The Banksia Bay Beach Shack

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The Banksia Bay Beach Shack Page 15

by Sandie Docker


  Gigi slowed right down. No one had seen her yet. She could back away, turn and run, and pretend she was never there in the first place. She could make up some excuse about Mum needing her at the caravan park.

  She halted. Took one step back.

  Then Lily saw her.

  ‘Gigi!’ she called out, and waved her white-gloved hand. ‘Come. Come.’

  Gigi cursed under her breath, but held her composure as she walked towards the picnic.

  Richard turned around, looking her up and down. ‘Nice to see you again, Gigi. You’re looking well.’

  She pushed her wayward hair, which she’d forgotten to brush, behind her ears. Lily was resplendent, as always, and Richard and Todd were in tailored trousers and button-up shirts. Gigi was in her work overalls.

  ‘I thought a picnic might be nice.’ Lily offered Gigi some homemade lemonade. ‘Richard and Todd can get to know each other. It will be nice for Richard to have a man to talk to and not just us ladies.’

  Gigi saw right through the scene in front of her, despite her naïvety. This was a double date. Todd stood up and offered her his hand to help her down onto the rug.

  ‘Isn’t this lovely?’ Lily smiled.

  ‘Lovely’ was not exactly the word Gigi would have chosen.

  Todd and Richard seemed to get on quite well, and Gigi sat back, saying very little, while Lily played hostess, serving the guys sandwiches and lemonade and scones to finish with. It was all terribly polite and Gigi hated every minute of it.

  Lily packed up the picnic basket she’d brought with her and invited Gigi for a stroll down to the water.

  ‘Well, that’s gone very well.’ She sounded rather pleased with herself.

  ‘How is this punishment for Todd scaring us half to death yesterday?’ Gigi stopped walking and spun around in the sand.

  ‘It’s not. Not really. I wanted to have a picnic with Richard, and Mother would only let me if it was with a group, now that we’re officially courting. She has this archaic notion that because we are no longer just friends, and he’s made it clear he is serious about pursuing me, we cannot be alone together.’

  ‘That doesn’t explain why you had to invite Todd. Don’t I count?’

  Lily linked her arm with Gigi’s and dragged her further down the beach. ‘More than you know. To me. But Mother . . .’

  ‘Your mother doesn’t trust me.’ Gigi sighed. All these years of friendship and Mrs Woodhouse still couldn’t accept Gigi.

  ‘Well, it isn’t that. If she didn’t trust you, we wouldn’t be allowed to see each other at all. It’s just that Daddy knows Todd’s father quite well and that means having you both here is extra . . . insurance. So to speak.’

  So to speak. Gigi may not be destined for a posh life like Lily, but she understood how things worked. Alone with Lily she was a mere distraction for the Woodhouses’ only daughter. A passing summer friendship that kept their little girl happy. But they also knew that the girls were as close as sisters. They assumed Gigi would lie for Lily if she asked. And they were right.

  They also knew that Todd would never let anything improper happen to Lily, as he understood the world too, and he knew there would be consequences for his family, for his dad, if he didn’t look out for her.

  ‘You were wrong, you know. About Todd. He doesn’t have a girlfriend at all.’ Lily’s voice was sickly sweet. ‘You would make a lovely couple, Gigi.’

  Gigi stopped in the sand.

  ‘Couple?’

  ‘Yes. Don’t you see it?’

  Todd was handsome, yes. And he seemed to have grown out of his childhood shenanigans. But that didn’t mean Gigi was interested in him. They weren’t even friends.

  ‘No’ was all she could say.

  ‘Give it time. Often that’s all these things need. Can you do me a favour?’

  ‘Anything.’

  It wasn’t fair, what Lily asked. She knew Gigi wasn’t interested in Todd. Gigi had just told her. She also knew that Gigi would never say no to helping her out, and she used that against her: could she distract Todd so Lily and Richard could go for a short walk up the beach together? Alone.

  Gigi pouted at her.

  ‘Please, Gigi. For me.’

  That wasn’t fair either.

  ‘We won’t be long. We’ll just walk to the end of the beach and back. And we’ll stay in sight the whole time.’ She looked at Gigi with wide, pleading eyes.

  And Gigi couldn’t resist.

  ‘Thank you.’ Lily hugged her.

  Todd stood up as soon as Lily and Richard took a few steps away from the picnic blanket and Gigi groaned to herself. There was only one way to stop him following them.

  ‘So, Todd.’ Oh God, she wasn’t used to being fake. ‘I hear this year you’re going to be captaining the district football team.’

  He turned around and flashed her a self-assured smile. ‘You heard that, huh?’ He folded his arms across his chest and leaned towards her.

  Lord save me. ‘Yes.’

  Todd looked to the couple, their silhouettes getting smaller and smaller as they walked down the beach. He rocked back and forth – follow or stay?

  ‘Yes. That must mean you’re the best player around these parts.’ Okay, now she was actually going to vomit. She touched the pendant in her pocket.

  But at least that made him stay. And talk. About himself, without pause.

  Gigi nodded and uh-huh-ed where she should as he rabbited on and on. She feigned interest and shock in the appropriate places. Every now and then she glanced up the beach to see if Lily and Richard were on their way back yet, picking their way past the families dotted along the sand with their buckets and spades and umbrellas. When they finally did turn around and come back, relief washed over her.

  ‘I know, right? Amazing.’ Todd mistook her sigh for a reaction to whatever it was he’d said last.

  ‘You know what, Gilbert? This has been really nice.’

  ‘It has.’ Not really.

  ‘And you’re actually quite pretty, once you get past the gruff exterior.’ He reached out and touched a strand of her wild hair caught on the breeze. ‘I never noticed that before.’

  She stepped back.

  ‘Oh, here they come.’ She pointed to Lily and Richard, walking along the beach, Richard, always the gentleman, walking closest to the lapping water, giving fair warning to Lily if a bigger wave rolled in.

  Gigi’s heart swelled at the look of sheer joy on Lily’s face.

  ‘Did you miss us?’ Lily giggled.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Gigi hugged her.

  ‘Richard has to go to some tedious family thing this afternoon.’ Lily waved her hand dismissively. ‘I think it’s time to head home.’

  They all walked the short distance to the holiday house, where Mrs Woodhouse was sitting on the verandah, so very obviously waiting for her daughter. A look of relief briefly crossed her face when she saw all four of them together.

  ‘Todd, be a gentleman and walk Gigi home,’ Lily said, after they had all bade farewell.

  ‘Of course.’ He bowed his head slightly.

  Not wanting to make a scene in front of Lily’s mother, Gigi said nothing and let Todd walk with her until they were out of sight. Then she turned to him. ‘I think I can manage from here.’

  ‘Ah, come on, Gilbert. We got on so well today.’ He reached out to touch her arm.

  ‘I did that for Lily.’ She put her hands on her hips.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Todd, today was nice enough, but that’s all it was.’ She turned away.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her way. ‘Gilbert?’ His voice was low.

  ‘Please, Todd. Can’t we just be friends?’

  She turned again but he blocked her. She squeezed the pendant in her pocket. ‘Please?’

  Todd shifted to the side as Gigi did. He shuffled back when she did.

  ‘Is there a problem here?’

  Gigi spun around to see Costas standing there. A tall
er, more filled-out Costas than he’d been at the beginning of summer.

  ‘None of your business, wog.’ Todd stepped towards him then hesitated. Costas was now much taller than him, and with broad shoulders he cut a rather strong figure, bigger than any of the boys in Todd’s footy team. Gigi could see the conflict in Todd’s eyes.

  Costas didn’t move, just stood his ground.

  Gigi wasn’t sure how this would play out. And she wasn’t about to find out.

  ‘Todd and I were just saying goodbye. Lily hosted a picnic we were both at.’ She looked at Todd. ‘Goodbye, Todd. See you at school next week.’ She turned on her heel and headed towards home, hoping Costas would follow.

  A few strides down the street he caught up, falling into step with her.

  ‘You went away.’ She didn’t look at him.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘You didn’t say anything.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  Silence. All the way back to the caravan park.

  ‘And now you’re back?’ She turned and looked him in the eye and was met with sadness.

  ‘I am.’ He bowed his head. ‘Good afternoon, Virginia.’

  He strode off into the waning day.

  Arthur was sitting in the shade under the awning of his caravan when Gigi walked into the park.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, handing him back the pendant.

  ‘Did it help?’ He patted the deckchair next to him, inviting her to sit.

  ‘Yes.’

  From behind a forest of banksias, they couldn’t see the ocean from the caravan park, but they could hear the sound of waves crashing into the shore. The soundtrack to Gigi’s life. It was wild, and comforting; ever-changing yet perpetual.

  They sat there listening to the sea as they sorted through coins spread across the vinyl card table.

  ‘Thanks for your help with this,’ Arthur said. ‘Elaine, God rest her, was a beautiful soul. But she wasn’t the most organised of people.’

  ‘Tell me more about her.’

  Arthur leaned back in his chair and told Gigi how they’d met. It was clear he’d loved her, every day of their fifty years together. Gigi let Arthur’s tender words wash over her as they piled coins up. When they’d finished she sat forward as Arthur continued his love story, right up to Elaine’s passing.

  ‘I’m glad I found this little piece of paradise, Miss Gigi.’ Arthur’s voice floated into the cooling air.

  ‘I’m glad you did, too.’ Gigi pushed herself out of her chair, kissed him on the forehead and bade him goodnight.

  With the midnight moon casting an ethereal glow over Banksia Bay, Gigi climbed down from her tiny bunk in the living space of the cabin, careful not to wake Mum and Dad as she pulled on her overalls.

  She tiptoed through the caravan park and headed to the beach. Most of the tourists had gone now. In a few days the rest would disappear and she’d have her quiet stretch of peace back.

  Kicking off her slippers beside the fishing shack, she let her toes sink into the damp sand and drew in a deep breath of salty air. It wasn’t often she came down to the beach in the middle of the night – Mum would have a conniption if she ever found out – just every now and then, when she couldn’t sleep.

  She walked up the sand, jumping in and out of the tiny waves that lapped the shore, splashing around as she kicked off the white foam that stuck to her feet. She ran along the edge of the water, zigging in and zagging out until she reached the north end. The moon bounced silver light off the waves. Raising her arms in the air, she threw her head back to count the stars above. She always started the count right there at the Southern Cross, and she always gave up when she reached fifty-eight blinking dots.

  A cold shiver ran up the back of her neck and she spun around, scanning the beach. There, over in the dunes, was a dark figure. There was enough distance between them that she could probably outrun whoever it was. She was fast when she needed to be.

  She watched, for just a moment, before taking a few steps backwards. She was ready to run, but didn’t want to draw attention to herself. The figure stood up.

  Tall. Broad.

  He hadn’t seen her yet. She should run. Now.

  Turn, Gigi.

  She twisted her body, willing her feet to follow.

  He started to walk towards her.

  She stood still.

  She knew that gait, despite the boy she knew turning into a man over summer.

  He saw her, headed straight for her and stopped, just a few inches in front of her.

  Gigi stared up into Costas’ face. He’d been crying, the tracks of his tears still stained against his dark skin.

  ‘Do you want to do something fun?’ she whispered. She couldn’t bear to see him looking so sad.

  ‘Sure.’

  She led him to the water’s edge and drew a line in the sand with her toes where the waves stopped and returned to the ocean. It was a game she used to play with Ian, before he went and became an adult. You stood on the line, watching the waves, and waited till the very last minute before jumping as high as you could in the air. If you timed it right, you landed after the water had receded. If you didn’t, splash.

  ‘And you have to land on this side of the line.’ Gigi tapped the wet sand with her foot. ‘Or you’re out.’

  The first two waves, Costas jumped far too early and landed right as the wave crossed the line, splashing salty water all over his rolled-up trousers.

  Gigi laughed. ‘It’s about timing. Watch me, and wait.’

  Costas looked into her eyes and he twitched as the next wave came in.

  ‘Wait.’ Gigi’s voice was low.

  Costas rocked back and forth.

  ‘Wait,’ she said, as he bent his knees. ‘Now!’

  They jumped high into the air, landing just as the waved rolled backwards.

  ‘And that’s how it’s done.’ Gigi bowed.

  Costas won the next two waves; the height he got on his jumps was seriously impressive.

  On the next wave, Gigi lost her balance trying to stretch herself further and she fell into Costas, forcing them both to tumble onto the sand, rolling away from each other as they laughed.

  Costas hauled himself to his feet. ‘Thank you, Virginia. I needed that.’

  He held his hand out to help her up. She took it and as he pulled her to standing they stared into each other’s eyes.

  Costas tilted his head towards the south, towards the fishing shack, as he angled his body away from her and she fell into step beside him.

  In silence they walked, close to each other, his hands brushing hers briefly every now and then. She didn’t dare look at him. Didn’t dare reach out.

  Outside the fishing shack, Costas waited for her to put her shoes back on and then led her to the road and walked her to the edge of the caravan park. He bowed and then tipped his imaginary hat, looking deeply into her eyes, before turning and striding into the night.

  Gigi sucked in great gulps of air, her heart racing, as she watched him disappear into the dark.

  Laura was up before the sun, pacing the living room and waiting for the clock to tick over to six-twenty-five. She didn’t want to appear too keen. She didn’t want to be late. She didn’t want to be seen in a pair of swimmers either, but there was no getting around that.

  Six-O-five.

  She checked her emails and fired off a quick note to Maher.

  ‘Holiday doing me good. Very relaxing.’ Lie. ‘Start surfing lessons today. Send rescue helicopter.’

  She made a cup of coffee. How hard was this surfing thing actually going to be? Harder than she thought, probably. She tried to imagine jumping up on the board, catching a wave. What she mostly imagined was falling off. Heath having to catch her. His hands around her waist . . .

  For goodness’ sake, stop it.

  He may not be married and off limits anymore, but he was the last thing she needed right now. Not that the thought of a brief hot fling wasn’t appealing. It most definitely was. Bu
t he was Virginia’s grandson and Laura was deceiving them all. There was no way that could end well. Rule number ten, don’t get personally involved in your stories.

  And this is a story, she reminded herself.

  If only she could figure out a way to get out of what would surely be total humiliation today. Was that a stomach-ache she felt coming on? No. That would do her no good. Heath would be kind and understanding and simply postpone her torture to another day. And to maintain her façade about her fictitious travel article, she’d have to go through with it eventually. Surfing was part of the town’s culture and history, after all. He’d played that card well.

  There was nothing else to do but just get it over and done with. Maybe she’d be so bad that he’d give up on her altogether, suggesting she try her hand at milking cows or harvesting honey to get a dose of true local flavour.

  Hmm. Now that was maybe worth angling for. Not that she’d have to fake incompetence on a surfboard. She was fairly sure that would come quite naturally.

  Six-twenty.

  A knock on the door.

  ‘You ready?’ Heath called from the verandah.

  Laura walked down the hall, Darth Vader’s march playing in her head.

  ‘Ah, great.’ Heath stood before her smiling, a wetsuit covering his lower body, the top half of the suit folded over, his chest and arms bare. ‘Thought I’d better swing by on my way to make sure you were up. Which you are. Shall we?’

  Laura took a deep breath.

  She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but she had thought at least she’d get wet. Hence the swimmers – red polka dots. They had been a gift a few Christmases ago from Lillian. Polka dots were always her grandmother’s favourite. Lillian had at least five outfits in different spotted colours. Laura’s earliest memory of her grandmother was sitting in her lap as she read aloud, Laura joining the dots on her dress to make imaginary patterns.

  Polka-dot swimmers seemed a waste right now, though, as she and Heath spent the first half-hour on the sand, lying on the board, Laura trying to jump up, keep her weight balanced and land both feet at the same time, in a smooth action, and not fall off the board straight away even if she did manage those first few steps. Which she didn’t. Not even once.

 

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