The Lost Summers of Driftwood

  DEDICATION

  In loving memory of Noël Cooney

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Part One: Ripples

  Then

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Part Two: Kindling

  Then

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Part Three: Undercurrents

  Then

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Part Four: King Tide

  Then

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Praise

  Copyright

  PART ONE

  Ripples

  THEN

  The sun is hot and syrupy on their young bodies. Their eyes glint with mischief and the freedom of days spent in and out of the water. The river teems with the sounds of summer: cicadas, frogs, jumping fish.

  Camilla is outstretched on the warm wood of the jetty, her small face trained skyward. She is only eight but already she understands the way she must arrange her body on her towel to look good. Her swimming costume is hot pink. She has matching sunglasses.

  Jez splashes through the water, hooting with delight. He dives deep and feels the cool water run through his hair as he emerges toothy and smiling. Phoebe perches on the jetty watching him, her hair a tangle of salt and knots from the long, hot January days. Her eyes squint tight against the river’s glare. She considers whether to join Jez’s game, to feel the jolt of joy that comes from being near him.

  Tommy is out deeper than the others, past the place where the eels are and way past the end of the jetty. There have been tales of sharks in these parts, near the bend in the river where they breed. But Tommy is twelve and isn’t afraid. He can feel them all watching the perfect arc of his arms as he slices through the green water.

  Karin is out not so far, but far enough that she can’t touch the bottom. She doesn’t like the feeling of the mossy rocks beneath her toes, but she is brave, almost as brave as Tommy because of being the second eldest and the tallest of them all. Even so, she is getting tired. She tries to float but her arms are growing heavy. She dips her long legs down and nothing is there to meet them. She gasps and the water goes into her open mouth. She coughs.

  ‘Jellyfish. Lots of them!’ Camilla shouts. She is standing, pointing wildly, a bright pink beacon on the jetty. All the children cry out and there’s the thrash of limbs. Please don’t let me get stung, Karin thinks. She imagines she can see them, luminous, pulsating, like tiny white hearts. It feels like they are tangling through her legs, their tendrils in her hair. She tries to lift her head but she can’t. She wants to cry out but she can’t. They are all on the jetty now—her sisters and the Driftwood boys.

  Her body is as heavy as the old fish bucket on the jetty when it’s full of water. If only someone would pull the rope to heave it out. Pull the rope. She is screaming but only bubbles come out. There is nothing to push off. Everything is turning green, as green and murky as those mossy rocks.

  Karin feels Phoebe’s arms around her before she sees her. Warm skin pressing against hers, the familiar brown of her hair against her cheek. Karin is being pulled through the water on her back. A lone bird soars overhead against the blue sky and she feels as fast and free as if she were flying.

  Tommy’s face flashes past, white with fear. He’s yelling but Karin can’t make out the words. She hears crying and wonders if it’s coming from her but nothing happens when she tries to speak. Camilla’s cheeks are wet with tears and she’s down on the sand gasping as though she can’t breathe either.

  Warm breath on her cheek. Karin looks up into Phoebe’s eyes, which are not scared but fierce. She presses against Karin’s chest once, twice, and then it feels like the whole river is coming out of her mouth.

  ‘Phoebe,’ Karin says as her sister turns her onto her side on the sand and smooths the hair from her face, ‘you saved me.’

  CHAPTER 1

  Phoebe traced the straight line of the horizon with her finger, the sun sinking over its lip. She could almost smell the salt from the deep blue sea. She cropped the image tight and added hashtags: #champagnemoments #islandholiday. The couple in the photo were in sharp silhouette, his broad shoulders offset by the elegant slope of her hat, a bottle of champagne between them.

  She was the gatekeeper of perfection. The champagne house Joet et Halo was aspiration in a bottle. It was her job to make sure the brand’s social media accounts reflected the joie de vivre of the wine. Polo parties filled with young people laughing, picnics in fields of purple lavender, girls in tilted hats with balloons. And always, a glass in hand and the promise that there was a beautiful life out there somewhere.

  This will be me soon, she thought, and pressed upload. Her last post to Instagram for the day. She glanced at her watch. Nearly 4.30 pm. Half an hour until Nathaniel was due to arrive. Phoebe’s heart swooped in expectation. They would take a cab straight to the airport, maybe have a quick drink at that nice new bar with the mirrors before boarding, then they would be on their way to Hawaii. Joy fizzed inside her—how long had it been since she’d felt like this? There had been so many dark days, and darker nights. But now, things would be better. Things would be perfect.

  Kate, her boss, twisted the gold bow at the neck of a champagne bottle she placed on Phoebe’s desk.

  ‘Well, here’s your holiday gift. I saved one of the vintage limited editions for you. Don’t forget to take a stunning pic and upload it.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Maybe just after Nathaniel . . . you know what . . .’

  ‘Thanks Kate.’ Phoebe’s face grew warm and she smoothed her dress over her knees.

  Kate cocked her head. ‘Oh, you’re so excited.’ Her expression shifted. ‘You deserve it, Phoebe, after everything you’ve been through.’

  Sometimes it felt like this fantasy world they peddled was all that was keeping the sadness away. She clung to its flimsy beauty even when it didn’t feel real.

  ‘Lucky you, he’s early,’ said Kate, straightening abruptly and holding out the bottle of champagne towards Nathaniel.

  He was wearing the new clothes they’d bought for the trip. Phoebe smiled seeing the crisp white of his shirt—he was usually in sweaty active wear. She tried to catch his eye, to exchange a little glimmer of anticipation, but his eyes only skimmed hers as he took the bottle from Kate, nodding with approval. ‘Thanks Kate. Very nice. Very nice indeed.’

  Phoebe got up from her desk and moved towards him.

  ‘I’m glad you’re early.’ She squeezed his shoulder.

  ‘I know how you get about missing planes,’ he said. ‘Everything has to be running like clockwork for my Phoebe.’

  She rolled her eyes and ignored the tone in his comment and tried to focus on the fact that he was smiling and pulling her towards him as he said it. He planted a quick kiss on her lips.

  ‘You ready to relax? We’ll be lying on a beach soon with not a care in the world,’ he said.

  ‘I so need this. I can’t believe it’s finally happening.’

  ‘Well, we’ve planned it down to the wire, so it bette
r be happening.’ He shook his head and laughed, his eyes soft with affection. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’

  Phoebe busied herself at her desk, closing down her computer. Her eyes caught on the tiny photo stuck to the side of her monitor. It had been taken on her sister Karin’s Instax Mini camera the moment she’d opened it for her birthday. Their two faces were squished together in a pale blur, their eyes squinting with laughter. It seemed like yesterday. Phoebe gently peeled away the photo and held it in the palm of her hand. Karin would never know about this holiday. She would never be maid of honour at Phoebe’s wedding. Phoebe slipped the photo into her bag and brushed away a tear. She knew her sister would want her to be happy, to keep living her life, but sometimes it felt impossible. She shook her head and took a deep breath. No, this holiday was going to be happy. She was going to try to let go.

  It had been a stressful few months. Nate had started a new personal training job at a gym in the city and they hadn’t seen much of each other. Phoebe owed it to him to try to find the joy in life again. She needed this holiday. He, more than anyone, knew that. They just had to get on that plane and then everything would play out just as they’d planned.

  She slung her bag over her shoulder, strode forward and gripped his hand. ‘Well, paradise is waiting,’ she said, a smile planted firmly on her face.

  * * *

  Dusk was falling, soft with sea mist. The sound of gulls, the beach breathing and the low beat of the bars reached her. Tonight, Phoebe thought, stepping onto their balcony. Tonight is the night. The bottle of vintage champagne sat in an ice bucket, sweating into the humid air. Her mood moved between jittery and strangely calm.

  The breeze coming off the water was cool. Their hotel room looked directly over the North Pacific Ocean and the smell of the hotel barbecue mixed with the leftover scents of the day—salt, sunscreen and sweet coconuts.

  Phoebe arranged the neckline of her dress and felt a droplet of sweat run down her chest. She had saved her best dress for last. Nate would propose tonight. It had been the most incredible day.

  ‘Do you think we’ll be doing this when we’re old?’ His question had drifted over to her while they lay under the full white sails on the charter yacht earlier.

  She laughed. ‘Why not? Doesn’t everyone say things get better with age? Like a fine wine. I should know . . . And I have that vintage bottle ready to open at any moment by the way.’ She nudged him playfully.

  Nate nudged her back and shook his head, saltwater from his hair pinging her hot skin. She cried out.

  ‘Your parents might just have to buy the yacht for us,’ he said.

  ‘Money doesn’t matter if we’ve got each other, right?’ She slid closer to him and planted a kiss on the burning skin of his shoulder.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. ‘You happy?’

  ‘So happy. I haven’t felt this happy since Karin . . .’

  He nodded, ‘I know.’ His gaze was far away, towards the horizon.

  ‘Are you coming in one more time?’ She stood, readying herself to jump off the side of the boat.

  He lay down, stretching his body out on the deck.

  ‘Come on, one more swim, they’re about to pull anchor,’ she said, her toes finding the edge.

  ‘No, I’ve had enough,’ he said, but she was already jumping off.

  Nate stepped out onto the balcony now, dressed in a black shirt and pants, despite the heat. Phoebe looked down and saw his feet were bare too. I will always remember this detail, she thought. We both had bare feet when he asked me to be his wife.

  Their eyes met and his gaze was more solemn than she’d expected. He reached into his pocket and Phoebe realised she was holding her breath.

  CHAPTER 2

  Phoebe opened her car door but didn’t get out. The night was thick with the smell of high summer. Her sister’s home was lit with fairy lights, strung from the white-painted eaves and woven through the fragrant frangipani trees. From the elegant Federation architecture to the white Audi in the drive and the handsome investment banker husband, Camilla had it all. Phoebe shoved her heels onto her feet and located her handbag in the nest of empty water bottles on the passenger seat. She examined her face in the visor mirror, reapplied her lipstick, and stepped out of the car.

  She pressed the doorbell and felt her stomach tighten. The music that had been playing inside stopped abruptly and Phoebe felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Something was off. She wasn’t sure what, but something didn’t seem quite right. For a start, her niece and nephew were usually the first to the door, tumbling down the hall towards her, breathless and sweet.

  ‘Phee Phee,’ Camilla swung open the door. She was wearing the equivalent of a white ball gown but had somehow managed to make this look completely fine for a family dinner. Phoebe ran her damp palms down the flimsy fabric of her dress and kissed her sister’s perfumed cheek.

  ‘Where’s that handsome fiancé got to? Run off already?’ Camilla laughed and Phoebe fought against the lump in her throat to speak. It was now or never.

  She squared her shoulders. ‘Camilla, it’s off.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Nathaniel and me. It’s over.’

  She grasped Phoebe’s arm. ‘What? No!’ She lowered her voice. ‘No.’

  ‘I know. I’m reeling.’ Phoebe rubbed her temples. ‘I mean, it was all so sudden and I thought of calling you but I just thought it would be better . . . in person. I don’t know.’

  ‘What? I mean, how?’

  ‘He just didn’t . . .’

  ‘Propose?’

  ‘Yeah. Said he just couldn’t.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘I have no idea. We went our separate ways at the airport the night before last. I think I’m still in shock.’ She gave a hollow-sounding laugh.

  Camilla’s face seemed to take on a crimson brighter than her lips. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, hon. You see . . .’ She leaned in close and Phoebe caught a hint of vanilla and coconut. Her sister always smelled like a Caribbean holiday. ‘I’ve kind of . . . organised something.’

  Phoebe’s hand shot to her mouth. ‘No! You haven’t.’

  Camilla’s lips lifted into a hopeful smile.

  ‘A surprise thing? For our . . . engagement. Oh my God. The whole family? Everyone?’

  Camilla nodded, and Phoebe felt sick. She eyed the front door and thought about running. ‘Oh my God. I can’t.’

  Camilla patted her arm and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘They’re all waiting right there in the dark, ready to shout “surprise’’.’

  ‘What do we do?’ Phoebe was shaking.

  ‘Can we maybe . . . say Nathaniel’s sick? Everyone will be heartbroken.’ There was a patter of little feet as Sophia, Camilla’s eldest, started down the hall towards them.

  Camilla put her finger to her lips, indicating for her daughter to be quiet. Oscar stuck his head around the door frame. ‘Do we have a choice?’ Camilla wiped under Phoebe’s eyes with her thumbs. ‘Let’s just go in there and we’ll figure it out, okay?’

  Phoebe felt her heart collapse and shrink, like a piece of paper folded too many times.

  Her arms and legs felt numb as Camilla guided her down the hallway.

  ‘Here, drink this. It’ll help.’ Camilla handed her a glass of champagne.

  Phoebe saw a second glass on the side table, the one meant for Nathaniel, and it filled her with despair. She thought back to the bottle of vintage Joet et Halo on their hotel room balcony, untouched. Unphotographed.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do the talking,’ Camilla said, too loud in her ear.

  Someone flicked a switch and a chorus of happy, eager people yelled ‘surprise’. The kitchen was festooned with balloons and lights and paper flags. It looked like something out of Home Beautiful. And among the beauty and the colour she saw the glowing faces of everyone she loved. Her heart ached.

  ‘Where’s that lazy bugger got to?’ Uncle J
ack yelled and everyone laughed.

  Camilla stepped forward in front of Phoebe, her voice full of emotion. ‘Nathaniel’s sick.’

  Phoebe stiffened, her hands curling into balls. She tried to catch Camilla’s eye.

  There was a joint ‘Oh’ of disappointment from the crowd. And then there was a moment of complete silence while everyone waited for an explanation. What was Nathaniel sick with? Was he okay? How was the holiday? How did he pop the question? A deep pool of answers, lies, began to form in Phoebe’s mind. She would humiliate herself completely when everyone found out next week that Nathaniel never did ask her to marry him. But she didn’t have the strength to fight this.

  ‘Stomach bug,’ she said, making a face and exchanging a panicked glance with Camilla. She hated herself for lying.

  She saw her father at the back. He was standing next to the only picture of Karin that Camilla kept in the house. It lived in a beautiful silver frame above the fireplace and Phoebe found herself looking at it often. Wondering how Karin, with her long dark hair and pale skin, would have looked now with a year more living on her face.

  Her dad glanced at the photo and picked it up. He used his shirt front to gently brush away the dust from the glass and placed it back on the shelf. The tenderness in this tiny gesture brought tears to Phoebe’s eyes.

  Her aunty made an alarmed ‘Oh no!’ sound at the sight of the tears. Phoebe felt fleshy arms encircle her.

  She was sick of pretending that everything was perfect in this family. Camilla and her mother wanted life to be all fairy lights and frangipanis, but you know what? Sometimes it was just shadows and bare branches. Maybe if their family hadn’t been in a place where pain could be soothed by material beauty and denial, Karin would still be here. Phoebe’s chest ached with the familiar pang of grief.

  Phoebe turned to face the expectant crowd. She would tell them the truth. Come clean. Camilla linked arms with her and whispered. ‘I have no idea what we’re doing. Just smile. I’m so sorry you have to go through this, honey. I wanted this to be perfect for you.’

  Phoebe stood, immobilised before everyone. The words ‘we broke up’ were trying to form on her tongue but they wouldn’t come. She couldn’t ruin everyone’s night, Camilla’s party.