Silver Lining

by Diana Simmonds

  “Yeah, we better,” Amanda said and couldn’t help but feel a twinkle of hope that Clancy had not dismissed her forever. She got to her feet, suddenly aware of her nakedness; the back of her neck prickled with self-consciousness as she made her way to the rock to retrieve her shirt and shorts. She glanced back and Clancy was watching her, head to one side, a smile on her lips that seemed to be both amused and perplexed at once.

  “You sure you wouldn’t rather be in Sydney?”

  Amanda had pulled on her shorts but paused in the middle of buttoning the fly. She stuck her hands on her hips and looked hard at Clancy.

  “What part of ‘no I don’t fancy her, no I am not in any kind of relationship with her’ don’t you understand?” she demanded. “I made a mistake. I will probably never drink again. Well, not for at least a couple of hours anyway. I will have to have some dealings with Margo because she really was incredibly generous with her investor friends, but I have to tell you, if she comes calling, I would like for my mother to tell her I’m washing my hair for the next decade. Or that I’ve been abducted by the damn aliens. Is that clear?”

  Clancy had already pulled on her shorts and her arms were above her head, holding up her T-shirt. She waved her fingers through the armholes making peace signs. Her breasts were taut and pretty, Amanda could not help but notice as Clancy peered at her from inside the T-shirt.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, half laughing. “You and Margo are not an item, but you don’t have to do anything this evening, you should spend some time with Eleanor. That’s what I really mean.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” Amanda said impulsively. “You weren’t talking about me helping out this evening, it was about Margo, admit it.”

  The words hung between them like the midges spinning in the lowering shafts of late afternoon light. Amanda drew in a breath and held it, wondering whether she had taken a step too far. That she had pushed into the open what she herself longed for, and what had nothing to do with Clancy’s feelings and thoughts. Blood pounded in her ears with the effort of holding the breath and she stared at Clancy who stared right back. Another long moment passed in thrumming tension, then Clancy’s face melted from the eyes to the mouth into a smile that reached right down into Amanda’s heart and started a smoldering fire. Then Clancy shrugged her salt-sticky body into the T-shirt and ran her fingers through her long, water-darkened blond curls.

  “Okay, you win this time,” she said airily. “You’re right. I don’t like the idea of you being involved with Margo. But,” she held up her hand, “I don’t want you to think I’m being an interfering old hen. It’s none of my business and you can tell me to get lost.” She started up the beach, walking away from Amanda. “Would you like me to fix your kerchief when we get back to the house?”

  The words floated over Clancy’s shoulder as Amanda watched her, mouth open, dual feelings of elation and disappointment vying for first place in her heart. It was a curious sensation. She does like me. She does care. But there’s a “but” and there’s always a “but” with Clancy.

  “Wait for me!” she yelled after Clancy as her legs suddenly stopped being paralyzed and began to obey her once more. She ran through the heavy sand, struggling to catch up with Clancy who showed no signs of slowing. As Amanda reached her at the foot of the steps, she panted, “I want to remind you how much I like hens and how good I am with them, even interfering old ones.”

  Clancy laughed but kept going upward. Amanda stopped to catch her breath and to watch the neat ass wiggle and the muscles in the long legs ripple as Clancy ascended each steep stone stair. Amanda groaned aloud at the sight then set off after the maddening woman, wondering whether it would always be one step forward, two steps back between them.

  * * *

  “How about we crack open your duty free gin, Mom?”

  Eleanor smiled up at Amanda from the veranda couch where she and Jessie were deeply ensconced and unwilling to move.

  “I thought you’d never ask, honey. Malcolm bought a six-pack of tonic water this morning and it’s in that dinky little bar fridge. I’m going to get us one of those for Heron Creek. Imagine that sitting on the porch in the corner, filled with goodies and waitin’ to be loved!”

  “It is amazing that you’ve never thought of it before, Mom. Would you like a long one or what?”

  “I’m easy but don’t you go giving me a floater, okay?”

  “You are going to explain that, aren’t you, Eleanor?” Clancy pushed her way out the screen door carefully shepherding a laden tray in front of her.

  “It’s a family joke,” Eleanor said. “Except I didn’t think it was funny. Still don’t.”

  Amanda snorted as she went about the makings of Eleanor’s drink. “It was Andrew’s idea of being the big man,” she said tersely as she sloshed Bombay Sapphire onto ice cubes in four long glasses.

  “Oh, hush up, Amanda, your brother meant well. But,” she patted Clancy’s knee as she wriggled into the small remaining space beside Eleanor, “he can be a real pain in the ass. And that’s the truth.”

  From the lengthening shadows at the end of the veranda Malcolm looked up from his painstaking tending of the barbecue and chimed in, “I’ve only met him once, sis, and Eleanor is speaking the truth. He’s a pain in the ass. Sorry Eleanor.”

  “Honey, don’t be sorry. I’m afraid it’s true. Anyhow, getting back to the floater. It’s really one of his lesser crimes, but it was damned annoying. Andrew thought I was drinking too much and—”

  “And he thought a gin before dinner and a bottle of wine between us with dinner was the slippery slope to alcoholic perdition,” Amanda said snippily as she brought her laden small drinks tray and offered it to her mother and Clancy.

  “And you would definitely know about alcoholic perdition, am I right?” Safe under the protection of Eleanor’s encircling arm, Clancy looked up at Amanda and grinned wickedly.

  “Grab one of these before I empty the whole damn lot over your head,” said Amanda, smiling sweetly at Clancy.

  Eleanor and Clancy each took a glass from the tray and Eleanor sniffed hers appreciatively.

  “Smells good, honey,” she said and took a sip. “Mmm, excellent. Now,” she said, and ruffled Clancy’s curls. “A floater is when you give your lush of a mama a glass of tonic water with a splash of gin on top. It floats and the poor old fool isn’t supposed to realize she’s been dealt a dud.”

  “Pure bastardry,” said Clancy in between a giggle and a slug of her drink. “Does he know you know?”

  “Darn tootin’ he does,” said Amanda tartly. “First time he did it to me I took a sip, figured it out and poured most of the bottle into my glass. It was undrinkable but I did it.”

  “They’ve always clashed,” said Eleanor with a sigh. “But I guess you’ve worked that out by now.”

  “She’s good at clashing,” said Clancy, a beguiling smile lighting her face as she looked up at Amanda.

  “Who’s for piping hot chili prawns? And I’ve got shrimp for you, Eleanor, of course!” Malcolm appeared out of the veranda twilight and set down a platter heaped with steaming, fragrant crustaceans on the low table in front of Eleanor and Clancy. “What else do we need?” He surveyed the table. “Got drinks, plates, bowl for the shells. Paper napkins?”

  “Here.” Amanda dropped a pile of napkins on the table and held out her tray to him. “And have a floater, why don’t you.”

  Eleanor chortled and choked on her drink and Clancy patted her back solicitously while she regained her breath.

  “I have never known such a bunch of bickering children,” Eleanor gasped. “I can only suppose you really do adore one another or you wouldn’t be such horrors.”

  The silence that followed was suddenly broken by a cicada and then another and another, then Malcolm pulled up a chair, sat down and said, “We do, Eleanor, we do. More than some of us will admit.”

  Amanda and Clancy said nothing and avoided each other’s eyes, then Clancy whacked Jessie’s paw
where it lay on Eleanor’s lap. “Move up, damn dog,” she said briskly. “Or better still, get off the couch.”

  Jessie withdrew her paw and turned tragic eyes up to Eleanor who stroked her head and murmured in her ear, “Don’t you pay her any mind, Jess. You stay right where you are. Shame on you Clancy, this dog is exhausted.”

  Clancy groaned her disbelief. “I suppose that cat is knackered too. He’s only slept fifteen hours today.”

  “Sleep deprivation is a serious condition for felines,” Amanda said as she carefully scooped Thomas Cat to the side of the spare chair and snuggled in beside him. “There now, Thomas, you just be comfortable.” The cat stretched out his four legs against Amanda’s thigh and yawned widely before curling into a perfect round black mound once again.

  “That cat’s got ignore down to a fine art,” Clancy said, but her eyes were on Amanda.

  * * *

  “So what’s going on with you, honey?”

  Perched on the end of her mother’s bed, her bare legs curled beneath a crocheted shawl, Amanda knew Eleanor was watching her from her carefully constructed nest of puffed up, sun-scented pillows. She fiddled with the shawl while trying to come up with an answer to the question and eventually looked up and smiled into her mother’s straight-shooting gaze. “I’m having a good time, Mom,” she began. “It’s weird, but I’ve got myself involved with the community and you remember I wrote you about my idea for a co-op and investment in the town?” Eleanor nodded. “Well, it’s happening. I really think it all could work and Two Moon Bay will be somewhere people will know about for all the right reasons. The global meltdown seems to be affecting Australia quite differently than it is back home and that’s really helping.”

  “So does that mean this government intervention I’ve been reading about is working?”

  “It is. And I think it’s really affecting the way people think about what’s happening. They’re not scared, and Australia hasn’t got itself in the subprime mess either.”

  “Why’s that?

  “Their banks aren’t affected like ours are because government regulations made it impossible for them to get involved.”

  “Regulations, hey? That sounds like big government to me.” Eleanor smiled wryly at Amanda who squirmed and grinned at her mother.

  “I know, I know. All this is anathema to the way I was taught and the way I’ve worked, and you know what? I prefer it this way and I’m really proud of what I hope we might be able to achieve here.”

  Eleanor reached out and squeezed Amanda’s foot through the multicolored shawl.

  “And guess what, honey? I’m really proud of you for figuring all this out for yourself and for having the guts to say so.”

  Behind Amanda the door creaked and opened as Thomas Cat pushed his way into the room. He leapt on the bed, rubbed his chin on Amanda’s outstretched hand then made his way daintily up to Eleanor and buffed her chin with his forehead.

  “That creature is faithless,” Amanda remarked, happily.

  “He’s a cat, what do you expect?” Eleanor drew the animal into a hug and he flopped back in her arms and closed his eyes, his purr sounding like a buzz saw in the quiet night.

  “And what about the rest of you, sweetie? Have you heard from Natalie?”

  “No, and I don’t expect to. She took the money and I have no idea where she is now.”

  “Does that hurt?”

  Amanda stared into space and considered the question for a moment before a sigh escaped and she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. No, Mom, it doesn’t hurt a bit. Maybe my pride is dented, but not my heart. It wasn’t a good relationship, I know that now. And I know you knew it, but…” She smiled and shrugged.

  Eleanor returned her smile. “We all have to make our own mistakes, sweetie. So what’s with you and Clancy?”

  Amanda’s eyes widened, but Eleanor’s expression was one of her specialties and Amanda knew without her having to say so that it meant, “Don’t even think of pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Amanda played with the shawl some more. I don’t know what’s with me and Clancy, she said to herself, but couldn’t say it aloud.

  “You seem to get on so well in a weird way,” Eleanor eventually said. “But then you don’t. And she’s such a gorgeous woman. I don’t understand you. Are you attracted to her?”

  Amanda wriggled helplessly, feeling like a butterfly stuck through with a pin. She ran her fingers through her hair and swept it back from her face, took a deep breath and opened her mouth, unsure what was about to come out of it.

  “If I’m honest, and that’s hard, I’ve been attracted to her from the moment I first saw her.” Impulsively she uncurled herself from the end of the bed and began pacing the room. “She also drives me nuts, she’s so…I don’t know, she’s so…”

  “Like a slightly older, much wiser version of you,” said Eleanor softly. “It’s why you clash and why you’re drawn to each other—in my opinion.”

  Amanda stopped her pacing and peered at her mother. “Really? You think so? God, that sounds pretty disastrous. And what do you mean ‘much wiser’?”

  Eleanor chortled. “I knew you’d pick up on that. She is, honey, but you’re getting there fast. And you and she really sparkle together, you know that?”

  “We do?” Eleanor’s eyebrows rose at the foolish hopefulness of the question. “Okay, we do. But she makes me feel like a mosquito—she keeps swatting at me like I’m a pest.”

  “So when you get too close she pushes you away, is what you’re saying.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s it,” Amanda said and sat back down on the end of the bed. “And I have a confession, Mom.” She dropped her face in her hands, and then peered up at Eleanor from between her fingers.

  Eleanor groaned and smiled. “Oh no, now what have you done?”

  Amanda sat up straight and squared her shoulders, hesitated and then caught the look in Eleanor’s eye. “Okay, but I have to tell you I am really embarrassed about this. Like really, really embarrassed and I think it might go in the too-much-information-for-a-mother basket.”

  “So should I stick my fingers in my ears and go la la la la?”

  Amanda giggled. “No, but you should probably cover your eyes.” And she unwound the scarf from around her neck and took a deep breath as she turned so that her mother could see the bruise. She knew from her bathroom mirror that it was well on its way to yellow and purple, but it was also a long way from fading.

  “Oh lord, Amanda, that’s gross.” Eleanor’s voice was softly neutral; Amanda knew that meant she didn’t approve one little bit.

  “I told you I’m embarrassed,” she said, trying to keep defiance out of her tone. “Actually, I’m ashamed too.”

  “I’m not surprised, frankly,” Eleanor said and this time her voice was acid. “I’m glad to hear it, too. Really honey, what have you been up to? Does Clancy know about this?”

  “She does.” Amanda closed her eyes, recalling Clancy’s reaction. “She was pretty good about it, actually. She sort of took the blame for introducing me to…” she sniggered, “the perp.”

  “Amanda McIntyre, last time I checked you were thirty-two years old. Unless you’re saying you were the poor little helpless victim, there was no perp!”

  Amanda held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, Mom, bad joke. I brought it on myself and I am truly sorry I did.”

  The silence was broken only by Thomas Cat’s contented purr. Finally Eleanor sighed. “I suppose we should look on the bright side. If Clancy is still talking to you after that,” she waved a finger in the general direction of Amanda’s neck, “then I guess there’s hope for you yet.”

  Amanda giggled. “Mom!” she exclaimed. “It’s not like that between us.” Her shoulders slumped. “There’s a spark, for sure, but Clancy isn’t looking to get involved with anyone any time soon.”

  “Doesn’t look like that to me,” said Eleanor, and her tone was resolute.

  “No re
ally, Malcolm thinks she’s still carrying a torch for a woman who was killed in an accident years ago. She was only nineteen then and he reckons she’s never got over it.”

  “Nonsense,” Eleanor said, so firmly that Thomas Cat jumped in her arms and put out a paw to her chin in protest. “I don’t believe that romantic rubbish. Absence does not make the heart grow fonder; it makes it forget. That’s how we survive and get on with living. If there’s been no one in her life it’s because she hasn’t met the right one. Yet.”

  Amanda opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her mother was good at rendering her speechless on occasion, always had been. She unwrapped herself from the shawl and stood up. “I guess it’s bedtime, Mom,” she said softly. “Thank you for not putting me over your knee, I know I deserve it.” She leaned over and placed a kiss on her mother’s forehead.

  “Good night, honey.” Eleanor reached up and patted her cheek. “Get a good night’s sleep and let’s see what tomorrow brings. My bet is this particular cloud will turn out to have a silver lining.”

  Amanda hugged her, trying to convey how much she loved her mother in ways that words could not. “I’ve heard that before, Mom, and I’m looking at dark clouds quite differently these days.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After ten days of weather that couldn’t make up its mind whether to be benign or unfriendly, Christmas Day dawned hot and perfectly, cloudlessly blue. Eleanor was enchanted at the idea of being on the beach in mid-December and was like a child on the sand, examining the unfamiliar shells and collecting bits of driftwood that caught her fancy. And while Clancy and Amanda swam hard out to their unmarked turning point and back to the beach, she watched them while leaping happily in the cove’s sweet-tempered breakers.

  “Who’s ready for breakfast?” Three hands shot up and Clancy laughed. “What a surprise. I thought we could eat in the boatshed or on the dock, it’s too hot to sit out.” She led the way up the beach and unlocked the double doors.