by Helen Goltz
“I like the rocks,” she said.
I stored that fact away.
“Me too, I love to climb amongst them,” Sebastian said. “Be careful though, the tide can come in quickly and sweep you off. Your mother would be very pleased I remembered to give you that warning.” He looked satisfied with himself.
“Have people died from being washed off the rocks?” Ophelia asked.
“Oh yes, many,” he said, and gazed out to sea. He said nothing for close to a minute, the longest time he had stopped talking yet. And then he continued. “But the little rock pools can be delightful. In summer you can sit in some of the little wading pools and cool off. Now let me show you around,” he said and grabbing her red suitcase from the car, headed inside with Ophelia and the dogs in pursuit.
I stayed behind as Sebastian began to show Ophelia her new home, her new life. I would have to teach her to love the sea—no easy task. First though, I had to choose the best time to meet her so my life could begin.
OPHELIA
“I hope you like your level,” Uncle Seb said.
“My level?” I thought I had misheard him.
“Oh yes, unless you get lonely, but I assumed being a young woman you would want your own space and to have a friend or friends around eventually or to play a bit of music or just do whatever young people do these days ... twittering, internet, Facebook. Agnes likes to have her own places too that are off limits to the boys, don’t you Aggie?” he stroked the white Great Dane with the brown ears and speckles. She nodded in agreement. “She may share with you as you are both girls. You travel light for a female.”
I looked at my red case. “I guess. I just ... I couldn’t decide whether to bring a lot of memories or move on.”
Sebastian nodded his understanding. “Adam was living upstairs but when we heard you were coming, he moved downstairs and took the other side of the house.”
“Oh, sorry, is he cranky?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Uncle Seb assured me. “He’s not here much, besides he didn’t want girl germs,” he said with a wink. “Right then,” he led the way to the front door, which wasn’t locked, but required a good shove to open.
“The salt air,” he explained. “Some days the windows and doors open easily, other days they don’t. Don’t take it personally; I know the house is happy to have another woman present.”
I laughed at the notion, and then began to wonder ... Dad always said Uncle Seb was eccentric, downright weird really. I followed him inside, Argo and Agnes trailed behind and the door closed itself. Must be a breeze somewhere.
I couldn’t believe the size of Uncle Seb’s house as I wandered through; it was enormous and sparse. It was weird but it did feel like a person—a female—and I felt kind of protected inside her. In the entrance way prisms of light danced around the floor from stained glass porthole windows in the ceiling.
“I love this,” I told Uncle Seb and turned in circles following the lights.
The two dogs followed me around as I twirled and Uncle Seb grinned at the site of the three of us in a circle dance.
“Come, we’ll have a tour,” he said, and removed his coat, taking mine as well and hanging them on a coat rack near the door.
In front of the entrance hallway where we stood, a huge timber staircase ran up the middle of the room. Uncle Seb moved to it and placed my red suitcase on the bottom step.
To the left was a large living room with endless ocean views and a kitchen behind it. The living room featured a large iron fireplace in the corner with an equally large rug and two couches, one on each side. His and her couches—Uncle Seb and I might never see each other.
“The living area,” he pointed to the area left of where we stood, then continued through the living room to the open plan kitchen which looked a bit like the galley on a ship—completely white or faded white now, bits and pieces hung from the ceiling, the benches were bare and not a bowl, a piece of fruit or a plate to be seen.
“Kitchen,” he announced.
Sebastian strode back out of the kitchen, through the living room and then crossed the hallway to the room at the front of the house on the right.
“My office,” he announced.
“Oh my.” I stopped dead in the doorway. It too had doors opening onto the front timber deck and a stunning ocean view. It seemed every room and window did. Two long tables took pride of place in the centre of the room and a wide shelf ran around the room at desk height. On every spare surface, a model ship stood—old ships, modern ships, large and small ships, ships with sails, with steam engines and bits and pieces of model ships. The walls were adorned with drawings and paintings of ships and a bench stood near the window where a ship was currently being built.
“Ah yes, it’s my passion. Some might say obsession, but I love the history. They are all accurate models you know. One day if you are interested, I’ll introduce you to them all,” Uncle Seb said.
It made sense that Uncle Seb positioned his office here rather than have his bedroom at the front; he worked from home most of the time and his work was all about ships.
“Right, now for our bedrooms,” he said and showing incredible restraint he turned away from his office and moved out into the hallway again. I had to take two steps for every one of his. I caught up and followed as Uncle Seb walked under the staircase towards the back of the house, pushing open a door on the left and a door on the right as he walked. I glanced in each room; they were enormous and had huge windows that looked further up the coast with endless water views from both sides of the house. In each room, a king size bed featured along with a couch and still there was room to move.
“Adam has the left of the house and I am right, but not all the time,” he laughed at his own joke.
The bedroom on the left was a mess. I grinned and looked to the right, it was orderly.
“Mm,” I said. “Makes sense.”
Uncle Seb laughed. Both Adam and Uncle Seb’s rooms had doors that opened onto the back deck. Under the stairs was a specially designed dog bedroom, open but cosy.
“This is Agnes and Argo’s room. They have their own doggy door,” Uncle Seb said.
I looked at the doggy door in the back door frame; it was huge—I could fit through it with only slightly ducking my head.
Uncle Seb looked sheepish. “I guess it is more of a people door and wouldn’t stop anyone breaking in, but we don’t have much here worth breaking in to steal,” he shrugged.
“I think someone would be very brave to break into a house with two huge guard dogs,” I said and stepped away from Argo and Agnes’s room. “Well Argo and Agnes,” I addressed the dogs, “I must say you are neater than Adam and Uncle Seb.”
The two dogs appreciated my comment and Uncle Seb nodded his head in agreement. Each dog had a large dog bed suspended about one foot off the ground by sea ropes and a view from the hallway to the deck and park area behind.
“They’ll move beside the fire in the living room in winter of course and sleep on the rug.”
“Of course,” I agreed thinking of the homeless back in my city who would love to share Argo and Agnes’s bed.
Uncle Seb took off again towards the front of the house. I chased after him.
“I have no secrets, so you are welcome on my side of course, if you can find anything to interest you there,” he joked. “Adam might be more territorial. Now for your level.”
He returned to the staircase, grabbed my suitcase and headed up to the next level. Argo, Agnes and I followed him upwards. I grabbed the timber rail, turned at the top of the stairs on arrival and looked back down. It was a large home but it felt cosy. I turned to find Uncle Seb smiling, waiting for me.
“Uncle Seb, I don’t need a whole level really. I’m sorry,” I said. He looked surprised.
“What for?”
“I feel like I’ve displaced you both. You have your life and now you have me ... this obligation,” my eyes began to fill even though I tried not to cry and I blinked the
m clear as quickly as I could.
“Never an obligation, Lia, never. It’s my pleasure to have you,” he stumbled with words, “a pleasure and a privilege to have you here.” I don’t think Uncle Seb has had to express his emotions very often and his sincerity brought my tears closer to the surface. I breathed in deep to get control, smiled my thanks and he hurriedly continued the tour. The upstairs area was equally enormous with high ceilings and included a narrow staircase that lead to an attic. The house was clearly divided on each side of the staircase.
I stopped dead in my tracks and gasped. The entire front wall featured the two large glass panoramic windows that had looked like eyes from afar and through these you could see the ocean until it fell away off the edge of the earth. Uncle Seb stopped beside me and put down the suitcase. He looked out at the ocean.
“I forget sometimes how beautiful it is,” he said. “I have to remember to look up and admire it.” He sighed and turned away. “Now, the right side is empty ... guest rooms, spare rooms, whatever we like,” he swung doors open. “A bedroom ... and ...” he walked down the hall beside the stair case, “bathroom ... and ... a storage area. I’m a bit of a hoarder.”
I followed. “Wow,” all the rooms had the most amazing views.
“But you, Lia, you own the left hand side and the whole floor really.” He returned, collected my case from where he left it and pushed it into a bedroom. “Here’s your room, your bathroom and a spare room that you can use as you see fit, maybe a guest room for a friend from your old school or a new friend or a study room for school? All the furniture is new—Mrs. Duxom went shopping and ordered it all. She chose white, everything white, even the quilt. She said you could add colour then, any colour you like. She did sneak a little pink in, but if you don’t like it or want to change it ...”
Checking out the left side—my side—I wandered from the bedroom to the spare room to the bathroom and back to the bedroom with my mouth open. It was wonderful—big high ceilings, antique chandeliers with glass and pink crystal drops, the whitest of walls, timber floors and pale cream rugs, a welcoming plush quilt and plump white and pink pillows—it felt so plush like I had entered a room out of Vogue Living magazine.
I turned to Uncle Seb. “Thank you, I love it. You’ve gone to so much trouble.”
“Never too much trouble for my only niece,” he said and I could tell he was happy with my reaction. He looked away and back at me again with delight.
I wandered through the rooms again as he watched, swaying on his heels, his hands in his pockets. The bathroom had a huge cast iron bath all new and polished and the view from the window was unbelievable. I could watch ships on the horizon while I’m bathing. I went back to the spare room with the desk and double bed and back to my own bedroom with a four-poster double bed and the white netting all around it.
“It is beautiful, dreamy, thank you,” I circled the bed and ran my hand along the white netting.
Sebastian nodded and reddened with pleasure. Argo and Agnes sat on either side of the door looking like ancient protectors of the room.
“More to see,” he said leading the way outside the room to the small stairs that led up to the attic.
“And that,” he looked skyward, “is our viewing room. Most mornings we all go up—that is me, Argo and Agnes—and I take a coffee and sit to look at the ocean. Plus if we sight a ship at any time of the day we all meet there,” he said including the dogs in his glance. “It is rather lovely. Come see.”
The way Uncle Seb spoke I could see the dogs and the house were his family. The dogs raced ahead up the attic stairs and I followed them and Uncle Seb. Two large chairs sat in front of the windows and looked straight out to the ocean. With the height there was no sense of being on land, it was as though the attic floated in the ocean. The dogs wandered along the large windows.
I’m sure my jaw dropped open and Uncle Seb grinned with pleasure as he showed off his prize old home.
“She’s something alright,” he nodded. “Well, that’s the house,” he began the descent down to the bedroom level again with the dogs following behind. He stopped before descending to the lower level and turned to face me.
“Now, Mrs. Duck—her name is actually Mrs. Duxom but we call her Mrs. Duck, don’t know why, it just stuck—anyway Mrs. Duck comes every weekday after twelve to clean, wash and cook dinner, she’s been with me for over a decade now. On the weekends, we fend for ourselves! You’ll meet her soon enough. I will go put the kettle on for tea. Take your time, Lia.”
I thanked Uncle Seb and watched him take the stairs at a gallop down to the lower level, Argo beat him down, Agnes stayed with me.
My room was beautiful, dreamy even—but I felt bad for liking it, as though I was being traitorous to Mum and Dad. I moved to the window and looked out over the ocean. An incredible feeling of loneliness swept over me and I grabbed my chest; I don’t know why, I knew that wouldn’t help. As if reading my emotions, Agnes moved closer to me and I stroked her head.
The sun would soon set across the ocean; the shadows were already long across the rocks. Then I saw movement at the base of the rock ... a person, a man with fair hair? I turned back but there was no one there.
JACK
She saw me, just a hint of me but I was gone before she looked back ... it is safer that way for a while, well, until we’re officially introduced. I can’t believe she’s here at last; I feel like I have waited forever for this moment in time. So I can wait and do it properly ... let her discover me.
Not everyone is happy she’s here, there are petty jealousies rising ... a fear that she will replace all others, receive all my affection, and take up all the room I have in my heart. They have grounds to be worried.
OPHELIA
I woke with a fright, I could hear yelling, and just for a few seconds I didn’t know where I was. It was Uncle Seb yelling. I can’t believe I slept, morning caught me by surprise—I haven’t slept so heavily ... well, since Mum and Dad died.
Uncle Seb was pounding up the stairs. I threw off the covers, shoved my feet into my Ugg slippers, chucked my dressing gown around me and ran towards the door. Uncle Seb nearly collected me as they ran past. He thudded up the stairs with Argo and Agnes in pursuit. Somehow Uncle Seb was charging along while balancing two cups of tea!
“Morning, Lia, there’s a ship, come on,” he called as he headed up the attic stairs; the dogs took them in two bounds.
Ship! All this racket for a ship, really? I glanced to the large, solid brass ship clock in the hallway. 5.35am, good grief. Uncle Seb called out again. I sighed and went to the attic stairs and climbed up finding all three of them looking out the large windows.
“Morning, here you are,” Uncle Seb handed over a hot mug of tea as I sunk into the seat next to him. He wore a loose grey T-shirt and track pants; his hair was bed hair at its best. I reached down and gave Argo and Agnes a morning pat each as they lowered themselves at our feet, facing the ocean.
Ahead, through the floor-to-ceiling windows was the most amazing view ever—a full panorama of the ocean and centre place, crossing the front was a large ship.
“Oh wow, it looks like it is in our front garden,” I blinked to wake up properly and gazed at it through the steam of my hot tea. “I didn’t think it would be that amazing.”
Uncle Seb grinned. “Worth getting up for after all?” he ribbed me.
I shrugged and smiled. “Yeah maybe.”
“It is something isn’t it? We never tire of watching them,” he said including the dogs who also looked out to sea.
“Where’s Adam?” I asked.
“He’s out having a run. He does most mornings.”
I nodded, pleased that the first time I met him I wouldn’t have bed hair. Adam didn’t come home for dinner last night, for my first night, but I heard a car arriving and the door opening just after ten or so. The house had moaned as well, a welcome home moan I suppose. I wasn’t in a hurry to meet more people.
We watched the
ship moving slowly across the horizon.
“I don’t get how they float ... I mean I know the science of how they float,” I added quickly before Uncle Seb started his lecture on the ship’s buoyancy properties. “I mean, I’m blown away by how they float.”
He nodded. “We’ll make a sea lover of you yet, Lia, you wait and see, won’t we kids?”
Argo barked on cue, a deep bark that came from his big chest.
I leaned over and stroked his beautiful head.
“You should go down and walk around the shores, visit the maritime museum, you could even go on a tour to look at the wrecks,” Uncle Seb suggested.
I shuddered. “Creepy.”
“You think?” he asked. “I love them. So do the divers—the ships are a great reminder of our history.”
“But didn’t lots of sailors die? Awful to think that we enjoy the sights which once would have been the cause of a lot of grief,” I said.
“I guess,” Uncle Seb said, “but you could say that about a lot of history and sights. Besides not every ship had a full crew that perished. Like Agnes’ ship ...”
Agnes’ ears twitched on hearing her name.
“...it was a crop ship.” Uncle Seb pointed straight ahead.
“And just there, the Essington, sank in 1852, she was carrying a cargo of coal.”
“Why did it crash?” I asked.
“She began to take water and then ran ashore. Believe it or not, you can still get little bits of coal washed ashore after rough weather. Now that’s creepy if you think about it,” Uncle Seb said. “And there,” he pointed to the left, “is where the Thistle went down. She was blown ashore on Christmas Day in 1837 and was carrying wattlebark, you know, stripped from trees?”
I shook my head, wattlebark was new to me, but I guess a lot of Uncle Seb’s world was new to me. My day used to exist of getting up, checking my Facebook page, going to school, going to sport after school sometimes, homework and hanging with my parents and friends. This shipping world was totally foreign and this house was something else. Just as that thought cross my mind, she softly moaned and rocked just a little with the shore breeze.