“I’ve got to go,” Frank said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his baggy shorts. “Nice to see you again, Chaz.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She watched him stride to the parking lot and put Sam into the car. He clearly didn’t want to talk about his uncle, even though he was happy to share personal details about Betsy and his relationship with his former wife. The whole island was talking about Buck Clements and his murder charge. Why wouldn’t his nephew want to address the subject? If he thought his uncle was innocent, surely he’d say so. Unless he considered him guilty. Maybe he knew something and didn’t want to let any details slip in case Charmaine went to the police.
Fourteen
The next day,Evie walked into Bea’s kitchen and set a container of salad on the bench. Bea bustled around the kitchen, marinating chicken. She wore an apron tied around her waist with a picture of a galah on the front and writing that said,Don’t be a galah.
Galahs were known for their loud, erratic behaviour, something Bea could never be accused of, but Evie often thought of herself as something of a galah. She often wondered if others saw her the same way. She tripped over her words and said the wrong things at the wrong times, and her laughter was high-pitched and often out of place. Yet in her forties, she’d grown to love all those things about herself. She’d matured and become someone who didn’t care if strangers thought she was bizarre. Her friends cared about her, and that was what mattered.
But now, with her sister in town and the fire at the bookshop, she felt the ground giving way beneath her feet. All the confidence she’d built in recent years had been shaken, and she didn’t have the strength left to build it back up again. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever return to that place of contentment and joy.
Bea stopped what she was doing and embraced Evie. “Hi, friend.”
“Hi.”
They embraced for several long moments. Evie’s throat tightened.
“How are you?” Bea asked, pulling back and looking at Evie with concern in her large brown eyes.
Evie pushed a smile across her face. It wobbled. “I’m okay. You?”
“Still in shock, I think. I can’t believe all that work…” She stopped speaking and pressed a hand to her mouth. “I spoke to the police today and gave my full statement.”
“Me too,” Evie replied, recalling the vacillation between intensity and boredom that’d permeated her entire morning at the station.
“It was stressful.”
“Definitely,” Evie agreed. “It felt like I was under suspicion.”
“I know what you mean. Anyway, never mind. That’s not why we’re here today. We have other things to talk about.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to discuss the fire yet anyway,” Evie said. “I’ll happily change the subject. Do you know why Penny invited us all to lunch?”
“No idea. I offered to have it at my house because Penny has been so stressed lately. I’m hoping she has good news for us and that this is some kind of celebration because we could all do with some cheering up.”
Taya breezed into the kitchen and kissed them both on the cheek. She didn’t have a chance to say anything other than offering them condolences about the fire before Penny arrived.
Penny had lost weight. Her cheeks were gaunt, and her clothes hung from her thin frame. She looked scared or sad, or something equally distressing. Evie couldn’t figure out what to say, so she simply hugged her friend.
Taya pretended everything was fine, but her face was pale with shock.
Beatrice handed Penny a glass of wine. “Let’s all take a seat. I’ve made some appetisers to get us started — baked camembert with crusty bread, olives and artichoke dip. Also, there’s plenty of wine.”
“That sounds amazing, Bea. Thanks for doing this,” Penny said, taking the wine and leading the way out to the deck.
Aidan and Bea’s deck had a stunning outlook over the ocean. A light breeze cut through the humidity. Evie found a seat and poured herself another glass of wine before offering top-ups to the other ladies, who gratefully accepted.
She ate a piece of bread with camembert before speaking. “So, Penny honey. What brings us all together today?”
Penny set down her wine glass. “I’ve hired someone to manage the refuge.”
“What? Why?” Bea asked.
Evie gaped.
Penny gestured for them to wait. “There’s more. Rowan has been unhappy, as you all know. He wants to go back to working as a journalist, which means a lot of travel. We’re newlyweds, so we obviously don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be apart. We’ve decided that we’ll travel together and take the opportunity for a kind of extended working honeymoon.”
