Family Baggage by Monica Mcinirney

Author:Monica Mcinirney [Mcinirney, Monica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

On the other side of the world, Gloria Hillman moved across the bedroom of her Merryn Bay cottage, carrying a tray and listening to the rattle of the cup in the saucer. It always woke her husband up much better than any alarm clock could. ‘Morning, darling.’

‘Hello, my sweet.’ Kevin sat up in the queen-sized bed. He’d greeted Gloria that way each morning for the past thirty-five years. She placed the cup in the same spot on the bedside table she used every day, then perched on the end of the bed watching, but not helping, as Kevin reached and felt for the saucer. He was sixty-thee years old, a bit older than her, but still fit-looking. Tanned, too, from all the outdoor work he’d done as a roofer over the years. He even had a full head of hair still, even if it was more grey than brown these days. He took a long sip. ‘Thanks, love. Did you sleep well?’

‘Like a dream.’

‘Any big news?’

‘Nothing earth-shattering.’ Gloria always delivered the seven o’clock news headlines with the morning cup of tea. ‘Industrial action on the ports. Election campaign due to begin next week. And two goats from Melbourne Zoo seen making a run for it down Flemington Road.’

‘Good for them. And the weather?’

‘Blue. Sunny. Twenty-eight degrees, if you can believe a word any of them say.’

Gloria stood and pulled back the curtains. Their house was set back from the road, but if she leaned in a certain way she could get a glimpse of the sea through the pine trees, and a good view of the sky. It was cloudless so far. April was her favourite time of year. All the summer crowds had left and they had the small town back to themselves. Merryn Bay’s normal population of five thousand swelled to nearly twelve thousand for a few months, the holiday shacks and caravan park down the end of the beach crammed to bursting point. People were drawn to the simple beauty of the town, with its curving bay, secluded beach, little wooden jetty and the view across the water to bare hills and other small towns, invisible in the day, twinkling lights at night.

Strolling around at lunchtime in the summer, down the only shopping street in the town, she’d often overhear conversations between holidaymakers from Melbourne, remarking on how well set up the town was, with its banks, hairdressers, clothes shops, supermarket, ‘Look, even a travel agent,’ one would usually say. ‘Let’s sell up and move down here. It’s a big enough town, and we’d be beside the sea all the time.’

She was always surprised at how protective she felt, as if it all belonged to her – the changing colours of the water, the long beach path lined with imported pines, the big sky, blue and hazy in the summer, dramatic in winter. She didn’t want it teeming with crowds all year round. She liked it the way it was.

‘Any clouds, love?’

She turned back to her husband.

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