Dead Certain

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Balmoral Beach looked ravishing in the bright spring day. Little waves danced in from the harbor, seagulls inspected the sand or wheeled overhead with flashing white wings, a few swimmers braved the chill of the water while the less adventurous paced along the yellow sand. Up from the sea wall the white rotunda sat smugly in a sea of lawn.

Carol smiled at Mark Bourke, whose usual nonchalance had abandoned him. “I know something’s going to go wrong, Carol.”

“Relax. It’s pre-wedding nerves.”

Knots of people were gathering, greeting each other with lighthearted comments. The marriage celebrant beckoned. “Mark, we’ll be starting in a moment.”

Carol gave him a gentle shove. “Go on, Pat’s waiting for you.”

As he went up to take his place Carol saw Sybil’s red hair. Carol skirted the crowd and came up beside her. Carol said, “Hello, darling.”

Sybil gave her a tentative smile. As Carol took her hand, linking their fingers, she had a sudden flash of Alanna and Lloyd holding hands. She said, “Are you coming home?”

Sybil tightened her fingers. “Maybe. Can you give me a good reason to?”

“I miss you.”

“Not bad, but have you something better?”

“Jeffrey really misses you.”

“That,” said Sybil, “just might do it.”