Strangers at the Cove Read online

  She had never been to The Point, although she was aware of it. It didn’t really seem necessary, living at the Cove. People went there for picnics and yet she had never been. Now that she thought about it, the fact that she hadn’t been was strange. It really wasn’t that far from the Cove, and obviously, because her parents never mentioned it, she had never thought of going there.

  As it suggested, The Point was a piece of land jutting into the sea with a sweeping lighthouse beacon at the farthest end. Lexie rode through a copse of eucalypts and pine, the pine needles giving off a fresh scent as Bud’s hooves crushed them, before entering a clearing near the edge of the headland. Dismounting, she loosely tethered Bud to a stump. The land slowly inclined and then dropped away dangerously to the churning sea below, with the crash of each wave echoing thunderously up the cliff face, and sending fine white spray sparkling into the sunlight. Where she stood, The Point was devoid of trees and covered in lush grass. “A perfect place for a picnic, as long as you don’t have little children with you!” she told Bud. There was no fence; she moved forward, gingerly, and looked with horror downwards, the sound of the sea filling her ears.

  Away from the edge it was tranquil, so different. She lay in the long, soft grass, looking up at the sky, imagining the events of that day so long ago, and started to doze, enveloped in the warm rays of the sun. Standing finally, Lexie stretched, shook her head to clear it and gathering up the reins patted Bud’s neck. “Come on, we’re going visiting!”

  As they trotted along she scanned the area for the tree. “That must be it.” She reined Bud to a halt, fascinated. For a few moments they stood silently by the huge shattered trunk of a eucalypt, silent and in awe of the power of nature. As she looked, Jane Eyre came to mind. They had been reading the book at school last term. What was it? Ah, yes. The chestnut tree, black, the trunk split down the middle, dead. A ruin. Her tree had burnt in the middle leaving the left side lying, silver-white, rotting on the ground. Although the other half was still standing, the centre section was dead. Amazing new growth sprouted from the right side, making the whole piece look like a work of art. Her tree was not a ruin. The new growth was straight and strong and swayed gently in the light breeze, covered in wonderful green foliage it reached for the sky. The sight made Lexie smile and she started to hum quietly to herself. As she turned Bud to leave something caught her eye. A bird’s white and brown head appeared in a hollow high up in the tree. The kookaburra’s sharp beak flashed in the glare of the sun and his eyes looked enquiringly down at her. “Hello,” she called. Feeling content and uplifted she headed off towards Reiby House with the laughter of the kookaburra caressing the treetops.

  The house looked all closed up from a distance but as she drew nearer she saw someone sitting on the verandah. Lexie rode up to the gate, which was covered in peeling white paint and then decided to leave Bud grazing on the other side of the road. As she stood watching the house she realised that the person was sitting in a wheelchair. Maybe the old lady was sick. Maybe she should forget the whole thing and just keep going. “What?” she said to herself. “No way. This time you go in.”

  The gate creaked and Lexie felt very self-conscious as she walked up the overgrown brick path. A slightly torn lace curtain twitched at the window to the right of the front door – surely they weren’t the same, now familiar, grey eyes?

  “Hi,” the young girl in the wheelchair said, brushing wavy, dark brown hair from her face.

  Lexie immediately felt awkward. She hadn’t been prepared to see the wheelchair occupied by a young person. The shorts the girl wore exposed her damaged legs, the right was in plaster to the knee and the left heavily bandaged. When Lexie smiled at her she noticed dark circles under her eyes. Either she hadn’t slept in weeks or her eyes appeared darker because of her incredibly pale skin.

  “Hello, I’m Lexie Holman. What are you reading?” she asked, peering at her lap.

  “Great Expectations for school. I feel a bit like Estella and GAC is Miss Havisham,” she said, making an attempt at levity but not quite succeeding.

  The front door opened abruptly and the old lady was standing there, looking closely at the unwelcome guest. “Clarissa, come inside, it’s getting cold.” Was there an underlying sense of urgency in the old lady’s manner?

  “Please, Great Aunt, can’t I stay out here? It isn’t cold and we have a visitor.”

  “I don’t want you talking to strangers,” her Great Aunt said, looking at Lexie with what appeared to be suspicion, then beyond to see if anyone else was there.

  A little rattled, Lexie smiled and offered her hand. “Hello. I’m Lexie Holman. I think I might have seen you on the plane the other day.”

  The old lady ignored her outstretched hand. “No, I don’t think so,” she said rather curtly, turning to the girl. “Alright, Clarissa, but you can only have ten minutes. I don’t want you getting over-tired.” With that she turned and closed the wooden door with a resounding bang.

  Lexie looked at the girl – Clarissa. She couldn’t believe her ears, having thought about her father’s story all night, reliving it in her dreams. Was it possible this girl could be related to Dad’s Reibys of so long ago? It seemed appropriate somehow that there was another Clarissa, particularly after discovering the tree today.

  “Please, sit down,” Clarissa said, pointing to an old cane chair. “I’m sorry about my Great Aunt.” She glanced quickly at the front door. “She can be a little abrupt sometimes.”

  “That’s alright.”

  “Is that your horse? He’s beautiful. I wish I had a horse. It must be wonderful to live in the country all the time, it’s the first time I’ve been out of the city. My mother …” She suddenly stopped, her eyes wide, welling with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said thickly.

  The front door opened again and out she came, the Great Aunt. “Alright young lady, it’s time for you to leave.”

  Lexie stood, smiled politely at the old lady, gave Clarissa’s hand a squeeze and ran down the worn stone steps.

  Instead of riding Bud home she chose to walk him cross country towards the Cove. “Hey! Hey!” She turned to see a little figure scampering through the grass, and they waited for Stacey to catch up.

  “Hello, why didn’t you wake me yesterday afternoon when you came down?”

  “You were asleep.”

  “I know, but you could have woken me up.” They walked in silence; he really was a cute, lively boy. After a while Lexie felt a small hand creep into hers.

  “Won’t your Great Aunt miss you?”

  “No. She’s taking Clare to the hospital, I have to stay home on my own.”

  “Well, you can spend the rest of the day with me. My mother works at the hospital and she’s gone there today, too. Maybe she’ll meet your sister,” Lexie said with a smile. “Let’s go to the house first and get some lunch to take down to the Cove.”

  She made a couple of ham sandwiches, packed some peaches (an apple for Bud) and water and they set off riding Bud together. “This time,” she said with a grin, “maybe you’ll tell me something about your sister.”

  Once again she removed Bud’s saddle and bridle, gave him half the apple, and he wandered off while she and Stacey settled themselves on the sand. “So, what’s the story with your sister? What happened to her legs?”

  Lexie couldn’t believe it as Stacey looked at her with his big blue eyes and a tear trickled down his cheek. “Oh no, not again, please don’t cry. Here, come and cuddle up next to me and tell me why you’re so sad.” Lexie held out her arms.

  And so the tale was told – poor little Stacey and poor Clarissa, she felt crushed for them. Imagine losing your mother in a car crash, to have been a passenger, have witnessed everything and be aware of what was going on around you. How awful for Clarissa. She held Stacey close and silently wept for them both.

  They stayed still a long while when Lexie realised that Stacey was asleep in her arms. She lay there thinking of what she had learnt last night and
what she now knew. If this was indeed Dad’s Reibys, what a tragic family!

  When Stacey woke they paddled through the cool lapping water, holding hands and then she took him home and stayed with him until she saw his Great Aunt returning with his sister. It was then Stacey told her he should not have left the house and how angry GAC would be if she found out. Feeling a little like a fugitive Lexie left silently by the back door.

  It was only when she and Bud were home at Holman’s Cove that Lexie realised the little boy had not said anything about his father. So where was he?

  She found her father and Tom in the shed and flopped onto a heap of old sacks next to the sleeping dogs. Banjo plopped his head onto her lap. “Hi, Tom,” she said with a cheeky grin. He gave her one of his infamous smiles as he picked up his tools and left, a now alert Scuz at his heels.

  “You’re not going to believe what I found out today,” she said to her father conspiratorially, looking at him sideways, caressing Banjo’s ears.

  “Oh really, and what did you find out today?” he asked with a grin.

  “You know those people in Reiby House?”

  “Yeeeess?”

  “Well, that’s where Stacey comes from. There is his Great Aunt Someone and his sister who is about my age, oh, and he’s six. The interesting thing is that his sister’s name is Clarissa.” Lexie looked at her father, waiting for a reaction.

  He stopped what he was doing and turned to Lexie. “And how do you know all this?”

  She wriggled uncomfortably. “I rode over there today,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

  At the familiar sound of the car approaching, Lexie and Banjo jumped up and ran out to meet her mother. “You’re not going to believe who the patient was,” her mother said, taking her bag from the car, “Clarissa Collins.”

  “I thought it might be,” Lexie said. “I went over there this morning after you left and introduced myself. It was a bit of a shock to see a young girl in a wheelchair, it was even more of a shock to find out what her name is! Did you meet her Great Aunt? What an incredibly grumpy lady she is!”

  “Yes.” She turned to her husband as he put his arm around her. “The Great Aunt is Clarissa Reiby.”

  “Oh? I suppose these must be Jason’s children, so I wonder where he is? I guess it will be only a matter of time before the whole family is back again.”

  Lexie looked at her parents. “Shall I make you both a nice cup of tea?” she asked. “I have even more news regarding the Reibys, so we may as well all sit down inside and relax while I fill you in with what brought them back.”

  Her father laughed. “Nothing my dotty daughter enjoys more than a good mystery,” he said, wiping his hands on some rag. “I’ll be in as soon as I’ve cleaned up.”

  Lexie served the tea in the ‘good’ teacups – a wedding present from her great-grandparents to her grandparents. She always thought they were special; very fine china with a few pretty little yellow flowers on the cups and matching saucers. She felt they were on the threshold of something exciting; these holidays were shaping up to be really interesting. Wouldn’t it be amazing if Jason came back after all these years and he and Dad got together? she mused. Maybe they could even talk Uncle William into coming down.

  As her parents sipped their tea Lexie told them all about her ride to Reiby House, the ‘welcome’ from Great Aunt Clarissa and the terrible news Stacey had told her.

  “Don’t you think it is so tragic?” Lexie asked with tears in her eyes.

  “Why is it that girls your age dramatise everything?” her father asked with an edge to his voice. “Yes, I agree it is sad, but you mustn’t make an issue of this, Lexie. These are real people with a real situation and I don’t want you hanging around causing them more pain with your questions.”

  “I don’t think she’d do that, Peter.” Her mother smiled as she rose to Lexie’s defence. “Lexie may be prone to dramatisation but she is also sensitive to others’ feelings. It seems I’ll be treating Clarissa – actually she asked me to call her Clare today – and I may do some treatments here to make it easier for Miss Reiby.”

  “What’s wrong with her, Mum?”

  “Poor little thing, she’s still quite disturbed about the accident, which is natural.” She sighed. “It only happened a week or so before they arrived here. Clarissa – Clare” she corrected herself “spent some time in hospital and her brother was cared for by a neighbour until they could locate Miss Reiby. Apparently she’s their only relative in Australia, as their father is overseas on business. Clare told me her grandparents had died and Miss Reiby, not having a place of her own, decided she preferred to bring the children back here, a strange thing to do but there you are.”

  “Yes, but what is wrong with her legs? Why is she in a wheelchair?”

  “It seems she was trapped in the car when it rolled, her legs were pinned just below the knees.”

  “Oh how awful!” Lexie’s eyes were wide.

  “Her right leg is broken below the knee. Soon, maybe in a week, we can fit a heel to the plaster that will mean she’ll be able to put a little weight on it for a short period at a time. The left leg is worse, the nerves just below the outside of the knee have been damaged causing swelling and numbness down the outside of her leg and it also affected the foot, which will be floppy and useless until the nerves re-grow.”

  “So the nerves can re-grow? She won’t have a floppy foot for the rest of her life?”

  “Oh no, it may take two or three months to completely heal but with physio every couple of days there should be gradual improvement all the time.” Her mother looked at her. “Perhaps you would like to help with her exercises?”

  FIVE

  The Extended Sleepover

  The following morning when her mother was running on the beach, there was a knock at the front door. This was rather extraordinary as everyone they knew always came round the back. Lexie opened the door and was surprised to see Miss Reiby.

  “Good morning.” Lexie smiled. The cold eyes gave her the sensation of being transparent.

  “Good morning, I would like to speak with Mrs. Holman if she is at home, please,” was the stiff reply. Lexie struggled to be on her best behaviour as Miss Reiby reminded her of a small bird, her head darting left and right, peering over Lexie’s shoulders in search of an adult.

  “Yes, of course, please come in.” Lexie then remembered her mother was, in fact, not at home. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot, my mother is having her morning run at the moment but she should be back any time. Please, come into the lounge room and take a seat, I’ll see if I can see her coming.”

  “No, I won’t stay if your mother is not here.”

  Just then the back door banged startling the older woman, and Lexie’s mother appeared, dishevelled, damp with perspiration, and rather pink in the face. “Oh! Pardon me, Miss Reiby,” she said, a little breathlessly. “What a pleasant surprise! Has Lexie made you feel at home?”

  “Yes, thank you. I was hoping to have a few words with you but obviously this is not an opportune time.” She looked rather askance at the short shorts and wet, clinging T-shirt.

  “Oh, please don’t go. Lexie, take Miss Reiby into the front room and look after her.” Her mother turned to their guest. “I’ll just have a quick shower and be right back, please make yourself comfortable.” With that she ran lightly down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

  Lexie led Miss Reiby into the lounge room, or front room as they tended to call it, located to the right of the front door, off the wide hallway. It was rarely used. The Holmans were gradually renovating the house and this had been the first room on their list. Like all the others, the floor was of polished timber, with a thick light blue and beige rug, a fire screen stood across the hearth and family photographs adorned the mantelpiece. A large mirror made the room appear deceptively bigger than it was, with a low, square coffee table in the centre of the room. Lexie motioned Miss Reiby to the most comfortable chair.

  She really was
quite tall for an elderly lady, thin, with a straight back, and an unhappy life painted on her face. Lexie wondered if she ever smiled. Her eyes still had that icy look and her thin, grey hair was pulled back severely into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She had probably been quite attractive in her youth, Lexie decided, and couldn’t help but wonder about her life.

  “Would you care for a cup of coffee, or perhaps tea, Miss Reiby?” Lexie asked politely.

  “Well, child, as I am waiting for your mother, that would be very nice. A cup of tea, thank you.” Lexie handed Miss Reiby one of the books off the coffee table and left the room.

  As she prepared the cups and saucers her mother appeared in the kitchen. “Gee, that was fast.” Lexie grinned. Her mother chuckled, giving her a sideways glance and headed to the front room.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said warmly, sitting opposite their guest and feeling more at ease in her shirt and slacks. “Was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “I wanted to thank you for seeing Clarissa yesterday. I know you were not expecting to go into the hospital.”

  “It was my pleasure, we got along extremely well. She seems to have been through quite a traumatic time over the past few weeks.” She looked at Miss Reiby expectantly.

  “Yes,” she replied, eyes staring into the distance. Lexie’s mother wondered whether there was more to the story that Miss Reiby was hesitant to speak of.

  “It must be difficult for you suddenly being responsible for two children, I’m sure it can’t be easy. If there is anything we can do to help, you really only have to ask.”

  Lexie entered the room carrying a tray and placed it in front of her mother, hesitating, not knowing whether to stay or go. “How is Clare?” she asked Miss Reiby.

  “Clare?” The old lady looked vague.

  “I mean, Clarissa.” The old lady seemed to be in another world.

  “I am sorry, I don’t feel at all well.” She looked pale and started to shake, her hand went to her left arm as she slid, very slowly and gracefully, to the floor.