It wasn’t that the town was super cold. It was more to do with the wind. It had to do with the sea mists and the clear, freezing nights. We weren’t high enough for snow; although Loretta had been dreaming of it happening since she was tiny. She still got cross each winter when snow never came.
Songbrooke had been empty for years and years. It wasn’t strictly a house. It was a farm that had a whole stack of vacant cottages and shacks. Biddy always talked about how it used to be an artist commune. And then that woman moved in with her horses. And now the new kids had also moved in. Tyrone sometimes talked to her and said she was really nice, but I always felt too shy.
‘Songbrooke!’ Gordon hissed in my ear. ‘What do you know about it?’
‘Not much,’ I said. ‘This was a bit of a quirky kind of area before the tourism stuff took off. It’s been abandoned for years. How’ve you heard of it?’
‘It’s only like the second most famous artists’ commune in the country!’ Gordon said, his voice cracking. ‘I want to say hi!’
‘Don’t you dare,’ I warned. I glanced at Tyrone. ‘If Gord looks like he’s gunna blow our cover, get him in a headlock, would you?’
Tyrone nodded. ‘Done.’
We snuck along the driveway and peeked at the house through thick paperbarks.
‘Townies,’ Tyrone said in disgust. He thought everyone was a townie. Loretta had once demanded to know what townie even meant and he’d just gone kind of red and cranky. ‘Someone from the city,’ he’d said, crossing his arms.
‘They’re not townies! Townies don’t enrol in the school,’ I said, grabbing hold of Gordon’s sleeve to stop him wandering any closer.
Tyrone grunted. ‘Whatever. I’ve gotta go,’ he said, but didn’t make a move to leave.
‘Neighbours,’ Evie said. ‘Finally, we’ll have some real neighbours, Gwen!’
Evie had a thing about neighbours.
‘What about me?’ Gordon demanded, looking wounded.
‘You don’t count,’ Evie said. She’d been excited when Gordon had moved in, but lost interest when she couldn’t convince him to be her date to her year-two graduation. He’d been in Sydney having some sort of medical check-up at the time, but Evie hadn’t felt as though that was a valid enough excuse.
The new kids came out of the house and Evie and Gordon both made eager squeaking noises. A fit-looking dark-haired girl who I could tell would immediately join the surfer girls and a boy with brown hair. Who was, as Angela had said, both tall and handsome.
‘He’s like a movie star,’ said Evie, sticking her head through the fence.
We inched further along. Evie stood on a branch, snapping it in two, and the boy glanced up. He looked right at me through the trees. I thought he’d point us out to the girl, or – even worse – call out for the woman they’d moved in with, but he just sort of half-smiled and went back to unpacking a car.
‘The reception out here is crap,’ the girl said, prodding at her mobile phone. ‘How am I supposed to stay in touch with Milly and the rest of them?’
‘That’s the point of being here,’ he said. ‘Remember?’
‘I didn’t realise I’d have no reception.’
‘So? Write some letters,’ the boy said, very cheerfully.
‘You’re such a pain.’
‘You asked.’
The girl sighed and tucked her phone away. She crossed her arms over her chest and peered towards the ocean. ‘It’s so . . . wild out here. And did you see the town? It’s tiny. It’s even smaller than home.’
‘I like it,’ the boy said, looking around. At the paperbarks and pine trees, at the tiny bit of beach that could be made out over the cliffs. ‘It’s beautiful.’
The girl just stared at him very sullenly for a moment. ‘Thanks for coming with me,’ she said finally. I had to strain forward to catch the words. ‘You didn’t have to.’
‘Of course I did!’ he said. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.’
I clasped my chest. ‘He thinks Clunes is beautiful! My heart!’ I squeaked to Gordon, who dragged me back towards the road. Evie and Tyrone followed.
‘That girl is hot,’ Tyrone said.
Evie smacked him. ‘You can’t go out with her if I’m going to marry the guy,’ she said, her voice very practical.
‘They’ll both be wankers,’ Gordon said darkly. ‘You’ll see.’
***
FROM THE DIARY OF GWENDOLYN P. PEARSON
I think a lot about our house. We live by the beach in a ramshackle wooden house that Dad and Biddy are slowly doing up. They loved the house, even when it was in ruins, with possums crawling through the walls and the roof leaking heavy puddles onto the floor when it rained. But I guess even back then it was a pretty place – all wooden shingles and a wide verandah. It’s nestled along a quiet, narrow road that runs parallel to the shoreline. It’s close to a few tourist hot spots, but the beach itself is wild, even when the weather’s calm. It’s not a beach for swimming or even surfing; it’s a beach for watching and walking. Or listening. That’s what Biddy always says anyway. And like most things where Biddy’s concerned, I can’t decide if I agree or whether it makes me mad. Tyrone ignores her. He surfs there all year round.
There are trees along our salty road. Evie likes to climb them and Biddy always laughs. ‘Make sure you fall on your head, E! Nothing in there to damage!’
Evie hangs upside down and lets her hands go. ‘Look! No hands, Mum! Mum! Are you looking? No hands, Mum! Mum!’
Biddy always smiles, but if you’re standing close enough, you can always see the worry creases around her eyes.
***
‘What are the neighbours like?’ Biddy asked us when Evie and I got home. Gordon had gone to his house and Tyrone had taken off somewhere in his car.
‘What neighbours?’ I babbled, embarrassed to be caught snooping.
‘The Songbrooke ones,’ Biddy said impatiently. Evie plonked herself down at the island bench and grinned. ‘I’m going to marry the boy,’ she said. ‘When I’m older, obviously.’
Biddy raised her eyebrows. ‘Pretty?’
‘Kinda pretty,’ I said. ‘He thinks the town’s beautiful.’
‘Well, that’s nice to hear! It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. What else did you talk about? Where’d they come from?’ Biddy asked. ‘I heard Sydney, but that was from a kid at school who wouldn’t stop picking his nose.’
‘Ew,’ said Evie.
I shuffled in my seat. ‘We didn’t talk to them. Exactly.’
‘You just stalked them?’
‘Kind of.’
‘From the bushes?’
‘We didn’t want to intrude.’
Biddy rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. ‘What did Loretta think?’
‘Oh, she went home in a huff straight after school. She headbutted a landing mat in PE and was still super cranky about it.’ I fiddled with a loose bit of nail. ‘It’s nice having new people around,’ I said.
***
It rained a lot that night. Tyrone came home late and started playing noisy videogames in his room. I stared up at the rain speckling my window and wondered what it was like down the road at Songbrooke. Whether it was warm and cosy or cold and damp. Whether they could hear the wild ocean from their beds, or whether the wind muffled it out.
I heard the phone ringing, on and off, over the sound of building wind. Glen checking to see if we were flooded out by the rain. It had happened a lot, when we first moved here. The roof giving way and leaking in different rooms until Biddy and Dad had saved up enough to get it all redone.
And then I heard the sound of Tori calling to see if our power was still on and then Chris, Gordon’s mum, popping in to put things in our fridge because her power had gone off.
The strange storm murmurings of our little seaside house late at night.
‘Psst!’ Evie called, pushing open the door.
I glanced at her. She was wearing one of Tyrone�
��s huge t-shirts and a pair of rainbow leggings. ‘Go to bed, Evie. It’s late.’
She ignored me.
‘Evie! I’ll tell Biddy.’
Evie looked wounded. She curled up at the base of my bed. ‘Wonder what it’s like at Songbrooke,’ she said. ‘That house looked pretty old. You reckon it leaks?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I hope it doesn’t leak.’ She pulled her blanket over her. ‘I hope they’re cosy.’
I kicked her off my feet, but she didn’t budge from the bed.
‘Night, Gwen,’ she said.
I relented and gave her a pat with my foot. ‘Night, Evie.’
CHAPTER TWO
I walked to Loretta’s the next morning, munching on a piece of Vegemite toast, with a scarf pulled tightly around my neck. When I got there, Loretta wouldn’t stop grumbling about extracurricular sport, which Mr Hounds was making her do on account of her not being able to properly do any of the activities in class. The weather had eased off, but there were still lots of branches and strips of bark everywhere on the footpath and deep puddles where the roads dipped.
‘It’s inhumane! Why should I have to do early-morning runs?’ She pulled shut her front door and sighed. She was wearing a pair of striped stockings under her shorts.
‘I wouldn’t mind.’
‘Yeah, but you’re a freak! No normal teenager wants to go running this early. I want to be in bed, stalking people on Facebook. This is horrendous, Gwendolyn.’
I shrugged. ‘How’re the shoulder and the head?’
‘Not sore enough to get me out of this run,’ Loretta complained. We started walking towards school, our breath a foggy mess in the cold.
‘So, Songbrooke,’ I said.
‘Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys spent yesterday spying on the neighbours.’
‘We didn’t spy!’
‘Did they know you were there?’
I thought of the new guy catching my eye and smiling. ‘On some level.’
‘Well, that’s spying,’ Loretta insisted. ‘So?’
‘So what?’
‘Give me the details!’
‘Not much to tell. Two teenagers, as reported.’
‘He’s hot, isn’t he?’
‘Yeah, but not in an over-the-top way.’ I frowned. ‘It’s more how he moves and talks and stuff. Does that sound weird? He said the coast is beautiful.’
Loretta wasn’t listening to me. ‘Which means he’ll get immediately nabbed by the surfer girls.’
‘How do you know? He might hate surfing!’
‘It’s hard to dream about a guy with Ruby May latched onto his arm.’ Loretta shuddered. ‘Remember when they filled my locker with wet toilet paper?’
‘Only because you’d told Ruby May she looked like a sausage in that dress she wore to the social.’
‘So?’
‘What would you do if someone said I looked like a sausage?’
Loretta considered this for a moment. ‘Probably fill up their locker with toilet paper.’
‘See?’
‘Shut up.’
Mr Hounds was waiting outside the school and Loretta made a noise somewhere between a groan and a retch when she saw him.
‘I injured my shoulder,’ she said. ‘My head still hurts.’
He crossed his arms. ‘Lucky you run with your feet. Let’s go.’
Loretta just stared at him. ‘I hate running. My locker’s full of turnips.’
‘That’s a shame. Ten laps before the warning bell or you’ll be late to home room.’
Pulling the ugliest face I’d ever seen her pull, Loretta started off at a jog. I jogged along next to her, listening to her puffing and swearing as we went around and around the school block.
***
At lunch, Loretta and I sat by the paperbark on the beach side of the school. You could see the water from the upper storeys of the place, but not from the ground. You could always smell it, though. And from this side of the yard you could hear it, too.
Loretta had been in a foul mood since her forced morning run, but she suddenly perked up a bit, setting aside her yoghurt.
‘The new kids,’ she said and we both craned our necks. I could see the boy and girl we’d spotted at Songbrooke.
Tony Marks wandered by and Loretta latched onto his sleeve, which nearly sent him toppling over. ‘Hey! Know anything about the new kids?’
Tony tugged his sleeve free. ‘Ben and Amber. They’re from Sydney.’ He nodded impressively. Sydney was like New York to us. We couldn’t really fathom such a bustling metropolis.
‘Where in Sydney?’ Loretta demanded.
‘Loretta, shush,’ I said. ‘Seriously? Sydney?’
‘That’s what Amber keeps telling everyone.’ Tony shrugged. ‘Do you know where they’re living?’
‘That old place near Gwen’s. Songbrooke.’
Tony blinked. ‘What’s Songbrooke?’
‘Used to be an artists’ commune,’ I said.
‘Oh. What’s it like? Got a pool or something?’
‘We’ve never really been there,’ I said. Which wasn’t strictly true. Apart from our stalking, Loretta, Tyrone and I had snuck down there a few times on our bikes when we were younger and poked around the collection of sheds and cabins, hitting sticks against the ground and walls to warn snakes that might have been hiding in the long, scraggly grass.
‘Where in Sydney?’ Loretta asked again, her voice slightly shriller.
Tony slowly backed away and disappeared towards the oval, where a footy game was going on. Loretta stood up.
‘Where are you going?’ I asked, feeling suddenly tired. Sometimes, it was pretty exhausting trying to keep up with Loretta.
‘They’re from Sydney! They live at Songbrooke!’ She closed her eyes. ‘And the guy said the place is beautiful.’
‘You were listening.’
‘I always listen!’
‘So?’
‘So? We have to make friends with them!’ Loretta pulled me up after her. ‘We just have to.’ Loretta dragged me over to where the two new kids were by the canteen, Ben staring at the chalked-up price list outside the serving window and Amber sitting down on one of the benches.
‘What do you want?’ Ben asked.
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘C’mon! Salad sandwich?’
‘Don’t bother. All they sell is lumpy pumpkin soup and Ovalteenies,’ I said.
Ben turned around and smiled. Up close, he had a little scattering of freckles over his nose that I immediately wanted to reach out and touch. I dug my nails into my palms.
‘See?’ said Amber. ‘I’m not hungry anyway. I’m going up to the computer labs.’
Ben glanced at her. ‘Why?’
‘I have homework, Benjamin.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘See ya,’ she said to Loretta and me.
Ben watched his sister run up the stairs towards the computer lab and then shook his head. ‘Sorry. I’m Ben.’
‘I’m . . .’ Who was I? I stared at his hand. The hand of the boy who thought the coast was beautiful. Something starting with G . . . I had completely lost my mind. I glanced helplessly at Loretta.
‘This is Gwen, I’m Loretta,’ Loretta said, elbowing me in the ribs.
He frowned at me and I felt my heart rate pick up.
‘You look kind of familiar,’ he said at last, raising an eyebrow. It used to happen a lot, but these days it was relatively rare. My mum’s photos and things were still occasionally circulated. Sometimes strangers recognised me. I looked a lot like her. Everybody said so.
‘She was on Saturday Night Live once, playing the harmonica,’ Loretta said, completely deadpan. She and Ben stared at each other for a moment and then Ben burst out laughing.
‘You’re hilarious,’ I muttered.
‘You guys lived here long?’ he asked.
‘Our whole lives,’ Loretta said, her voice very flat. ‘It doesn’t get any more exciting. This is it. Peak excitement. How’s Songbrooke? At l
east that place has got a bit of sass. I live in a boring old town house.’
Ben grinned. ‘I love it. I love working outside and running, and I’ve always wanted to live near the beach.’
‘What about Sydney?’ Loretta asked. ‘Isn’t that, like, all harbour?’
Ben flushed. ‘Um. We lived in the western suburbs.’
‘Whereabouts?’ Loretta asked. ‘My aunt’s from Redfern.’ She glanced at me, clearly impressed with herself for sounding so cosmopolitan.
‘Right, cool place,’ Ben said. He was craning his neck towards the computer labs. ‘Sorry – I’d better go see how Amber’s doing.’
Loretta tugged on his sleeve. ‘Did you just say you like running?’
‘Yeah.’
Loretta sighed. ‘Such a shame. Well, if you need someone to run with, Gwen’s insanely into it. She can show you all the good tracks and stuff.’
I shot Loretta a death glare, but Ben looked pleased. ‘Oh, that’d be great! I tried to run into town, but there’s that bit of beach with all the rocks, and when I tried to cut onto the road, I got completely lost.’
‘Amateur,’ Loretta said. ‘Gwen’ll have you dodging and darting around all the tracks in no time.’
‘I’d really like that. Um, I’ll see you later,’ Ben said, jogging off towards the computer labs.
Loretta dragged me away.
‘Why’d you have to say the thing about the harmonica?’ I moaned.
‘Better than him realising it was you who was stalking him yesterday,’ she said, as we neared our little paperbark. ‘I think he might like you,’ she added.
I snorted. Loretta had been fabricating the adoration of various boys for one or both of us since year six. Some of them had actually liked Loretta, but no one had ever been interested in me. Not really. I had the feeling that when most of the boys at school looked at me, they only saw my story. Loretta squeezed my arm. ‘I’d bet a hundred bucks.’
‘You’re on,’ I said. I could do with a hundred bucks.
***
FROM THE DIARY OF GWENDOLYN P. PEARSON
When I first started running along the beach to Wade’s Point, it felt like ages away, although it actually wasn’t really that far. I’d have a pounding headache by the time I got back home, but I never stopped running. I was ten then. Dad thought I was too young to be running alone, but I told him it was the only way I could sleep and so he let me. I guess he knew what it felt like to be awake at night. It was also one of the only things he and Biddy argued about. Late at night, back when Tyrone and I had to share the only bedroom with a non-leaking roof, we’d hear them fighting in hushed voices.
P is for Pearl Page 3