I couldn’t concentrate. School that day was like wading through cotton wool. All the missed sleep was catching up with me, I guessed. Loretta sat next to me in most of my classes and repeatedly nudged me to stay awake. I wrote Pearl over and over again. I kept brooding about Dad and Biddy. How Biddy wouldn’t stop nosing and Dad wasn’t interested. I sort of wished it was the other way around. I wished Dad would talk to me.
‘Movie night at mine tonight?’ Loretta whispered as we settled in for chemistry, taking my pen off me to stop me writing Pearl.
‘If I can keep my eyes open.’
‘We’ll watch something with lots of explosions. Or something scary. We can invite Gordon! He always shrieks at the scary bits. That’ll keep you awake.’
‘It’ll have to be a bit later on,’ I said. ‘Ben and I are going for a run.’
‘A date!’ Loretta hissed.
‘No, not a date.’
‘Next party we have at yours should be a movie night,’ Ruby May to Amber said at the next table. Ruby May and I had been tight when I was little, but then her mum said she couldn’t come over and play anymore. It was just after Gran had died and Mum was going through a phase when she was super energetic. At the time, I’d just figured that Ruby May’s mum was worried Ruby would like my mum more than her. I knew better, now.
‘Well, I dunno,’ said Amber, not looking at Loretta or me. ‘Movie nights are kind of lame.’
‘Totally lame,’ said Nina, who’d had her hair highlighted just like Amber’s, except the only hairdresser under sixty in Clunes was this eighteen-year-old who just watched a lot of YouTube videos. Nina’s hair was kind of frayed. I guessed from leaving the bleach in for too long. I squinted at Ruby. Her hair was kind of frayed, too.
***
‘It’s a date,’ Loretta hissed at me for the fiftieth time as I headed off home and she headed off to the shops to stock up on junk food for our movie night. Except Loretta’s idea of junk food was cheese and crackers. She’d roped Gordon into coming, although he was offended that she was only inviting him on account of his shrieking.
‘It’s not a freaking date!’ I yelled over my shoulder. Loretta did a few steps of a very rude dance and I walked straight into Ben, who was standing on the footpath near the corner of our street.
‘Ugh! Sorry!’ he said, putting an arm out to steady me and accidentally grabbing my boob. He jumped backwards like he’d just been electrocuted and we stood in awkward silence, not looking at each other.
‘That was a total accident. I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ I felt kind of dizzy. ‘Let’s just go, hey?’
***
We ran away from Wade’s Point and Songbrooke. We ran past the pier where Martin always stopped the police car and past the café that had a new pane of glass and looked the same as it ever had. We ran past Glen’s shop and Evie’s favourite garden, which was filled with the little statues of animals. We ran along Clunes Beach, which was less wild than ours. The waves were large here, but they were safer than the waves at our beach. Tyrone said they were good surfing waves. It was where all the locals tended to surf, but I’d never seen him or his surfboard down this part of the coast.
We ran and ran and when we stopped the world tilted and I had to sit down on the wet sand until everything steadied again.
‘Victoria,’ I said. ‘That’s where you’re from.’
Ben sat down next to me and cocked his head. ‘Victoria?’
‘Victoria’s a prime garlic-growing region.’
‘Ah, but New South Wales is good, too.’ He frowned. ‘Did you google garlic growing?’
‘Tasmania’s okay, but it’s a bit too cold.’
‘Hmm,’ he said.
‘Queensland’s too humid.’
‘Depends what variety,’ he said, amused.
‘I don’t think you’re from Queensland,’ I said.
‘Oh?’
‘You and Amber are too used to the cold.’
Ben smiled at me. ‘Maybe I’m from Western Australia.’
I shook my head. ‘Nope.’
‘Northern Territory?’
‘No way – you’d be wearing fifty layers of clothes to keep warm if you were from up there.’ I prodded his arm. ‘See? Skin.’
He just smiled. We sat for a little while, watching the waves.
‘Your brother and mum drowned, didn’t they?’ he asked, very quietly. ‘That’s why the kid drowning at Wade’s Point threw you so much.’
‘Not my mum,’ I said. ‘But yeah. My little brother . . . he drowned.’
Ben took a moment before he spoke. ‘What was his name?’
‘Jamie.’
‘Jamie. I’m really sorry I upset you with all that,’ he said. ‘I was stupid.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ I shook my head. ‘Anyway, it’s more that the cove always felt like my place, you know? My dad wanted us to live closer to the water, but Mum wanted the place on Lockbank Street. She was always worried about us getting caught in a rip, or whatever. So, when we moved to the beach house, I started running there. And it was just mine, you know? Our house was always so crowded. Particularly when Evie was tiny and screaming and needing nappy changes.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘I know what it’s like,’ he said. ‘Feeling like home’s too full. I mean, it’s only been the four of us, but I know that feeling.’
‘Because of Amber?’ I asked.
He rested his chin on his knee. ‘Yeah. Because of Amber.’
***
‘Total date,’ Loretta said, stuffing a fistful of rice crackers into her mouth and shutting her eyes in bliss.
‘He nearly died from embarrassment. I don’t think that counts as a date,’ I said. I hadn’t given her details of what we’d spoken about, sitting on the beach.
‘Sure it does,’ Loretta handed me the bag of crackers and I stuffed a handful into my mouth.
We were at Loretta’s because Evie would want to stay up late with us and Biddy always ended up getting annoyed. But Loretta didn’t have an Evie and she’d never had a Jamie. It was just her and her parents, who although were strict about lots of things, didn’t mind us staying up late, even on a school night. And they both loved Gordon.
‘Gordon?’ I said. ‘It wasn’t a date, was it?’
Gordon shrugged.
‘See?’ I pointed at him. ‘He doesn’t think it’s a date, either!’
‘It was a date,’ Loretta snapped.
‘Leave her alone, Rets,’ said Gordon. ‘You’re a menace.’
‘Listen to Gordon.’ I stretched and yawned.
‘You look tired,’ Loretta said. ‘I’m tired too. The amount of specialist maths homework I’m getting is insane.’
‘Boohoo,’ said Gordon.
Loretta squeezed my hand. ‘We’ll be right,’ she said.
Gordon glanced up and then quickly down. I saw him sketching the ocean. And a figure who looked like Loretta.
CHAPTER TEN
Fridays were my only day with no Ben lessons. Which was kind of a relief. Loretta and I jogged slowly around the block before school started, Loretta swearing and sweating and complaining about the cold and how much she hated Mr Hounds.
As we rounded the corner to start the final lap, Loretta slipped and ended up on the ground.
‘Ow,’ she said as I tried to hoist her up.
‘I think she’s done something to her ankle,’ I told Mr Hounds.
‘One more lap,’ he said.
‘She’s injured!’ I snapped.
Ruby May wandered towards the school gates and stopped to watch, pulling her earphones out of her ears.
‘She rolled it,’ I said. ‘I saw it.’
‘She needs to do one more lap.’
Ruby May came over. ‘Mr Hounds – not even Loretta could fake looking like that. She’s hurt herself.’
‘Get to home room,’ he barked at Ruby May.
‘S
he can’t run,’ I insisted.
‘Then she fails,’ he said.
‘You can’t do that!’
He just stared at me.
‘I’ll tell Ms Lovetts!’ I said.
He just snorted and walked off. I sat down next to Loretta. ‘What a jerk,’ I said.
‘Stupid ankle,’ Loretta moaned, letting me help her up. ‘Stupid Mr Hounds.’
‘Should we tell Ms Lovetts?’ I asked.
‘No,’ said Loretta, hobbling along next to me. ‘I’m going to do this on my own.’
***
I periodically had moments of blind panic about subjects and courses. If I picked the wrong ones, I kept filing through all the things I might like to do, but everything felt blurry. Like it was stuck in the shadow of Mum and Jamie and the cove.
I liked art, but wasn’t sure I’d do it next year. I was in class with Gordon, which was kind of like being in class with no one because he spent the entire time feverishly painting or drawing and communicated only in grunts.
I was painting mermaids.
I tended to paint a woman mermaid and a little boy. And I’d nearly finished this painting when Amber stumbled as she walked past and tipped a container of water all over it.
She looked shocked. ‘Sorry,’ she said. I couldn’t tell if she’d done it on purpose or not. ‘Sorry,’ she said again, reaching over to try to mop it up.
‘What the hell?’ Gordon snapped, shoving us both aside to try and dry it off, but I could tell it was ruined. The art teacher hadn’t seen what had happened.
Gordon looked devastated. ‘Most of your art’s pretty bad, but that was actually really good!’
‘You’re not making me feel better, Gordon.’
For the rest of the day, I drifted along, half asleep. I tried to take notes so I looked busy and then staggered out of the gates at three o’clock, blinking and wondering where the day had gone.
***
I woke up early after a fractured night’s sleep and stared out the window, trying to breathe in time with the sea. I must’ve dozed, because when I woke up again, the sun was streaming in through my window and I could hear Dad and Tyrone heading off somewhere and Biddy turning on some cartoons for Evie in the living room.
It was starting to rain by the time I got to the beach. Fat, slow drops. I lifted my face up towards the steely sky, wondering at how quickly the sun had disappeared.
I heard a strange noise and glanced around. A horse galloped past me, shying when I jumped. It was a chestnut horse. Elsa and her grey horse came galloping up behind it.
The chestnut horse pranced over, only to duck away before I could touch it. It ran towards the water and snorted at the waves, then trotted over to the grey horse, snuggled up to it, and sighed.
‘Stupid horse,’ Elsa growled, jumping out of her saddle and throwing a halter over the chestnut mount’s head. ‘Stupid, stupid horse!’
‘Do you need some help?’ I asked. I was kind of torn. On the one hand, she was mysterious and cool and Ben’s aunty and I was dying to talk to her. On the other hand, she was Amber’s aunty, too. Gross.
Elsa shook her head. ‘Sorry he nearly collected you. A garbage truck pulled up too close to his paddock and he freaked out, jumped the fence, and here we are.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m Elsa.’
‘Um, I know. I’m um, Gwen. I’ve seen you riding. You know . . . um. Along the beach.’ I shuffled my foot in the sand. ‘I go to school with Ben and Amber.’
She smiled at me. ‘Gwendolyn? Ben’s mentioned you. Well, thanks for trying to catch him. Think I’m going to have to hobble the naughty thing.’ She tugged at his halter, but he snorted and pranced backwards.
‘I can walk one,’ I said, feeling suddenly uplifted. Ben had told Elsa about me? I was itching to text Loretta.
‘That’d be great, actually. Thanks.’ Elsa was looking at me with her head slightly tilted.
She handed me the reins of the grey horse, who sighed and started plodding along next to me. The chestnut one kept prancing and cavorting. Elsa grumbled at it as we walked.
I talked as we wandered along. I told her about Tyrone and Evie and Biddy, strategically leaving out the bit about Tyrone being the drunk guy who had ended up clinging to her horse’s back on the night of the party. I told her about the man who’d smashed open the windows at the café and she nodded and said, ‘Oh, yes. I know all about that.’ I told her about the cove and she grimaced and muttered, ‘Unhappy place,’ like she knew all about that, too.
‘Biddy’s your stepmother, right?’ she asked. ‘I’ve run into her a few times. She’s lovely.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, kinda mad that Biddy had made sure Elsa knew I wasn’t her daughter.
‘Have you lived here for long?’ Elsa asked.
‘Forever.’ I fiddled with my cuff. I wondered if I could send Loretta a sneaky text without being noticed, but didn’t think I’d be able to while I was leading the big grey horse. My mum would’ve loved him.
We cut up onto a dirt road before the cove and cut inland. There was no way out of the other side of the cove. No way I’d ever found anyway. The gumtrees were scraggly and the ground rocky. I stopped talking, instead paying attention to where my feet were going. Elsa stopped the chestnut outside a weathered, unreadable wooden sign that I knew had once read Songbrooke.
‘This is it. They go in here,’ she said, opening one of the paddock gates. She pulled a rug onto the grey horse and we let them both go. ‘Menace,’ she muttered again.
‘It’s a nice place,’ I said.
‘Yeah – it’s not bad. We moved here from Bendigo, the property was bigger back there, but this place is a lot more functional.’ She grimaced. ‘Well, it will be.’
I glanced back out into the yard.
‘Come on in, I’ll make you a drink.’
I baulked, imagining Amber’s face if she found me chatting away to her aunt, but then I remembered she was going to watch YouTube clips of surf competitions with Nina and Ruby May and the others tonight. I was safe. And I really wanted to go in – mostly to brag to Gordon about seeing it in the daylight and, more embarrassingly, to have a good look at where Ben lived. ‘Um . . . thanks. That’d be great.’ I followed her across the yard.
‘This must’ve been really busy in its day,’ I said, kicking off my muddy shoes at the doorway of the main house, which was made of stone and a lot more solid looking than the other buildings.
‘Yeah, from what I’ve heard it was absolutely insane most of the time,’ said Elsa. ‘Feels like a ghost town, now.’
‘But not for long?’
Elsa smiled. ‘Yeah, hopefully not for long.’
‘Amber was saying you’re going to put in tennis courts and an underground cinema,’ I said.
Elsa snorted and shook her head. ‘She would say that.’
‘So you’re not?’
‘We’re hoping to open it up as a rustic artists’ retreat.’ She grinned. ‘Much to Amber’s disgust.’
Inside, it smelled like eucalyptus and garlic. The furniture all looked heavy and expensive.
‘Sit down,’ she said, pointing at the island bench. She busied herself putting things into a blender, I glanced around her house. So many beautiful paintings.
‘These are great,’ I said.
‘Hmm. Yes, I’ve always had a thing for Songbrooke,’ she said, turning on the blender. ‘These are all pieces that were painted by artists here.’
I could see the coastline in the paintings. The colours of the sky and sand and trees. There was a small photo of Elsa and a dark-haired woman.
‘That’s my wife, Grace. We owned a vineyard at Bendigo,’ Elsa said, watching me gazing at the photo. ‘She grew up on the coast and was missing it, so when Songbrooke came up for sale, it felt like a no-brainer. That’s the vineyard in the background of the picture. I miss it. Well, the wine mostly.’ She smiled. ‘We’ve started our own little section of grape vines out around the back. So far, they’re being surly little things,
don’t think they like the climate all that much. Ben’s been fiddling around with them a lot. I think he’s out there right now. Tea? Coffee?’
‘Coffee, please.’ I fiddled with the sleeve of my jumper. ‘So, Ben likes the vines and stuff?’
‘He’s into anything that distracts him,’ she said. ‘He’s always reading or running or working away at something outside. It exhausts me, to tell you the truth.’
I wanted to ask what Ben needed distracting from. I would have hated him asking Biddy that, though. ‘And then Amber and Ben came to stay?’ I asked instead.
‘And then Amber and Ben came to stay,’ she repeated, smiling. ‘We’re so excited about opening this place up. We’ll convert the buildings into accommodation. It’ll be fairly small scale. We want to focus on getting artists into the local area. It’s quite famous, this coast. There were quite a few painters who lived here in its heyday.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Wish I knew more about this place. It’s kinda embarrassing, how little I know. When I live so close.’
She shrugged. ‘Why would you? I didn’t know about anything like that at your age.’
‘I guess,’ I said, but I had this uncomfortable feeling that I should’ve known. That if I was the girl my mum thought I was, destined for great things, I would’ve known all about the history of the commune. The fact that this coast had had a heyday.
Across the table were half-sorted piles of shells, sea glass and driftwood. I touched a bird’s feather. ‘Is that what you do on the beach? Collect this stuff?’
‘Sure is.’
‘Why?’
‘Why do I collect it? I’m an artist. Installations, mostly.’ She got up and nodded at me to follow her. The next room was set up as a studio, with tubs of carefully sorted things from the beach scattered around on tables and shelves.
She was weaving everything into a sort of tapestry strung up against the wall on a massive loom. It was chunky with seaweed and tiny pebbles and flecks of driftwood sewn on like buttons.
‘This is amazing!’ I said.
She smiled. ‘Thank you. I’ve got a show in Sydney at the end of the year. I really need to finish it but can’t seem to get my butt into gear.’
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