Lighthouse Bay Read Online Free PDF Page A

had mistaken the bag for a jellyfish, then choked on it. Rubbish, especially plastic rubbish, was now the leading killer of sea turtles in these parts.
    Juliet wished that Tristan Catherwood were standing beside her right now. “Sustainable, Tristan?” she would ask. “How are you going to stop all those tourists from unwittingly killing our native marine life?”
    Juliet sighed, turning her eyes out to sea. The breeze lifted her long brown hair and tugged at her loose cotton dress. She didn’t understand why the whole world was so seduced by the idea of bigger, better, more. What was wrong with things staying the way they were? She cast a glance towards the old lighthouse, thinking of Libby. Lighthouse Bay had always been too small for her, and Juliet had been so glad when she’d left. She’d never expected her sister to come back. She still didn’t fit, with her glossy dark hair and her unlined white skin, looking as though she’d never worried about anything. Twenty years in Paris, doing . . . Well, Juliet didn’t really know what Libby had been doing in Paris. Butif she thought she could come back and take half the business she was mistaken. Juliet had done all the work. Perhaps she could remortgage and pay Libby out. Juliet felt her mind whirl with the particular brand of crazy that thinking about money induced. She stopped herself, told herself to focus on the moment at hand.
    Late-afternoon shadows were making their way across the sand. Juliet trudged back up towards home to call Coastcare. They would want to come and take the turtle, cut it up and examine it to see what had killed it. But what had killed it was obvious: progress for the sake of progress, without care or conscience. The stock in Tristan Catherwood’s trade.
    B y ten o’clock each night, everything was usually perfectly quiet. All the jobs had been done, the kitchen and tea room were clean, the guests were asleep, the paperwork was filled in and filed. That’s when Juliet finally relaxed with a pot of tea for an hour before bed. Tonight, she had an overnight guest in her apartment: her friend and co-worker Cheryl’s seven-year-old daughter. Cheryl worked one night shift a week at the surf club to help pay for private school fees. As a single mother, she had few late-night childcare options, so Juliet helped out. Katie had been fast asleep by eight on the roll-out bed in Juliet’s bedroom.
    Juliet closed the spreadsheet on her computer and opened the Internet browser, and started poking around the same old sites. It was a warm evening, and she leaned over to slide open a window. She could hear the sea but, maddeningly, couldn’t see it. Ten years ago she had moved out of the apartment that faced the water and turned it into two B&B rooms. She’d moved here into the back apartment, hoping at the time it would be temporary: that marriage and children would mean a move to somewhere bigger. But hereshe still was. Juliet didn’t mind the size of the apartment so much. She had an industrial kitchen downstairs if she wanted to spread out and cook something ambitious, and it was easier to keep a small place clean considering her busy hours. What she minded was that there had been no marriage, there had been no children. Now, at thirty-eight, she felt herself being dragged through an ever-narrowing window. If she wanted to be married and have babies before the window closed, she had to meet Mr. Right four years ago.
    The door to her bedroom opened and Katie stood there in her pajamas, blinking against the light.
    “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Juliet said.
    “I had a bad dream.” The little girl padded over and climbed onto Juliet’s lap, snuggling against her. “Where’s Mummy?”
    “She’s still working. She’ll be here to get you in the morning.” Juliet stroked Katie’s fair hair. “Are you going to help me with the breakfasts in the morning?”
    Katie shrugged. She was dazed with sleep.
    “Don’t worry about bad dreams. They