She Is Vengeance

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She Is Vengeance - book excerpt

SALLY’S SEA CHANGE

In the beginning, Sally only explored the sandy curve of Burner’s Beach as a way to avoid Michael.

Their trip from Adelaide had deteriorated from a spacious, double lane highway to a gravelly snake-like track that sloped its way to the base of sheer limestone cliffs. Escaping from the car, Sally found that the camping area, sandwiched between towering, scorched rock faces and a seductive lapping of waves, was heavy with oppressive heat. The long journey finished with the stress of erecting the heavy, cumbersome camper trailer.

Fortunately, Michael had invited friends on his big adventure and Sally expected his moodiness to be diffused in the social atmosphere. Their conversations tended to be brief and snappy these days. Michael had a way of muttering quietly, causing Sally to strain to hear until she realised he was spouting more sarcasm, primarily about her weight.

They were temporarily alone in the camping ground, accompanied only by low, shrubby trees and a damaged, green sign indicating the trees had been planted a decade earlier by local school children. At opposing ends, drop toilets stood like corrugated iron bookends.

Sally, arms aloft, steadfastly clutched the corner of the canvas annexe. She watched her husband’s dark head leaning into a trailer, one hand frantically delving into a box of rattling junk while the other swiped sweaty hair from his forehead.

“See if you can hold on to that properly while I find the rope,” he said, his flinty, brown eyes attacking her from beneath dark brows.

There had been a time when Sally fancied Michael’s eyes as melted chocolate; warm, soft and comforting. He’d thought it cute at the time (“how sweet”, she seemed to remember was his pun).

When she reminded her husband of it recently, he smirked.

“Trust you to be thinking of chocolate.”

Sally tipped her head backwards, stretching her aching neck and searching the air for a hint of coolness. Beyond the hump of sand, heat shimmered in waves on the horizon, contorting the blueness of the sea into hypnotic curves. To the east, large clumps of rock rose awkwardly out of the water; jagged reddish-brown chunks seemingly thrust sideways into the seabed, the gentle sea caressing them softly.

Michael was still clattering amongst the contents of his poorly packed drawer (which he claimed was, somehow, Sally’s fault) while Sally’s arms began to prickle with pins and needles. The echo of a car’s engine broke the silence, its noise resounding along the narrow cliff track, which was the only way into the camp ground.

“Sounds like Kate and Tony,” Sally commented hopefully.

“Or Geoff and Amanda,” he countered.

Michael stretched upright and brushed dirty hands over his red board-shorts, bought especially for the occasion. He peered expectantly around the edge of the camper but as yet no vehicle had appeared.

“My arms are going to sleep,” Sally said.

“Let it down then.”

He spoke dismissively and walked to the uneven camp track looking expectantly along the narrow road. “I’ll see if the others have a spare rope.”

Michael’s interest was now in the arrival of their friends. Mentally he had already chosen the place they should park their caravans, with, in his opinion, best access to the beach. He’d also planned where the communal barbecue should be placed, as Michael and Sally had no room to bring one of their own.

Sally stretched and massaged the blood back into her arms. A silver four-wheel drive, with caravan bouncing behind, appeared around the bend. As it rattled into camp, a cloud of silvery gulls flew up from the rocks.

Michael ran a hand across his head and folded up the collar of his polo shirt. Sally took secret delight at the tiny thinning patch that was taking shape in his once thick hair.

“I might go cool my feet,” she said.

Michael turned and muttered disinterestedly.

“Yeah, sure, love.”

He closed the distance between them and clapped one hand on her rear end, squeezing a handful of flesh.

“Perhaps you should take a walk?”

Sally looked down as she slipped on her thongs, momentarily studying the chubby feet that protruded from the straps. Well practised, she ignored Michael’s jibe and walked the short path to the beach. In a matter of seconds, she was treading the cooler, yellowish sands of Burner’s Beach.

While one end of the beach abutted the scattered rocks that reared from the ocean, the western end of the beach yawned its way into a hazy distance. A matted web of scrubby vegetation came to the sand’s edge, which was pristine, thanks to the laws of the local conservation park.

Water lapping her ankles, Sally leaned over and immersed her hands in the cool salty ocean. The reflection of a sad face framed by cropped, blondish hair was contorted by the water and typically Sally’s focus was on the flab that oozed over the waist of her board shorts.

She wasn’t looking forward to the intimate laughter from the perfect couple, Kate and Tony, or from Michael’s workmates, Geoff and Amanda. Sally stood up and viewed the sandy, endless curve of land where persistent waves had left a lace of wispy seaweed and a random smattering of shells at the high-water line. She inhaled; the air was sharp and intoxicating. On impulse, Sally stepped out of the water and began to walk west.

She wished she had taken her iPod from the car, but she ran her favourite tunes through her head instead; after all, she knew them word for word. What a blessed relief after Michael’s company on the drive from the city!

Meryl Streep belting out the numbers from Mamma Mia was just the boost she needed right now. Who couldn’t love the Greek Islands where white-washed houses clung to the cliffs and feisty, cheerful women lived beneath perfect blue skies? Now, that was a holiday!

The white arc of Burner’s Beach soothed and relaxed Sally as she got her thoughts in order. It was no easy physical effort though, trudging along the soft sand, making Sally fully aware of the extra twenty kilos she had added since her last holiday with Michael. That had been years before, a spontaneous trip to New Zealand where they had hired a zippy, red car and explored the South Island. A lot had changed since then.

Eventually, Sally rested on the cool sand near the water’s edge. Looking back to the green brim of their camper trailer that poked above the low trees, Sally realised she hadn’t walked very far at all.

About now, Kate and Tony would be ceremoniously popping their luxurious pop-top and breaking out the deck chairs and gin. Back in the real world, Kate and Tony lived opposite Sally and Michael, and Michael and Tony had an unacknowledged rivalry in all things material.

When Tony and Kate added a pergola to their house, Michael had added a (slightly larger) one to theirs. When Michael hired a landscaper to update the front garden, supposedly in the name of water efficiency, Tony had done the same thing.

When Tony showed off his latest pride and joy, a new caravan, Michael and Sally had gone across to christen its arrival with a gin and tonic. All the while, Michael was planning to purchase a more macho camper trailer, which eventually led to this camping trip to the edge of nowhere.

Sally refused to acknowledge her suspicions on why Geoff and Amanda were invited. Geoff worked with Michael at an insurance firm where Michael was technically Geoff’s boss. Surprisingly he didn’t dwell on the fact and, on the surface at least, it didn’t seem to affect their relationship. However, Michael had made it clear that Geoff would need to keep a daily check on their clients. Difficult when there was no phone service at the base of the cliffs and it would require a drive back along the coast road to be in phone range. At the campsite, they were practically cut off from the world.

Unable to avoid the campsite or company any longer, Sally retraced her steps along the beach. She hoped to sneak a quiet gin and tonic with Kate and avoid Amanda, whose harsh, nasally voice and explosive laughter were at odds with the peace of the beach. Sighing, she broached the sandy hill.

“Hey Sally,” Kate waved from the shade of her roll out awning, her blonde ponytail jiggling.

“We finally made it!”

Kate held up a glass and tinkled the ice invitingly. Sally grinned and stepped carefully between the spindly bushes to meet her friend. Michael and Tony were busy tethering a piece of canvas to a nearby tree.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Geoff and Amanda’s caravan obscured behind a group of low trees.

“Hopefully she’s blown away in the breeze,” Kate whispered.

Sally laughed, thinking of Amanda’s unbelievably thin figure.

“Don’t worry about her Sal,” Kate added, sensing her friend’s trepidation. “At least Geoff’s good company.”

Kate was right on the money. Geoff was a great guy: genial, kind and with eyes the colour of spicy green olives. Why do I always equate eyes with food? Sally wondered briefly. But before she could consider it further, Kate thrust a drink in her hand.

“Here, get this into you before she floats past,” she advised.

Sally only managed a sip of the fragrant mix before Amanda, sporting navy blue shorts and a pink singlet tiny enough to fit Kate’s eight-year-old daughter, appeared before them like a piece of horrendously coloured driftwood.

“Hi girls,” she paused and looked pointedly at Kate’s glass. “Don’t suppose I could have one?”

Kate smiled tightly before going back into her van.

“New shorts?” Amanda queried innocently, picking out a twig from her sandal.

Sally looked down at the shapeless blue material currently stretching harshly across her thighs.

“Never underestimate a fat woman,” she quipped cheerily.

Sally studied the pattern of tracks left in the sand by a recently passing lizard. Inwardly, she swore at herself for making a comment that wasn’t even relevant. It was a stupid defence mechanism she’d picked up somewhere.

Amanda smiled smugly at her. It was going to be a long week.

Later, when the sun had vanished into the haze of the distant point and the cool evening air had settled around them, the group circled their deckchairs beneath the awning of Kate and Tony’s van.

“Top spot Michael,” Amanda said approvingly. Her head swivelled to peruse the inky coolness that surrounded them. “There’s not another soul for miles.”

“Thought you’d like it,” Michael replied with a cheeriness boosted by red wine. “You’ll be able to do a few beach runs.”

“I won’t be straying far from camp,” Amanda said, clasping one hand around her left ankle. “I strained my Achilles at the gym last week.”

Usually, Sally didn’t contribute much to small talk, often amazed how being overweight could make a person invisible. Suddenly though, she needed to be included.

“I thought I might walk up the beach every day.”

“Good on you,” Geoff commented from his deck chair, olive eyes on her as he sipped red wine.

Tony balanced a platter of biscuits and dips on his huge hands and offered them around the group.

“Don’t think I’ll worry too much,” he commented chewing a wedge of cheese.

Kate slapped him on the leg as he went past. “You are so lazy, Tony Grafton.”

“You still love me though, right?”

Amanda let out a trill of laughter. “You two make me sick,” she said. “I need another drink. Anyone else?”

Michael straightened up in his chair. “Sure, I’ll give you a hand.” He turned to Sally. “Want one, love?”

Sally took in the sudden animation of his face, the smudged circle of red wine on his lips.

“No thanks, I might head off to bed.”

Michael didn’t take the hint and kissed her on the head like a child as she passed by. Geoff appeared deep in conversation with Kate and Tony and unconcerned as his wife vanished into the bushes with Michael. It was the last image Sally had as she listened to the rhythm of the waves and the slap of the canvas walls before eventually drifting off to sleep.