Before the Storm Read online

  ‘Did you work with the Americans at all?’ asked Mike.

  ‘Yes. We had a unit seconded to us. Didn’t get our sense of humour at all.’ Patrick chuckled. ‘We were waiting at the Aussie base camp for an aircraft and one of our group had a big feather he’d picked up in the jungle. We were admiring it, and one of the Americans asked what was so special about that feather. Quick as a flash my mate says, “It’s a kangaroo feather, mate.” The guy looks dubious and says it’s the first time he’s heard of kangaroos having feathers. So my mate goes on that they’re rare because ’roos only had a couple at the end of their tails. The feathers helped them stay on course during very long leaps. And he went on recounting some of those huge daring leaps and pretty soon the chap wants to buy the feather. Our mate says aw, no, his mum gave it to him as a good luck charm.’ As Mike and Ellie laughed, Patrick went on, ‘Well, he parted with it for twenty bucks, saying, “Jeez, my mum’d kill me if she knew what I was doing!” Yep. We got a lot of entertainment from those guys.’

  ‘Did you get close to any action?’ Mike put his glass down and leaned forward.

  Patrick looked away, saying quietly, ‘Too close. Too often. At one point in ninety days I made sixty-two hazardous flights, hitching around in twenty different types of aircraft. Once I was in a chopper, three foot above ground and about to land, when we discovered it was a minefield. Another time I missed a flight and was cursing myself for losing a story, only to find out the aircraft had gone down and I lost some good mates. I was a wreck on tranquillisers and sleeping pills for weeks after that. I did a few more tours overseas, Japan and India, then I

  met your nana, Ellie.’ He smiled softly. ‘Best thing that ever happened to me. We moved here when Sandy was a toddler, and I retired early to take on the Chronicle. I couldn’t bear to see it fold up. Since Ellie’s nan died it’s kept me going.’

  Patrick drained his glass and put it down. ‘Right. Enough of my old ramblings. I’m off to bed. Good to meet you, Mike, come any time.’

  Mike stood and warmly shook his hand. ‘A real honour to meet you, Patrick. I mean it. You’re an inspiration, I have to say.’

  Patrick patted his arm. ‘You’re just trying to get in my good books. G’night, Poss. It was a lovely evening and meal.’ He blew her a kiss. ‘You coming, Sam . . .? Nope, fickle dog. You’ll come slinking back to my bed when our guest has left.’ He waved and headed indoors.

  ‘What an amazing man,’ said Mike softly. ‘You’re lucky to have him as a mentor and a buddy.’

  ‘I know,’ Ellie replied. ‘He’s been so special in my life and I respect his advice. Though I don’t always take it, I s’pose.’

  ‘Mmm, he’s like a wise owl,’ said Mike, and yawned. ‘Well, I’d better head back to the Cottage.’

  ‘Take it easy driving up there. Thanks for your help tonight. And for listening to Poppy’s yarns. He doesn’t get a chance to reflect back like that too often.’

  ‘I loved it.’ Mike reached over and gave her a hug. ‘See you tomorrow, I’ll leave a bit after lunch.’

  ‘Mike, I really enjoyed today. See you in the morning.’

  He gave a salute as he got into his car.

  Ellie nudged Sam. ‘C’mon, off you go for a quick walk. Then it’s bedtime.’

  *

  Tuesday morning, Patrick was having breakfast when he shouted to Ellie, ‘Come quick! Sally’s on the radio about the land deal again!’

  Ellie raced into the kitchen from the sewing room study and turned up the volume on the radio.

  ‘. . . and so, a source in the Storm Harbour Council reports that an application for a permit to access and develop the land next to the Botanic Gardens, currently leased by the council as a caravan park, will be formally lodged once certain formalities with the land are dealt with. Our source reveals that a developer wishes to build luxury townhouses along the riverfront. The application will have to go through the proper procedures, including being put to a council meeting, before it can be approved. The council media manager did not return our calls . . .’

  ‘Who the heck is leaking this to Sally?’ said Ellie.

  ‘Not sure, but no wonder Meredith is frustrated. Her suspicions were right, it seems; there are people who have an idea of what’s going on and they are keeping it from her,’ said Patrick. ‘Why don’t you ask Sally?’

  Together they headed into the Chronicle office. Maggie was already there, the kettle whistling.

  ‘Morning, Patrick, Ellie. Gosh, did you hear Sally’s report? Do you think she’s right?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘Good morning, Maggie,’ said Patrick. ‘If I trained her properly she wouldn’t be blathering on with unsubstantiated rumours, so she probably is correct.’

  Jon was on their heels. ‘Morning all. What’s going on? Don’t tell me Sally scooped us again.’

  ‘No. She didn’t. When we have the full story, we’ll go to press,’ said Patrick firmly, striding into his office. ‘So in the meantime, hop to it, Jon. Go back to your sources in council and around the town,’ called Patrick.

  Jon grinned at Maggie. ‘He’s cranky.’

  ‘Taught young Sally everything she knows,’ Maggie said. ‘How was your dinner party, Ellie?’

  ‘Terrific. Poppy enjoyed himself. Did a bit of reminiscing.’

  ‘I love his stories of the old days,’ said Jon. ‘He should write a memoir. Oh, here are the papers.’

  As he spoke a delivery driver backed through the door, pushing a trolley stacked with bundles of papers.

  ‘Howdy, where do you want ’em? The usual?’

  ‘In the storeroom, thanks, Alan, and leave a bundle here, please,’ said Maggie as Jon grabbed a pair of scissors to snap the plastic tie binding the fifty papers together. They each took a copy.

  ‘Wow, the layout looks great. The new designer we’re trying out really knows what she’s doing,’ said Jon.

  ‘Is that the paper?’ called Patrick, walking into the room to collect one.

  Even though the paper came out three times a week, there was always excitement as each edition arrived from the printers in the larger town nearby. They spread open the paper and pored over the pages.

  ‘The two new advertisers should be happy with their pages,’ said Maggie.

  ‘Your capture of the crab thief story looks good, Jono,’ said Ellie. ‘How’d you get a photo of him being arrested?’

  Jon winked. ‘I have a friendly face in the force. Dropped me a hint and as it happened I was five minutes away. With my camera. So what’s Sally’s scoop?’

  ‘She had a follow-up on the rumour about the land at the river: apparently an application to develop the caravan park land as luxury townhouses is about to be lodged,’ answered Maggie.

  Jon looked surprised. ‘Wow. None of my sources had anything to tell me before. If a formal application is lodged, though, then it should be easier to get more solid information. I’ll get on it.’

  ‘Yes. Great to have something concrete like an application after all the smoke and mirrors. Let’s get cracking,’ Patrick said, looking at Jon then Ellie.

  ‘So who’s going to talk to Sally?’ asked Maggie as Patrick went back into his cubicle.

  ‘Ellie, you know her,’ said Jon. ‘Sally and I have kind of become sparring rivals. In a sort-of-friendly way. You might have more luck.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll talk to Ben first,’ said Ellie thoughtfully. ‘He said he’s been hanging out with Sally a bit. He’s probably almost finished that carving. It’s brilliant.’

  Late that afternoon Ellie swung past the house to collect Sam and headed to the Main Beach picnic ground. She found Ben walking around the mother seal and pups, looking thoughtful.

  ‘Oh, wow, Ben! Is it done?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I have to sit and look at it for a bit. Before it gets oiled and polished.’

  ‘It’s quit
e something, Ben. You have such a talent. Do you paint or do other art? Why did you decide on wood carving?’

  ‘I dabble in things. When I settle down someplace with a studio I might get into more into painting. One day I just saw a tree that’d come down in a storm, and I could “see” exactly what was inside it. It’s like each tree has a creature at its heart.’ He looked at the sculpture a moment longer and then turned to Ellie. ‘So, how’re you doing?’ He bent down and patted Sam.

  ‘Oh, good, thanks. We heard Sally on the radio this morning, she’s really going for it. I hope she’s on sure ground over this caravan park thing. And I hope it’s not true.’

  ‘She says she’s on top of it.’

  ‘What do you know about it? The land was in your family, or is it still? I thought council just leased it.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have a clue. Not that I wouldn’t be interested,’ he added. ‘But, well, I’m not around much, so I’m not told anything. You could ask my father when he’s back. I wouldn’t waste your time going to anyone else, if I were you. They won’t tell you anything.’

  ‘What about Sally?’ How does she find out what’s going on?’

  ‘She only knows what some staff person in council is leaking to her. Honestly, Ellie, I don’t know who it is,’ Ben said.

  ‘Well, when we know details, we might have to see if we can all work together. I’d hate to see the caravan park go under for a few townhouses,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Yeah, me too. But people with money would like them.’

  ‘Might have to get people out to protest,’ said Ellie.

  Ben shook his head. ‘Good luck with trying to get people to march in the streets in protest in this town. It’s always the nimbys versus the progressives, but mind your manners. This is Storm Harbour, don’t you know?’ He gave a short laugh.

  ‘Maybe you’re right.’ Ellie called to Sam, who had wandered into the bushes, sniffing about. ‘Well, tell Sally good on her for breaking the news!’

  ‘Okay. Let me know how things go. See ya round.’

  Ellie and Sam walked on, Ellie completely lost in her thoughts. Without realising where she was headed, she eventually found herself at the caravan park. Ellie saw Cassie sitting on the step outside their demountable office, her head in her hands.

  ‘Cassie?’ she called softly.

  The other woman looked up. ‘Hi, Ellie. Sorry, I’m a wreck. You’ve heard the latest?’

  ‘Only what the local radio had to say. Have you heard anything official?’

  ‘Nothing, but all these rumours are so unsettling. We figured we’d be the first to be told if we were about to be turfed out. Or if it was even a possibility.’

  ‘Yes, you’d think so.’

  ‘We were sure we’d found our dream. We’ve had our struggles. Being here we thought we’d made it through the hard times and out the other side. It felt like a sort of prize after sitting in the proverbial darkness for months and months,’ said Cassie.

  ‘Well, my grandfather has the Chronicle on the case too,’ said Ellie, grateful that she might be able to ease Cassie’s mind on this point at least. ‘He’ll get to the bottom of it.’

  Cassie shook her head sadly. ‘Hard to fight the big end of town if there’s any truth to it. And why?’

  ‘Money,’ said Ellie with a sigh.

  ‘Ugh. I know, but I thought we’d all learned that money doesn’t buy you health, life, love, luck . . .’

  ‘Which is why we can’t let them go back to those old days where money rules. Values have changed.’

  ‘Except for the rich,’ said Cassie bitterly.

  ‘Move over.’ Ellie sat on the step as Cassie made room. ‘How is Steve taking this?’

  ‘He’s worried. He contacted council as soon as we heard but hasn’t been able to find out anything yet. Our biggest worry is for the residents living here. This is their home and I’m not sure where any of them could go if we have to close.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘And we’d have to move back in with my parents, I guess.’

  Ellie put her arm around Cassie’s shoulders. ‘Hey! Don’t jump ahead too fast. Like I said, we want to help you. Can you tell me what the deal is that you and Steve have here?’

  ‘Deal? Nothing special. We moved here because we love the area and we had a few ideas for businesses we could run, but then when we saw that the old caravan park manager had retired we went to the council and applied to take over the lease. Steve will know the nitty-gritty of the lease deal.’ Cassie was quiet for a moment, then said, ‘Coming here, we thought we’d found our own paradise. It’s friendly and safe.’

  ‘That’s true. Do you lock your door at night?’ asked Ellie. ‘We don’t.’

  ‘Only if we have some out of towners passing through who seem a bit suss. Though we always lock the office, of course,’ said Cassie.

  ‘I don’t know whether to just enjoy the fact that we’re cushioned from the ugly side of life here, or if it’s time to get back into the real, dog-eat-dog world.’ Ellie sighed. ‘Do you miss the bright lights of the big smoke?’ She looked at Cassie. ‘Why did you and Steve move away from the city?’

  Cassie hesitated, a tear spilling from her eyes. Ellie reached out to touch her hand.

  ‘Cassie, sorry, you don’t have to elaborate,’ began Ellie, suddenly aware she’d hit a nerve.

  ‘Oh it’s not just the thought of being uprooted again after . . . We . . . we had a bit of a hard time, before coming here.’

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ asked Ellie gently.

  Cassie took a deep breath. ‘We had a stillborn baby, Ava. She only lived a few hours, but I think of her every day. So Steve wanted to move away, as if we could leave the pain behind.’

  Ellie was stunned. ‘Oh Cassie, I had no idea . . . I’m so, so sorry. How terrible for you both . . .’ She squeezed Cassie’s hand. ‘How long ago did this happen? Or would you rather not talk about it?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Cassie said. ‘I don’t mind talking about her. Otherwise, it’s like she didn’t exist. She was so perfect . . .’ A tear ran down her cheek.

  Ellie leaned forward and said softly, ‘Do you want to tell me about her? You called her Ava?’

  Cassie nodded. ‘After my grandmother, who I adored.’

  ‘Who did she look like?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘So much like my grandmother! Though we had the name picked out before we even saw her . . .’

  Ellie listened as Cassie talked and talked, her eyes bright with memories. But then she slowly wound down, her words growing quieter, her eyes dimmed and damp with tears. Eventually, after a long moment of silence, she said, ‘It was just so unexpected . . . the shock. Steve can’t bear me to mention her. He wanted to get away from everything we’d planned. Start over . . .’

  ‘I guess I understand that. But it must be hard to carry this alone, Cassie. Anytime you want to talk, or pick a flower for Ava, please, I’m here.’

  ‘Thanks, Ellie, it’s a relief that you know. I get very sad on her birthday each year.’

  ‘If you want to do something special for Ava, any time, just ask me,’ said Ellie.

  Cassie nodded, unable to speak for a few moments. ‘Thanks, Ellie, that’s sweet of you.’ She straightened up, wiping her cheeks. ‘I suppose we should go and find Steve.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Talking with some of the locals down at the landing, I think. Some of them get together for a sundowner and a bit of a fish around this time of day.’

  ‘Shall we go talk to them?’

  ‘Sure,’ Cassie said. ‘I just wish I had some good news for everyone.’

  ‘You can tell them that the paper is going to help. Jon is out poking around – I think he’s mad that Sally got the tip before him. Patrick will be on the phone to everyone he knows, too.’

  ‘Oh, bless him,�
�� said Cassie. ‘He and Roly are such good mates. Those chess games of theirs are something to watch.’ Cassie smiled. ‘You know, the residents here are a mixed bunch who get on so well. They’ve figured out their invisible boundaries, respect their idiosyncrasies, and know when it’s appropriate to check up on someone. Of course, people have disagreements. We hear a few sharp words occasionally, but we always manage to resolve them cooperatively.’

  ‘Sounds to me like you guys should be running the council,’ said Ellie dryly. ‘Show them the importance of community consultation. Hey, I hear music.’

  Across the grass they saw half-a-dozen residents seated at tables or on the grass near the landing, and some had brought their own chairs.

  Roly was there with his cello, someone else had a guitar, and they were singing a silly whimsical song Ellie didn’t recognise, but it made her smile.

  Cassie looked at her. ‘See what I mean? They come from all walks of life and might never have crossed paths before, but each in their own way treasures what they have here – a home and being part of an oddball family. Some of their real families think they’re nuts living in “just a caravan park”.’

  The song finished and people clapped and laughed. Then Roly spotted them and lifted his cello bow in acknowledgement. Steve was sitting beside him with a beer in his hand.

  ‘Aha, Ellie, are you here as the music reviewer from our favourite newspaper come to critique us?’ Roly said as he put away his cello.

  ‘Just a friend dropping by,’ she called.

  Steve stood, giving Cassie his chair. He squeezed her shoulder, saying quietly, ‘You okay?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Want a drink, Ellie?’

  ‘Thanks, Steve. A light beer would be great,’ she answered.