Rose Bay, he changed his mind and decided to study veterinary science. Of course all of this was enough to send his mother into one of her ‘nervy episodes’, because the expectation was that Sol would join their exclusive medical practice at Double Bay. With his grandfather and his father, he was destined to become the next young Dr Brown and pander to the whims of the matrons of Rose and Double Bay. He’d soon learned to shut his mouth about what his future would be. He’d almost finished his vet science degree when he’d become fascinated with psychology.

  Although Sol was almost a doctor—when he finished his doctorate his mother could put doctor in front of his name— it was lucky that his older brother Tobias had graduated with the required medical degree at Sydney University because, as his maternal grandfather was wont to tell him, ‘you just don’t cut the mustard, boy.’

  Or what he meant was that a study of psychology and an almost completed doctorate was not good enough for the esteemed Brown family of Vaucluse.

  The vet dream was on the backburner since Sol discovered psychology. Now he was at the final stage of his thesis and there would be another Dr Brown in the family.

  If I get my research completed in time.

  But it was the wrong sort of doctor to make his family happy.

  He should have know back in the days when he walked from Vaucluse to Bondi Beach so he could hang out with the friends he’d made at the local public school, that he was a misfit in his family. The boys he’d attended St Joey’s with— the private high school that he’d been forced to attend— were now all part of the ‘network’, and making their mark in the city or in high flying international careers. Sol was a tutor at Macquarie University, and ignored his mother’s comments that even if he had to follow “that career” surely he could be a professor. Her mouth always twisted in a funny grimace as she articulated the words. That career.

  He could almost have written a thesis on the psychology of his mother’s disapproval and what each expression conveyed. To put it in the old fashioned words of his grandfather, psychology just didn’t cut the mustard. Sometimes Sol would smile as he wondered what his mother would think of the topic of his thesis.

  But there was no fear of that ever happening. Anything studied away from his father and grandfather’s Alma Mater of Sydney University was not worthy of family interest.

  Sol was sure he’d been abandoned on his parent’s doorstep as a baby—like that litter of kittens he’d found when he was in Year Six—and that his parents had taken him in to avoid any scandal. Maybe he’d been born in the old house on top of the hill above the beach.

  But the one time he’d asked his mother if he was adopted, her professionally plucked eyebrows had arched and her mouth had formed a perfect O. Merely another question that had sent Mother—not being allowed to call her Mum like his mates called their mothers had only reinforced Sol’s idea that he was adopted—scurrying to the sideboard to the sherry decanter.

  Heaven forbid that anything would taint the esteemed Brown name.

  So even though he’d had to drive over sixty kilometers to answer the ad this afternoon—it had stated clearly to apply after five o’clock on Friday afternoon—he was buzzing with anticipation. The answer to his immediate problem, and the house he’d admired from afar for so many years.

  He jumped as the door opened in front of him, only half aware that he’d pressed the old fashioned doorbell as he’d mused about his family woes.

  ‘Oh um, hello,’ he said. Despite the chill wind and the water droplets running down from his hair, his face heated as he stared at the woman who opened the door. Although she was really pretty, she looked tired and a scowl pulled her pretty face into an unwelcoming expression.

  ‘Before you say a word,’ she said as he stared at her lush lips wondering how such terse words could come from such pretty lips, ‘I did not place an ad in the Bondi View.’

  SALLY’S TEMPER FLARED as she pushed the door shut. Or as she tried to push it shut. Her eyes widened when a brown suede desert boot wedged between the door and the frame.

  Desert boots? She hadn’t seen shoes like that since she was in high school. She stared at them.

  And brown corduroy jeans. Was this guy super trendy
and dressing retro, or was he a charity case? Who knew from the different types she’d had knocking at her door for the past hour.

  ‘Do you mind?’ Her words came from between gritted teeth as she tried to shove the door shut with both hands.

  ‘Actually, yes.’ The cultured voice was more confident now and the desert boot stayed wedged firmly between the old wooden door and the porch. And every second it stayed there her hot bath was getting colder. ‘I’ve come a long way to answer your ad.’

  Honestly, this was turning into the night from hell, to follow the day from hell. She’d taken the bus all the way to the other side of the city to run a class, and not one person had turned up. And then she’d missed the early bus home, and had sat in a cold and draughty coffee shop—with shit coffee—for an hour and a half until the next Bondi bus came through. She didn’t give a thought to being scared of the guy at the door. The constant stream of callers to her door had let her know that someone had used her address by mistake for some advertisement. If the truth be known, this guy would be wise to be scared of her because his foot in the door was really pissing her off.

  ‘It’s not my ad.’ Sally reiterated but the boot didn’t move. And when being pissed off was combined with cold and hunger—and the thought of her hot bath getting colder by the minute— it wasn’t going to be a good night.

  I should have gone to Hawaii.

  Since Sally had turned the bath taps on an hour ago, she’d met a procession of men, and two women, at the door, all claiming to be here about the “ad”. She was still damp and cold and now she was cranky and out of sorts. The taps had been on and off for an hour.

  And she was hungry too.

  Every time she’d come downstairs to answer the door her bath was getting colder. And the hot water system wasn’t terribly reliable either. There was a good chance it would have run out and the once steaming hot water in the bath tub was sure to be cold by now.

  ‘Look I have no idea about what ad you, or the other people who have interrupted my night, are talking about.’ Her voice was as cold as the water in the bath upstairs.