The Bay (24 page)

‘Not much, everyone wanted to talk about the fire. Though I had a strange fellow in this morning, playboy type. Wanted to know who was the richest woman in Beacon Bay. And meant it.'

‘That's a bit of a worry. You didn't tell him about Nola?'

‘No, I said all the women up here were either broke or paying alimony to their ex-husbands! But even if he hears about Nola, he's scarcely going to knock on her door. And she doesn't go out much anyway. I mean, she is over seventy. He looked about thirty but the dyed hair is a bit of a giveaway, I'd add another ten years.' Billy saw Matty waving that he had a customer and he stood up. ‘Must dash, darling. And think about going digital.'

Kimberley dismissed him with an exaggerated flourish. ‘Get out. None of that sex talk to me, thank you very much.' They both laughed. Kim felt better. It was good to talk with a male friend.

Stolle gave a whistle as he sauntered through the garden to Richmond House.

‘Yo, Stolle. What's up?' Mitchell called from the top of a ladder where he was working on a window frame.

‘Hi, Mitch. Found a few treasures I thought Holly might like to look at.'

Mitchell climbed down. ‘She's down at the shops. What've you found?' He was immediately interested, knowing Stolle's knack for finding ‘treasures'.

‘Etched stained glass pictures, 1920s, I'd say.'

He followed Stolle to his Kombi where several blanket-wrapped frames were stacked. Stolle pulled one out and gently unwrapped it.

‘Oh, man, that is lovely,' said Mitchell. It was a delicate coloured image on clear glass of a Grecian nymph bearing a bouquet of flowers. Etched into the bottom of the ornate picture was the word ‘Spring'.

‘The four seasons, each one is intact. Do you think Holly can use them?'

‘Set against the light around the house, they would be stunning. I'd cut special enclaves for them, they're not right to set into windows. Where'd you find them?'

‘You know me, beauty falls at my feet. In an old farmhouse, actually. They were packed in a crate with straw and not damaged. Could be copies or a very good artist. Not signed but they seemed right for Richmond House, and the price was okay. The old farmer was happy to get rid of them.'

‘I'm sure Holly'll love them. It's up to her, of course. Want a coffee?'

‘Yeah.' They headed into the kitchen and Stolle noticed how at home Mitchell was in the kitchen.

‘Place is coming on well. Holly must be pleased. Question is, what does her picky husband think?'

‘This is Holly's project,' said Mitchell staunchly. And as he poured the coffee he asked casually, ‘What do you make of him?'

‘Andrew? Haven't had a lot to do with him. Well he's never here. Doesn't seem too interested in this place, too busy banging up zillion-dollar resorts.'

‘Have you heard anything about a possible development along a strip of beachfront? Near where the meatworks were?'

‘God, no. I thought the ratshit idea of ruining the beach got terminally knocked on the head ten years ago. Why're you asking?' He sensed there was more to Mitchell's question.

‘Look, in confidence, I saw Andrew out there with a set of plans, and a certain lady solicitor who deals in commercial development.'

‘Oh, Christ, not the dreaded Sweets. What did Holly have to say about it?'

‘I haven't told her. Didn't want to pry.' Mitchell looked uncomfortable.

‘Is Andrew still here?'

‘Holly says he went back to Sydney.'

Stolle gave him a shrewd look. ‘When did you see him down at the beach?'

‘When he was here at the weekend. I can't help wondering and I don't want to ask Holly about it.'

‘Do you think she knows anything?'

Mitch shook his head. ‘Andrew appears to play his cards close to his chest. If he is involved in some deal, I don't think she's aware of it.'

‘Let me think out aloud for a bit. If Andrew is involved in something and she doesn't know, that's awkward. If she does know and is hiding it, that's even more . . . uncomfortable.'

Mitch didn't want to mention the passionate embrace he'd witnessed. ‘I don't think Holly is the devious type. But I'm not so sure about Andrew. That strip of beach and the wetlands are like a sacred site with locals now.'

‘Perhaps it's time to do some digging then.'

‘So how are you going to do that? You can't just front up to Letitia Sweetman.'

‘There are ways and means. I know a mole in council and our intrepid local rag keeps an eagle eye out for these sorts of rumours. In fact I've got a gig with them; doing the “Buzz” column. They discovered I did journalism at uni before coming here. Amazing what quality gossip one picks up at the markets. Ear to the ground, voice of the people, that sort of thing.
The Beacon Bugle
was started for just that reason.'

‘Keeping the bastards honest?'

‘And clean, and green. And independent. It started as one man's vision, a lone voice in the media wilderness, now it's owned by the community.'

‘Yeah, it's a good little paper. But sometimes it's a bit over the top in its criticisms of progress,' Mitchell said.

‘Depends on how you define “progress”, mate. When a small local newspaper is run by a bunch of ferals, activists and intellectuals, it makes for stimulating reading.' Stolle grinned. ‘I'll put some feelers out. If a deal has been done over that land, there'll be hell to pay.'

‘A resort there would be a disaster. Residential subdivision probably worse,' Mitchell said. ‘Services like the sewerage system can't cope with the people here already.'

Stolle looked angry. ‘Might be time to get out the green paint.'

Mitchell chuckled. ‘I heard that story soon after I bought here. When the council put in the first set of traffic lights and then a big clock in the main street, they kept being smothered in green paint.'

‘Council gave in then. No one seems to miss the lights or a clock,' said Stolle. ‘I'll have a word with the boys and girls at the
Bugle
. You mention it to Holly and see what pops out of those pretty lips of hers.'

Holly was thrilled with the glass etchings and began to plan where to put them. As they looked at possible settings for the exquisite panels, Mitchell casually remarked that Stolle had heard there were plans around for a big beachfront resort in town. ‘Rumours only, but where there's smoke –'

‘You're joking. One of those international resorts? Here? Where exactly?'

‘Rumour again, but the word is Mighty Beach. Be a bit of competition for the B & Bs and guesthouses, wouldn't it?'

‘I don't care about competition, Richmond House is unique. But a resort, even a sympathetic one, just doesn't seem right here. Maybe Andrew can find out who's involved. He has masses of contacts in the city. He can plug into almost anything for the cost of a lunch. Sometimes only for the cost of a phone call.'

Mitchell threw up his hands. ‘Hey, easy. It's just a rumour. Let's wait and see. But I'm impressed that you've already become a green-thinking guardian of The Bay.'

‘I know it's only been a few months, but you're right. I really care about this place,' she said softly. ‘I've asked my kids to come and visit, I want them to see what I'm doing. And, well, I miss them.' They both knew the spectre of Erica hovered for a moment.

‘I'm surprised they haven't been up before this, the place is a mecca for the sun–surf worshippers. My Tom finds any chance to get up here. He's around the same age as your kids. And they must be curious to see what you're up to‚' said Mitchell, convinced now that Holly knew nothing about any plans to develop the land at Mighty Beach.

In Sydney Letitia and Andrew sat at a candlelit dinner.

‘So when are you going to tell her?' asked Letitia, giving the red wine in her goblet a slightly agitated swirl.

‘Letty, I have to do this in my own way. She doesn't have a clue there's anything going on. She's so wrapped up in her little project at The Bay.'

‘Well, I'm not going on like this, flying down here every couple of weeks. You sneaking up there to see me. You're both too well-known in the area now. Sure we have a business arrangement, but that's a secret too. When can we have something out in the open?'

‘We did. Up in the dunes under the full moon a couple of weekends ago.'

She kicked him in the shins under the table.

‘Steady, kid!'

‘Get serious. When?'

He reached for her hand. ‘Letty, please be patient, just a while longer. This has been pretty dramatic for me. For both of us. When I met you in Bangkok six months ago I thought you were bright, beautiful and sexy, and then we discovered we were both up there exploring the market for venture capital. We think alike, Letty. We both want to get our share of the big bickies, and we are going to do very nicely out of this one, believe me.' He raised his glass in a toast, and gave her a big smile. ‘To our share, Letty, our share.' She returned his smile and they both sipped their wine.

‘It seemed like fate when Holly decided to move to your home town. I mean, what are the odds on that?' Andrew said as he topped up their drinks.

‘In Bay-speak they'd tell you we were meant to be,' said Letitia with a hint of a smile.

‘Yeah. But we can't let even a whisper of this get out. It could jeopardise the development. I don't want Holly rocking the boat.'

‘You said she'd have no claim on it!'

‘Financially, no. That's well covered, but she could cause problems with objections. Last thing I need is some forensic accountant prying into my affairs. They can untangle the most complicated offshore network.'

‘What's this “offshore” bit? Is it going to make that sort of money for you?'

‘It'll make a reasonable killing.'

‘It's risky. Why not try an enviro-friendly, low-key luxury resort?' Letitia asked.

‘It'll be enviro-friendly enough, and it's right up there with what the market wants. This concept is aimed at the next generation of grey power. That includes half the council for a start. We're hitting the world's biggest market: rich, retiring baby boomers.'

‘There's something I can't explain that's bugging me about this project,' said Letitia. ‘I can't put my finger on it, but the feeling is always there. Probably sounds stupid to you, but every time this scheme comes up on my daily agenda I feel odd, like . . .' her voice trailed off and she looked down in embarrassment.

‘Like what?' Andrew asked gently.

She took a deep breath. ‘Like someone is looking over my shoulder.' They both fell silent; Andrew was totally lost for words. ‘Well, say something,' she said finally, struggling to keep her voice down.

‘Okay. Once the signatures are on the contracts you'll feel on top of the world, believe me. Just think of dollar signs and the world will be instantly brighter. I've been down this path before.' He then expediently changed the subject. ‘By the way, I'll be back up there in a week or so. Holly has our kids visiting. I'd like to see the draft contracts while I'm there, how are they coming along? Our Thai friend is due out here soon.'

They began talking about some of the contractual details and Andrew immediately felt more relaxed. Whenever Letitia made even the slightest comment about their future together he tensed. Separating from Holly was in the too-hard basket and would stay there for quite a while. The young woman sitting opposite him was a nice little romance on the side, but letting a dalliance rip apart a marriage of over twenty years was an outcome he didn't want to think about.

‘Eddie? It's Cheyne here from the Dolphin Centre.'

‘Hi. What can I do for you?'

‘After watching you video Erica's funeral, it occurred to me you might be just the person we need to do a little filming for us.'

‘For the Dolphin Centre? Sure, I'd be interested. What did you have in mind?'

‘Actually, it's for the community. The Dolphin Centre is just part of the Creative Community Collective up here. We have a couple of projects under way, but before we launch them we'd like the wider public to know more about us as a group.'

Eddie had trouble making the connection. ‘I thought the Dolphin Centre was part of the Shahvanas?'

‘It was, then the Dolphin Centre broke away, becoming a commune of over a hundred hectares.' He went on to explain that while it had grown out of a quasi-religious group of followers of some late guru, the commune now used modern technology and entrepreneurial business ventures to enhance its diverse services and alternative lifestyle philosophy.

‘There are a lot of cults and groups in this area,' Eddie said.

‘The Bay's tolerance is part of the attraction. There's everything from Osho to the Raelians, to inspired individuals who believe they have the holy grail for peace, love and happiness. Wish it were so easy,' Cheyne chuckled.

‘So what's this collective?'

‘In a few words, thinking, caring people who share common values and a world view of how we want the future to be. There are people all over the world who think this way but feel invisible until they find like-minded people. Perhaps we don't necessarily agree on how to bring this about or put principles into practice, but by working and thinking together about how we lead our lives, we hope we might help bring about a wiser, saner life.'

Eddie grinned. ‘Sounds interesting. I guess I need to come and talk to you about it. Can you give me a hint about this project now?'

‘We'll show you the concept when you come up, get across what we want to say, and to whom. Then you can work out a filming budget for us, okay?'

‘Sure. How about next Wednesday morning?'

‘Good one. Ten am.'

‘Ten it is.'