by Lilly Mirren
A cyclist sailed along the footpath beyond the beach, passing two women walking, arms pumping in time, heads bent together. He loved being home. There was nowhere else like it in the world.
As much as he enjoyed his work as an engineer—crafting, designing, and bringing projects together was satisfying work—he was excited about what they were planning for the Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast. It was an opportunity to build something solid with his hands, rather than only using his head. A chance to see a dream come to reality and to build an investment for himself and his future family.
He thought about that sometimes — the family he didn’t yet have. He wondered if he’d ever have them and hoped that he would. His personality had him planning for a future he wasn’t certain of since he loved to be prepared. Still, the work itself was fun to him — he’d catch one more wave then head back to the Manor to do some painting. He was looking forward to seeing how a coat of paint would transform some of the rooms from staid to modern.
A wave rose up behind him and he lay on the board, paddled forward with a glance over his shoulder, then stood up when the wave grabbed a hold of his board. The water propelled him towards the beach, and he turned the board back into the wave, then the other direction to ride it as far as it would take him.
Finally, it petered out and he fell into the curl of it, diving beneath it and feeling the tug of the leg rope as his board bobbed overhead.
He jogged up the beach, shook the water from his hair, then stood next to his surfboard, watching the waves in their relentless journey to shore and back again. He’d left his towel, mobile, clothes and keys there in a pile. As he dried off, his thoughts wandered to the Manor and Emily. Had he made the right choice in investing in it? Emily didn’t seem to want him there, she’d opened up a few times and he’d caught glimpses of the girl he used to know, then she closed up as fast and pushed him away.
He shook his head as he wiped the droplets of water from his face and neck. What had he done? Or was it her? If something was bothering her, he wished she’d speak up about it. He couldn’t do anything to make it better if he didn’t even know what was wrong.
His mobile phone rang, the sound muffled by the t-shirt he’d wrapped it in. He pulled it free.
“Hello, this is Ethan Flannigan.”
“Ethan, I’m Colin Hill with the Gold Coast Times, would you like to give a response to the charges of fraud that, rumour has it, will be laid against you by the Queensland Crown Prosecutor any day now?”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “What? Fraud?”
“Mammoth has been under scrutiny for months and you’re one of its key players. Do you care to comment on what Mammoth has done, or do you think the charges are in error?”
Ethan hung up the phone, dropped it on his shirt in the sand and pressed both hands to his face, scrubbing them over his hair with a grunt. What was going on? They couldn’t charge him with fraud, he hadn’t known anything about what the company was up to. As far as he was concerned, it was a legitimate engineering company and he’d done his best, worked hard, to become a partner believing it was all above board.
On the way back to his truck, he called his former boss, Chester. The phone rang and rang, finally voicemail picked up.
“Yeah, hi Chester, it’s Ethan Flannigan here. I want to talk to you about what’s going on with these fraud charges — I had a journalist call me on my mobile, telling me I’m going to be charged. I don’t even know what this is about, you've got to call me back, tell me what’s going on.”
As he hung up the phone, he swore beneath his breath. He had a feeling he wouldn’t hear from Chester, at least not anytime soon. No doubt he was lying low. If he really was going to be charged with something, he’d need help. He’d never needed a solicitor before for anything other than real estate conveyancing, but one of his old university friends was a solicitor now.
He did a quick search to see if he could find his friend’s number, located an old email address, and penned an enquiry. Perhaps Marc could help, or at least point him in the right direction. Then he gathered his things together and headed for the truck, his stomach in a knot. He’d always been the guy who’d done the right thing. Sure, he’d gotten into some mischief in high school, but nothing serious. And ever since, he’d followed the rules. It didn’t make sense that he was to be charged with fraud, but if they charged him surely that meant they had some kind of evidence against him. If that was true, what was it? He had no idea, but one thing he did know — he hadn’t done anything wrong, so if it looked to crown prosecutors as if he had, someone was setting him up.
Chapter 13
Diana
The tea in the cup beside her had grown cold about ten minutes earlier. Still, Diana put it to her lips, sipped and then grimaced as she returned it to the table beside her. She rocked her chair gently beneath her, and she watched as some of her neighbours strode around the cul-de-sac, hand-weights in each hand. They waved at her, smiled, and called out something about the weather. She nodded, waved back then took up her knitting needles again. The spool of yarn reached down into the basket at her feet, a dark pink that she thought would be perfect for Cindy. Her friend didn’t need a scarf, that was true enough, the weather in Emerald Cove barely got past chilly and certainly didn’t require the wearing of knitted scarves or caps. Still, she wanted to do something with her hands, hating to sit idle, and she thought the colour would complement her friend’s complexion well.
In the two weeks since they’d moved into their new home, she and Rupert had met most of their new neighbours and had even been invited to one couple’s house to play a game of Mah-jong. It wasn’t until that moment that Diana realised how much her life had changed. The couple told them they’d played the game with friends every week for the past forty years. They’d laughed as they said it, but she’d met Rupert’s gaze with a feeling of shock. He seemed to have experienced the same realisation as her, his eyes wide.
They hadn’t done anything for the past forty years but work.
Well, it wasn’t entirely true, but it felt that way. They’d had downtime, of course they had, but it wasn’t regular or scheduled, and in the early days of building up the Manor as a must-visit destination, they’d worked almost around the clock.
Saturdays and Sundays were some of their busiest times. They certainly couldn’t go out to dinner with friends on a Friday night, or invite them over for a game of cards on a Thursday night — there were guests to take care of, food to prepare, broken things to fix, supplies to order and marketing to be done. Running the Manor had taken almost every moment of their lives. Even her friendships were built around her business — her best friend, Cindy, lived next door which made maintaining the friendship highly convenient, not least because Cindy popped in for a cup of tea most mornings after the breakfast rush was done. Then there was the arrangement they’d had between the Emerald Cafe and the Manor for years, offering guests discounted food and drinks, something they’d only stopped doing recently when they discovered one of the waiters, Thad Borseth, was taking advantage and selling room keys to tourists so they could take advantage of the offer.
Diana’s heart fell. If Cindy hadn’t made the effort, would their friendship have survived all these years? If she was honest with herself, and with Cindy, she didn’t think it would’ve.
She swallowed another mouthful of cold tea before she knew what she was doing, then pushed it as far away on the table as she could with a grunt. There was nothing worse than cold tea.
A car pulled up to the curb outside their house and she eyed it with interest. They didn’t get much traffic in their street, only visitors. Who was this person there to visit, and why was he parked in front of their house? He pulled the car slowly up onto the verge, to get it out of the way of any traffic that might want to pass.
The driver’s side door of the black sedan opened, and a man stepped out. He was tall, with dark hair and wore jeans. He glanced around at the houses on their street. Her breath ca
ught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. It was him. She knew it was as soon as she saw him. His eyes found hers and he raised a hand in a hesitant wave.
“Hi,” he called.
She forced a smile into her face, then leaned to put the scarf and her knitting needles into the basket while she collected herself. What was he doing here? Obviously, she knew he had her address, since he’d written to her and she’d written back. Still, she hadn’t expected him to show up out of the blue. There were protocols to follow in a situation like this, steps involved. The next step might have been a phone call, although she wasn’t entirely certain she was ready for that — perhaps a few more letters first. But a visit? That was definitely something you’d talk about before doing it. Rupert was inside, he could finish his nap and come out to the porch at any moment. What then? She hadn’t talked to him about any of this. It would all be a complete surprise, and what about his heart?
She didn’t have time to dwell on the subject any longer, because the subject was walking directly towards her with a hesitant smile on his narrow face.
“Diana Jones?” he asked.
She reached out a hand to shake his, then didn’t let go as tears pricked and a lump formed in her throat. She squeezed his hand, unable to look away from the brown eyes, like her own, that stared back at her. It was uncanny. Almost like looking at a picture of herself as a man. He was so familiar.
“Yes, I’m Diana. You must be Ben.”
He nodded, ducked his head. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called first. It’s just that… I lost my job, and I was out driving, thinking about everything and then I turned in this direction. I didn’t think much about it, but now I’m here.”
“You drove from Townsville?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Yes. I did. I don’t even have a place to stay… I didn’t think it through. I wanted to see you, that’s all.”
She released his hand and waved at one of the pair of rocking chairs on the porch. “Come and sit down. I’d get you some tea, but my husband is inside sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him. As you can imagine, this is something of a delicate subject…” Her voice trailed away. She didn’t want him to think she was minimising or resented him being there. Only… she needed time. This wasn’t the way she’d wanted Rupert to discover the truth. Her heart pounded against her ribcage and her head felt light.
He sat, and she lowered herself into the chair next to him, reached for her knitting without thinking and began to knit.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I didn’t think about that. He’s not my…”
“Your father?” she asked.
He dipped his head.
“No, he’s not.”
These were conversations she’d never thought she’d have. The past had been left behind, so she’d believed, and she’d moved on. Still, few days had passed over the last forty-four years when she hadn’t wondered about him. Where he was, what he was doing… was he happy? Did someone love him? And then her heart would ache, and the pain would travel to her gut until her entire body was full of that bitter, achy feeling and tears would clog her throat.
“Ah… right. Okay.” He stared out across the road, cleared his throat. “So, I hope it’s okay that I came.”
She nodded, patted his hand where it rested on the arm of the rocking chair. “I’m so glad to see you. If you want to stay a while… and I hope you do… you can stay at the Manor. It’s my bed and breakfast, or at least it was until a couple of weeks ago. My niece runs it now… she’s your cousin, I suppose.” Diana chuckled. “She’ll be happy to discover she has a cousin after all, dear Emily.”
“Emily.” He seemed to ponder over the name. “Okay, I’ll see if they have a room available. I’d like to stay…” He smiled, his lower lip trembling a little.
“All these years… I’ve thought about you every day,” she said.
He glanced at her in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, of course. I never got over giving you up, not really.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I couldn’t have children, you see.”
“I didn’t know…”
“No children, only you. And I gave you away. It was a complicated situation, that’s true, but I always thought I’d have more kids. I’ve regretted it every day of my life. I could’ve made it work… even if it was just the two of us.” Her eyes filled with tears and she met his gaze. “I’ve wanted to say that for a long time. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. At the time, I was so scared. I thought it would mean… well, I didn’t know what it would mean. But hindsight being what it is, I know now that I could’ve dealt with whatever came. I didn’t know it then. I was only fifteen when I found out I was pregnant. Fifteen years old, and a good girl — you know? I was always a good girl, I followed the rules, I did the right thing. Except for this… this one time.”
She inhaled a slow breath to dampen the flow of tears that trickled down her cheeks unbidden. “One time… and it hurt to walk away but I thought it was for the best. And now…” She sobbed silently, letting the tears fall without doing anything to mop them up.
He knelt in front of her, took her hands into his. His earnest eyes sought hers. “It’s okay, you did what you thought was best. And I’m sure it was… best, I mean. I love my parents, they’ve been great. They loved me and raised me to be a strong, independent man. I wish I’d known you… wish we could’ve been together, but don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you, I only want to get to know you now, so we don’t waste any more years without one another.”
Diana couldn’t speak. She wrapped her arms around Ben and pulled him into an embrace, then sobbed against his hair.
They talked for a few minutes once both of them had calmed down. They strolled out to his car, and stood in the street, discussing life, careers, family, and friendships. The conversation brought a bubble of joy into Diana’s soul and she couldn’t stop smiling as she waved goodbye to Ben through the back window of his car.
She stood there a few moments, looking after him, one hand pressed to her lips. Then, wandered back to the house, collected her basket, and went inside. She jumped when she almost ran into Rupert, standing silently by the front door. He’d been watching her through the glass that bordered the door, his hands pushed into his pockets.
“Who was that?” he asked.
She must’ve looked a fright, with red-rimmed eyes, wet cheeks and who knew what else. She smoothed her hair back with one hand, her heart like a jack hammer.
“Oh, uh… he was lost. Needed directions to get to the highway. Can you believe it?” She laughed, a little trill that she reserved for when she needed to distract someone long enough to buy her some time. The problem was, she was fairly certain Rupert knew exactly why she laughed that way, since they’d been married for almost forty years.
“Okay,” he said, his face a mask.
She nodded. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. Want one?”
“Yes please.”
As she walked away, she released the breath she’d been holding and bit down on her lip. He didn’t believe her, she could see that in the look on his face, but he hadn’t questioned her further. Not yet anyway. No doubt that time would come.
Chapter 14
Emily
She stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the damage. Emily tugged the mask from her face and set the sander on the floor by her feet. The timber trim around the bedroom was half done, she had to sand the rest of it before she could prep and paint.
The bell at the reception counter dinged and she wiped her hands down the front of her pants before heading out to see who it was. She wasn’t expecting any guests until later in the day.
She found a tall man with brown hair and dark eyes standing by the counter, a backpack slung over one shoulder.
He smiled. “Hi, I was hoping you might have a room available for a few nights.”
She grinned. “We certainly do, let’s see… she checked the computer to see which ro
oms were free. “You could have room five, it’s available for the next week.”
She didn’t want to tell him it was empty for the foreseeable future, had no desire to scare off a potential guest. They needed every customer they could find.
“Perfect,” he said, handing over a credit card.
While she entered his information in the computer, they chatted about the weather, the town, and the best places to eat.
“Have you been to Emerald Cove before?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, never. It’s really pretty, I like it here. Peaceful, I guess you could say.”
“It is very quiet. Do you have friends or family in the area?” What she wanted to know was how he found out about the Manor. The marketing methods her aunt and uncle used to promote their business were still something of a mystery to her.
“Actually, yes I’m here to visit my mother.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’ll bet she’s happy to see you.”
He shrugged. “I think so… I hope so. Anyway, thanks a lot.”
He grabbed his room key and headed for the stairs.
“Second floor,” she called after him. “Breakfast starts at six.”
He waved a hand over his shoulder and climbed the stairs. She watched him go, eyes narrowed. That was strange. The moment she asked him about his mother it seemed he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
She shook her head. It was none of her business and she had work to do. She hurried back to the empty room on the first floor and set her mask back in place. The walls were a dark mauve colour and she intended to replace it with a light grey, with white trim. If she could lighten the place up by repainting, it would give the rooms a more spacious feel and bring the Manor into the current century. At least she hoped so. She wasn’t exactly an experienced decorator, but she’d bought a few home and lifestyle magazines the previous week and thumbed through them, marking the looks she preferred with post its.