“Really? That would be nice. I forgot to eat lunch, since we had that big order to fill. I think I’ll pop over toBea’s Coffeeand get something to eat.”
She took off her apron and smoothed her hair in the mirror. A painting hanging on the wall beside the mirror caught her eye. It was by a local artist. The entire florist shop was covered in paintings by artists. Betsy offered the space to them so they could sell pieces and it made the shop looked nice. It was a good strategy and worked well. Perhaps she should ask Betsy if she could hang some of her own artwork. She’d never sold anything before, but she’d been getting more serious lately — painting almost every night. Her television set was completely dominated by Sean’s game playing, so she’d had to occupy her evenings in other ways. Painting and reading were her favourite pastimes.
This painting, however, spoke to her. It was a seascape with some children playing on the beach. It was painted in an impressionist style, and the colours were eye-catching. It touched something deep inside of her, made her feel. That was what great art was supposed to do, and this painting did that for her. She glanced at the artist’s name.
Finn Edgeley
Finn… that name was familiar. Suddenly she recalled the name on Watson’s collar. Her wandering cat’s real owner was a Finn. Perhaps it was the same person. It seemed too coincidental to be anything else. Surely there couldn’t be too many Finns in a town as small as Kellyville.
“Do you know this artist?”
Betsy squinted at the painting. “Oh, sure, Finn. She paints a lovely seascape.”
“She’s a woman?”
“Last time I looked.” Betsy laughed. “Why?”
“No reason. I presumed Finn was a man’s name. Is she the same person who owns Watson, my cat?”
Betsy cocked her head to one side. “Um… yes, I think that’s right. I’m not up on all the pet owners around here. Pets aren’t my thing. But yes, pretty sure she’s the one who owns the cat, although everyone in the street feeds him. He’s going to get very chunky one day.”
Suddenly Charmaine had an intense desire to meet this woman. She had a fantastic cat, who she happened to be completely fine about sharing with the entire neighbourhood. And she was an amazing artist who had managed to capture the seaside surrounding Coral Island in a way that Charmaine had been attempting to do for months. She must be an interesting woman.
“You know, you should hang some of your paintings up around the shop,” Betsy said. “You’re a talented painter yourself.”
“Really? Thanks, Betsy. That would be amazing.” Charmaine’s stomach did flips as she thought about hanging her own artwork up for people to critique or perhaps buy. It was exciting and scary in equal measure.
Betsy looked at her in a loving kind of way that Charmaine hadn’t seen before. “You came along at just the right time, Chaz. I can’t tell you how much I needed you. So, you should treat this place like your own. Put your paintings on the walls, think about how you might like to improve things—whatever would make you most comfortable. I’m open to any and all suggestions.”
Charmaine’s heart swelled. “Thanks, Betsy. I love working here. You basically saved my life.” There was no way for her to express how much she appreciated all Betsy had done for her. She’d taken her in, a stranger off the street with nothing more than a backpack and a sad story. Betsy had given her a job, a place to live. She’d believed in her, trusted her, and opened up a whole new world to a woman who’d come close to giving up on ever finding love, connection or family again.
Betsy dabbed at her eyes. “Well, get out of here then, and enjoy yourself. You can’t work all the time. You’re too young for that.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a while,” Charmaine said as she headed for the door. What would’ve become of her if she hadn’t felt the urge to walk into the florist shop that day? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to. Her life had turned around the moment Betsy said yes to giving her a job. She would be forever grateful to the older woman.
She tried to imagine her itinerant life and where it might’ve taken her if she hadn’t met Betsy that day. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Finn and her cat. Watson’s grey face kept sliding across her imagination. He’d purr then lick his chops.
The fact that the artist whose paintings she’d so admired since she arrived might be her cat’s true owner was something she couldn’t get out of her head. If she wanted to meet Finn, all she had to do was call. After all, she’d texted her right after Watson first spent time in her flat to let her know where her cat was, so she had her phone number. But wouldn’t it be strange for her to call a woman out of the blue who she’d never met? The introvert in her shrank from the idea.
The street was almost empty. Most of the tourists had left for the day. But before she reached Bea’s Coffee, she noticed Penny on the footpath ahead, talking to a man. At first she didn’t recognise him, but then his face triggered a memory from a newspaper article she’d read. It was Buck Clements—she was sure of it. She dodged into an alleyway and pressed herself up to the brick wall of the Thai restaurant. She was close enough to overhear their conversation.
“What do you want?” Penny asked, her voice frosty.
“I want to see you, to talk to you.” Buck had a tinge of an American accent, and his tone was gruff.
“We have nothing to talk about. You killed my grandmother.”
“It’s not true, none of it. I didn’t kill her. WhywouldI kill her? It makes no sense.”
“Maybe she threatened to tell the police about you and my mother.”
“Why would she do that? I didn’t do anything illegal. The age of consent was sixteen.”
“What you did was wrong. She was a child.”
“I know it was wrong. I didn’t realise it at the time, but I’ve regretted it ever since. I shouldn’t have done it. I was lonely. You don’t know what it’s like to come to a foreign country and leave behind everyone you know and love. I felt so out of place, so disconnected from everyone and everything. You’ve lived on the island all your life—you don’t understand what being an outsider feels like.”
“You had your sister and your nephew.”
