by Lilly Mirren
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Talk to him. What did that mean? Was he alive? He didn't look alive. His eyes were shut, and he wasn't moving. His hair, normally golden and soft, lay lank, dark and wet across his eyes.
"Brad, I'm here, honey," she said, but the words came out choked.
There was an ambulance waiting for them in the parking lot. When had it arrived? Or perhaps it'd been there the whole time. She didn't know. There was so much she didn't know about any of this. These weren't the kinds of things she should be thinking about right now. She should be enjoying her honeymoon in her husband's arms.
They transferred Brad into the ambulance, and one of the paramedics ushered her in behind him. She sat on a small, hard seat in the back of the ambulance as the paramedic shouted questions at Brad while checking for breath and a pulse.
Through it all, Meg stared, frozen in place. She reached out a hand to rest on Brad's leg.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear her. "It's all going to be okay. You'll wake up soon, you'll be fine, we'll laugh about it all. You'll see. And then we can go snorkelling again tomorrow before breakfast, and you can call me your adorable little piggy when I order the bacon and eggs again. Come on, Brad, wake up."
Chapter 2
Sarah
The main highway to Emerald Cove was nothing more than a single-lane paved road, barely wide enough to fit two cars side by side. The edges of the pavement fell away to gravel, then blowing plains of seagrass that billowed and swayed its way over rises and dunes until it met a few straggly coastal shrubs that shielded the beach from view.
Sarah Flannigan had travelled the road more times than she could remember. She'd spent her childhood in the town, but it'd been fifteen years since she'd lived there.
The top of her convertible Mercedes was up today. The weather was beautiful, and the sun shone bright in a brilliant blue sky with no clouds to be seen from horizon to horizon. Still, December wasn't the best time of year to be exposed to the sun in Emerald Cove. It'd turn her skin beet red inside of ten minutes - a sad fact she'd lived with throughout her childhood years.
Fair skin and beach living didn't go well together, which was exactly why she always wore a large hat, these days often coupled with long-sleeved cotton shirts even when the weather was so warm that sweat trickled down her spine.
She had worn one today and had the AC cranked in her car so high it was blowing her hair back a little from her shoulders.
It'd been a long drive. They'd had to stop a few times for fuel and food. She checked the rear-view mirror - the moving truck was still behind her. At least she hadn't lost them in the traffic, turns and bends that'd gotten them through Grafton and Ballina. The new stretches of highway made all the difference; the journey hadn't been as bad as she'd remembered it. These days, she mostly flew to the Gold Coast Airport and hired a car from there when she visited home, but this time, it was different. This time, she was staying.
She sighed and switched on the radio, swivelling the dial until she found the local station. The announcer's voice brought childhood memories swarming back, one on top of the other. Riding in the back of the car with a group of teenagers singing at the top of their lungs. Evenings in the bed of a truck parked at the beach, a bonfire lighting up the blackness of the country night, laughing over the boys who'd gone skinny-dipping, then streaked through the glow, hands covering their privates.
There were so many memories. Her stomach clenched. Was she doing the right thing? It seemed crazy for her to sell everything, pack up her entire life and move home to the Cove now. Everyone told her so. She'd almost listened. But then, something inside compelled her to keep going, to keep moving, to run home and stay there. At least for now.
She needed a sea change. A new lifestyle, away from the bustle of the urban sprawl.
Heck, she needed more than that. She needed a new life. Something completely different than the one she'd been living. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she'd come to that realisation. Everything she'd done since she was eighteen years old had been leading her in the direction she'd taken. She'd wanted the high-profile career, the handsome and successful fiancé, the impressive friends and exquisite cocktail parties.
After spending her childhood in a beachside hamlet where the idea of a cocktail party involved small, red frankfurters in a napkin with lashings of tomato sauce, she relished the sophistication she'd found in Sydney. It was the life she'd longed for as a teenager while seated on the beach watching the ocean crest and sigh as her friends splashed and dove beneath the waves.
She slowed the car as she approached the outer limits of Emerald Cove. A sign marked the start of the village, though there was nothing else to signal the presence of a community. No buildings in sight. No other traffic either. When she reached the turnoff, she pulled her convertible to the side of the road, careful to give the truck behind her plenty of space.
A piece of paper, with the company logo of the publishing house she worked for etched along the top, was folded on the passenger seat. She unfolded it and read her hurriedly scratched instructions. She could get out her phone and use GPS, but the real estate agent had assured her it would do no good. Her new cottage wasn't located on the digital map, and she'd find herself lost in no time. She didn't remember the cottage from her childhood, since it was located outside of the main part of town on a hilltop overlooking the ocean. At least, that was what the photographs on the realty website had shown.
Whispering the directions beneath her breath, she set the paper back in place on the seat and pulled onto the road with a quick glance over her shoulder.
Oceanview Lane was little more than a rugged, half-paved track. It pulled off to the left of the main highway, with a wattle tree blocking the street sign so that she only saw it at the last minute and had to flick on her blinkers quickly so the moving truck didn't careen into the rear of her car as she braked and swerved.
"Sorry!" she whispered with a quick wave of the hand. No doubt they were cursing her after a long day on the road and several unscheduled stops so she could check her email. She was waiting to hear back from a client on a manuscript she'd been editing, but so far, they'd remained silent.
She shook her head. Time to switch off from work and focus on what she was doing. But how should she do that exactly? She'd hardly taken a holiday in almost ten years; she wasn't sure she knew how to turn off her working brain and focus on her private life. Perhaps it was something she should've done long ago, although it'd only been the past year or two that the effort of always being on duty, always having more work to do, never turning off her brain, had begun to wear her down.
The convertible bumped and jolted its way down the lane. A few potholes looked big enough to swallow the small vehicle whole, but she dodged them just in time. There were four other driveways before her own. She counted them. The agent had told her the fifth driveway was the one, and she turned down it while leaning forward over the steering wheel as far as she could to see the way ahead.
There was a narrow gate, rotted timber propped open. Brushes and shrubbery dwarfed a broken fence line that circled the property. In the centre of a small garden stood a cottage. It was pale grey with a dark roof. The walls were covered in a climbing vine and mould, and the garden was overgrown, like a mop-haired child.
Sarah parked in a patch of tall grass and helped signal the truck to park in front of the cottage.
"This it?" asked the driver.
She nodded, fetched the key from the glove box and opened the front door. It creaked and stuck a little. She shoved it with her shoulder, and it flew open, releasing a musty smell.
With a cough, she stepped aside, pressing her hands to her hips, and watched as the movers deftly ferried every one of her possessions into the small structure. Within a half hour, everything was inside and the truck was pulling out of the driveway.
Sarah stood in her new living room and looked around at the piles of boxes a
nd plastic-wrapped furniture with a shake of her head. She didn't have the energy to do any unpacking after a twelve-hour drive.
The house seemed more rustic, older than the photos had indicated. Her agent had assured her it was in liveable condition, but standing in the middle of the largest habitable room, she wasn't so sure. She tiptoed around the house, giving it a quick tour, hoping not to find anything living inside that didn't belong there. She was gratified to discover that the only other residents than herself seemed to be a few spiders. And once she'd opened the windows, the musty smell subsided reasonably quickly.
Sarah threw herself down on a covered couch and tugged her mobile phone from her jeans pocket. It was hot. Already she’d sweated through her t-shirt, and the jeans clung to her damp legs.
There were several calls from Jeremy. Her nostrils flared and stomach tightened. Never mind. She'd ignored his calls for weeks; she could continue to ignore them until he finally got the picture and gave up. It was a surprise to her he'd carried on for this long. Surely, he knew she wouldn't call him back by now. Having her phone on silent was the only way she could survive his unrelenting attempts to contact her, though it did mean she missed most of her work-related calls. That was a frustration she could do without.
Her mobile service only had one and a half bars, then a moment later, it disappeared entirely, replaced by an SOS Only message on the screen. She wondered if the service was always so bad at the cottage. She'd have to get wireless installed soon. She'd never be able to manage her work with such sporadic service.
Outside, the rotting porch seemed ready to collapse beneath her feet at any moment. She grimaced as one of the boards shifted, then shuffled onto another. The boards might've been past their prime, but the view was impressive. She stared out over a deep blue ocean. The sun travelled down the western sky behind her, sending shafts of pink and orange light over the shifting sea, imbuing it with a magical glow.
Her eyes widened, and a satisfied smile spread over her lips. This was what she'd been looking for. She could stand living in a small, musty cottage with rotting floorboards for this view. It was incomparable.
In her pocket, her mobile buzzed. She startled, then tugged it free to stare at the screen. Three full bars. Apparently, the porch was the best place to get service. There was a message from her mother.
Let me know when you get in. I'm so excited!
She smiled to herself. When she'd first told Mum she was moving back to Emerald Cove, there'd been complete silence on the other end of the phone line. Then, disbelief had echoed through her carefully chosen words.
"Don't do anything rash, love. I didn't mean for you to drop everything to come to my rescue. I'm sure I can figure things out…"
"No, Mum," she'd said in a steady tone. "You need my help with the cafe after Dad ran off and left you in the lurch."
"But just a quick trip should do the job."
"Don't you want me to come home?" she'd asked then, her throat tightening. She wasn't sure she wanted to do it herself. Part of her was aghast at the idea, told herself she was crazy to drop a thriving career as the hottest young editor on staff at one of the top publishing houses in Sydney. She'd even heard talk of being on the fast track to head editor. Head editor of Greenmount Publishing - it was what she'd been working for, dreaming of.
"Of course I want you to… but I don't want you to give up the life you've built. Not for me. I'm so proud of you, and I know you love it there. You'd hold it against me…"
"No, I won't." And as she'd said the words, the objections in her own mind had stilled. This was something she had to do. Wanted to do. "I want to be there for you, Mum. The way you've always been there for me when I needed you. And besides, I could do with a change of scenery. It's getting a bit…"
She didn't know how to finish the sentence. What was it getting? Constrictive? Difficult? Frustrating?
If only Jeremy would stop calling, maybe then…
She sighed and texted her mum back.
I made it. At the cottage now.
This place was a chance to start again. She'd help Mum get the cafe back on track, to get over Dad leaving her for a younger woman. And she'd give herself a second chance at the same time. After all, she'd managed to convince her boss to let her work from home. She could juggle her editing load from hundreds of kilometres away, and she could enjoy this amazing view while she worked.
You should come for dinner. I'm at the shops now, I'll pick us up something.
Sarah studied the screen, even as her stomach cramped with hunger. She hadn't eaten anything other than a hastily scarfed burger since breakfast. Mum's cooking was one of the things she'd missed most about living so far away from the Cove.
I'll unpack a few things then come over.
It felt strange to be living somewhere close enough that she could just pop over to her old childhood home. Strange in a good way? She wasn't sure yet. It might take some time to get used to her new living arrangement.
Great. See you soon!
Sarah shoved the phone back into her pocket and stepped inside the cottage. She immediately missed the fresh, brisk breeze from the porch. The stale, musty smell inside made her nose twitch. She pressed both hands to her hips and studied the mess.
Boxes everywhere.
It was hard to know where to begin. But she should at least try to find some pyjamas and her toothbrush. With a sigh, she set about reading the labels on the boxes and pushing them into like piles. She located her bathroom box and with a grunt carried it to the bathroom. Mouldy tiles and stained walls greeted her. She eyed the bathtub slash shower with suspicion. Did she dare stand barefoot in it? Perhaps she'd take a change of clothes over to Mum's with her, shower there and scrub down this shower tomorrow. With that resolved in her mind, she bent to unpack the box.
Ugh, where were the box cutters?
She did her best with the tip of one of the keys on her keychain, and the box was soon open. Another glance around the room and she decided to leave everything in the box until she'd had a chance to thoroughly clean the place. Perhaps she should've invested in a hazmat suit?
She shook her head, grabbed her toiletry bag from the box and padded outside to find the shoulder bag she'd purposefully packed with the things she'd need the first night in the cottage. It was all well and good to have these things prepared ahead of time, but you had to find the darned bag for it to be helpful. Now, where would the movers have put that bag?
Chapter 3
Cindy
"You ready to order that turkey yet?" Marg asked, tugging at the fingertips of her rubber gloves before reaching down to grab a handful of shaved smoked ham beneath the sparkling glass of the deli counter.
"Yes please. You know what I want. I'll need to pick it up the day before Christmas Eve."
"Got it," Marg replied with a wink. "I'll set aside the best one for you, Cindy. Nice and plump. You gonna have enough guests to manage it this year? Or are you thinking leftovers for a week?" Marg chuckled at her own attempt at a joke as she wrapped the ham in butcher's paper.
"I've got Sarah here this year," Cindy replied with a smug dip of her head. "And the other kids will be coming too."
"Oh yeah, that's right. Sarah's moving back to the Cove, you said?"
Cindy smiled. "She's here. Made it already. I just got a text from her that she's at the cottage."
Marg handed Cindy the package, her blue-tinted hair pulled tight in a bun. Cindy knew the moment Marg got home that bun was coming out and the frizzy hair Marg was known for around town would tumble around her shoulders. "Well, that's nice. Everyone's talking about it, you know? Sarah Flannigan moving back to the Cove. Who would've thought? I mean, she has that high-powered career in the city, and we've barely seen her for years. I wonder why…" Marg's brown eyes narrowed.
Cindy swallowed and shook her head slowly. "I guess she missed home. Thanks for that, Marg. Don't forget about my turkey, will you?" The last thing she wanted was for everyone in the Cove to b
e talking about her personal life again. She'd managed to get through two months of constant chatter, questions, condolences and pitying looks everywhere she went after Andrew ran off with Keisha. The thought of giving the town more fodder now by revealing that Sarah had come home to the Cove to save her beloved cafe was more than she was ready to deal with.
Marg issued a mock salute. "I'll write the order down now. Don't you fret, your Christmas turkey will be here."
"Day before Christmas Eve…” Cindy called over her shoulder as she pushed the wobbling trolley away from the deli counter.
"Day before Christmas Eve!” Marg confirmed with a wave.
Cindy sighed as she hurried down the closest aisle. She loved Marg but wasn't ready to deal with the entire town knowing the reason for Sarah's move to the Cove yet. No doubt they'd figure it out soon enough. In the meantime, she wanted some time to enjoy it.
Excitement bubbled in her gut.
It'd been more than a decade since any of her children had lived in Emerald Cove. She'd raised them all here but had known since they were young they wouldn't stay. All three of them were smart, ambitious and hardworking. The Cove didn't have anything to keep them here.
And now Sarah was back.
Even though she couldn't be happier about the prospect of seeing her eldest daughter on a regular basis, she couldn't help worrying. Why was Sarah back in the Cove? Other than the obvious reason of her asking for help, there had to be more to it than that. Sarah could've taken a few days, visited and gone over the cafe's books before returning to her life in Sydney.
Her announcement had come two weeks earlier that she was moving back - for good - though Cindy still didn't quite believe that to be true. Cindy hadn't been able to speak for a full minute.
Moving back to the Cove? For good?
Sarah had assured her she'd heard correctly.
"But Sarah, love…you've always said you'd never move back. You couldn't wait to get out of here. It's too small, nothing ever happens here. Those were your exact words."