Page 35 of Summer in Sunset Harbour
‘Hey,’ came a voice, making them all turn. Robinson, carrying a toolbox in one hand and a rucksack in the other, came striding down the path. His shirt was unbuttoned to the navel, his body, as well as his shirt, flecked with paint.
‘Did I hear someone mention electricity? Dad gave me a call, said you needed some wiring done. I’ve done a bit of wiring myself, thought I’d come over and see if I can help.’
As he set down his toolbox on the ground, Tiffany leant close to Josie. ‘Mum, who’s he?’
‘Oh, the son of the park owner,’ Josie hissed in reply through gritted teeth.
‘He’s a total dish. I mean, he’s waaaaaaay too old for me, but he would be perfect for you.’
18
Making Connections
The soundof a strimmer came from through the trees. Behind Josie, someone else was hammering away in the barn. Wading through an area of weeds that was yet to be given the manicure treatment, Josie reached the bottom of the helter-skelter and started up.
The stairs, the broken boards now replaced with new ones, wound up and up. Even though several weeks of manual labour had toughened Josie somewhat, she still found herself puffing as she turned a corner to reach the little viewing platform at the top of the slide.
A rope hung across the top of the slide itself. Gummed up with years of accumulated leaf litter, she hadn’t yet checked it for safety, and while Tiffany had volunteered to be a guinea pig, Josie hadn’t allowed it. Robinson had a mate who would come and have a look sometime in the next week.
Lindsay stood at the top, a paintbrush in hand, a pot of red paint by her feet, as she carefully touched up the designs that had faded over the long years of disuse and abandonment.
‘How’s it going?’ Josie asked, as the older woman turned and gave her a smile.
It seemed strange to think of overalls flecked with paint as an improvement, but compared to Lindsay’s previous rag-like attire, it was significant. Lindsay turned to look at Josie. Her face had lost its hardness, her cheeks no longer quite so hollow, filling in some of the lines with a touch of vitality. She would never be young again, nor even flush with it, but she now looked closer to Josie’s age than Hilda’s. Her hair, light brown streaked with grey, after a cut and styling now looked fashionable rather than unruly.
‘I called them,’ she said, then lifted a hand to wipe away a tear. ‘Barney lent me his phone. Last night, I called all of them.’
Josie found herself welling up. ‘How on earth did you get reception?’ she asked, choking back a sob.
Lindsay smiled. ‘I sat right here. You can get a solid five bars.’
‘That’s great.’
‘We talked. I’m going back in the summer for a couple of weeks. Do you think you’ll be able to manage?’
‘We’ll be fine. We’ll hold your cabin for you, though. I’m hoping to stay open right through September if the weather stays good.’ She grinned. ‘Target the retirement age group, maybe, once the kids have gone back.’
‘Thank you,’ Lindsay said.
Josie shook her head. ‘I literally did nothing. This was all you.’
‘You listened. Most people just talk and talk and talk. I just needed someone to listen. Thank you.’
Josie came forwards and the two women shared a hug. ‘No worries,’ Josie said.
‘Oh, something else,’ Lindsay said, pulling away. ‘Geoffrey asked me to go and get ice cream with him one evening. What do you think?’
‘Geoffrey … ice cream? Wow, that’s … smooth.’
‘I mean, he looks better without the beard. Tidier. He’s about ten years younger than I thought, too.’
‘Do you like him?’
Lindsay grinned. ‘I spent two months living in a treehouse with him. I think if I didn’t, I might have pitched him over the railing at some point.’
‘Box one ticked. Do you like ice cream?’
Lindsay rolled her eyes. ‘Who doesn’t?’
