Love Notes from Vinegar House

by Karen Tayleur

“I can surf,” said Rumer, pausing to check an ad for lip gloss.

  “Really?” I don’t have what you might call a poker face, and I guess I don’t have a poker voice either, because Rumer looked up from her magazine.

  “You remember. Dad and I went to Hawaii last year. I took some lessons,” she said, firmly. Then she wriggled her legs against my back so that I tipped off the bed and fell to the floor with a thud.

  “Sorry,” she said. “My foot went to sleep.”

  I stood up awkwardly and dusted the sand off my shorts.

  “Were you going to the beach?” she asked pointedly.

  I had been dismissed.

  The Harts arrived in a flurry of car honks after lunch, with their surfboards perched on top of their over-packed station wagon and their slightly worn caravan in tow. Everyone rushed outside to see them, and Luke emerged from the back seat, blinking at the bright sun as if he’d just woken, a crushed drink can in one hand.

  “Hi, Shrimp,” he muttered, ruffling my hair.

  Ebony tumbled out behind him, water wings already attached to her arms and zinc on her nose. “I’m going swimming,” she announced. “Luke has braces.” Then she pointed behind me. “Who’s that?”

  I turned around to Rumer dressed in black from head to … well … the top of her thigh. Her tight black T-shirt looked like it had been sprayed on, and her cut-off jeans nipped in at the waist to show off the rest of her great figure. Her hair was shoved up in a loose bun, but strands of it curled about her face and the nape of her neck. I wondered how long it had taken her to look so casual. A striped beach towel was draped over one shoulder and a pair of dark sunglasses hid half of her face.

  “You remember Rumer,” I said to Ebony. “You met her at my birthday.”

  Ebony shook her head. Megan and Isabella had already found each other and had gone inside the shack for a cold drink. Luke was standing near the car looking like he’d been run over by a train, which wasn’t a look I’d ever seen on him before.

  “You know Rumer, Luke?” I asked. “You met her–”

  “Hi,” he said, interrupting me. He gave her a huge smile, and I could see his beautiful teeth strapped in with wires and coloured bands. It made him look like a stranger.

  Rumer let her sunglasses slide down her nose and she peered at him with her bright blue eyes.

  “Oh. Hello,” she said, as if I hadn’t mentioned that she’d be meeting Luke again. “Well, I’m off to the beach. Going to check out the surf. See what kind of waves are happening.”

  “The surf’s not that way,” I said, but she ignored me.

  Ebony followed the adults inside, while Luke and I watched Rumer walking down the track to the beach. I was impatient to show Luke my latest sea glass finds, but he continued to look at the beach path long after Rumer had disappeared behind the dunes.

  I tugged at Luke’s sleeve. “Do you want–”

  “Wait,” Luke called out to the emptiness that Rumer had left.

  Then he shoved his empty drink can at me and ran after her.

  Luke continued to run after Rumer for the rest of the three weeks we were at Ocean Side. Instead of Luke and me hanging out, it was Luke, Rumer and me. Which meant it was Luke and Rumer, while I tagged along feeling like a third wheel. And that’s when I decided I loved Luke Hart and was going to marry him. Being left out just made me more determined. That scene at the rock pools. The whole smoochy music and windblown hair thing? You remember.

  I wanted to tell Rumer that Luke was mine, but the thing was he didn’t know it. Luke had turned into a complete stranger, as if Rumer had drugged him or something. He followed her around, fetching her drinks, buying her ice-creams, rubbing her back with sunblock – it was just plain embarrassing. Even I knew what was going on. Rumer was bored. Luke was there. She was just going to have some fun before she went back to her real home with Uncle Lawrence and her circumstances.

  I tried to talk to Isabella about it, but she told me it was none of my business. So then I decided to try and warn Luke myself. He was such a nice person. I couldn’t believe that I had somehow brought Luke and Rumer together. But Luke and Rumer were always together, which made telling him tricky. And then when I did get a spare moment with him, I didn’t know what to say.

  “Luke, you look like an idiot running after Rumer” was too harsh.

  “Luke, Rumer’s a cow.” Also harsh.

  One day, as we buried Ebony armpit-deep in sand, Rumer strolled down to the water to wash her hands in the waves, and Luke and I were alone. Alone with Ebony, of course, but she didn’t count.

  “Luke, I need to tell you something,” I said, carefully patting another bucketload of sand into the shape of an aeroplane wing.

  “Uh-huh.” He was concentrating on getting the aeroplane body just right as it fanned out behind Ebony’s body.

  “Luke, Rumer isn’t what you think she is,” I said. I was watching Rumer as she skipped over the waves then bent down to rinse her hands.

  “What are you saying?” He looked up and waved at Rumer who waved back.

  “She has … special circumstances,” I blurted out. I couldn’t believe I had told him. It wasn’t my secret to tell, and now Rumer would make me pay in a way I didn’t even want to consider.

  “What?” he said, looking at me.

  “Her mother is dead,” I said.

  “Wow.” Luke clapped the loose sand from his hands and shook his head. “She never mentioned that.”

  “I just thought you should know,” I said lamely. “You really like Rumer, don’t you?”

  Luke ducked his head and tweaked Ebony’s nose.

  That’s when I knew that it was useless. If Luke asked me to help him win Rumer’s undying love, I would have done anything to help him. As it was, he didn’t need my help.

  “Thanks, Shrimp,” he said. He patted me on the shoulder then he stood up and jogged over to Rumer, who was trying to dodge the waves as they broke on the shore.

  I watched Luke lean towards Rumer, their heads close together. I saw her sharply look my way then hang her head. She looked back at him and yelled, her arms moving about like a squid out of water. He stepped back, surprised, but kept talking to her. I watched her bend forwards and slap him hard across the face. He walked back to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Sorry, Freya,” he said. “I’ve just realised how incredibly beautiful you are. Much more beautiful than Rumer will ever be …”

  Actually, this didn’t happen.

  I watched Luke lean towards Rumer, their heads close together. I saw her sharply look my way then hang her head.

  Luke’s arm looped over her shoulders in a hug. And then they kissed. Which is when I decided I would never love anyone again, because you just felt like an idiot when you put love out there and it didn’t come back your way.

  “I want to get out,” demanded Ebony from her sand trap. “I’m sick of this game.”

  “So am I, Ebs,” I said.

  And I grabbed the spade.

  Life changed after that, and I blame Rumer. But maybe it was always going to change; maybe she’d just hurried things along. Rumer dumped Luke at the end of those summer holidays, like I knew she would. There was an uncomfortable weekend in autumn of that same year when Mum decided to invite Luke to Vinegar House – the same weekend that Rumer happened to be there – but then things settled down.

  I stopped dropping in on the Hart family across the road. I made sure I was busy in my room when they came over for card nights. I made other plans when the Harts came to dinner. If Luke saw me in the street, he’d wave, but I’d look the other way until he got the message. I stopped going down to the jetty at high tide on Saturday mornings. I dodged him at school.

  So I got over my first crush eventually, and I guess I had Rumer to thank for that. I guess she did me a favour.

  And that’s all I’m going to say about Luke Hart.

  Chapter 7

  There was a lot to organise before my parents could
just fly away and leave me to the dullness of Vinegar House. Luckily, the Colonel was onto it. Dad had rung the holiday camp to let the coordinators know what was going on. Oscar was to go to his friend’s house if Mum and Dad weren’t back in time to pick him up. Then Dad left a couple of messages with Isabella on her mobile, because it was still too early for her to be awake. Dad was striding around, busy being the person in charge, so I was trying to stay out of his way. If I came across Mum, I’d give her a hug and she’d pat me on the back as if I were the one with the sick mother.

  At around lunchtime the doorbell rang and I answered it to find Mrs Hart and Luke standing at the door. (I know I wasn’t going to talk about him any more, but he just happens to be in this part of the story.)

  “Can we come in?” Mrs Hart asked brightly before giving me a hug that went on for ten seconds too long.

  Awkward.

  Luke looked taller than I remembered and there was something different about him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He seemed uncomfortable to be there.

  “Mum,” I called out.

  “Ericaaaa,” sang Mrs Hart.

  Mrs Hart is a member of the Homsea Acapella Group and the Port Eden Players – a theatre group. She is very DRAMATIC.

  Mrs Hart sailed past me, gathered Mum into her arms and gave her a long hug. Mum burst into tears, and Luke and I sidled out to the kitchen to leave them to it.

  “Do you want a drink?” I asked him.

  Luke shrugged. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandma, Shrimp.”

  “My Nanna,” I corrected. Shrimp. I hated that nickname and wished he’d never started calling me that. “That’s okay. Thanks.”

  “So what’s going to happen?” he asked. “Mum said your parents are leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “Yep.”

  I filled the kettle with water for something to do.

  “How long’s the flight?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I fussed around, pulling out cups and teaspoons.

  “How’s Isabella?”

  “Yeah, good.”

  “Have you been busy? Haven’t seen you since … I don’t know, for ages.”

  “Yeah. Busy. Really busy.”

  I put instant coffee in the teapot, realised what I’d done, then filled it up with hot water anyway and hoped Luke wouldn’t ask for a cup. I didn’t need this now. I didn’t need Luke Hart with his messy hair and his smooth brown skin and his bobbing Adam’s apple filling up the space in my kitchen.

  “How’s Oscar?” he asked.

  “Yeah, good.” It was ridiculous. I searched my brain for something smart to say. Something mind-blowing that would make him think about me long after he’d finished filling up my kitchen. Not that I cared about him the way I used to. Still, I didn’t want him to think I was still that little kid that used to follow him around.

  “Are you busy?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said nodding. “Really busy.”

  “Oh.” I grabbed the milk carton out of the fridge, then stood looking in a cupboard for a milk jug until I forgot what I was looking for. “How’s Megan?”

  “Good.”

  “And Ebony?”

  “Yeah, good. Great.”

  “Great.” I tried to imagine us on the debating team together at school. No trophies there.

  “I’m looking for a job. School holidays,” he said. “Loz Pinkerton’s brother wants to sell his car. Says he’ll give me first say.”

  “Do you have your Ls?” I asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Oh.” I wondered when that had happened. “What sort of job?”

  Luke shrugged. “I could garden. Mow lawns or something. Wash cars …”

  “Dumfy’s got the lawn service thing all stitched up,” I said. Dumfy was Porky Sudholz’s brother-in-law. “Maybe you could work for Porky – at the butcher’s?”

  “Working with dead things?” Luke shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  There was silence as we both contemplated my sick Nanna who could be dead even as we spoke.

  “I wished you’d called me earlier,” said Mrs Hart as she and Mum bustled into the kitchen.

  Mum gave Luke a hug. He had to bend down to hug her back.

  “I was just saying to your mother, Freya, that you could have stayed with us,” Mrs Hart rattled on. “Although there’s not a lot of room at present, not with my sister and her family staying.”

  Luke snorted and brushed past me on his way to the tap. Making himself at home, I thought, but of course this had been his second home for years. I wondered if the snort was the thought of me staying or the fact that his aunt and family had taken over his home.

  “Is that a fresh pot?” Mum asked.

  “Umm, no. I’ll make one,” I said, turning away from Luke’s surprised expression. I emptied the coffee, rinsed the teapot, and put the kettle on again.

  “Anyway, I think it’s lovely you’ve got the chance to stay with your cousin at your grandma’s house,” said Mrs Hart.

  “Hmm.” I hoped Luke wasn’t listening.

  “Which one is it again? Julia?”

  “Rumer,” corrected Mum. “They’re very close.”

  I wondered if she meant Julia and Rumer were very close. I felt Luke watching me.

  “Oh, that’s right. Wasn’t she the one who came to Ocean Side with you? You remember Rumer, don’t you Luke?” Mrs Hart asked pointedly.

  Luke scowled.

  “She was such a pretty girl. Nothing like her cousins at all,” she said.

  Luke snorted.

  “Not that you’re not pretty, Freya,” Mrs Hart continued quickly, looking at me. “You have such nice … eyelashes.”

  Luke snorted again.

  “Two summers ago,” said Mum, absently.

  “Was it that long ago?” Mrs Hart sighed. “We must have you over for dinner when you come back, Erica. Life just has a way of getting away from you.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Mum agreed. Then the tears began to leak down her cheeks again, and Mrs Hart pressed some tissues into her hand.

  I filled the tea orders, then said, “I need to pack.”

  To be perfectly honest, I’d been packed for hours, but I just needed a quiet space with no crying or penetrating stares.

  “Wait, how are you getting to Florence’s house?” Mrs Hart asked.

  It took me a moment to realise she was talking about my grandmother.

  “Dad?” I said. We hadn’t really talked about it.

  “Nonsense,” said Mrs Hart. “Your father doesn’t have time for that. I’ll drive you.”

  “No, it’s too far,” said Mum in a voice that meant yes.

  “I insist,” said Mrs Hart. “It’s such a lovely drive. There’s a darling little antique shop on the way. I wonder if it’s open today? Anyway, Erica, it’s one less thing you have to do. Really. It’s fine. And of course we’ll feed the dog for you.”

  I left them to their plans and didn’t bother looking up when Luke said goodbye.

  In the study I took a chance and logged on to Facebook. There were a few people online. People were taking sides about what had happened at the party the week before. Everyone thought they knew the real story and didn’t bother to ask me. Somebody called me a name I don’t want to repeat here. I wanted to die. I wanted to melt down into my computer chair until I was just a puddle of shame.

  As I turned off the computer, I realised I’d be without the internet while I was at Vinegar House. And I was glad.

  Chapter 8

  Mrs Hart picked me up at two that afternoon. Mum promised to ring Grandma and explain that I would need to keep my mobile with me so that I could contact them overseas. She was counting on the fact that Grandma wouldn’t want to pay for international calls. So was I. Mum seemed to forget that I needed some kind of computer to work on if I was to get my homework done, but Dad was taking the laptop, and I couldn’t see myself lugging the home computer to Vinegar House. I was going to have to hand write my h
omework. Still, if I didn’t get all my homework done by next term, I’d have a good excuse.

  When Mrs Hart bip-bipped her car horn, I dragged my luggage out to the car to find Luke was coming along for the ride.

  “Help Freya,” said Mrs Hart, crossly, and Luke unfolded himself from the front passenger seat. He grabbed my bags and threw them into the boot as if they were filled with marshmallows instead of half my wardrobe.

  I think he was just showing off.

  I didn’t understand why Luke was coming along. I’m sure the idea of more than an hour’s drive one-way, with the possibility of antique shopping would make anyone stay home. Obviously his mother had made him come along. I wondered how she’d bribed him.

  I hugged my parents one last time, and Dad slipped me some money, though I didn’t know where I’d spend it.

  “Just in case you go to town,” he said, lamely.

  I was so busy settling into the back seat that I barely noticed their “take care” and “help your grandmother”. By the time I popped an earbud into one ear, Mrs Hart was taking off at her usual breakneck speed, and I was scrabbling to get my seatbelt on. As I clicked it into place, I looked through the car’s rear window for a final wave, and it felt like someone had invaded my chest and squeezed all the juice out of my heart until it was a tiny dry sponge. My parents looked so sad standing together – my mother leaning into my father’s side – that I couldn’t bear to watch them waving me goodbye.

  I spent the next twenty minutes trying not to look at Luke’s profile in the front seat, while Mrs Hart prattled on like an infomercial on late-night TV. In the end I pretended to sleep and Luke turned on some music. Then I really did fall asleep until I realised we’d stopped, and there was sleep dribble on my shoulder. We were parked outside a shop declaring it had Antiques and Collectables, but Luke was still sitting in the front passenger seat and he was smirking at me.

  “What?” I wanted to smooth my hair, which felt messed up, but wouldn’t do it while he was watching me. I didn’t want him to think I cared about how I looked to him.

  “You snore, Shrimp,” he said.

  “I do not,” I said, crossly. There was a bad taste in my mouth like I had swallowed a glue stick. “And stop calling me that.”