A BELINDA ROBINSON NOVEL BOOK 2: BELINDA AND THE HOLIDAYS IT RAINED
Published by Writers Exchange E-Publishing, Smashwords Edition
http://www.writers-exchange.com
Copyright 2011 Margaret Pearce
Writers Exchange E-Publishing
PO Box 372
ATHERTON QLD 4883
Cover Art By: Laura Shinn
ISBN 978-1-921636-47-9
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to individuals known or unknown to the author are purely coincidental.
Chapter one
Belinda pressed her nose to the window and glared at the rain coming down as if it was never going to stop. It was the first day of the school holidays.
She stroked her kitten, Senna Two. He rolled over with his paws in the air and let out a small snore.
Her mother stood in front of her easel. Her smock was blotched in black and purple paint, and her hair fell over her face. There were paints all over the table, and a strong smell of turpentine hung in the air.
"It's raining," Belinda told her mother.
"So it is," her mother said vaguely. "Where are your friends today?"
"Kate will be at basketball; Julie has violin lessons; Amanda's probably gone away," Belinda recited gloomily.
There was a thunderous knocking at the front door. Belinda rushed to open it.
Kate Kennedy dripped on the front door step. Her curly hair was plastered to her head, and her runners were a sodden grey.
She gave Belinda a cheerful grin as she wriggled out of her plastic coat. "Too wet for basketball, so I thought I would drop around."
Behind her a large black umbrella bobbed up to the front door. Under it was Amanda Jones, not as wet as Kate, but just as cheerful. "Thought I would visit. Mummy and Daddy are out, and Mrs. Smith is in a bad mood."
"Hello, Mrs. Robinson," the two girls chorused as they followed Belinda into the kitchen.
"Nice to see you, Kate and Amanda. Would you mind playing in the other room? I want to finish this painting."
They went through into the lounge-room.
Amanda pounced on the kitten and it let out a protesting squeak. "Hello, Senna Two. Isn't he growing beautifully?"
"I changed the name of mine to Benna," Amanda said.
Kate giggled. She sat on the floor drying her hair, and her blonde curls stood on end like a golliwog. "I changed the name of mine to Tenna, because he doesn't stop yowling."
The three girls had been given a kitten each from the same litter. They were odd-looking kittens with the narrow Siamese heads of their father, and the fluffy fur of their Persian mother.
"Senna, Benna and Tenna make it still matching names," Belinda said.
Kate put the kitten down and glared at the rain pouring down outside. "Nothing much to do in wet weather."
"Can always cook." Amanda spent all her spare time experimenting with new recipes.
"And if you cook, we can always eat," Kate agreed. "But what is there to actually do?"
"There's a police car pulling up outside," Belinda said as she looked out the window.
There was a knock on the front door. They waited. Belinda's mother answered the door. They heard the murmur of voices as people walked into the kitchen. Then silence.
"Something must be wrong," Belinda said uneasily.
"Probably only after street directions," Kate said.
Belinda sneaked open the kitchen door. Her mother sat at the table looking at nothing. One policeman patted her on the shoulder and the other one was at the sink getting a glass of water.
There was something wrong with her mother's face. It was almost as if she had gone blind. Belinda got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She walked into the kitchen. The two police, one woman and one man both had strained expressions on their faces.
"What is it?" Belinda asked.
"There's been an accident." The policeman sounded uncomfortable.
"An accident," Belinda repeated.
"The car skidded off the ocean road, probably late last night. The rain undermined the road. They are waiting for low tide to salvage the car," the policewoman explained as she gave the glass of water and a tablet to Belinda's mother.
"Daddy?" Belinda gasped.
Her mother washed the tablet down with the water, and dabbed at her face with her paint-covered rag. Her eyes focused. "They think your father might have gone over with the car, Belinda."
The funny feeling in the pit of Belinda's stomach tightened into a painful knot. Suddenly, rain on the first day of the school holidays was unimportant.
Chapter two
Outside the window, the rain poured down grey and unceasing. The big shabby lounge-room was gloomy and shadowy.
It was Sunday afternoon. Belinda and her kitten had spent the night with the Kennedy family. Her mother had gone to the scene of the crash.
Under normal circumstances, Belinda would have loved staying with the Kennedy's. Boy Kennedy's wrestled up and down the lounge-room and left skate-boards and bikes in the passageway. Girl Kennedy's played doll's houses in the pantry, and cut out and pasted all over the kitchen floor.
Everywhere you looked was the clutter of sporting equipment; cricket bats, tennis racquets and hockey sticks tumbled together with basketballs, footballs and table tennis nets.
All the Kennedy's had made her very welcome, but Belinda stayed scared. What was happening, and why didn't her mother ring with some news?
"No news is good news," Mrs. Kennedy said at breakfast.
"Cheer up," Mr. Kennedy said at lunch. "Your Dad won't want to come home to a daughter with such a long face."
Mr. Kennedy was fat, bald and jolly. He had said "nonsense" so firmly to any suggestion that something dreadful had happened that Belinda almost believed him.
Kate looked at Belinda's unhappy face. "He could have been thrown clear."
"So why haven't we heard?"
"Maybe he got picked up by a passing car and taken to hospital?"
"None of the hospitals have reported his arrival."
"He could've lost his memory?"
Belinda wiped her eyes. Perhaps her father was dead, his body washed out of the car and swept under rocks. Perhaps he was staggering around dazed and injured. Perhaps he was lying unconscious in the dense bushland behind the coastline.
During the afternoon, Amanda arrived, with Benna tucked under her jumper. She put him down to play with the other two kittens.
"Come on, Amanda," Kate's brother Tim prodded. "You promised to make us coffee scrolls."
"I suppose afternoon tea would be a good idea," Amanda said with a sigh.
"A beaut idea." Tim held the door open. "This way to the stove."
Belinda's mother arrived as Amanda was handing out freshly baked coffee scrolls, and Mrs. Kennedy was pouring tea. The noise stopped. Mrs. Kennedy shoved the little Kennedy's out of the kitchen.
"I've made a nice pot of tea, Mrs. Robinson."
Belinda's mother sat down, taking off her wet beret and unbuttoning her raincoat. Belinda's mouth was dry. She wanted to ask that one dreadful question, but it wouldn't come out.
"I came back with Mr. Jones." Her mother looked at Amanda as though she didn't quite see her. "Your family beach house is near where the car went over." She stared at her cup of tea. "The police divers don't think he went over the cliff with the car."
"That's wonderful!" Belinda said.
"So where is he?" Amanda asked.
Belinda's mother stared at her teacup.
"What's wrong?" Belinda asked. The tight sick feeling was returning to her stomach.
"Your father is missing, and so is a briefcase of the firm's money. The police think he wrecked the car, stole the money and disappeared."
"Daddy wouldn't," Belinda said.
"Ridiculous!" Amanda gasped.
"Idiotic!" Kate snorted.
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Kennedy said.
"We just have to find Daddy and the money, and everything will be all right." Belinda felt a lot better. At least her father was alive. The missing money wasn't important.
"Mr. and Mrs. Jones have offered us their beach house for the holidays," Belinda's mother said. "I want to stay around the area in case something turns up."
"And if anything does, we will be there on the spot," Belinda said. "Can Kate and Amanda come, too?"
"If it is all right with their parents."
"Beaut!" Kate exulted. "I can go, can't I, Mum?"
"If you promise to be useful," warned Mrs. Kennedy.
"And I'll help with the cooking," Amanda said.
"Mr. Jones will run us down in the morning," Belinda's mother said. "Can you all be ready?"
"Yes," chorused the three girls.
"We will be able to have a thorough search of the area," Kate said.
"I know every gully and creek around there," Amanda said.
Belinda picked up her kitten and cuddled him. She was feeling better all the time. "If we can find Daddy, it will be the best holiday I've ever had."
"Even if it does rain all the time," Kate agreed as she rolled the ball along the floor for Tenna to pounce on.
Chapter three
The windscreen wipers swished backwards and forwards, pushing back the curtain of water that ran down the glass. Mr. Jones drove slowly, leaning forward to peer through the windscreen. Beside him, Belinda's mother sat straight and silent.
The three girls sat in the back. In the wicker basket at their feet, the three kittens had given up yowling protests, and were snuggled together asleep.
Belinda brooded over the conversation she had with her mother the previous evening.
"But why can't you let grandmother know about the accident?" she had demanded as she folded towels and sheets. "She could probably find Daddy straight away."
"I don't know where she is," her mother admitted with a sigh. "She could be anywhere from Tibet to Timbuktu."
Belinda thought about her grandmother as the car made its slow way along the curving ocean road. It was very mysterious that her grandmother never left a forwarding address. It would be nice to have a stay-at-home grandmother, especially when there was an emergency.
The car turned off the highway and down a side street. Kate jabbed Belinda as they went past a garage. In the far corner of the yard was a battered grey Ford. The windscreen was shattered, and the lovely sleek nose was crumpled as though some giant had kicked it. One door was missing and the other hung drunkenly from one hinge.
Belinda swallowed at the sight of it. Mr. Jones stopped the car, and went into the general store. He returned with bread and milk. He drove the car further along, slowed and turned down an overgrown driveway.
Amanda sat up straighter. "We're here!"
"Where?" Kate asked looking bewildered.
At the end of the driveway was a shabby little house, so weathered and small it was almost hidden by the bush around it. Everyone got out. Mr. Jones started unloading cases and boxes.
Amanda danced on ahead and unlocked the door with a flourish. "Welcome to 'Emoh Ruo'," she said.
The house was enclosed in a fly-wire covered veranda, damp and smelling of gum leaves. Double doors opened into a large room, with a sink and stove in one corner divided off by a bench. There was one bedroom off the big room, and a shower recess, hand-basin and toilet at the end of the enclosed veranda.
At last the cases and boxes were unloaded and piled in a neat heap in the veranda. Belinda made one last trip out to the car for the wicker basket of kittens.
Mr. Jones turned lights on, and did something to the back of the refrigerator. "Needs painting. It's getting very shabby."
"Where do we sleep?" Belinda asked.
"In here," Belinda's mother said. "Much too damp to be sleeping out on the veranda."
"We can fix it later," Amanda said. "We'll have lunch, so Dad can get back."
The girls set the table. Belinda's mother turned on the electric stove. Soon the appetizing smell of baked beans, toast and crumpets drowned out the damp and musty smell of the house.
It started to feel warm and cosy, and the steady rain and the dripping trees only made it cosier. Mr. Jones had another crumpet and another cup of tea, heaved a regretful sigh, and left.
After the car bumped off down the driveway, the bush closed around them. They listened to the steady drumming of the rain, and the gurgle of the water going down the spouting and splashing into the big tank.
They cleaned up lunch dishes, and swept and dusted the big room. They unpacked all the cases, and stacked clothes and sleeping bags in the long wall cupboard.
It was early afternoon and still raining.
"A perfect day for a walk down the beach," Belinda's mother said. "Everybody get raincoats, hats and gumboots."
"Be more like a swim than a walk," Kate said. Her voice echoed hollowly from under her hat.
Amanda led the way along the narrow path that wound further into the bush. It was slippery with wet leaves and dead branches, but the air was perfumed with the smells of warm earth, gum leaves, and the tang of salt.
They came out at the side of the highway. On the other side of the road was the steep drop to the ocean, pounding against exposed rocks. The rain moved across the sea like a solid band of cloud.
"Tide's out," Amanda said as they crossed the road.
She vanished over the edge. A narrow track wound its way down, clinging from tree stump to rocky outcrop until it ended at a small patch of wet sand.
"Come on," Amanda called back.
"Wow!" Kate said, as she folded back her hat.
She slithered down in a cascade of wet sand and rocks. Belinda and her mother followed more slowly. In places the path had been braced with heavy steps of wood.
When they reached the little patch of sand, they looked at the exposed rocks, covered with bubbled kelp. Further out the waves crashed and thundered against jagged rocks. There were channels and pools among the rocks and the water rose and fell, causing the dark shadows of the heavy kelp to toss and sway.
"There's a rock pool safe for swimming when the tide is out properly." Amanda pointed further out, but all could be seen was a higher ridge of rock with white water swirling over it.
Belinda's mother had moved away, scrambling over the slippery rocks towards the point. The girls followed her.
Around the corner of the point, the rocks came up to the edge of the dunes, and the road curved down nearer to the water. Belinda's mother stopped and stared up.
Where the road curved around, the guardrail was broken. The car had skidded on the sharp curve, plunged over, bounced off the outcrop of rocks to drop straight into the deep water beside the reef.
The marks of the tow truck were sharp across the dunes beside the rocks where the car had been dragged out of the water and back to the highway.
Belinda held her mother's hand. The water by the reef was green and deep, swirling higher and higher as the waves thundered in.
Without a word, her mother walked towards the dunes, following the tracks of the tow truck back to the road.
"He could've been swept under the rocks and drowned," Belinda whispered, and the lump in her throat got larger.
"Nonsense!" Amanda said. "We'll get some tide charts and study which way the current went. He could've been swept further out and around the next point."
"All we've got to do," Kate said, "is find some important clue that the police divers missed."
The lump in Belinda's throat and the aching prickle of unshed tears eased. Amanda knew the area and Kate was quick-witted and alert. Surely they would find a clue to lead them to her father and his missing briefcase.
They ran after the lonely figure walking ahead up the sand dunes. Belinda paused to look back at the broken guardrail, and the wildness of the deep water beside the reef, and the lump in her throat returned.
Chapter four
Belinda woke early in the morning. She was on the couch, the warmth of the kitten against her legs.
Amanda was on the other couch. Kate's regular breathing sounded on the folding bed between them, as well as the loud purr of the kittens. The rain pattered, whispered and gurgled on the roof.
The window was a greying square. There were clicks, hisses and thuds. Together with the soft murmur of rain it almost sounded like a grumbling murmur of voices.
"We stay away." It was a dark bad tempered voice.
"But I can smell the milk," said a softer voice.
"The milk is for those nasty sneaking animals."
"They're only babies," argued the soft voice.
Senna Two's narrow head lifted and outlined against the greyness of the window. His ears pricked forward as he jumped off the couch.
The voices were gone. There were coughing grunts and hisses, a series of thuds, and the rain pattering down. Senna Two returned to the couch. Belinda blinked and went back to sleep.
Over breakfast she told the others what she had heard.
"Don't think anybody would be around," Amanda said. "This place is set back from the other houses."
"I thought I heard something during the night," Kate said. "Lots of thuds and hissing, and someone breathing heavily."
"Possums," Amanda said. "Dad used to leave milk out for them."
"They were talking about milk," Belinda remembered.
"Except possums don't talk," Kate argued.
Belinda's mother suddenly laughed. "They probably talk to each other. Maybe they don't talk to people they haven't been introduced to."
"They used to be friendly," Amanda said. "We'll leave some milk out for them tonight."
After breakfast the girls tidied up the house. It was amazing how little work there was in a two-room house. Belinda's mother set up her easel and paints on the veranda. The three kittens lined up on the window ledge and watched.
The rain poured down. The water silvered the fly wire on the veranda, and dripped down from the eaves. The girls put on their raincoats, hats and gumboots, banged the door behind them, and sloshed up the winding road towards the shop.
The shopkeeper was talking to some men in the shop. "I say he cleared out with the money," he said piling groceries on the counter.
"He could've been drowned and his body swept out," a tall man with a dark, weather-beaten face said.
"Yeah," argued another man. He also had a dark weathered face. "What I'd like to know is, where's the cash?"