The Banksia Bay Beach Shack

by Sandie Docker

  She was asking herself questions she’d already answered or ruled out as irrelevant. She was imagining people tampering with her files at the library. And the ink on the paper as she read her notes kept blurring. When you started questioning absolutely everything, you couldn’t see the answers.

  It was most definitely time to put rule seven into play and step away, get some sorely needed perspective. She’d have to take a break for at least twenty-four hours. That’s what she did when she was missing perspective on a story.

  Then, hopefully, she could focus on the questions and people that really mattered.

  Virginia paced the living room in Yvonne’s small house, her hands sweating, her mouth dry.

  ‘You saw it? With your own eyes?’

  Yvonne nodded. ‘She knows there are issues of The Bugle missing.’

  Virginia stopped and turned. ‘And you couldn’t get anything out of her about the angle of her story?’

  ‘Nope. Tight-lipped, she was.’

  The two women moved into the kitchen and Yvonne started getting their dinner ready. Virginia got out two plates and set the table. Every Monday for far too many years to count, they’d eaten dinner together. Once Virginia’s little boy had grown up and moved out, she was terribly lonely, and Yvonne had stepped in, filling the void.

  ‘There’s one other thing.’ Yvonne wrung her hands in the tea towel she was holding.

  ‘What?’ Virginia turned to face her. What else could there possibly be?

  Yvonne fidgeted with her sleeve.

  ‘Out with it.’

  ‘I think . . . I think maybe what’s going on between her and Heath might be, well, more than . . . more than nothing.’

  Virginia raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I think they might actually like each other.’

  No. Virginia couldn’t let this happen. It was one thing if Miss City Hotshot Reporter was here to destroy her. But not Heath.

  ‘Stop. I know what you’re thinking.’ Yvonne put her tea towel down and stood in front of Virginia. ‘But this might be a good thing.’

  ‘How? How on earth is that a good thing?’

  ‘If there are real emotions involved, well, then it will be harder for her to expose the truth. If that’s what she’s here to do. And we still don’t know for sure that she is.’

  Yvonne had been there for Virginia through all of life’s highs and lows. Especially the lows. And here she was again, trying to comfort Virginia, protect her. And she never asked for anything in return. What a terrible blow it had turned out for her, to be Virginia’s friend.

  Guilt was a gnawing pain that ate away at Virginia every damn day of her life. So many lives ruined by one single moment.

  And the heaviest burden of all those ruined lives for Virginia to bear was Yvonne’s.

  She retrieved the red paper serviettes from the sideboard and folded them into little fans. The roast lamb Yvonne had cooked smelled delicious as she carried it to the table. Virginia had never told her how much the woody aroma of the oregano she used tore at her heart.

  They sat down and Yvonne said a prayer as she always did. Virginia had given up on God sixty years ago, but she still bowed her head. There were times Virginia had no desire for their weekly meal together, but she had never let her friend down. How could she? Some debts were so great they could never be repaid. All Virginia could do was share with Yvonne the simple moments in life that made up a friendship; so desperately inadequate to atone for what had happened.

  January 1963

  There wasn’t a lot of sweetness to the remainder of the summer holidays.

  There were only two more days until Gigi had to say goodbye to Lily. And while she hadn’t seen her much in the two weeks since her engagement to Richard – there were, apparently, so many details to attend to already, even though the wedding wouldn’t be for another six months – saying goodbye would not be easy. This summer’s end meant everything was about to change. She knew that. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  Next week Gigi would be back at boring old school, but thankfully this would be her last year. Small blessings, she supposed.

  At least there was no way Lily would miss the end-of-summer bonfire the surf boys always put on. They’d been going together every year since they’d met in 1956.

  Gigi wandered her private banksia track till she got to the top of the hill, where she could see the beach stretched out below her. A couple of guys, she assumed Ian was among them, were already starting to gather wood for tomorrow night’s party.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ A voice made her jump.

  She turned around to see Costas standing a few strides behind her.

  ‘I didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot.’ Costas took off his hat. His dark eyes shone in the sunlight, his dark skin glistening with sweat.

  ‘Me neither.’ Gigi found her voice, despite the tightness in her throat. ‘I was just looking at the view. Do you want to join me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  They sat on the edge of the cliff, just back from the grey rocks that stacked on top of each other down the hill.

  ‘How did you find out about this spot?’ she asked him.

  ‘I was exploring one day, and just kind of stumbled upon it. It has the best seed pods.’ He pulled a banksia seed pod out of his pocket.

  Only it wasn’t a banksia seed pod; usually big, rough, ugly-looking hunks of hairy wood. This had been carved and polished into a delicate mushroom. The holes from the parts of the seed pod, which Gigi always thought looked like eyes, allowed light to penetrate the carving, giving it an ethereal feel.

  ‘Did you make this?’ She took the mushroom and turned it around so it could catch the light from different angles.

  Costas nodded.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ Gigi exhaled in wonder.

  ‘It’s yours.’

  She looked up into his dark eyes and he gazed back at her. And she knew she wasn’t wrong. He did have feelings for her. He couldn’t look at her like that if he didn’t.

  ‘A piece of me to stay with you, even when I’m not there.’

  Gigi struggled to draw breath. ‘Luckily, with school starting up again next week, you’ll be around a lot more,’ she whispered.

  Costas dropped his gaze.

  ‘What?’

  Staring out to the ocean, Costas spoke softly. ‘I won’t be at school this year.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Mama and Baba . . . they have decided I need to work. I have to be able to provide . . . because I will be . . . they have found me a job in Ocean Heights.’

  What wasn’t he telling her? She desperately wanted to ask, but she was afraid to know. All that came out of her mouth was a muffled ‘Oh.’

  ‘I will miss seeing you every day.’ His voice cracked and Gigi dared to look his way. There was a sadness in his eyes and she swallowed deeply.

  ‘Well, we can still go fishing in the mornings. And on weekends.’ Gigi smiled.

  He reached out and took her hand. Heat coursed through Gigi’s veins.

  ‘Thank you, Virginia. For always being so kind to me.’

  She could see the tears that rimmed his eyes and he turned away. He wouldn’t let her see him cry. She knew that.

  ‘Well, it was kind of easy. I enjoy spending time with you.’ Oh dear. Had those words actually come out of her mouth? She really was feeling the melancholy of the last days of summer holidays. It was making her all soppy. Making her forget propriety. Not that she usually cared about propriety.

  Costas squeezed her hand and she gasped. He pulled away.

  ‘Sorry. I should go.’ He stood up and moved away. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No.’ Gigi jumped up after him. ‘Please don’t go.’

  ‘It’s all right, Virginia. I understand how the world works.’ He cast his eyes down.

  Now Gigi was plain old confused. He was pulling away again. ‘What?’ She had no idea what was going on.

  ‘I’ll leave you to your peace.’ He turned a
nd started to walk back down the track.

  No. She didn’t want him to leave. Up here, alone, with no judging eyes looking on, they could be themselves. Just like when they went to the rock pools and fished, or dug for crabs in the sand. It didn’t matter that she was poor and wore boy’s overalls and would rather fish than do her hair. It didn’t matter that he was an outsider. They were just Gigi and Costas.

  ‘Will you be at the bonfire tomorrow tonight?’ She blurted out the question – anything to keep him there.

  ‘I’m not sure I’d be welcome.’ He looked over his shoulder to her.

  ‘I’d like you to come.’ What had come over her? She turned away, unable to face him after being so bold.

  From behind her she could feel him step up close. She could hear his breath – fast, short.

  She closed her eyes, anticipating his touch, how it would feel if he put his arm around her shoulder, kissed her neck. She drew in a deep breath and waited.

  A cool breeze hit her back and she spun around.

  Costas was gone.

  She slumped into the grass and pulled her denim-clad legs tightly into her chest, resting her chin on her knees, and she watched the beach through salt-veiled eyes. In her hand she held tightly onto the carved mushroom Costas had given her.

  Gigi trudged back to the caravan park, and as she dragged her feet along the long gravel driveway, she looked up and saw Dr Harper’s car near reception. He didn’t make too many house calls all the way from Ocean Heights. She started running.

  ‘Mum? Dad?’ she called out, her heart beating faster. There was no one in reception. Where were they?

  As she rounded the common building she saw a small crowd gathered around Arthur’s van.

  She slowed to a walk.

  As she got closer her steps became even shorter. She caught sight of her dad, and when his eyes found hers, he beckoned her over.

  Arthur was in his chair, seemingly asleep, his face tilted towards the sun. He looked happy.

  ‘It was his heart, love,’ Dad said, putting his arm around Gigi’s shoulder. ‘It was quick. There was no pain.’

  Dr Harper was packing up his medical bag and Mum was trying to disperse the crowd. Gigi sat down beside Arthur and stared at the ground.

  Once everyone was gone, and the ambulance had taken Arthur to the hospital in Ocean Heights, Dad helped Gigi to her feet.

  ‘He was all packed up, ready to head off. He’d come by reception not an hour ago to drop this off for you.’ Dad handed her a small parcel tied with a blue ribbon. ‘He said, “One last cuppa and then I’ll be off.” Shame. Such a nice fellow.’ Dad patted her cheek. ‘Someone will be by tomorrow to take care of his things. Come inside, hey, love?’

  ‘In a minute.’ She held up the parcel. Dad squeezed her shoulder and let her be.

  Alone, Gigi opened the small box. Inside was the silver pendant with sapphire gems. Gigi held it to her chest. There was also a note.

  Elaine always said the guardian angel chose who to look out for. I believe she’s chosen you.

  Gigi closed her eyes. Thank you.

  The door to Arthur’s van was open. That wasn’t right. She should close it up. She folded down the camping table and chairs and lifted them into the van, placing them just inside the door. She put the lid on the shoebox of coins, the pieces now all divided into envelopes. As she backed out, she noticed Arthur’s suitcase open, his clothes inside neatly folded and packed. She stepped in and closed the lid. Behind the suitcase his large map of Australia was laid out – all the places he never got to see.

  A single tear fell down Gigi’s cheek. It wasn’t fair.

  Possessed by a force she didn’t understand, Gigi folded up the map and slipped it into the front pocket of her overalls. She knew it was wrong. It wasn’t hers. She had no right to take it.

  But whoever was coming tomorrow to pick up Arthur’s things wouldn’t understand how important the map was. They’d probably just throw it away. And she couldn’t have that.

  As night melted from deep blue to the hollow black that engulfed the sky just before dawn, Gigi lay in bed staring at the little make-shift shelf above her where she kept her most prized possessions.

  Arthur’s map now sat up against the wall, and Gigi had put Elaine’s pendant in a small, tin jewellery box that had once belonged to her grandmother. Beside the jewellery box was the mushroom Costas had carved. Beside that, perched precariously on the edge, sat a scrapbook she’d been keeping since she was little – all the important moments in her life were inside. Also on the shelf was a ticket stub from Taronga Zoo – the only time Gigi had ever been to Sydney – and the white gloves from Lily that she would never wear. They were the most beautiful things she possessed.

  Some might say it wasn’t much of a collection, but to her it was everything, a handful of precious moments that made up her life.

  In the morning Gigi rose before her parents and knocked over her chores faster than usual. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the caravan park when Arthur’s things were taken away.

  Once Mum had checked her work and signed off on the list of jobs she’d set, Gigi took off into the hills. As far away as she could get.

  She wandered the tracks, familiar to her since she was little – so many hours of her childhood spent here alone. And soon she’d be alone again. Arthur was gone. Lily was getting married. Costas wasn’t returning to school. She loved her piece of paradise – the banksia-covered hills, the soft yellow sand older than time, the ocean so wild and peaceful – and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. But sometimes it could feel like the loneliest place on earth.

  ‘What are you doing wandering around here, Gilbert?’

  Gigi stopped and dropped her head. The last thing she needed this morning was to have to deal with Todd. She turned around to face him, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips.

  ‘You’re a bit far from home, aren’t you?’

  Gigi looked around. She had walked all the way over the headland, right to the outskirts of town.

  ‘I was just walking. What are you doing here?’

  ‘Richard and I came up here for some target practice.’

  It was then that Gigi noticed the rifle very casually leaning against his leg.

  Because he was the son of the local copper, Todd’s knowledge of shooting wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Once, in primary school, he’d even brought in one of his dad’s pistols for show-and-tell. Miss Smith had nearly had a heart attack when he led the school outside and showed them what a good shot he was, knocking the tin cans he’d set up that morning off the fence posts. She’d had very stern words with Todd’s dad that afternoon about perhaps not sending a loaded gun to school next time Todd wanted show ‘how proud he was of his father’, Todd’s father had looked embarrassed, Todd pleased with himself.

  The sight of his rifle now made Gigi nervous. She’d seen plenty of guns before. There were farms all around Banksia Bay, and where there were farms, farmers had guns. She’d even fired one once when she was twelve, on Grandpa Gilbert’s farm. But this was different.

  ‘Where is Richard?’ He might not have been her favourite person on the planet right now, taking away her best friend like he was, but she would have felt a lot safer if he was there.

  ‘Oh, he just rode back into town to get a few more of these.’ Todd bent over and picked up an empty beer bottle. ‘What’s up, Gilbert? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

  ‘Yes. I’m not feeling well. I think I should head back home.’

  ‘Wait on just a moment.’ Todd picked up the rifle and stepped towards her. ‘You’re not going to go dob on me, are you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  The son of the Bay’s policeman being caught drunk in the middle of the day would certainly cause a ruckus in town.

  Mrs Andrews not only ran the ladies’ guild, who believed themselves to be the moral compass of the community, but also printed The Bay Bugle once a month, the bakery giving her access to a
ll the best local gossip. It was full of half-truths and juicy tidbits that kept idle tongues wagging around town. This was exactly the sort of story she’d print.

  But Gigi had no plans to be part of any Bugle article.

  ‘It’s none of my business what you’ve been doing, Todd.’

  ‘I’ve only had one. No one’s going to care that I’ve only had one.’

  Gigi backed away very slowly.

  The sound of a car pulling up made her turn and she breathed out in relief when she saw Richard get out.

  ‘Hi, Gigi.’ Richard smiled. ‘Would you like to join us?’ He held up four bottles of beer.

  ‘No, thank you. I was just leaving.’

  ‘Stay, Gilbert. We can have some fun,’ Todd called out.

  Gigi kept her eye on him but didn’t respond.

  ‘Can I offer you a lift back home?’ Richard stepped between the two and Gigi followed him to his car.

  Along the road back into town, Richard made excuses for Todd. It couldn’t be easy being the only son of the only policeman in town. He really was a good guy.

  Gigi listened without responding.

  As they neared the caravan park, Richard slowed the car down.

  ‘There’s not going to be any trouble out of this, is there, Gigi?’ He turned and looked at her, his eyes steely in warning.

  ‘Not from me, there’s not.’

  Richard reached across the space between them and patted her on the leg. ‘Good girl.’

  A shiver ran up her spine and she scrambled out of the car.

  ‘See you tonight,’ Richard called out, and Gigi waved as she turned and ran home.

  For the first time she could remember, Gigi wasn’t looking forward to the end-of-summer bonfire. Todd would be there and so would Richard, neither of whom she really cared to see. But it was her last chance to spend time with Lily. Their last chance before everything changed. She wouldn’t say anything to her friend about what had happened during the day. There was no point. Technically, nothing had happened. And Gigi was fairly sure that if she did bring it up, Lily would simply dismiss it as ‘boys being boys’. Maybe Gigi was overreacting. Todd hadn’t actually done anything wrong and Richard was, well, he was just making sure she wouldn’t dob. She rubbed her leg where he’d pressed his hand. People did funny things when they were scared.