Beach Music

by Annie Seaton

  ‘You are not. It’s night time.’

  Another giggle. ‘So how’s your day been, Sal? Still sitting miserably in the Sydney winter or has life in the beach house livened up a bit?’

  ‘I’ll give you livened up! I hope you have no plans to come back to Australia, Sonia Smith, because I’ll kill you if you do.’

  ‘Oh, sweets, come on that’s a bit harsh.’

  ‘Tantric massage, Sonia! Tantric massage? Honestly whatever possessed you to put that ad in the paper?’ Sally’s voice rose to a screech. ‘And don’t deny it, I know you did.’

  ‘Have you had lots of interesting enquiries already?’

  Sally huffed an impatient sigh. ‘What do you reckon?’

  ‘I did it for you. You needed something to get you out of that boring life you’re stuck in. I worry about you. You’re going to end up like Aunty Aggie. If you’re not careful.’

  ‘Dead?’

  ‘No, silly. A single spinster.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with that. She was happy.’

  ‘I only did it because I care about you, Sal. I’ll put Rosie on. She wants to say hello.’ Loud music filtered through the phone as she waited.

  ‘Coward,’ Sally muttered.

  ‘Hi, Sal. Are you okay? Sonia told me what she did. She was a bit naughty.’

  ‘Naughty’s not the word! Where are you and what is that awful thumping music?’

  ‘We’re in a nightclub. Taj offered to mind the twins, and Sonia is determined to get laid while she’s here.’

  ‘Get laid? I’ll give her “get laid” when she comes home. You have no idea of the procession of men and women I’ve turned away from the door tonight.’ Sally glanced up and caught a twitch on Sol’s lips before he schooled his face back into a serious expression. ‘Anyway I’ve got to go. I have company.’

  ‘Ooh, Sonia will be so pleased to hear that. Tell all. What’s he like?’

  ‘Why do you assume it’s a he?’

  ‘Because Sonia read the tarot cards for you. Now tell me what he’s like.’

  Sally knew that Sonia would be listening in, so she put her hand over the phone for a minute and whispered to Sol. ‘Please ignore what I’m about to say.’

  ‘Okay,’ she lifted her hand and dropped her voice to a sexy whisper. ‘Even though it’s only seven o’clock here, he’s asleep beside me.’ She let her eyes linger on Sol’s face. ‘He’s got short-cropped blond hair and the most beautiful blue eyes, surrounded by long black eyelashes. High cheekbones and lovely lush lips.’ She slowly dropped her eyes to his shoulders and down to his chest. ‘Broad shoulders, and well-muscled arms, and a gorgeous tan.’ She held the giggle back as her eyes stopped at the table top— it was all up to her imagination from here on in—but damn if those warm flutters didn’t set up a beating in her tummy, and heading south. ‘An all over tan, Rosie. His thighs are powerful, and he has the most gorgeous feet. As for the rest of him, I’ll leave that to your imagination but trust me....’

  Sally wasn’t surprised when Sonia’s indignant voice came back on the phone. ‘You’re laying it on too thick. The ad only went in a couple of days ago.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.’ Sally was staring to enjoy herself. ‘Sol came to the door this afternoon to see about a Tantric massage. We hit it off straight away, and he booked in, and well—one thing led to another—’

  ‘One word. Bull. Shit.’

  ‘That’s two.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased you’re not cross anymore, anyway. I‘ll see you next week and we’ll read the cards again.’

  ‘Oh, I’m still cross with you. For you thinking you knew what was best for me. Oh, hang on. Sol’s just waking up. I’ll put him on.’ She spoke quickly. ‘Sonia is my sister. I hope you don’t mind agreeing with what I told her?’

  Sol’s eyes were dancing and he nodded as Sally passed the phone over. ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘HI SONIA.’ SOL HELD Sally’s eye as he waited for a reply, but there was silence. Gradually a wary voice spoke.

  ‘Sol? Sol who? And what are you doing in my sister’s bed?’

  He made sure his voice was deep and sexy. He was supposed to have just woken up, presumably after a bout of energetic sex. ‘Solomon Brown, and Sally invited me to her bed.’ He grinned at Sally as a choking noise came over the phone. ‘I’ll pass you back to her now but I’ll look forward to meeting you. I’ll be around for a while.’

  He winked at Sally as he handed the phone back. He hadn’t had this much fun for a long time.

  ‘Bye, Sonia. Someone needs my attention more than you do.’

  Her voice was a throaty purr and Sol blinked as a rush of desire coursed through his veins. But it receded as she dropped the phone and stared at him, all playfulness gone.

  ‘Thank you. I’m sorry I dragged you into that, but I really needed to teach my sister a lesson.’ Finally a sexy little giggle erupted from those pretty lips. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she jumped on the first plane to come home and check you out.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Hawaii.’

  ‘And I’m guessing she put the ad in the paper, and you don’t really practise Tantric massage?’

  Sally nodded. ‘Right on both counts.’

  Sol dropped his shoulders as disappointment chased away any lingering thoughts of desire. Finding a local practitioner almost on his doorstep had solved the dilemma of his deadline. But turned out it was only a joke.

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was a silly joke she played. I apologise for dragging you into it. I owe you for playing along.’

  Sol waved his hand. ‘That’s okay. I’m just disappointed that this avenue closed.’

  ‘What do you mean? You wanted a Tantric massage?’

  ‘Oh, no. That’s not why I came.’

  Sally stood and picked up the mugs. ‘Would you like another cup of tea?’ She shook her head as she looked at him. ‘I am turning into Aunt Aggie,’ she muttered before she walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. ‘Sol, would you like a glass of wine before you leave, and you can tell me what you mean?’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She nodded. ‘My bath water will be stone cold by now. It’s still blowing a gale outside. We need something more than a cup of tea to warm us up. That oven’s not going to do much.’

  She shivered as he watched her. ‘Do you have any other heating in the house?’

  ‘Yes, there’s a gorgeous open fireplace in the living room, but I don’t have any kindling split, and I didn’t fancy going outside. Then by the time I answered the door about ten times, it was dark.

  Sol stood. ‘Where is it? Show me the way.’

  ‘Oh, no. I can’t impose on you for wood chopping. It’s bad enough that I roped you into a disagreement with my sister.’

  He walked over to the back door. ‘Hey, I’ll have you know that was my job until I left home. You might have wondered where these “well-muscled arms” come from. I was the kindling splitter champion in our household.’

  ‘If you’re sure, I would really appreciate that. There’s a lot of winter ahead yet.’ She followed him to the back door, as a smile tilted her lips. ‘And I guess that contributed to the broad shoulders too.’

  ‘Spot on.’ A warm feeling settled in his chest as they laughed together. ‘Look, no need for you to come out in the cold. Just point me in the right direction.’

  After she told him where to find the door at the side of the small wood shed, and where the light switch was, she tilted her head to the side. ‘While you’re doing that, I’ll cook something for us.’

  Sol wasn’t going to argue. As usual he was starving.

  Sally stood beside the door as he put his head down and headed for the small shed. He pushed open the door and stepped back as a swathe of cobwebs brushed across his face. Reaching out he found the light switch that Sally had told him was there. The shed was full of logs and the axe was hanging on the hook where she said h
e'd find it, so he rolled up his sleeves and within ten minutes had a good pile of kindling chopped—enough for tonight plus some. He put the remainder of the pine chip slivers into the box that was sitting on the bench. Balancing the kindling on his forearm, he reached out for a newspaper off the pile that was beside the kindling box before putting his head down and making a quick dash back to the kitchen.

  The smell of garlic and tomatoes made him twitch his nose and his stomach grumbled in response. Sally was waiting at the door and she held it open as he ducked through it.

  ‘No, I think the rain has let up a little bit but it’s still freezing cold out there.

  She led him through the kitchen, down a long hallway and into a large living room. She flicked the light switch on and a myriad of magical lights danced immediately across the walls. He looked up to a magnificent chandelier full of crystals hanging from a beautiful ceiling rose.

  ‘This house is everything I ever imagined,’ he whispered almost reverently.

  ‘You know the house?’ Sally followed him over to the fireplace on the wall that backed onto the hallway.

  ‘Yes. I’ve lived close by my whole life. I’ve loved this house since I was a kid.’

  ‘It is beautiful. Just a shame it takes so much to keep it the way it should be looked after.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘I thought you said you drove from Peats Ridge?’

  ‘I did, but I’m house—I mean farm—sitting.’ He crouched in front of the fireplace and scrunched up some pages of the newspaper into a tight ball. ‘Does the house belong to your family?’

  ‘Oh no. I just rent, but Sonia and I have lived here for a long time. Our best friend and her husband own it, but Taj surfs on the world circuit so they don’t spend much time here.’

  ‘Not Taj Brown?’ He looked back up at her as he scrunched the newspaper and rearranged the kindling.

  ‘Yes. The surfer. Have you heard of him.’ She shook her head. ‘That was a silly question. Everyone’s heard of Taj.’

  ‘I have and he’s a third cousin or something. From a different branch of the family, but I’ve never met him. I didn’t know he owned this place.’ He let out a low whistle and looked up from laying the kindling in a horizontal pattern on top of the newspaper.

  Sally looked at him strangely and he wondered if she thought he was making up the connection to gain brownie points.

  ‘Do you have any matches handy here?’

  ‘Yeah, they're in the kitchen. I'll go and get them for you.’

  By the time she came back he had the makings of a fire ready with the newspapers and the kindling. As Sally handed him the matches her fingers brushed his and that warm feeling settled back in his chest again. He was looking forward to sitting down and having a wine and a meal with her; he hadn't encountered someone so interesting for a long time.

  If the truth be known he spent most of his days at the university in the small cubbyhole that was called an office or back at the flat where the space was not much bigger than his office. The current favour he was doing for Dave, his mate up at Peats Ridge, gave him lots of space, but the problems that came with it were making his life a bit difficult this week.

  Her sister had called Sally boring, and Sol knew he fitted the boring mould way more than she ever would.

  Maybe their conversation would spark him up a bit. He’d do his best to sound interesting.

  ‘I’m pleased I came to your house, even though it isn't going to help me with my research.’ Sol frowned. For the first time since he’d been at the university, disquiet replaced his usual complacency. His supervisor had warned him on Monday that he was cutting it fine. Three years of study would be wasted if you didn't get his thesis written. He had all the research finished but until he’d completed interviews with a practitioner he couldn’t write up his conclusions, even though Sol was sure of what he would discover out in the field.

  The fire took hold as a gust of wind roared down the chimney and the windows rattled. He crossed back to the table and sat beside Sally again.

  ‘I guess I’d better tell you what I need from you.’ He sat back and folded his arms. ‘Or what I hope you can do for me.’

  Chapter 5

  Sally waited while Sol Brown gathered his thoughts. He fascinated her; for such a good looking man, he was dressed strangely. Old fashioned, like his manner and the precise way he spoke.

  Aunt Aggie would have loved him.

  Sally frowned as a thought struck her. ‘You said you were related to Taj. So that means you’re probably related to Aunt Aggie. Or were, before she died?’

  Sol shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I grew up not far from here, but I don’t remember ever visiting here when I was a child.’ He tipped his head to the side. ‘So is there really a ghost in the house or were you just trying to scare off an unwelcome visitor?’ His grin was wide and a rush of warmth settled in Sally’s chest.

  It was the first time she’d felt warm all day. Before she could answer there was a clatter from upstairs, and a wry smile crossed her lips. ‘We like to kid ourselves, but it’s probably the pipes in this old house. Who knows?’ She lifted her shoulders in a gentle shrug. ‘Okay, Mr Brown. Come back into the kitchen with me while I serve up, you can tell me why you thought I could help you. Then we can eat back here in front of the fire.’ Sally had decided she could trust this stranger. He seemed genuine, and she owed him for chopping the kindling and getting the fire going.

  Sol followed her back into the kitchen and then put the wine glass down, before he picked it up again, his fingers playing nervously on the table top. Finally a chuckle broke the silence as he shook his head.

  ‘I hope you find it amusing. When you said that you ran classes, and that you also had a group of eighty-year olds, I was under the impression that you were actually practising Tantric massage.’

  ‘No, sorry, I’m a plain old yoga teacher.’ Sally stood and opened the fridge, and took out some cheese to go on the sauce bubbling on the stove. ‘And you wanted to come to a class to see Tantric massage?’

  ‘On no.’ This time the head shake was vehement. ‘I simply wanted to interview you. To get the practitioner’s point of view.’

  Sally lifted a saucepan from the hanging rack about the stove, and spooned in enough soup for two. ‘And why would you need to interview me about that?’

  ‘Because I’m doing a thesis, and my final report is due at the end of the month.’

  ‘This month?’

  He nodded.

  ‘But today’s the twenty-first.’

  This time the nod was glum. ‘I know. Nine days.’

  Sally moved the saucepan onto the flame and stirred the sauce. ‘So tell me about your thesis.’ She closed her eyes as he began speaking. She could have listened to his voice all night. Deep, warm and soothing.

  ‘My second degree is psychology. I decided that vet science wasn’t for me but this week, I wonder if I should have stayed with it.’

  ‘Because you’re running out of time for your thesis?’ She put the spoon on the plate at the edge of the stove, and sat at the table.

  ‘No, because of the animals.’

  Sally picked up her wine, and took a sip, letting the full bodied red burst on her tongue. She was getting used to the way his conversation moved all over the place; she hadn’t enjoyed herself this much for a long time.

  A very long time. Pre Blake the bastard days, if she was honest.

  ‘Okay, so what do animals have to do with your thesis on massage?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not on massage. My thesis is on “Ayurvedic Therapy and the Psychological Dimension of Illness.”

  ‘Um, what does that mean?’ Sally wrinkled up her nose. ‘And what does that sort of science have to do with animals?’

  ‘What I needed for the final research was some actual enlightening on Tantric Massage, the non-sexual, yoga application. And the animals have nothing to do with that, of course. They’re at the farm I’m minding this week.’

  ‘At Peats
Ridge.’ She was learning to follow his conversation as it darted about.

  He nodded. ‘Yes. I was mad to take it on, with it being so far from the university. I’ve not had time to be in the library much this week, so when I saw your ad—well, I thought I could get a hands-on—oops, poor choice of words— a first hand—’

  Sally couldn’t help herself. She actually snorted before it turned into a laugh. ‘So you’re really sure you weren’t after a good old bout of Tantric massage.’

  It surprised her to see the colour in his cheeks. His very nice cheeks. He had a cute cleft in his chin, and she was tempted to reach out and touch the dimple.

  ‘No. Of course not. I told you’—the voice was very precise now—‘interview only.’

  ‘I might be able to help,’ she said slowly. ‘I’ve got a lot of notes upstairs in my study. When I trained at the college, I actually did Ayurvedic massage as one of my subjects. And I’ve implemented a lot of what I’ve learned in my classes—particularly with older people at the home.’

  ‘Really?’ As Sol sat forward, his whole face lit up. ‘That would be lifesaving for me.’

  ‘I’m happy to help, but it might take me a while to dig it all out. I’ve got some references to a lot of academic research that might save you some time.’ The sauce began to bubble on the stove and she hurried across and lifted the pot. ‘Leave it with me and I’ll give you a call in a couple of days.’

  She spooned the sauce into two bowls, sprinkled them with cheese and picked up the last two bread rolls that were in the bread basket beside the stove. Sol stood and took the bowls from her and she led the way back to the fire.

  ‘I’ll pay you of course, for your trouble.’

  Sally waved a dismissive hand. ‘No, you won’t.’

  ‘Well, I’ll owe you.’

  The glimmer of an idea began to take shape and she smiled as she sat on the sofa. ‘I might just take you up on that. But not until you meet your deadline.’

  Chapter 6

  Sally waited for Sol to reply to her text. She’d deliberately left it an extra day because she didn’t want him to think that she was going to drop everything and find the notes for him. She was busy too, or she wished she was—the frequency of appointments had deteriorated along with the weather. Plus she’d spent two days telling herself that he was a man, and she had no interest in him, that way.