Yvonne indicated the need for silence again and pointed to the room.
Gigi slipped past the officer and Yvonne stayed outside.
Costas was lying in the bed, a mess of dried blood and bruises.
She went to his side and touched his hand gently.
He stirred.
With bleary eyes he looked at her, his swollen lips turning up.
‘Virginia? You’re okay?’
Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of him.
‘Good.’
‘I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you under guard?’ she whispered.
‘It’s the only way.’ His words were soft, slow. ‘The only way to protect you.’
He was making no sense.
‘I confessed. To killing Richard.’
Gigi covered her mouth so she wouldn’t scream.
‘It will ruin your life, Virginia. Do you have any idea how powerful Woodhouse is? His son-in-law is dead. Someone is going to have to pay. I won’t let it be you.’
‘No. You can’t do this for me. It isn’t right. I . . . I think . . . I don’t really remember. It’s all a bit foggy.’ Snippets of the night came back to her in flashes – Richard forcing himself on her, his head hitting a rock. Had she pushed him? Had he fallen? A rock in her hand. Oh no. Costas picking up the rock. She tried to fight through the fog.
Costas stroked her hand. ‘They won’t believe you. Todd has already corroborated my story. He said he saw the whole thing. That you were trying to kiss Richard and he pushed you away. That I saw it and flew into a jealous rage. That I tried to take you for myself and Richard tried to stop me, and that’s when I hit him with the rock.’
Gigi’s stomach tightened. ‘But they have to believe the truth.’
‘Whose truth, Virginia? The honourable son of the local copper, or the girl who’s been throwing herself at the greasy wog for the last few months? That’s what they’ll say. Can you even remember the details?’
‘Not all of them. But enough.’
‘My confession is all they need.’
Gigi couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Surely if she told the truth, they would see it. They had to. This couldn’t happen.
‘No. I’ll tell them now.’ She turned, but Costas grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
‘Virginia. You’ll go to gaol. They’ll lock you away forever.’
She yanked her arm free. ‘But you can’t ruin your life for me.’
‘If you were sent to gaol, I’d have no life. Virginia, listen to me carefully. This is only a taste of what happens in gaol.’ He pointed to his injuries. ‘I will not let this happen to you. I couldn’t protect you from Richard. I’m so sorry. Let me protect you now.’
‘No. Costas, you can’t.’ Tears streamed down her face.
‘I already have.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Go. Before they find you here.’
‘No!’ she screamed. A nurse came running in, followed by the police officer, and they dragged Gigi from the room. Someone injected her with another sedative and Gigi was taken by the haze once more.
In the early hours of the morning, the rain finally began to ease. Laura lay in Heath’s arms, naked beneath the blanket that covered them. She reached up and touched his cheek, running her finger along his scar. He stirred but didn’t wake.
She’d drifted in and out of sleep for the last hour or so, soothed by the rhythmic sound of soft snoring beside her.
She unwrapped herself from Heath’s arms and stood by the window facing the ocean. The first rays of light were reaching out from the horizon, casting a soft light over the debris that covered the sand.
‘We’re in for a mighty big clean-up today.’ Heath’s sleepy voice floated across the shack.
She turned around to see him stretching as he rose, his bare muscles tightening and relaxing. He pulled on his jeans and walked towards her.
‘Good morning.’ He kissed her forehead and hugged her. ‘I’ll fix us a caffeine hit and then we should probably go and check everyone’s all right. The phones are out.’ He waved his mobile in the air.
Together they sat on the sofa drinking their coffee.
‘Laura? Can I ask you what you were doing under the jetty last night?’
‘I . . . went for a run, to clear my head. You were angry with me . . . Rightly so,’ she added when he started to protest. ‘And Virginia had come by, and then Charlotte. And the whole situation is a complete mess, one that I’ve created myself. I thought you were never going to speak to me again. Then my boss rang and he wants me home. I just needed to think. I didn’t even realise it was raining at first.’
‘Rough day, huh?’ He smiled.
‘Yep.’ She leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘It got better, though.’
‘That’s life. Always twisting and turning,’ Heath whispered into her ear.
‘Do you think Virginia and Charlotte will forgive me? For lying about why I was here?’
‘I think they already have. They both told me to come see you.’
Laura tilted her head.
‘Gran’s pretty shaken up, though, about whatever the big secret is. Do you have any idea?’
She pushed herself up and swivelled around on the sofa to face him. ‘I have plenty of ideas. From a secret affair to an alien invasion.’
Heath’s lips turned ever so slightly upwards.
‘But nothing concrete. I told Virginia I’d leave it in her hands if she wants to tell me, or not.’
‘That can’t have been easy.’
Laura shook her head. ‘It wasn’t. I’ve never let a story go before. I’m desperate to know about my nan, and Virginia has the answers. But I think I’ve caused enough pain already. And something Charlotte said makes sense.’
‘Curse her, she is often the voice of reason.’ He chuckled.
‘She said that sometimes people have good reasons to keep secrets.’
Heath coughed and shifted his body weight.
‘I’ve been thinking about that most of the night.’ Laura stood up. ‘And I think she’s right. I mean, I don’t think it’s good that we do. Look what happened here. But I think she’s spot-on that people often believe they’re doing the right thing by keeping secrets. Does that make sense?’
Heath joined her in the middle of the shack. ‘It does. A lot, actually.’ He looked at the floor. ‘Laura, I have to tell you . . .’
His phone trilled loudly.
‘Back on, I guess.’ He answered. ‘Yes. I’m fine. You guys? Yes, she’s fine too. No. Wait for us. We’ll be there in a minute.’
He put his phone in his pocket. ‘How quickly can you get dressed? That was Charlotte. She needs some help.’
The destruction the storm had wreaked was devastating and indiscriminate. Heath and Laura picked their way over the fallen trees and branches strewn across the main road as they headed to Charlotte’s house. The roof of the bakery lay in the middle of the street and the windows of the post office had shattered, thousands of tiny pieces of glass that looked like hail littering the footpath. But the pub appeared unscathed, as did the grocer’s, other than the flapping awning which had come loose in one corner.
As they stepped their way through the debris, other people started to emerge to inspect the damage. The houses off the main road had fared much the same. Some had pieces of roof missing, some cars had windscreens smashed in. Others were seemingly untouched, the pools of water in the front yards the only indication that there had even been a storm.
They waved to Trish and Ian, who stood in their dressing gowns looking up at the holes in their pergola. The old surfer waved back, no words exchanged. Laura hoped Ian’s studio had survived.
When they arrived at Charlotte’s they were confronted by the sight of a fallen tree right through the centre of Charlotte’s car.
Heath broke into a run. ‘Charlotte?’
Charlotte came running out of the house, followed closely by Aiden.
Heath threw his arms around both
of them. ‘Are you okay? Are you both okay?’
‘Yes. We’re fine.’ Charlotte kissed her brother.
‘And Gran?’
‘I’m fine too.’ Virginia emerged. ‘Luckily it missed the house.’
Laura watched on, relief flooding through her. Charlotte untangled herself from Heath’s embrace and hugged her. ‘And you’re all right?’
Laura held her tightly. ‘Heath helped me shelter.’
‘Good.’ Charlotte squeezed her hand.
Aiden was telling Heath all about how brave he had been, helping Mummy tape up the windows and reading to Gran so she wouldn’t be so scared.
‘You did a great job, buddy.’ Heath gave him a high five, and Aiden grabbed onto his hand.
They started to head inside when Virginia stopped. ‘Heath, would you mind walking with me to Yvonne’s? She’s not answering her phone and I just want to make sure she’s okay.’
‘Of course.’ Heath began to move, but Aiden refused to let go. ‘It’s not far, why don’t we all go?’ Heath suggested, and Aiden nodded emphatically.
Yvonne’s house was only a block away and they walked in silence, nodding at neighbours as they passed. The thick black clouds that had brought so much destruction were beginning to break up, and the morning’s light burst through them with a happiness that seemed out of place. An eerie quiet hung over the streets.
From the corner they could see the Bodhi Bus parked in Yvonne’s driveway, a couple of tarps and blankets crumpled across the roof and sliding down the side.
Virginia picked up her pace and the others followed. As they came round to the other side of the driveway they saw Yvonne.
Lying beside the Bodhi Bus.
Hands clutching a blanket.
Chest not moving, blood staining her forehead.
‘No!’ Virginia screamed, running to her friend’s side. She wiped the blood from Yvonne’s face with her bare hands.
Charlotte knelt beside her. ‘There’s a pulse, but it’s weak.’ She looked up to Heath. ‘We need to get her help, but the paramedics are going to have a tough time getting through. There’s so much debris on the roads.’
Laura struggled to breathe. Yvonne didn’t look good. At all. And they were completely isolated. What should she do? Yvonne was in trouble. The whole town was in trouble.
‘I’m on it.’ Heath grabbed Laura’s hand and dragged her a few houses away to Ryan’s place, where a motorbike sat under a carport, unscathed by the storm.
‘Mate, we need to borrow that,’ Heath barked as Ryan came outside. On Heath’s instructions Ryan collected ropes and a broom and a wheelbarrow, and Laura ran off to get Ian and Trish, her heart racing.
With only one road in and out of Banksia Bay, all they had to do was clear a path wide enough along the main street for an ambulance to get through. Other people came to help once they saw what was happening.
Laura could hear sirens as she swept small tree branches to the side of the road and Ryan and Heath towed the larger debris – huge branches, torn-up roof panels – out of the way with the bike.
Eventually the ambulance arrived and the paramedics started work on Yvonne.
Virginia, all colour drained from her face, tried to climb into the back of the ambulance when they moved Yvonne from the driveway.
‘Sorry, Virginia.’ The older of the two paramedics put his hand on her shoulder. ‘We’re going to have to transport more than one patient.’
Around the corner two men carried another who was seriously hurt, his khaki chinos covered in blood.
‘Hop on, Gran,’ Heath said, patting the motorbike seat behind him, and Virginia didn’t hesitate.
They followed the ambulance out of town, and Laura wrapped her arm around Charlotte’s shoulders as they watched them disappear.
It didn’t take long for people to gather at the pub. Rosters were being drawn up with the most urgent jobs listed first, and people were assigning themselves to groups to get started.
Gary, a Bay fireman attached to the Ocean Heights brigade and the local State Emergency Services coordinator, was in charge. He was efficient and calm, and everyone did as he said. There was a group tasked with clearing the side streets, so that services could get in and out. A couple of farmers from the district had offered up their trucks to help haul out the larger debris. Tradies, both local and from Ocean Heights, were dropping in to the pub and being assigned tasks – fixing leaks in residential homes, repairing powerlines.
Charlotte was put in charge of attending to minor wounds – mostly scrapes and cuts, a few bruises, one broken leg; those with more serious injuries were slowly being ferried to the hospital in Ocean Heights. Ian was asked to coordinate crews to start tarping damaged roofs.
Heath strode into the pub.
‘How is she?’ Charlotte asked, and everyone turned to face him.
‘Touch and go. Gran’s with her. I thought I’d be more useful here.’
He and Ryan were assigned to one of the repair crews.
Laura felt useless standing there watching everyone swing into action. What good were her investigative skills in a situation like this? She looked around, wondering where she could be the most help.
‘Have you ever used tools?’ Heath came up to her as he wrapped a tool belt around his waist.
‘No.’ How hard could it be?
‘Our team is going to start at the bakery.’ He handed her a hammer. ‘I’ll show you how.’
As evening rolled around and darkness settled in, the crew at the bakery stopped work. They could only do a patch-up job. Until supplies could be brought in and the insurance companies had made their assessments, all they could do was make things safe, hopefully watertight, and return some basic amenities.
Heath put his arm around Laura’s shoulders as they headed back to the pub. It was one of the buildings that had suffered little damage and everyone was heading back there for a hot feed.
‘You did good today. You worked as hard as the seasoned tradies.’
What else could she do? This was home to these people. Not only were they physically distressed, but their hearts were hurting. If they could tough it out and work, then so could she.
‘It doesn’t seem enough.’
‘It’ll be weeks before the clean-up is complete. Some things will take months. But the sooner we can get the businesses up and running, the better. With winter around the corner, it’s going to be tough for some of them to survive till the tourists come in summer.’
The hint of an idea started to form in Laura’s mind. Perhaps she could use her skills to help.
At the pub, where the back-up generator was whirring, the sweet smell of onions and snags cooking on the barbecue was a welcome tonic. Hot chips and vinegar were also being served, and beer was on the house. Laura stuck to water, but tucked into a sausage sandwich like she hadn’t eaten for a week.
Ian sat in the corner ticking off a long list of tasks that had been accomplished and making an even longer one for tomorrow.
Laura took him a schooner.
‘Thanks, love. I heard you did us proud today.’ He raised his glass to her in salute and then took a long gulp, downing half the amber liquid. ‘Ahh.’
‘I have an idea, Ian, which you might be able to help me with.’ She sat down and outlined the very sketchy plan she’d come up with. It would need tweaking, but it had merit and they agreed to meet in the morning just before dawn.
Carrying a sleeping Aiden in his arms, Heath walked Charlotte home and then went with Laura to check out the damage to the holiday house. There was one smashed window, a little water damage, some plants flattened by the storm. Heath nailed a tarp across the broken window and helped Laura mop up the water covering the floor.
They sunk into the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate each, extra marshmallows, but neither one of them finished their drink before they fell asleep propped up against each other.
In the morning, Laura’s vibrating phone alarm woke her just before sunrise. She sl
ipped off the sofa, pulled the crocheted blanket over Heath, left him a note on the sideboard and went out. She picked her way to the jetty through the trees and seaweed that covered the beach and waited for Ian.
When he arrived, he had five young men and women with him. Laura had seen them before, surfing. They had rakes and gloves with them.
‘This lot are going to make a start on that.’ Ian waved his hand at the debris covering the sand. ‘And Chad here will bring his bobcat down later to help out. Now, love. Shall we get started?’ He pulled his camera out of his backpack.
Laura had no idea if this would work, but she could try. For an hour she and Ian walked around town, him taking photos, her taking notes. She still hadn’t thought the whole thing through yet, but the more she considered it, the more she hoped it would work.
As the people of Banksia Bay started to stir, Laura and Ian headed to the shack. It was open, and Heath and Charlotte were having a coffee on the deck.
‘Morning.’ Heath waved. ‘You planning on running off with my girl, you old salty?’ He slapped Ian on the back and embraced Laura. She held back a giggle at the ‘old salty’ reference.
‘I’m pretty sure this one’s only got eyes for you, mate. I’m going to go see if these guys need a hand.’ He pointed down the beach to the clean-up team working on the sand. ‘See you at midday?’ He looked at Laura.
‘See you then.’
‘So, what’s this plan you’ve cooked up together?’ Heath asked.
‘Well, something you said yesterday kind of hit me. About the businesses rebuilding and sustaining themselves till summer. I was thinking maybe, if the town agrees, of doing a story. Encourage people to visit in winter. It might help?’
The look of warmth Heath gave her was all she needed to know that it wasn’t a ridiculous idea.
At midday Laura met Ian and they took more photos of the volunteers working tirelessly to clean up and rebuild. In every photo, the people had smiles on their faces. Sometimes exhausted smiles, but grins nevertheless. As Ian snapped away, Laura wrote down her observations – details of the work being done, the names of the people doing the work, the feelings swirling inside her as she documented what was happening: despair and hope, fear and pride, sadness and awe.
The Banksia Bay Beach Shack Page 28