Other Side of the Season Read online

  ‘Yeah, whatever.’ After shooting his sister a devilish grin, Jake’s gaze swept over the rest of the gallery’s pieces.

  ‘What do you think Mum would make of this place?’ Sid asked.

  ‘She’d go ape, I reckon.’

  • • •

  That night Jake cooked a seafood dinner for them both in the cottage while Sidney worked on the design job for Kurt.

  ‘Nothing fancy,’ Jake had announced as he slipped the bowl of spaghetti under his sister’s nose.

  ‘Yum! What is it?’

  ‘Seafood marinara. I nicked down to the co-op earlier. Hope it’s okay.’

  ‘Perfect, Jakey, thanks.’

  Sid stayed up well past midnight to meet Kurt’s deadline, but even then she found sleep impossible–too worked up about the prison visit and plain uncomfortable in a strange bed. A few times she nodded off, only to be woken by a pillow or a shoe landing on her bed, followed by a dozy demand from Jake on the fold-out sofa: ‘Stop snoring, will ya?’

  She woke early the next day to a cloudy, grey sky and a light morning drizzle. The temptation to stay tucked up in bed was strong, but so was the thought of meeting her grandfather. If she hurried she could be on the road and be back at the gallery in time for the ten am opening. If she was running late–because by some miracle she actually got to see her grandfather–she could ring Pearl and ask her to hold the fort.

  First she’d have to wake her brother and haul him out of bed. Sidney had decided not to worry about what their mother might say until after the prison visit.

  Once you’ve figured out the safest way to break the news. Like, maybe in another decade or so–and from a distance!

  9

  The Greenhill Banana Plantation, 1979

  How she’d break the news to David about Albie kept Tilly awake all night.

  By the time the sun was squeezing through the small rip in the roller blind, she’d made up her mind. David had to hear everything from her first. She’d start by telling him how he’d hurt her, leaving her scared and confused. How it was Albie who had come on to Tilly while she was vulnerable and at a disadvantage. David might get angry and threaten to straighten Albie out once and for all, as he’d done in the past when Tilly implied Albie was up to his old ways, but she would quickly talk him out of that, distracting David in the usual way.

  First, she had to get to him before Albie did.

  She found David down by the breakwall, squatting on his haunches, his beloved paintbrushes and pastels close at hand.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep, could you?’ he asked, standing to face her. ‘But then we would have missed all this.’ His arm made an arc overhead, almost knocking over the easel to his right. A light rain, mingled with the dawn’s early light, cast a misty veil over the seascape before them. ‘Nature’s own magnificent watercolour. My inspiration this morning. Look at those colours. Prussian blue and burnt sienna go together so perfectly,’ David said. ‘We’re meant to go together, too, Tilly.’

  ‘Yes, yes we are, David. I-I know.’ Tilly had run, then cycled fast, all the way from the Greenhill plantation road, ready to confess everything. But now she was with him, breathless, the truth tangled with the possibility that David might hate her.

  ‘See this watercolour I did earlier?’ He slid the paper out of his satchel.

  ‘David, put that away. It’ll be ruined,’ Tilly chided. ‘The air is too wet this early.’

  ‘I’m only mucking around, playing with colour. I love colour.’ He always got so excited about his art. Ordinarily Tilly wouldn’t mind, but she was too cold, too nervous, and too impatient to listen this morning. ‘See where two complementary colours meet and merge? And how new colours are born when they do? Something unique is created, something wonderful. Like us,’ David said. ‘We’re complementary. We go together.’

  He jumped onto a breakwall boulder and did a clumsy pirouette.

  ‘Get down. We have to talk.’

  Ignoring the order, he instead grabbed the hand she waved at him and broke into a gangly groove. For a second she wondered if he’d been smoking the wacky tobaccy old Merv had started growing in the forest behind the beach shacks.

  ‘David, quit mucking around. You’ll fall. If you don’t come down, I’m going.’

  ‘Not until I’ve shown you something,’ he said, leaping from one rock to another until he was back on solid ground, landing inches from Tilly. ‘Come on, come with me.’ He tugged her arm.

  ‘What? What is it?’ Her patience was wearing thin and so was her voice as she started to doubt her decision to tell him anything.

  ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ He pulled her along the rough gravel that lined the breakwall walk, not noticing she was struggling to keep up, or that she was a moment away from running back home to hide in her room.

  ‘Ta-dum!’ he announced, pointing. ‘What do you think?’

  TILLY + DAVID = FAMILY 4 EVER

  He’d painted it on the face of the biggest rock he could find, where everyone would see it. A rock so high and dry no tide would ever wash away his message.

  ‘The only rock I can afford for you right now,’ he grinned. ‘I used complementary colours, Tilly.’

  The words, written in white paint, were framed by a heart-shaped border–a beautiful mosaic of broken china, shells, and turquoise-coloured sea glass sanded smooth over time–all pains-takingly pieced together. Is this how he’d filled his days?

  ‘Well?’

  Standing there with David in front of their rock, the salt spray whipping her face, Tilly silently cursed her stupidity. How could she turn back time? This was all Matthew’s doing. He’d made her doubt David and herself. Now that business with Albie could ruin everything.

  ‘You really love me, David? Forever, no matter what?’

  ‘Of course. Forever, no matter what.’

  ‘But your dad and your mum . . . They’re your family. They have big plans for you.’

  ‘I don’t need any of that,’ David told her. ‘You once said I was your rock, Tilly. Well, you’re mine. You’re all I need. Yes, they’re my family and I love them, but we can start our own family.’

  Should Tilly’s heart pound any harder against her ribcage she feared both might break. These last weeks had given her heart such a battering, and like the growing swell now buffeting the breakwall–meant to be impervious and built to last–she knew even the strongest of objects became weak, worn down over time.

  ‘So you do want children, David?’

  ‘Sure, one day,’ he said, oblivious. ‘I’d need to sell a few paintings to get us started. But we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. Babies can wait. We’re going to be famous artists and open our own gallery. We can go wherever you want. I don’t care, as long as I’m with you. If my parents want to tie me to this place they’ll need to lock me up and throw away the key. And even if they do, I’ll break out. I won’t be a prisoner, Tilly. Big walls with barbed wire won’t keep me from being with you.’

  10

  Mid North Coast Correctional Centre, 2015

  ‘So much for big walls and barbed wire.’ Jake hoisted himself up into the four-wheel drive and slammed the door. ‘And so much for finding our felonious grandfather and getting the lowdown, eh, sis?’

  Sidney could only shake her head. ‘Two weeks. I can’t believe he died almost two weeks ago. That’s why they didn’t want to tell me anything over the phone. They probably had to notify his next of kin first. There could be another letter sitting in the letterbox at Brushstrokes as we speak. Mum’s still in Melbourne, so she won’t have found it yet.’

  ‘At least we know more than we did.’

  ‘Thanks to you and your smoodging-up in there.’

  ‘I can charm anything out of anyone. Charming Prince Jake–that’s me.’

  Sidney let her brother prattle on while she mulled over the few facts the prison officer had given them before suggesting they apply formally for more information. Manslaughter was serious, but Sidney
had been shocked that an elderly man would be locked up after something as everyday as a car accident. Cars crashed and often people unfortunately died as a result. Surely there was more to the conviction? She’d pressed the prison administrator for detail, but was instead referred back to Sly Taylor, their grandfather’s solicitor. The original letter, asking their father to come home to claim the family property, had come from a firm called Taylor & Brumsteer.

  ‘I said, what now?’ Jake poked his finger in the soft part of Sidney’s shoulder.

  ‘Ouch!’

  ‘You planning to look up the legal eagle, like she suggested in there?’

  ‘What sort of name is Sly for a solicitor?’ Sidney said vaguely.

  ‘Sid? Are you hearing me? What do we do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess we go home. My purpose for coming was to meet our grandfather.’

  Disappointment flashed over Jake’s face. ‘You’re not suggesting we go home right away, are you?’

  ‘There’s no longer any reason to stay.’

  ‘Except there’s one of those little beach houses with our family name on the door,’ Jake said. ‘The letter mentions family property.’

  ‘If that’s the case, we’re going to involve Mum. She has to know something.’

  ‘Yeah, she knows enough to disregard the letter and chuck it in the bin.’

  ‘That was then. She might see things differently now our grandfather is dead.’

  ‘You have a point, but in the meantime . . . Look, Sid, I know I acted like a moron when you detoured into this town without giving me the heads-up. But now I’m warming to the place and kind of looking forward to hanging around a bit.’

  ‘Oh, I know what’s got you all warm in the middle of winter.’ Sidney smiled. She knew Jake wanted time to get to know Pearl.

  Her brother might come across as unthinkingly enthusiastic and eager in many ways, and when it came to girls he came across as cocky, but at twenty-five Jake was yet to find himself a serious girlfriend. The longest relationship had been with Cindy Cooper, only she’d dumped him after her parents suggested Jake might turn out to be a bit of a no-hoper, restless like his father. Sidney had been angry, worried about Jake, and a tad defensive. To those who didn’t bother to get to know him, their dad could have seemed difficult and a little detached. Mostly, people were wrong about their father and her brother simply needed to find a girl who got him.

  ‘Let’s take some time. Mum’s not expecting us. In fact, going back early might bring her home from Melbourne prematurely.’

  Her brother had a point. ‘Okay then,’ Sid conceded. ‘I guess there’s no urgency, just a burning curiosity to ask Mum more questions–one best doused until Aunty Tasha has a chance to calm her down. Maybe then I can try digging a bit deeper.’

  ‘Aunty Tasha will have her work cut out for her, but if anyone can make Mum feel better, Tash can,’ Jake said. ‘In the meantime, you could ask Pearl if she knows about a fatal crash.’

  ‘And I guess I could poke around a bit.’

  ‘Of course, if asking means we discover our grandfather really was a crook and the town arsehole, or if you turn a simple question into one of your interrogations and stuff up what I might get going with Pearl, then–’

  ‘I don’t interrogate,’ Sid said. ‘And you don’t need to worry about me taking the polish off your Pearl. You might be the guy for her.’

  ‘You reckon?’ Jake looked so chuffed Sid almost regretted the joke she was about to make.

  Almost!

  ‘Sure, Jake. You do know a small irritant, like a grain of sand, is needed to make a pearl–right? And you, little brother, can be really irritating.’

  ‘Oh yeah? Well, stand back and watch me work my charm. Wouldn’t hurt you to get out and about. Might help you shake off that dickhead you lived with once and for all.’

  ‘When I want relationship advice, Jake, you can bet I’ll ask anyone but you.’ She shoved him in the ribs.

  Then again, she thought, perhaps she was being too hasty. Jake might be able to teach her a thing or two about men. The few times her brother had caught up with her and Damien–usually a fleeting visit to the Blue Mountains for the obligatory birthday or Christmas catch up–hadn’t she noticed something unusual in Jake’s behaviour towards Damien? Rather than the brotherly bond she’d hoped, Jake always acted more like a wary dog, protective hackles bristling. Perhaps that was part of the male psyche–the ability to sniff and detect a creep at ten paces.

  Sid turned the key in the ignition.

  ‘Get your feet off my dashboard, Jake. Let’s get back to Watercolour Cove.’

  ‘We’re sticking around?’

  ‘Better we spend the winter here than in the Blue Mountains. As long as we’ve got a room and a job that pays, we can stay. It’s not like I have anyone waiting for me.’

  11

  Watercolour Cove, 2015

  Pearl dropped in the next day just in time for morning tea. She dumped the tie-dyed dillybag that was her constant companion on a chair in the garden, then walked to the gallery door.

  ‘Sidney?’ Her voice echoed. ‘I’ve made tea for two.’

  They sat together at a small table outside in the sun.

  ‘That smells good.’ Sidney bent over the colourfully-glazed teapot, a work of art in itself, and sniffed the column of steam rising from the spout.

  ‘Lemon, sage and honey. Harvested fresh from the garden, including the honey.’

  ‘The boss keeps bees? Wow, I love bees.’

  Pearl turned the teapot three times in a circle. ‘Like I said, feel free to make this place your own. You do know to help yourself to whatever you need from the kitchen during the day, right?’

  ‘No, actually,’ Sidney replied. ‘I figured with the B & B closed and the doors locked . . .’

  Pearl laughed. ‘The doors are closed, not locked. Nothing gets locked up much around here, except the gallery. The boss doesn’t think much of pussyfoots either, so don’t wait for permission and definitely don’t wait to be invited. If you want tea and bikkies, just help yourself. You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen of the main house.’

  ‘Thanks for the heads-up.’ As she watched Pearl’s tea ritual–pour, stop, pour, stop, pour, stop–Sidney worked up the nerve to ask a question. She’d been thinking nonstop about the best way to phrase it since she and Jake got back from the prison yesterday.

  ‘Do you know about a car crash a few years ago? Not far from here, I believe.’

  ‘There’s been a few. That stretch of the Pacific Highway near our turnoff has always had a reputation for being a bit of a black spot, especially at peak holiday times.’ Pearl put down the teapot. ‘I’m guessing on the way here you saw the roadside memorial at the intersection and that’s why you’re asking?’

  Sid swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She hadn’t noticed any memorial, but she was curious. ‘Ah-ha, yep,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, there’s been some horrific crashes involving trucks and holidaymakers. That one–the memorial at the intersection–was the worst. The victims were locals. All from the one family. An absolute shocker.’

  ‘The entire family died? That’s terrible.’

  ‘Worse still is being an only survivor.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That father woke up in hospital, still in a critical condition, only to learn his wife and two kids were dead. You don’t know grief until something like that happens.’

  Sidney blew on her tea, not sure what to say.

  Pearl picked up her own cup. ‘Every now and then a tragedy shocks our little community. When I was living in the city I’d see news reports of people killed in accidents all the time. You feel a certain detachment. I noticed the difference once I moved back to Watercolour Cove. It’s a matter of numbers, you see? The smaller the town’s population, the more connected you are, and the greater the sense of loss.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Sometimes even the tiniest thin
g can seem ten times worse in a small town. Sadder still is when a tragedy divides a small community. Even after years, some grudges have never faded.’

  ‘Of course, yes.’

  ‘What I’m saying is,’ Pearl’s voice fell to a whisper, as if the plants had ears, and Sidney strained to hear her over squabbling lorikeets in the nearby grevillea bush. ‘It’s best you don’t mention accidents, or the like, around here. There’s been a few bad ones,’ Pearl said. ‘That guy who killed the family and left the father lame got charged with manslaughter, but he only got two years, probably because of his age. People here were pretty pissed off about that. When locals are involved, there’s often anger.’

  ‘Oh, no, of course. I understand. I won’t mention anything.’

  ‘And take care at that intersection.’ Pearl stirred extra honey into her tea. ‘Hey, you okay?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sidney muttered into her cup. ‘The tea’s good. Hot, but good.’ The lorikeets startled at a sudden buzzing sound and Sid looked around, puzzled. The noise seemed to be coming from the base of the same grevillea bush.

  Pearl smiled at her. ‘That,’ she said, ‘is the sound of customers. I forgot to mention the alarm system, but I guess you figured it out.’

  ‘I had wondered where the noise was coming from and why.’

  ‘You’ll hear a loud buzz whenever a car passes through the gate at the bottom of the hill. There are several speakers around the property. They all look like rocks.’

  ‘Rocks?’

  Pearl pointed at a very life-like brown stone concealed beneath the shrubbery.

  ‘Oh, I should’ve realised,’ Sid said. ‘My mum has a similar alert system at the door to her B & B.’

  ‘Your mum owns a B & B? Where? You never said. Kind of makes you almost too qualified for this job.’ Pearl laughed.

  ‘The B & B is closed–for a while. My mum is in Melbourne, with a friend,’ was all Sid offered.

  ‘Well, the system here is fairly simple. Wherever you are–if you’re in the main house or at the cottage–you need to respond, but there’s no rush,’ Pearl explained. ‘A local who knows how treacherous that drive can be will take around five minutes. A moron will take less, but there’s very few of them, luckily. I’ll hang around for now to make sure you aren’t about to be inundated,’ she said with noticeable sarcasm. ‘Then I’ll be off.’