The Three Miss Allens, page 8
‘First time in a long time, but yeah. I slept like a log.’
Addy didn’t answer but kept eating.
‘Addy … you’ve lost weight since the last time I saw you.’
She shrugged her dressing-gown closer around her. ‘I’ve been working hard. It happens to me on a film.’
‘Is everything okay?’
Addy blinked and a long-buried shame rose to her throat. She swallowed hard. Roma remembered. Of course Roma remembered. She was the one who’d confronted Addy about the empty blister packs of laxatives she’d found stuffed under the bed behind Addy’s suitcase, the summer they were sixteen. And when Addy had fought back, denied it, accused Roma of prying, of snooping, of being a goody-two-shoes, of being jealous of her because she was thin, Roma had resisted the insults and called Addy’s mother. Dr McNamara had driven down to Remarkable Bay in her shiny black BMW and snatched Addy back to the city. Addy was never sure what her mother had been more horrified about—that her daughter was on the verge of a full-blown eating disorder, or that she hadn’t seen it herself. Of course her mother hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t been looking and Addy had become an expert at hiding it. One thing her mother did do right was find a good therapist, and eventually, with time, she’d pulled back from the brink.
That was the last summer she and Roma spent together at Remarkable Bay. She could never have admitted it then, but Roma had saved her. She’d refused to keep Addy’s secret. She’d hated Roma for a long time for revealing her secret, for humiliating her in front of her mother, for splitting open the glass bauble of her perfection. She’d felt betrayed, exposed and so, so embarrassed.
Now, she could see things in a different light. She realised just then, staring at the enormous breakfast that Roma had prepared for her, that Roma had actually saved her life. That realisation only compounded the terrible guilt she’d felt at not being there for Roma when Tom had died. Addy lowered her head to hide the flush she felt in her cheeks, slowly picked up her knife and fork, and ate some more.
Roma got the signal. She didn’t push it. ‘Coffee, tea or juice?’
‘Coffee, thanks. With that full-fat cow’s milk of yours.’ Addy smiled. This really was damn good. ‘Thanks for breakfast.’
‘Any time.’
A moment later, there was a mug of steaming coffee on the table in front of her.
‘Hey, my thongs just broke.’ Addy scooped up a forkful of mushrooms and sighed when she tasted balsamic vinegar and olive oil. ‘Will I have to drive in to Victor Harbor to get a new pair? A good pair, I mean?’
Roma shook her head. ‘The surf shop’s still here. The one down at the end of Ocean Street.’
‘The same one from a million years ago?’
Roma confirmed it with a nod. ‘Although I don’t know what kind of business they do over the winter. Or over the summer, to be honest. You’ve seen what Remarkable Bay is like these days.’
Addy couldn’t miss Roma’s longing look at the last piece of bacon and pushed her plate across the table.
Roma snatched it up and smiled. ‘I could never be a vegetarian.’
‘Me neither. I’m going to shower and change and then head to the surf shop. When I get back, I’ll help you.’
‘See you when you get back.’
Half an hour later, Addy walked down Ocean Street, past the bakery and the pharmacy to the surf shop. It felt like entering the twilight zone. Nothing much had changed. The window looked like every surf shop in every coastal town in Australia: filled with surfboards, T-shirts and surf posters.
Addy pushed her way through the plastic strips hanging over the door. A bell tinkled and she was inside. There were more posters of strong men spinning their boards on killer waves. There was a rack of bodyboards right by the entrance, a decently stocked clothes section and a large display of Brazilian thongs next to other casual shoes, wallets and handbags. Above the counter, mounted on the wall, was a large TV playing surf videos with the sound muted.
A voice called out, ‘If you need anything, give me a yell.’
She hadn’t noticed the man behind the counter when she’d entered the shop. She looked over. His hands were flat on the counter top, which hunched his shoulders a little so he looked like he was shrugging, and there was a friendly smile on his tanned face. He was looking right at her. It gave her a little shimmer. The memory of a shimmer.
She pointed in the direction of the thong display. ‘I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.’
‘No worries,’ he said and his eyebrows rose quickly as he lifted his jaw. He watched her, his arms crossed over his chest now, his hair surfer blond and messy, as she snaked her way through the shop. She stopped at the racks of women’s clothing, flicked through the hangars as she assessed which colours might suit her, and found an ocean blue T-shirt with a scoop neck. She looped her arm through the hangar and checked out the thongs. She found her size, chose navy blue with a gold strap, and went to the counter. She placed the items on the glass. Surfer guy must have been watching her the whole time because he was still in the same position, like a stone sentinel, calm and unmoving.
‘I’ll take these, thanks.’
‘Sure.’ He removed the top from the hanger, folded it carefully, twisted the plastic tag off the thongs, and slipped them all into a big paper bag he’d pulled up from under the counter. He propped the bag upright and smiled at her. Everything he did was at a pace Addy could only describe as chilled. In fact, everything about him looked chilled.
‘You paying cash or card?’ he murmured.
‘Card.’ Addy retrieved her purse from her handbag and did the swipe thing with the black machine on the counter.
‘Receipt in the bag or …?’ His big blue eyes were the same colour as the T-shirt she’d just bought.
‘Yeah, in the bag is fine.’ He slipped the printed receipt into the bag and pushed it across the counter.
‘All yours.’
There was something about his smile that Addy wanted to bottle. She found herself needing to look at it a little longer. She hadn’t been smiled at like that, with that kind of mellow, don’t-give-a-shit interest, in a really long time. She grabbed the string handles of the bag and then paused, smiled, looked around the shop. ‘This place hasn’t changed in years.’
He straightened. ‘You been here before?’
‘I used to spend summers in the Bay. A long time ago. I mean, twenty years ago. And this place was always my first stop.’
‘Thanks for being a regular,’ he said with a grin. ‘I appreciate your business.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Addy replied with a laugh. ‘I’m surprised the shop’s still here, to be honest. It must be tough going running a business in Remarkable Bay.’
Surfer guy shrugged. ‘Summer keeps me going. Winter’s pretty dead. But I can surf every day and I live out the back, so, you know, there are worse ways to make a living.’
‘Doesn’t sound too bad at all.’
He paused, studied her face. ‘I probably served you back then.’
‘Really?’
‘This used to be my parents’ shop. I worked here in the summer. When they retired, I bought the business.’
‘Well.’ Addy thought back, wondered what he looked like back then, in the 1990s. She had a sudden horrifying thought.
‘You didn’t, by any chance, have dreadlocks, did you?’
He chuckled. ‘Nope.’
Thank god for that.
Surfer guy shifted, crossed his arms again. ‘So it’s not holiday season now. What brings you back to the Bay?’
Addy looked around the shop. There were no other customers. ‘My cousin bought Bayview, you know, that old place at the end of Ocean Street? She’s renovating it and I’m staying with her.’
‘It’s good to see it being saved. It’s been a dump for years.’
‘Yeah, well … that’s Roma for you. She likes a challenge.’
They looked at each other for a long moment. Addy really liked his eyes and his full lips and the way his gaze settled on her mouth.
‘Well,’ she finally said when it appeared he wasn’t going to say anything more. ‘Thanks for this.’
‘Any time.’
As she slid a hand through the plastic strips at the front door, she turned at the sound of his voice.
‘Hey, what’s your name?’
Her heart thudded a little faster. ‘Addy.’ Then she added after a pause. ‘McNamara.’
‘Blake Stapleton. Welcome back.’
Addy lifted a hand and gave him a little wave. He nodded and grinned back at her.
On Sunday morning Roma and Addy had risen early and walked to the beach, where they’d wet their feet in the still-chilly waves and the cool sand. They took a round trip up to the other end of the beach, up the far steps and then back onto Ocean Street. It was about three quarters of an hour all up, just enough of a casual saunter to whet their appetites, which they were planning to sate at the bakery. Yesterday’s fry-up seemed to have awakened Addy’s appetite and she craved something sticky.
As they approached, someone came out of the bakery. It was Connor Stapleton. Before she could suggest to Addy that they slink away, he lifted his sunglasses, propped them on his head and smiled. No suit today, but jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt pushed up his forearms.
‘Hey Roma.’ There was altogether too much enthusiasm in his voice.
‘Hi, Connor.’
Roma didn’t have to look at Addy to know she had questions in her eyes. Before she copped another sharp jab in the ribs, she motioned to Addy. ‘Connor, this is my cousin, Addy.’
‘Connor.’ He held out a hand and Addy slipped hers into his big fingers.
’Pleased to meet you,’ she said. ‘How do you two know each other?’
Roma had lost her appetite for cake. ‘Connor lives next door.’
‘Oh, how lovely,’ Addy said.
‘With his family,’ Roma clarified.
Connor smiled. ‘Just my son. And meeting you solves our neighbourhood mystery.’
Roma and Addy exchanged glances.
‘Angas told me he saw someone stealing lemons from the tree in our backyard on Friday.’ He didn’t even try to contain his grin.
Addy’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, shit. I didn’t think anyone was home. There was no car in the driveway.’
‘I was in court,’ Connor said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Angas must have picked that exact moment to pry his eyes away from his computer screen to see some, and I quote, “weird red-headed lady” nicking lemons.’
Addy laughed out loud and threw her head back. Roma stepped back from the bantering conversation between her cousin and her neighbour. Addy could commit a crime in broad daylight and still charm everyone. Roma still envied her mysterious skill.
‘Guilty as charged, Your Honour. What was a gal to do? We were in desperate need of a gin and tonic.’
Roma looked away but turned when she felt a hand on her arm.
‘How’s the reno going?’ Connor asked.
‘Good. It’s going well. Thanks.’
‘It’s looking wonderful,’ Addy interrupted. ‘You really should come over and have a look. Roma’s done an amazing job with it.’
‘I’d like to. I had a look through when it was on the market so it’d be great to see what you’ve done with it.’
‘Sure,’ Roma said.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Addy. See you soon, Roma.’
It took a whole two minutes for Addy to ask. They’d gone into the shop and while Roma studied the display, Addy leaned over and whispered in Roma’s ear.
‘So?’ she demanded.
‘So what?’ But she knew what the so was all about.
‘When were you going to tell me about Connor?’
‘There’s nothing to tell. He’s my neighbour. And he’s the man you stole lemons from. I can’t believe you did that. That is mortifying. I thought you’d bought them when you did the grocery shopping.’
‘Oh, come on, Romes. There were so many that half the crop is on the ground. I knew he wouldn’t mind. He seems quite lovely. What do you know about him?’
‘Not much.’
‘Well, we know he’s a single man. He said it himself. Rather directly, if you remember, that there’s just him and his son. He looks the right side of forty. And he mentioned something about being in court? I hope he’s a lawyer or a magistrate or something and not a criminal or traffic offender.’
They placed their orders and, a few minutes later, walked out of the bakery carrying a bag each.
Roma shrugged. ‘I don’t know what Connor does for a living. I didn’t ask.’
Addy pulled Roma to a stop in the middle of Ocean Street. ‘Can you tell me why you have no curiosity about the lovely looking man who lives next door and can’t seem to keep his eyes off you?’
Roma continued walking. ‘Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t a movie. There’s no meet-cute happening here. He lives next door, that’s all.’
‘Really? You didn’t see it? The way he looked at you?’
‘You’ve been working in the movies too long. He was just being nice.’
Roma would never admit it to Addy, but she had seen it, had felt it, but desperately wished she hadn’t.
Addy slipped an arm through Roma’s as they walked. ‘I think he was being more than nice to you. Pity for me. He’s rather nice looking.’
‘Go for it, Addy. He’s all yours.’
Addy chuckled. ‘Oh, I don’t think so.’
As Bayview came into view, Addy tugged Roma towards the stretch of lawn across the road and they sat on the grass and ate their sticky buns, their legs kicked out in front of them. A flock of demanding seagulls landed noisily, and waited expectantly. Roma thought about her dog, Charlie. The only time he ever sat still was when food was being dangled in front of his nose. She’d lost him two years after Tom; the disobedient golden retriever had slept on her bed every night after Tom died.
‘So,’ Addy said, brushing crumbs from her jeans onto the grass. ‘What do we do now we’re exercised, fed and watered? Give me a job, damn it.’
Roma studied her. ‘You really want something to do?’
‘Of course I do.’
Roma thought on it. ‘The cupboard downstairs at the end of the hallway, on the left by the laundry. I’ve been too scared to unlock it. I had this horrible thought that all the smells in the house were emanating from something inside. Do you want to have a look and see what’s in there?’
Addy screwed up her nose. ‘If there are any dead rats, I’m checking in to the nearest motel.’
Roma’s work continued. When they arrived home, she changed into her painting gear and got back to work on her bedroom. Yesterday’s coat had dried well and now it was time for the second.
She cranked up her favourite songs, picked up her brush and began cutting in the corners for the second coat.
Half an hour later, just as she was about to pick up the paint roller and really start to transform the room, her music cut out mid-song. She turned to see Addy across the room holding something in her hands, something that looked like an old book. She was coughing, and seemed to be standing in a cloud of dust.
‘What’s that?’ Roma asked her from across the room.
Addy walked across the drop sheets, looking down to make sure she didn’t trip. ‘It was in the cupboard you asked me to clean out. The damn thing was painted shut with about ten different colours of paint, but I finally managed to pry it open with a chisel from your toolbox. I may accidentally have chipped the frame while doing it but it’s open. And—good news—no rats. A few too many daddy-long-legs for my liking, but nothing a kiloton of insect spray couldn’t deal with. So, when I got the door open I found this. It had slipped down the back of one of the bottom shelves and got wedged.’
Roma put her roller on its tray at her feet and stepped over it to Addy to take a closer look. She wiped the dust and spider webs from the cover to reveal embossed gold lettering.
‘It’s a guest book,’ Roma said. ‘What on earth was that doing in the cupboard?’ She pressed her fingers to the cover, felt it cool and worn under the layer of dust obscuring the letters on the front.
‘It looks like leather,’ Addy noted. She blew some more dust away with a quick exhalation of breath and carefully opened the heavy cover. There on the first page, handwritten in delicate and intricate cursive, were the words:
Welcome to Bayview. 1934.
‘Bayview,’ Roma said, moving closer to Addy so she could see it closer. ‘This used to be a guesthouse back in the day. That’s why there are so many bedrooms.’ She felt an excitement growing within her. ‘Turn the page. Let’s see who stayed here.’
‘What if it was someone famous? C’mon, smartypants,’ Addy teased. ‘Who was alive in 1934?’
Roma thought for half a moment. ‘Bradman. Dame Nellie Melba. Roy Rene. Squizzy Taylor.’
‘Okay. I know one of those people.’ Addy gently turned over the frontispiece and flicked through the book. There was page after page of names and addresses and dates on heavy paper. Roma skimmed them, making out the names of suburbs and towns she knew: North Adelaide. Kensington. Gilberton. Mt Gambier. Mt Compass. Lyndoch.
Addy flipped back to the first page. ‘This is incredible. It’s in such great condition. It must have been stuffed in that cupboard decades ago.’
Roma ran a finger down the list of names. ‘Wait a minute. Look at this. It’s… oh my god. Mr and Mrs Charles Allen. December 27th, 1934. Are they, could it be, our great-great-grandparents?’ When she deciphered the name underneath it, she laughed in delight. ‘Look at this. “Miss Ruby Allen”. My great-grandmother!’
Addy giggled in giddy excitement, too. ‘There she is. Miss Adeline Allen. My great-grandmother. Hell, I wish my parents had chosen Adeline instead of Adelaide. How could they do that to a girl growing up in Adelaide, huh?’
Roma didn’t lift her eyes from the list of names. ‘Oh stop. It’s a beautiful name.’
Addy nudged Roma with her shoulder good-naturedly. She leaned over and traced an index finger over her great-grandmother’s name. ‘She should have been an actress with a name like that, don’t you think? “The winner of the Best Actress Oscar is Adeline Allen”. I don’t think she was anything. Just a mother and a housewife.’
