Crossing the road, she pushed through the café’s unlocked front door. Light spilled through huge windows at the front and side. Small clear leadlight windows ran atop the large windows and the cut-glass doors. Front window-seats could double as deep shelves. The glass wasn’t masked with paper while they renovated, a strategy to tweak interest. It felt a bit like working in a fish tank.
The minor refurbishment was progressing swiftly, but Skye thought the bones of the space were already perfect. The ceilings were high, and a drop cloth protected wooden floorboards. The first thing Rowena had commanded was for the old vinyl to be ripped up and replaced. But once the loose vinyl was removed, on seeing the boards, she’d simply opted for a scrubbing with hot soapy water instead. After a good cleaning, the pale boards didn’t even need sanding.
There were tentative plans for Skye to stencil rockpool inhabitants here and there on it once the counters were in place. She had already hand-stencilled black T-shirts with a quirky white ‘Find Your Bliss’ slogan, and mocked up a flyer for the café opening, copies of which were taped to the glass.
The walls were odd-shaped, fitting around the corner at the bottom of the hill, adding to its charm. Skye loved it. She had a good feeling about this. For more than one reason: her days of hang-out time with Morgan were numbered, days that had the noticeable flavour of supervision. Morgan seemed to be keeping her away from the beach.
The excuse of the café revamp only went so far in accounting for the complete switch from thinking the beach was the logical destination, to never mentioning it. But it was never far from Skye’s thoughts, for reasons beyond the constant pull in her towards the sea.
Hunter was like an obsession, her brain spinning endlessly about him. He was practically a stranger, and she felt sure he’d left Bascath Bay. Why couldn’t she let him go? So much for her inviolable laws. It was like he was in her bloodstream. Not that she would let herself act on her feelings beyond hoping to see his face again. She knew better. He was like a riptide, liable to carry her out of her depth.
Morgan, her long hair twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck, was balancing on a ladder, paint tray in one hand, rolling out the palest shade of bird’s egg blue on the wall. She hadn’t heard Skye come in but she turned now. “Skye-bear! You made it – at last!”
“Yep, shocked I even made it now to be honest. I could totally use a decent lie in.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes, muttering about the feebleness of the younger generation. Skye laughed.
“Oh, hey, Skye – this is the other blue you suggested. What do you think actually on the wall? Too pale?”
Skye considered the shade Morgan had just rolled out. “It’ll dry a little darker. I think it’s going to be right – it makes me think of the early morning sky over the sea.” She glanced around. “Where’s Rowena?”
Morgan frowned, “Called in to the restaurant. Don’t know how it’s going to work, two places on the go. But – dammit!” Morgan looked at a fresh smear of paint on her already paint-covered arm. “You shouldn’t make me talk and paint, Skye. I can’t multi-task like apparently every other female on the planet. Hand me that rag?”
“It’ll work,” Skye said, dropping her bag on the floor by the door. Morgan could multi-task fine, Skye knew. She guessed it was excitement that was responsible for the many spills down her overalls. Good thing they’d put drop sheets down, she thought, holding out the rag. “You and Rowena will make it happen.”
Morgan balanced her tray and roller on the top of the ladder and climbed down to take the proffered rag. “I hope so,” she said fervently. “It’s got to.”
Skye felt guilty. She should be focusing on what this meant for them instead of obsessing about someone she barely knew. Picking up a roll of masking tape, she began to mask up the edge of the window glass, eventually swapping from tape to paint pot. She swirled the brush vigorously in the paint, trying to focus on fresh white trim instead of charcoal eyes. A sharp tap sounded practically in her ear and she jerked, dropping the brush and spattering her legs with glossy white paint. She sighed; wearing shorts had been a dumb idea.
“Hey!” Morgan called enthusiastically. Skye looked up from the mess to see Ethan heading for the café door. “Skye, it’s Ethan,” Morgan announced redundantly, crossing to meet him at the door. Skye retrieved the messy brush, annoyed at being so jumpy. She scrubbed at her legs with a rag.
“Hey Morgan, Skye. What, are you guys decorators now?”
“Nope! You’re looking at the owners of the newest, hottest café in Bannimor!” Morgan crowed.
Ethan looked impressed. “Is that a fact? Wow, you two in business together!” He turned to Skye with a speculative gaze. “So, you’re moving back?”
Morgan laughed. “No, it’s Mum and Skye’s uncle, they’re the official partners. But that includes me of course, and Skye by default of blood and friendship. I am so ready for this,” she gestured around enthusiastically. “You wait, it’ll be better than Jump.” Morgan fixed her roller to an extension pole. “Don’t mind if I keep going, we’re on a deadline. Mum is way too impatient for realistic timeframes.”
“Sure, no problem. How about I help?” Ethan picked up a spare roller tray. Skye got busy with her paintbrush again.
“So, Morgan, you’re not finishing the school year?” Ethan asked.
Morgan climbed back to her perch on the ladder. “Nope, no more school for this girl. I know what I want, and school’s not in it I’m afraid.”
Ethan frowned a little, staring at Morgan. “Are you sure? I mean, what’s half a year?
Morgan shrugged. “I want to get a couple of years experience under my belt, and then I’ll look at doing that food Diploma in the city.” She began to roll the wall just below the ceiling. “That was always the plan.”
“Well, you’ll be missed at school.”
Morgan didn’t turn, but Skye saw faint pink tinge the back of her neck.
“Does that mean we won’t see you for the rest of the summer?” Ethan glanced at Skye as he spoke. “You’ll be all work and no play.”
“Pretty much,” Morgan replied. “I’m practically going to be a slave. We’re going to work Skye to death too, although she doesn’t know it yet. Hey, maybe we should do something together, the whole crowd, before we’re locked in Dungeon Bliss?”
“For sure!” Ethan agreed. “And also, you know…it would be good to give a proper Bannimor welcome to Skye.” He looked at Skye with a little shrug, maybe recalling the restaurant conversation he knew she’d overheard. “How’s tonight? We could meet by the usual rocks at Bascath Beach later.”
“Tonight? I’m so there,” Morgan agreed, “we both are.” Skye looked at her, surprised. She was pretty sure she hadn’t been mistaken about Morgan avoiding the beach.
“We can make it a proper beach party,” Ethan planned. “It’ll be huge.”
“Sounds good, right, Skye?” Morgan asked.
“Sure,” Skye shrugged. She was glad that they couldn’t hear her heartbeat accelerate. She bent over her work to hide her smile.
Late that afternoon, Skye shifted impatiently as Morgan rummaged through her wardrobe, insistent on dressing her up for the beach party. There was only one reason Skye had for wanting to be there tonight. And she was almost certain that reason had left Bannimor two weeks ago. It bothered her that she cared.
“Fantastic getting all that painting done,” Morgan enthused from half inside the wardrobe. “Ethan’s saved us at least a day, maybe two. The boy’s a machine.”
“Machine, eh? Tell me why you two never hooked up?” Skye teased.
“...We almost did, actually.”
“Morgan! When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Morgan laughed at Skye’s jaw-dropped expression. “It was nothing. I’d kind of met this other guy. Just wrong timing I guess. And it’s all in the past.”
“You met someone else? Who? Why don’t I know about any of this?”
Morgan hesitated. When she spoke
, her easy tone sounded forced. “It was nothing, didn’t work out. Totally embarrassing actually. I’d rather forget it.”
“But Mags, we tell each other everything.” She tried to keep the hurt at being left out of something this important out of her voice.
“I thought so too. We used to, right?” Morgan turned and looked at her, her expression unreadable, then she turned back to the wardrobe. “You’re so lucky, Skye,” she mused, changing the subject, flicking through her wardrobe hangers. “You’ve got one of those slim builds that looks great in anything.”
Skye genuinely didn’t mind the differences between her and Morgan, but she knew there was no comparison. And that was all good as far as she was concerned. If statuesque Morgan was next to her with her striking figure, slight Skye could be safely sure of avoiding unwanted attention. She tried to keep up the banter. “I know how to put on jeans. Isn’t that fine for the beach?” she challenged.
“Trust me,” Morgan insisted. She held out a hot fuchsia and scarlet wrap-around sundress. “Try this one on.”
Skye slipped off her shorts and T-shirt and pulled the dress on. Morgan knotted the tie of the dress, and dragged Skye to the mirror. A bright butterfly gazed out from the glass at her, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. The outfit shouted for attention, but it was the pink cheeks and glowing eyes that made Skye tense as she recognised something in them: hope.
She knew it was about Hunter. She couldn’t let herself feel this way, because it could lead to feeling even more. To feeling too much. Hunter had told her to keep away. Had made himself so completely scarce it was hard to believe he even existed. So no way. She wouldn’t be that girl.
Then why was her heart beating faster in anticipation when she pictured his silver-grey eyes? She turned crossly away from her reflection and focused on Morgan.
Morgan had chosen a black and green wrap-around sheath-like skirt for herself with a matching halter that brought out the green of her eyes and accentuated her tan. “Swimsuits on first – no arguments, Skye. Then dresses over top. It’ll be great. Let’s do this,” she winked.
“Yep, let’s do this,” Skye echoed, despising the flutter in her stomach.
15. Distractions
Morgan and Skye reached the top of the stone steps to the beach when Morgan’s cell-phone sounded from her bag. Fishing it out, she checked the caller ID and flipped it open with a frown. “Mum? Uh-huh…yep… Just got here.”
There was a pause as she visibly deflated. Phone to her ear, she eyed Skye as if deliberating. Then she sighed, nodding, and said “Yeah, I guess she could go ahead. How long do you think it’ll take? Yes, okay…okay…yep. No, that’s okay, see you soon. Bye.”
She snapped the phone closed and looked determinedly at Skye. Skye raised her eyebrows, although she guessed what was coming.
“That was Mum – obviously. Not the restaurant – the café this time. Apparently, the freezer didn’t arrive when it was supposed to.” Morgan sighed in exasperation. “The delivery guys should be there in the next hour or so, they couldn’t be more specific, so unhelpful. Meanwhile Mum’s at the restaurant trying to wangle freezer space for the frozen goods which did arrive. I don’t have to wait while she picks it all up again, just for the freezer delivery.”
Skye’s heart sank. She didn’t care about missing the party, but it had meant the possibility of seeing Hunter. A remote one, if her instincts were correct. Not that it mattered, she told herself forcefully.
But Morgan hadn’t finished. “Mum says you should go ahead, in case the delivery is held up or something.”
That didn’t make sense to Skye at all. These were Morgan’s friends. “Why don’t you stay, and I’ll wait at Bliss,” she offered. “Or let’s wait together?”
Morgan looked tempted, but only hesitated a moment “No, it totally doesn’t require both of us. This’ll be great for you. Remember, ‘welcome to Bannimor’?”
“I’d rather wait with you, Mags. Truly. This’ll suck without you.”
But any hesitation Morgan might have had was over. “We can’t both bail on Ethan,” she insisted. “You can represent us both until I get back, yeah? I’ll try not to be long. Stay safe okay?” She gave Skye a quick hug and strode off in the direction of the café.
Reluctantly descending to the beach, Skye squinted against the low sun, wishing she’d thought to bring sunglasses. They’d also be good for hiding behind. She headed towards the rocks as arranged, nervous at the thought of mixing with Morgan’s friends alone. She spotted Ethan’s golden cropped head, but her relief at knowing at least one person was short-lived.
Draped on Ethan’s shoulder, hair gleaming in the golden light, was Amber. And next to her, Jasmine. No one else seemed to have arrived yet. Was it too late to join Morgan, she wondered? Rigid with discomfort, she turned to leave. But after a few steps she stopped. She had as much right to be here as anyone. Taking a deep breath, she resolutely turned to face them again.
Nearing the trio, Skye had the distinct sense of retreading old ground, and not in a good way.
“Hey, Skye.” Ethan looked pleased and awkward at the same time. He shifted slightly away from Amber and her arm slipped off him.
“All set to swim, Skye?” Amber raised innocent eyebrows. Jasmine smirked
“Want me to, Amber?” Skye said evenly, “Not afraid I might jinx you?” She coolly met Amber’s glare and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes drop and her cheeks redden. Smiling sweetly Skye dropped her bag onto the sand, kicked her sandals off and sat, ignoring Ethan’s amusement.
“Where’s Morgan?” he asked.
“She’ll be here in a bit,” Skye said. “Sorry, I’m it for now.”
“No complaints here,” Ethan said. Skye caught Amber’s narrowed eyes. Great, she thought, way to diffuse the tension, Ethan.
Voices announced new arrivals, and Jasmine and Amber scrambled up to meet the dozen or so people crossing the sand to join them. After a moment’s hesitation, Ethan followed them.
“Skye! Why don’t you join us?” Amber said archly as she sauntered towards the water minutes later with a few girls Skye didn’t know. “The water’s perfect.” Amber didn’t wait for an answer, or pause at the water’s edge, running easily in, jumping and lunging through the waves with the others. Despite the taunt, Skye’s heart leapt with them for an instant at remembered pleasure.
See Skye, the water’s not so bad. It hadn’t been...with him. She slowly stood, un-knotted her dress and dropped it on her bag, and walked down to the water’s edge. Hesitating, she imagined plunging into the waves. Her chest grew tight as if struggling for air and her limbs began to tremble, aching as if exhausted from swimming. She turned away and sat back down, wrapping her arms around drawn-up knees.
A game that was a mix of football, volleyball and beach ball with about five different balls began, across the sand and into the water, Ethan in the heart of it. Over the next hour their group grew while other beach goers drifted away. The sun sank lower, the late afternoon rays golden.
“So, I see swimsuit, Skye – very cute. Also, very dry, as in not been in?” Ethan dropped to a crouch beside her, puffing from the game. His smile seemed natural but Skye thought his eyes looked careful.
She pasted on a smile but found it difficult to keep it in place. After a few seconds she gave up trying. “Ah well, you know. Pacing myself maybe. Or leaving room for all your friends to swim. Take your pick really.” Did she sound defensive? She bit her lip.
He sat, mirroring her posture. “Just teasing, Skye.” They were silent for a moment, both knowing that was only partly true. He looked straight ahead. “We just want you to be happy. You know – fresh start, or holiday from the past, sort of thing.”
She couldn’t think of an answer. Had he been talking her over with Morgan? He jumped up to retrieve a beach ball, and ran with it into the water, joining the others.
Skye tried to relax, forcing her hunched shoulders down. Ethan leapt high in the crowded waves, drawing her at
tention. He was attractive, light-hearted, and thoughtful. And a bit of a player. Maybe Morgan was right? Was he the perfect guy to break her obsession with the elusive Hunter?
The shouts of the game blended with the rush of the waves, and despite her efforts to focus on the cute guy in front of her, her gaze wandered across the Bay to where Ciarlan Cove waited, out of sight. Maybe Hunter waited too?
She recalled his husky voice, telling her to keep away. His intense gaze had been conflicted. Skye could relate. Her once unshakeable determination to avoid the kinds of feelings he sent trembling through her was dissolving. She dug her toes into the fine sand, trying to stop her thoughts flowing helplessly in Hunter’s slipstream.
Gradually a feeling of unease nudged at her. She looked around and saw that numbers had grown with the arrival of a large group of slightly older guys. A bus was parked in the distance on Marine Parade.
The volume and energy of the ball game had increased exponentially, but not all the newcomers were playing ball. Some were playing spectator. Skye noted harder expressions and eyes that lingered on the bikinied bodies of Morgan’s friends. She wasn’t going to be swimming, and she had zero intention of sitting around to be leered at. Time to put her dress back on. She stood up, dusting the sand off her hands.
“Joining us?”
She jumped. Two of the newcomers had approached unheard and stood near her, eyes appraising. Their smiles were friendly, in attractive faces, but she felt uncomfortable. She shook her head and picked up her fuchsia dress. Shaking it out, she slipped her arms awkwardly through the arm holes.
“Oh, come on babe, we were enjoying the view.”
Skye’s face burned. She pulled the dress tight and knotted the sash, an expletive-laden suggestion for them on the tip of her tongue.
“Just ignore him,” the second guy said apologetically. “Take him anywhere twice, second time to apologise.” His smile seemed genuine, and the first guy looked sheepish and echoed, “Yeah, sorry.”
Skye gave a small shrug by way of accepting their apology as Ethan jogged up, a beach ball under each arm. Nearing them, he tossed a ball to the guys. One of them caught it, and the two jogged away to join the game.
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