Page 59 of Nothing Without You

Chapter Sixty-Eight

When she stood on the ferry as it pulled away from the old wooden jetty and turned towards the east, memories came flooding back. She tilted her head up and let the wind sweep across her face. Her hair flew in every direction as the cool sea breeze rushed past her. If only the memories of Bob and the past several years could be swept away with the wind. A sailing boat pulled out beside the ferry, its crew of sailors standing and waving as they let out the sails. A gust of wind blew them quickly forward, and she smiled as she watched them working hard to keep the boat on course.

The ferry cut easily through the silky water, the soft hues of a twilight sky reflecting from its surface. Small waves flicked up white foam, and she leaned over as two dolphins raced alongside. As a child, she would have been excited and yelled out to her father to come and have a look. Now, there was nobody to share the moment with. She leaned her chin on her hands, peering out across the bay. It felt good to put water between her and everyone else. Perhaps Rose was right, and the island would give her a fresh start, along with time for her mind to absorb everything that had happened. Perhaps she would find some sort of peace in her troubled soul.

When the shuttle bus dropped her off in front of The Magic Fish, she stood for a long time on the footpath. The sound of the bus faded into the distance, its next drop-off point further along at Amity Point. Stradbroke didn’t seem much different from when she was here as a kid. There were a couple more houses in the street, but The Magic Fish looked the same. The veranda rails and posts of the timber cottage had been painted yellow, a contrast to the timber boards of the exterior front wall. Criss-crossed bracing timbers decorated the wall, and the front door was painted yellow with green trims, exactly as it had been so many years ago. A couple of shrubs grew on either side of the four steps at the front, and majestic weeping paperbark trees grew in a row, just inside the front picket fence.

Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes. There were so many memories —so long ago—and so much had happened since. The front gate creaked as she pushed it open and walked up the path.

The key was under the mat, precisely where she was told it would be. A cleaner had been in, leaving it immaculate. All she had to do was to make herself at home. There was linen and towels, cutlery and plates, and basic furniture for her to use. Rose had passed Chris’s message on to her. ‘Tell her to settle in. I appreciate that someone will be there, and it’s not sitting empty.’

She wouldn’t have accepted the offer, except for the fact that he was overseas and not due back for a couple of months. ‘They’re setting up a factory in California, so he needs to be there to oversee everything, and then stay on to make sure it runs smoothly. He’s away a lot. He’s rich,’ Rose told her.

She didn’t care what or where he was, as long as she didn’t have to face him. At least by the time he came back, she should be on her feet and ready to move on to somewhere else. Where that was, right now she didn’t know.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chris thought someone had died when Rose rang him. No one from his family phoned when he was overseas. It cost too much, and often you just couldn’t get through. The conversation had replayed in his mind for a long while after he got off the phone. ‘She’s a mess, Chris. Down and out, but bloody lucky to be alive. Some drug gang killed this fella Bob, who she’s been with for years. He sounds as though he was an arsehole anyway. Belted her around. I don’t think she’s so upset about him dying, it’s more that she has nothing and no direction in her life, or a place to go. She doesn’t want to involve her parents.’

‘Make her stay at Point Lookout. With five bedrooms, a spa and every luxury she’d want, she can spoil herself.’

‘I don’t think she will. I’m ringing because I wondered if The Magic Fish was empty.’

‘Yes, it is. I took it off the rental list because there’re a few maintenance jobs to be done, and it needs a coat of paint. It’s small, Rose. She’d be better at Point Lookout.’

‘There’s no way she’ll stay at the big house. I’m going to have trouble convincing her to take anything from you. I’m not sure what happened between the two of you, and I hate to say it, but she doesn’t want to see you at all. Lucky you’re overseas.’

‘Why wouldn’t she want to see me? I talked to her at the wedding.’

‘She’s ashamed of her past life. I’m telling you, she’s been through the wringer and, like all of us, made some shitty decisions.’

He hoped that Rose would be able to convince Evie to stay at The Magic Fish. It was one of several homes he owned on the island. His business had done so well that he had to do something with his money, and buying property seemed like a good investment. The island had also become his refuge, a place to escape, away from the crowded beaches of the Gold Coast and California where he had set up factories and shops for his expanding surfboard business.

It was the nineties, and with the recent recession finally over, the economy was booming. Young people were flocking to the beautiful beaches that encircled Australia, and Chris was riding that wave with them, supplying not only the big names of the surfing world with their winning boards, but also every other board rider who wanted a Vivre board. He was at the forefront when it came to design, technology and craftsmanship, and he still had plenty of innovative ideas buzzing around his mind.

He leaned back on a cabana lounge on Huntington Beach, watching the flocks of people in front of him, sunbaking or swimming in the ocean. It was the perfect place, with the Pacific Ocean delivering superb swells and, at certain times of the year, steep curling waves that drew surfers from all over the world.

Behind him, people walked or roller skated along the concrete esplanade, a few spindly palm trees throwing the only shade. He wondered if the beaches along Australia’s coastline would one day become as popular, filled with surfers and holidaymakers. He hoped not. This spot was great for business, but too busy for his liking. The area was also fast becoming home to the rich and famous, with condos and other tall buildings taking over from the original low-set bungalows that still appeared sporadically in between the large concrete structures.

At night, the place came alive even more, with hordes of people flocking to the precinct to enjoy the many bars and restaurants. It was a perfect setting for his new shop, but it wasn’t where he wanted to stay. Travelling overseas had been a novelty to start with. But now he was bored. Uninterested in the women who tried to hang off his arm and gain his attention, he was tired of the endless parties, dancing and drinking that seemed to go hand-in-hand with the elite of the surfing crowd.

At Stradbroke, he didn’t need to go to any flash bars or drink until the sun came up. Thinking about Evie being at The Magic Fish by herself, he was envious. How stupid was that, when he owned the place? That house and the others were always there for him to live in at any time. But he became restless when he stayed there. His sisters told him he needed a girlfriend, but he had been in relationships a few times. He got bored with them. He knew it wasn’t the fault of the girls he dated. It was his problem. Cold, emotionless, detached. Something was missing.

Chapter Seventy

Early morning summer sunlight streamed in through the bedroom window, waking Evie just before five o’clock. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, remembering all the times she had slept in this very bedroom. Now, though, she was no longer an innocent child or a teenager who just wanted to search for pipis and go fishing in the afternoon. Now she had responsibilities. She needed a job. And money.

The cleaner had left a basket of food. The attached card read, ‘Compliments of the owner.’

Evie put the food items in the cupboard, the tea and coffee on the bench, and the bottle of wine in the fridge with the milk, butter and jam. Chris had been in touch with the caretaker, and he seemed to have thought of everything. She would keep a tally of what he provided and pay him back when she got a job. She made a list of what he had bought. That way she wouldn’t owe anyone anything. If there was one thing she had learned, it was not to rely on others. Now she was going to be a solo player. No men. No family and, a heavy sadness filled her, no friends. She had no friends. She had lost contact with them all when she moved, and in all the years she lived in Yeppoon, she had only made friends with Baker and Matilda. Her life had been taken up with work, and trying to avoid the jealousy and wrath of Bob. If not for her mother’s wedding, she wouldn’t even have had contact with Chris and his sisters.

It was strange sitting at the same kitchen table having a cup of tea, as she did as a kid. Only the beds were new. The daybed and other chairs and tables were all still the same. When she sat on the front steps and leaned back on the rough veranda floorboards, she closed her eyes and soaked in the ambience. The sun warmed her arms and legs, and she revelled in its touch. When she sat up, she looked up into the limbs of the weeping paperbark trees that lined the front yard. They had grown, their branches and canopy stretching out, providing shade and a perfect place to sit. Maybe she would put the recliner chair from the veranda under them this afternoon and read a book. There were two shelves of books in the lounge room and she had looked at them this morning. What would it be like to spend a day just reading a book?

Grabbing an apple from the fridge, she made her way out of the house, up the path and through the front gate. She munched as she walked, forcing herself to eat something. The trouble was she wasn’t hungry. If she didn’t eat until the afternoon, she didn’t care. No wonder she looked thin. Maybe the sea air would make her appetite return.

When she reached the end of the sandy path, she stopped. There, on the stretch of beach in front of her, was where she had her first kiss. She could still feel the coolness of the evening breeze that night, the gentle caress of Chris’s lips against hers, and the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around her. Her favourite floral dress had been firm on her body, and she could visualise the thick cotton fabric adorned with large printed flowers. She hugged herself; memories. Memories of a beautiful childhood, before everything had collapsed around her. It was all so long ago, and so much water had flowed under the bridge since.

The sand was warm under her feet, and she pulled her hat further down on her head as she made her way down to the water. The cool waves splashed over her feet, the sinking sand soft underfoot as she wriggled them looking for pipis. Maybe there was still a fishing rod in the shed? She popped a plump pipi into her pocket, its wet shape soon to be followed by a dozen or so more. There was no one on the beach as far as she could see. Overhead, a small plane flew past, its wings dipping as it turned and veered out over the ocean. The ocean was as she always remembered. The water was so clear you could see through the depths to the sand below and she spotted a school of either bream or dart, speeding through the curl of a wave. The waves’ cylindrical shapes pounded on the beach, each set bringing in a fresh surge of water over her feet. She lost track of time, her mind focussed on the water and the waves, as she stared out to sea.

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