Beach House

by Annie Seaton

  His preference would be to stay in the hotel until he got his medical problem sorted but he had to put up with this for three months. He had to. This house had been in his family for almost one hundred years and although he wasn’t overly sentimental, he didn’t want to see it go. Even though there’d been the huge split in the family, it was still the house of his blood relations. He already had plans for a modern renovation. Hell, once the place was his—because he had every intention of buying Rosie’s share out when the three months was up—he’d get the builders in. Once it was modernised, it would make a great base. Even better if he was back surfing. If not—well he’d wait and see what happened.

  Taj called a taxi; his car was still in the car park under the hotel. He hadn’t been sure if there was anywhere to park it here but when Sally had given him a spare front door key she’d shown him a four car garage that was accessed by a lane way at the back of the house. As soon as the taxi arrived, he gave the three of them a quick wave from the hallway. Sally and Sonia waved back and Rosie ignored him.

  He’d headed back to the city. Dinner with Rick, a surfer from California, had cleared his head a bit. A few drinks, some laughs and lots of reminiscing about surfing trips and his good mood was restored.

  Almost. By the time he returned, the house was in darkness, apart from a low light burning in the front hall. He’d let himself in quietly and made his way up to his room.

  Rosie’s attitude had pissed him off. Okay, so it added to his guilt about not having seen Aunt Aggie for so long, but he’d had no idea that she was going to involve him in an inheritance battle.

  Now with the sun peeking through the gap in the drapes onto the wall behind him, he rolled over, pushed back the light cotton blanket and climbed out of the huge bed. Walking over to the window, he ignored the tug in his right knee. He had an appointment with the specialist this afternoon and he was anxious to get the news. If surgery was necessary, he wondered if the time out would count towards the three months. By his calculations, the three months were up on New Year’s Eve; he’d give old Mr. Pepper a call today.

  He pulled back the heavy drapes, wrinkling his nose at the cloying smell of incense that wafted around him. It seeped through the whole house. A glorious morning greeted him. Shafts of gold light shot into the sky behind the low clouds that hovered above the horizon. Lines of white-edged breakers rolled into the shore and the sea was dotted with black figures paddling their boards out through the lines of the swell to catch the first waves of the day. It was a perfect morning and brilliant waves were curling out wide.

  “Fuck.” Taj slammed into fist onto the window sill. All he wanted to do was grab a board and hit the waves, losing himself in the green caverns of water as they formed around him and pushed him towards the shore.

  If he couldn’t get in the waves, he’d go and sit on the sand and immerse himself in the salt and the spray. His suitcases were lined up along the wall and he reached for the small one that held his board shorts and T-shirts.

  As soon as he changed, he opened the door to the hall and looked out. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation with Rosie, although he knew it was inevitable. He paused and listened, but the house was quiet as though it, too, was sleeping. He slipped into the huge bathroom that Sonia had shown him last night, ignoring the underwear draped over the shower curtain.

  Five minutes later, he let himself out the front door and stood on the porch trying to remember which way he’d gone to the beach as a youngster. Across the road, a small park fronted the rocks and he spotted a beach access sign. He looked around as he crossed the road. Blocks of units led from the old house on the hill down to the intersection; he hadn’t noticed how much the street had been modernised as he drove up in the rain the other afternoon. His plan to renovate the house would go down very well. Once he reached the park, he turned to look at the house and a feeling of nostalgia flooded through him.

  The building stood gracefully on the top of the hill, the weathered timber glowing warm and rich in the morning sunlight. He leaned back and looked up; he’d forgotten about the widow’s walk, the small railed platform above the top storey. He caught his breath as his mother’s voice filled his head as though she was there beside him.

  “Your great, great grandfather married a girl from America and she insisted that he put the widow’s walk up there. She loved watching the sea.”

  Hell, he’d been so immersed in his surfing and clawing his way to the top, he’d pushed family thoughts from his mind. It had helped with the grief of losing his parents in that awful accident on Highway One. Cutting ties with his family and his memories had been deliberate. It hurt less than remembering.

  Maybe Aunt Aggie had a reason for leaving him a part of the house. It had reconnected him with family and, although it was still a huge part of him, the ache of loss was bearable now.

  Taj turned thoughtfully away from the house and looked for the steps that led down to the rocks and along to the northern edge of Bondi Beach. The tide was low and the rock platform was dry as he carefully made his way along to the two ocean pools that were built into the rocks. Swimmers crawled their way through the water in that distinctive lazy Aussie swim style, and others who had finished their morning swim lay on the rocks letting the warm sun dry them.

  “Gidday.”

  He breathed in deeply and smiled back at the jogger who’d spoken to him. God, it’s good to be home. Even if he couldn’t surf, he would enjoy being back in Australia. As much as he loved touring the world, he loved his home country. The friendliness, the irreverent and iconic humour, the mateship were unique.

  And the beaches. The best in the world. He put his hand to his eyes and absorbed the brilliant blue of the water. The only other place he’d seen that depth of colour was in Bora Bora in Tahiti. As he watched, a young boy caught a medium size wave that had formed off the point. Admiration for the surfer’s skill filled him as the teenager sliced his way across the top of the wave before he turned and headed down the face, gaining speed as the spray flew around his board. The wave curled and he disappeared into the tube and Taj held his breath, finally letting it out with a whoop as the boy shot out of the left hand side of the gas chamber.

  His knee held up as he hurried down the last few steps leading to the sand and watched as the boy paddled back out to catch the next wave.

  Another professional in the making.

  Taj knew how hard it was to crack the circuit these days. He’d give the lad a word of encouragement when he came in. He walked over to the low line of rocks and found a good perch to sit and enjoy the sun and be entertained by the wave riders.

  The boy sliced up the next wave and Taj found his whole attention focused on the graceful movement as he turned into the right section of the wave ready to ride it to shore. The third wave he caught brought him closer to the northern edge of the beach and Taj caught his breath as the point break brought the surfer closer to him and he realised the surfer wasn’t a boy. It was a girl.

  And not a teenager.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” He muttered under his breath as he stood and watched as Rosie paddled through the whitewater to the edge of the sand where he waited.

  ROSIE HAD NOTICED TAJ walking along the edge of the ocean pools as soon as he’d stepped into the sunlight. Even with the slight limp she knew that walk well; she’d watched him on enough surfing shows over the years. The only thing that was missing was the surfboard beneath his arm and she wondered how bad his injury was.

  The distinctive swagger and the loose blond curls confirmed for her that Taj Brown was now sitting on the beach watching the surfers. If anyone else recognized him, he’d be mobbed.

  Her mood was mellow and she wasn’t going to let his presence on the beach upset her. If he was going to live in the house, and it looked like he was, she was just going to have to wear it.

  She reached the shallows and stood, tucking her board beneath one arm as she waded to the sand. Her wet hair stuck to her ch
eek and she reached back with one hand and wound it into a ponytail at the back of her head. As she squeezed the salt water from her hair, cold trickles ran down her neck and she shivered.

  It was the cold, not Taj watching her from the edge of the path that sent goose bumps running up her arms beneath her wet suit. Her nipples pebbled as the shiver continued down her back.

  Thank goodness, I put the wet suit on. She’d briefly considered surfing in her bikini this morning. If Taj was going to make a habit of coming down to the beach of a morning, she’d wear a wet suit for the whole three months.

  Focusing on her breathing and staying calm, she walked across the glistening sand. A small child ran ahead of her scattering the seagulls, which took to the air squawking raucously. Three joggers waved as they passed her and she waved back. Her mornings on the beach always followed the same pattern. Familiar faces, friendly greetings. She couldn’t imagine beginning her day any other way...or anywhere else.

  “Hello.” Rosie stopped beside him and wedged the end of her small board into the sand.

  “Morning.” His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “You’re a surprise packet.”

  “I am?”

  “Surfing. Somehow, it’s not what I expected.” He reached up and pushed the hair back from his eyes. The wind was increasing and the golden curls whipped around his face. Rosie focused on that, even though her eyes wanted to stray down to the muscles outlined by the snug fitting white T-shirt.

  “What did you expect?”

  His shoulders lifted in a casual shrug and she gave in, letting her gaze settle on the broad chest with a sprinkling of blond hair peeking out of the V at the base of his throat.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I suppose you’re used to the tanned, blonde surf-girls.” She looked down at the strands of black hair that blended in with her wet suit. “Even in the summer, I don’t tan. I keep the sun cream manufacturers in business with my fair skin.”

  “You’re very good. A natural surfer.”

  She opened her eyes wide, surprised by the easy praise that came from his lips. “Thanks. Aggie bought me my first board ten years ago. On my thirteenth birthday.”

  His laugh was pleasant and sent those shivers running back down her spine, despite the warmth of the morning sun. Usually by now, she would have peeled the wet suit off for the walk up the hill, but today she’d wear it home.

  “Me too. I was here on a holiday. I guess that’s about the time I met you. That would make you twenty-three now?”

  “Yes. Five years younger than you.” Damn, she’d let slip she knew how old he was but hopefully he’d assume she’d done the addition in her head. She rushed on with a lighthearted joke. “So you’ve got five years surfing practice on me. Maybe there’s hope for me yet to hit the circuit.”

  “You’re good enough. Have you ever thought about it?”

  Rosie laughed and shook her head. “No. And I couldn’t leave Aggie.”

  The smile left his face and he stared over her head toward the horizon. “I’m sorry you had the burden alone. If I’d known, I would have helped out. I feel guilty that I didn’t even know she was sick.”

  “It was a sad ending to her life.”

  Taj pushed himself off the rock he was leaning against as Rosie lifted her board. “I’ll walk back up with you.”

  He fell into an easy step beside her as she headed for the path that led to the pools. “I lost touch with Aggie and everything I left in Sydney when my parents died.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. And I’m sorry I don’t remember you.” Rosie meant it; things would have been easier now if Aggie had mentioned him, or if she’d known to contact him when Aggie first got sick.

  Taj’s voice was low as they walked along the edge of the pool that sat naturally in the rock platform. “My parents died in a road crash in California.”

  “I can’t believe that Aggie never mentioned it.”

  He shot her a glance. “Things in this family have never been smooth. That’s why I was so surprised that she included me in her will. Maybe she was trying to make amends.”

  “What for?”

  “When my Dad’s uncle married her, there was a split in the family. I don’t know why. My parents never talked about it. Something else happened when I was about fourteen and we never came to visit again.”

  “She was always happy, so don’t feel bad.” Rosie hitched a breath as a sob threatened. “Even when the dementia took hold, she was always happy. She used to call me Maureen when I’d visit.”

  Rosie turned as his breath hissed in.

  “That was my Mum’s name.”

  “So see, she must have been thinking about you.” She tucked her board up higher as they reached the steps. “And you were in the will, so don’t feel bad.” Not about that anyway. Over the next three months, she was going to do her best to see if she could get the money together, somehow, to buy out his share. There was no way she would let the house be sold to a developer. Because that’s what would happen. The house occupied a prime piece of real estate at the edge of the most famous Aussie beach and they’d been after it for years.

  Taj’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts as they reached the top of the steps. “Can I carry your board?”

  “No, it’s fine. Thanks anyway.”

  They walked in silence until they reached the park across from the house.

  “So tell me about Sonia—or is it Lily?—and Sally? Why weren’t they in the will too?” Taj paused at the gate that opened into the park and she looked up at him.

  “Why would she?”

  “I assumed that they were foster children too? Like you were?”

  Rosie pursed her lips as temper threatened to take over. They’d managed to have a civil conversation for fifteen minutes and she’d even felt sad for him when he talked about his parents. But the way he said ‘foster’ children pushed her buttons. It was as though he was trying to remind her of where she stood in the scheme of things.

  “No.”

  She strode off ahead of him not waiting for him to keep up, but by the time she reached the road, he’d caught her up. As she looked down the hill to make sure the road was clear, a strong hand gripped her arm.

  “Stop.”

  “What?” She shook him off and began to step out but he grabbed her arm again.

  “For someone who lives in a house of sweetness and light, you can get awfully pissy.” His voice was cold as she glared at him. “What did I say to upset you this time?”

  “Nothing.” She pulled away and hitched the board up again. It was getting heavy.

  “Yes I did. Or I mean, yes you are. Moody, that is.” Hs ran his hand though his hair again and a pang of regret hit Rosie.

  Okay, time for honesty.

  “It was the way you said ‘foster’ children.”

  “I don’t get the way you think.” Taj shook his head as she looked up at him. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just wondering about the other two in the house.”

  “We were friends at high school. They weren’t Aggie’s children.” Rosie kept her voice strong. “I was the last one that Aggie ever took on. And she lost touch with the earlier kids.I considered myself very lucky.”

  “You were.” He held up his hands as she opened her mouth. “And I don’t mean anything else when I say that. She was a fine woman and you were lucky to have her.”

  Rosie kept her voice low. “Sally and Sonia only moved in to help me with the costs. Because Aggie’s property is valued so high—and I don’t mean that in a greedy way— shoot, that’s not the right word. I mean I’m not thinking of the place for me. Or what it’s worth for me.” Rosie struggled to find the right words to explain. “Do you know anything about how aged care works? For a place in a facility you have to put up a bond and it’s worked out on how much your property is worth. Because this place is so valuable I had to find a bond of half a million to secure Aggie a spot.”

  Taj looked at h
er with disbelief written all over his face. “I had no idea. I thought people just went into aged care facilities.”

  “Yeah, it’s not something that you really know anything about until you need to. If Aggie had gone straight into the dementia ward when she first went in, there would have been no cost. They call it high care.”

  “So, how did you find the money?”

  “Aggie had organized a power of attorney and enduring guardianship for me. She was pretty switched on before she had the stroke. I was able to borrow in her name against the house and pay the bond to get her a place there. It’s an interest-only loan and the girls moved in to help me out. They pay rent for living here and also business rent for using the place for their classes and stuff.” She lifted her chin. “And I pay rent too. It’s only fair.”

  “Does Mr. Pepper know this?”

  Rosie shrugged. “Probably not. I did it all through the bank.”

  “You need to tell him. It might make a difference to everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes, maybe he can sort something out to get you out of the debt.”

  “Or maybe he can sort something out so you get the house quicker.” Rosie jutted her chin out. The feeling of being in control of her life and future was slipping away with every word he said. Three months she could deal with if she had to; it would give her time to get used to the idea of losing everything. Unless they sold, or she let Taj buy her out, she had nothing.

  “I didn’t mean that.” His voice held steely control.

  Alright for Mr. Surfer Boy here. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

  “I’m going for a shower. I don’t want to talk about it.” Rosie was just holding herself together. She turned away from him and strode across the road leaving him staring after her.

  Chapter 9