by Gina Amos
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tommy removed his reading glasses, looked over the top of the newspaper he had been reading for the last ten minutes and gazed out across the ocean at a flock of seagulls, watching them as they swerved sharply and slipped between the waves. The surf was flat this morning and the sky was clear.
He wondered why he’d not heard from Suellyn. The last time he had spoken to her was when she phoned him last Wednesday and even then she sounded distant and preoccupied, as if she had something on her mind. There was a hint of anxiety in her voice, but that wasn’t unusual for Suellyn, she was always anxious about something. Even so, he hoped she wasn’t getting cold feet or feeling guilty about Rose. Disconnecting the power was a bit drastic he thought, but in the end, a result was what they were both after and who was he to judge her, he probably would have done the same thing given the circumstances. Suellyn was tough underneath all those hysterics. He liked that about her.
It was eleven-fifteen. The real estate agent said he would drop by around eleven-thirty. The marketing campaign was on track and after a couple of open houses a young couple was interested in buying the beach house. Tommy had made up his mind a few weeks ago that it was time to move on after he discovered he was a beneficiary to Rose’s estate. What a surprise that had been. The old girl must have felt guilty about inheriting what she knew was rightly his. With the sale of his house, the windfall from Rose’s estate and the money Suellyn would eventually get from the sale of the house in Eden Street, they would be able to afford to live anywhere in the world. Tommy had suggested Spain but Suellyn wasn’t keen on the idea, but perhaps now after everything that had happened, she would reconsider.
The couple was impressed with the house and the agent was confident that they would exchange contracts by the end of the following week. Tommy looked around him at the job he had ahead of him. He wasn’t looking forward to packing up all his belongings but fortunately he was used to moving and most of the furniture in the house was rented anyway. Suellyn had already sorted through his clothes, but there were things he had to get rid of; starting with the contents of his bookcase and the two storage boxes in his wardrobe. The boxes were filled with childhood photos, letters and a collection of memorabilia his mother had sentimentally stashed away in her garage. The telephone rang. It was Suellyn.
‘Hi Sues, how are things?’
‘Things are fine Tommy, I just thought I’d let you know that it looks like we’ve got an interested buyer for the house in Eden Street. The real estate agent said that it didn’t worry the buyers that Rose died in the kitchen, they’re going to knock the house down anyway.’
‘That’s good news, so when am I going to see you? I’ve missed you.’ Tommy smiled into the phone. His cheek dimpled.
‘Things are a bit hectic here at the moment. Let’s wait for things to quieten down, okay?’ Suellyn breathed heavily into the mouth piece.
‘Whatever you want, but listen, I’ve got some good news as well. A young couple inspected the house this morning. They’re keen to buy it. Looks like all our plans are starting to take shape.’
‘I knew it wouldn’t take long for someone to snap it up. Having the beach at your back door really helps. All the same, I’m going to miss the place,’ Suellyn said.
‘So come up. What’s stopping you? One last look for old times’ sake.’
‘I promise I’ll come when I can get away. She hesitated, ‘Look Tommy, I have to go, I think I heard William at the front door,’ Suellyn lied. ‘Speak to you soon.’ Suellyn hung up and wondered what she was going to do about those letters. She was nervous and was having doubts. She was beginning to wonder who Tommy Dwyer really was and what he was capable of.
Suellyn was lying down on the lounge propped up against a couple of cushions, waiting for William to come home. She knew she had to tell him about the letters she found at the beach house. She stood up from the lounge and closed the sliding door. There was a market on today. Every weekend saw the influx of stall-holders peddling their wares, everything from organic goats’ cheese to hand painted glass plates. Children were squealing; the sound of carnival rides and tuneless music slowly drifted up to the eighth floor of their apartment block. It was the only downside of living across from the beach, that, and the salt spray that drifted in from the ocean devouring everything in its path.