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‘No. She promised to call me.’ Cleo knew if she went home, she’d only worry even more. It was best she kept busy. ‘I’ll be fine. It was just Ruby – on top of everything else, Hannah moving out, my call to Pat. She got to me. I’ll be fine,’ she repeated. ‘Thanks for listening.’
‘Well, remember, I’m here for you, if you need someone to talk to… when you do hear anything.’
‘Thanks.’ Not for the first time, Cleo thought how lucky she’d been to meet Bev, to find the position here inThe Pandanus Café, almost as soon as she’d arrived in Bellbird Bay.
As usual, Cleo’s day became busy once customers arrived for morning coffee, then lunch. But, despite keeping her phone in her pocket and willing it to ring, it wasn’t till the workday was over and she was about to go home, that she heard the familiar sound and saw Pat’s number on the screen.
Seven
‘How’s it going – the share house?’ Will asked Owen as they made their way back up the beach. This was the first morning Owen had joined him in the surf since he’d moved out, and Will had been beginning to think his son had abandoned him in favour of his new housemates.
‘Good.’ Owen shook his head, sending drops of water in all directions. ‘But Hannah wants us to draw up a roster of tasks – things like cooking and cleaning.’ He grimaced.
Will laughed. ‘You didn’t think she was going to do the lot, did you? Surely I’ve trained you better than that?’
Owen looked sheepish. ‘Didn’t Mum do all that, before she got sick?’
‘Your mum was a good housewife, but I always did my bit around the place. We were a team.’ Will paused, remembering how it had been when Dee was alive, before she became sick. They had been so happy together, so young, but determined to show their parents – and the world – they could manage. And they had. It hadn’t been easy, trying to make ends meet while he was setting up the surf school, wondering if they were being too ambitious. But it had worked. He’d made a success of it. ‘I hope you and Nate are going to pitch in, be fair to Hannah. You’re all equal partners in that house.’
‘Sure, Dad. Anyway…’ in Owen’s usual fashion he was quick to change the subject when it wasn’t to his liking, ‘…this development thing. Hannah came up with the idea we stage a protest. You said the council were meeting – it’s the week after next, isn’t it? We thought…’
‘Steady on, son. There’s no need to get carried away. I’m glad you and your mates show concern about our coastal environment but protesting at a council meeting may not be the best way to go about it.’
‘Why not? Nate says he’s been on protests when he was at uni in Canberra, and Hannah knows people who’d jump at the chance to take a stand. She says her mum and dad used to go on protests when she was little, her dad especially. Sounds like he was what they call an eco-warrior – totally into saving the planet.’
‘That’s as may be, but this is Bellbird Bay. We have to live here, run our businesses. Not everyone would be behind any sort of protest. We have to find other ways to make our case – legal ways. Coop and I intend to be at the meeting, listen to what’s being said. Ted Crawford’s promised to be there, too. Leave it to us, Owen.’
‘I can’t promise, Dad. I need to get to work now.’ Owen gripped his surfboard and strode off in the direction of the car park where his Toyota Hilux was waiting, leaving Will shaking his head.
While he was pleased his son was developing a mind of his own and was community focussed, Will was concerned Owen might be heading for trouble. Who was this Hannah Johansen and who was her mother? When he’d met the woman, she hadn’t appeared to be the radical environmentalist Owen described, but she’d only been there briefly. And he knew she worked with Bev Cooper at the garden centre – in the café. That didn’t sound too bad. And hadn’t Owen said Hannah was a teacher? He shook his head again. Owen was growing up, and Will would have to accept they might have differing views on things. And, although they agreed on opposing the development, what they differed on was the appropriate action to take.
The arrival of a family of five children all eager for their first surf lesson put Owen out of Will’s mind, and for the next hour he was kept busy doing what he loved. It was always a thrill when students finally got it, and the look of delight on their faces was a joy of which he never grew tired. This morning was no exception and when, at the end, they begged their parents to book another lesson, he knew it had been a success.
He was checking his iPad for his next appointment when a now familiar voice trilled, ‘Good morning, Will.’ Looking up, he saw Joy Taylor picking her way across the sand towards him. This morning she was dressed in a skimpy green dress with white spots which, he had to admit, did look good against her mane of red hair. But surely she was too old for the skirt which barely covered her rump, and the strappy sandals she was wearing weren’t designed for walking on the beach.
‘You naughty boy.’ She waved a finger at him – a red-painted talon. ‘You haven’t been answering my calls.’ She gave him a flirtatious smile.
Will sighed. He’d hoped, by ignoring her calls and texts, she might lose interest. ‘Sorry, Joy.’ He waved his iPad towards her. ‘I have another booking. Here they come now.’ he added, seeing a young couple heading towards them with two teenagers in tow.’
‘Do I have to book another lesson to get your attention?’ Joy pouted. ‘But you must take a break for lunch. Meet me in the surf club at twelve-thirty. I won’t take no for an answer.’ She wagged her finger at him again then, taking off her sandals, sauntered off.
Will breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew he’d have to do some fast thinking at lunchtime. He normally did go to the surf club for his lunch. Now she was going to be there, too, invading what he considered to be his territory. Before his next booking reached him, he sent a quick text to Martin Cooper.
Can we meet for lunch at the surf club at noon? Need your support. W
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Martin’s reply had included several question marks, two exclamation marks and a laughter emoji, but to Will’s relief, after a brief explanation from Will, he confirmed he’d be there.
When Will climbed the stairs, he saw Martin already at the bar chatting to Nate McNeil, who was working behind the bar.
‘Looks like you’re in need of a beer,’ Martin said, clapping Will on the shoulder. ‘Can’t handle a woman on your own?’ He chuckled.
‘Wait till you meet her. Thanks, mate.’ Will picked up the schooner of beer Nate had served and took a gulp. ‘I’ve tried everything, ignored her last attempts to contact me, then there she was on the beach this morning, looking like… I don’t know what she looked like.’ He pulled on his hair which was tied back in a low ponytail.
‘She fancies you, mate. That’s all there is to it.’ Martin chuckled again. ‘But if you need moral support, I’m your man.’
‘Is this her?’ Nate leant over the bar and spoke in a low voice.
Will looked over to the top of the stairs where Joy was standing gazing around. When their eyes met, she smiled widely and made her way towards where the two men were standing at the bar. To Will’s relief, she had changed from the flimsy garment she’d been wearing on the beach and was now more suitably dressed in a flowery dress which reached past her knees, though it did have a low V-neckline.
