Page 9 of The Summer That Changed Us

‘Excellent, it’s here!’ he said, tearing into a manila envelope.

Robyn opened her own post. The first was confirmation of a hospital appointment. She pushed it aside and opened the second, hoping it was more interesting. Inside was a remittance advice, notifying her of a bank transfer from Our Eco Life Magazine. A hundred pounds, a drop in the ocean compared to their monthly outgoings. There was a card pinned to it and she flipped it over. It was from Morgan.

Hey Robyn, I hope this finds you well! I have some sad news; I’ve been made redundant along with two others from the management team, so as I write this, it’s my last day at the magazine. Our Eco Life is getting a revamp editorially too and for the time being at least, they are pulling the illustrations. Hopefully this won’t be too much of a disappointment to you, I know you haven’t felt up to working much anyway. Keep in touch, all best, Morgan.

Oh God. Poor thing, thought Robyn. The tone of the note was bright and breezy, but Morgan had been at that magazine since its first issue; she’d be devastated. And bang went her own plan to get earning again. Now what was she going to do?

It took her a moment to notice that Finn had gone quiet. His expression was grim, and he was shaking his head.

‘Bastards,’ he muttered. ‘Greedy, ruthless bastards.’

Robyn stared at him. ‘What’s up?’

He passed her the letter and folded his arms. ‘Last winter we asked for an extension of the loan we took out for the GPS system and now they’ve tripled the interest rate. The repayments are going to have a massive impact on profit.’

She got up from her chair and made a space for herself on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, kissing his cheek.

‘Not your fault, love.’ He returned her embrace and sighed. ‘Mind you, probably not a bad thing that you’re going to be working again.’

‘Well.’ Robyn felt sick. ‘About that, I’ve had some bad news … ’

Finn groaned. ‘Oh no, not you as well.’

Her early morning mantra deserted her; instead, she was filled with guilt and sadness. She wasn’t a mother, she wasn’t an earner, she wasn’t even the woman Finn had married anymore. She didn’t know who she was and all at once she’d never felt so useless in her life.

Chapter Four

Katie rounded the headland and almost wept with relief when Sea Glass Beach came into view. If she could just get to the water, stand at the very edge where land met sea, then she’d be able to think clearly and try and process what the hell had just happened. She’d speed-walked here, and for the last twenty minutes she’d battled to keep that sickening image of her eighteen-year-old self, naked and terrified, at bay. She’d tried to focus on her physical sensations – the tight lungs, the coarse breathing and the race of her pulse. But it had been impossible, the shock wave was too seismic to ignore, and her brain fired round after round of questions at her.

What did this mean? What was the sender’s intention? And why was she getting this photo now, ten years after it had been taken?

Katie wracked her brains to try and remember the name of the model scout back then: Roy something, maybe? She and her dad had tried to track him down themselves soon after the photoshoot but to no avail. The police had shown little interest and so Dad had suggested hiring a private detective. Katie had begged him not to; the sooner they could draw a line under the whole incident, she’d reasoned, the sooner she could start moving on with her life. And her darling father, who wanted nothing more than to smooth every bump in his daughter’s path, had eventually agreed.

She could probably find out what happened to him a lot more easily now; there was a lot more information online these days than ten years ago. Not that she wanted anything to do with him, but now that he’d found her, it looked like she didn’t have any choice. Would he get in touch again, she wondered? If so, she’d better prepare herself. Knowledge, however unsavoury, was still power. Assuming it was him who sent the photograph, that was.

But why? She was aware her thinking had come full circle, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t think of one possible explanation as to why whoever had sent it had done so.

She gripped the wooden handrail and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other down the steep worn steps which cut through the rocks and curved down to the shoreline. It was the least accessible beach in the area, which was why it was her favourite; she was far less likely to be approached here by people she recognised than on the main sandy beach at the bottom of the high street.

The wind whipped around her ears and blew her hair out of its bun and into her eyes. She was glad she’d pulled her North Face jacket on before she’d left the shop. The sun might be out, but the breeze was bracing, the sea air scoured her skin and made her eyes water. At least that was what she was telling herself.

She jumped down the last step, her trainers landing with a crunch. Sea Glass Beach was shingle and coarse sand, and every now and then, the sunlight caught sharp-edged shells and stones, giving the beach a magical sparkling texture. Magic, she thought glumly, she needed a bit of that right now.

The beach wasn’t long; she could walk the length of it in ten minutes, seven today, given the mood she was in.

She glanced left and right; at the far end of the bay, a man was throwing a ball into the waves for his two Labradors to chase after. A few metres away a woman was following the dark line left by the tide, her head bowed, and her hands clasped a camera which hung from a neck strap. Most of her face was hidden behind a long scarf, but short dark hair poked out of the top of it and chunky lace-up boots kicked through the seaweed and driftwood.

Katie looked away quickly to avoid any potential small talk and headed straight towards the water, pushing her hands deep into the pockets and tucking her chin into the neck of her jacket. There was something about being known as the bra shop lady that made other women feel comfortable in her presence and want to unburden themselves; she’d seen them almost naked, which inevitably created an intimacy between them. Auntie Jean had been brilliant at making people relax and Katie did her best to emulate her. She loved her job. She loved making others feel good about themselves. She enjoyed the challenge of listening to the hang-ups women of all shapes, sizes and ages had about their bodies and working out how best to help them.

More often than not, this connection with her customers extended beyond the boundaries of Auntie Small’s. She found herself listening to tales of boob jobs and weight loss and details of new love affairs in the oddest of places. Women trusted her with their secrets, even though she never reciprocated and kept herself to herself. She had worked hard since being in Merle Bay to be professional, respectable, discreet. Would they feel the same, she thought, if they knew the truth about her?

A sob formed in her throat. Her life had spun out of control once; she couldn’t bear it if it happened again.

And Mum and Dad, how would they cope a second time around?

She slowed a few paces from water’s edge. Her feet were already beginning to sink in the wet sand, and she didn’t want to have to walk back with sopping trainers.