chapter 3

At the very edge of Summer Bay, in a little town called Summerhill, on top of the hill which in ancient times had been the site of an Aboriginal settlement, stood the "hell houses", once the grand homes of the wealthy, but now an area of rundown slums. In hot, dry weather broken drains often made the air smell putrid and the weeks leading up to that Easter had been exceptionally hot with very little rain. The smell hit their nostrils the moment they stepped out of the car. Little Kane Phillips didn't bat an eyelid.

"Best if ya don't breathe in," he advised, kicking an empty beer can along the path, noticing the teacher had his hand over his mouth, but totally oblivious to the crackle of menace in the air as a small group of men across the road intently studied both Ron Wilson and Ron Wilson's sleek red car.

"G'day, Ron! Long time, no see!"

As if he'd already been watching, Richie "Gus" Phillips appeared suddenly in the doorway, making the principal jump, and the threat of danger from the group relaxed a gear, though Ron sensed he was still being closely monitored.

Kane stopped the kicking game and looked warily at his father and back at the beer can. You never knew if Dad was going to be drunk or not so you tried never to make a noise or draw attention to yourself till you checked it out, but sometimes, though he knew he shouldn't, he forgot and played.

"It's not a social visit, Richie," Ron said uneasily. "I need to speak with you about Kane."

"Yeh? And I thought you was just givin' my kid a lift home 'cos he was crook. You wasn't too peachy at brekkie, was ya, mate?" Richie smiled down at his small son, who remembered the morning and the cereal dish smashing against the wall, and decided maybe now was a good time to get his father on side.

"Dad, ya know the cops never catch ya nickin' stuff? I keep gettin' caught so Mr Wilson's gonna help me stop gettin' caught," he piped up innocently.

Jeez, what the hell'd he said? There was a terrifying look in his Dad's eyes that chilled him to the bone.

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It was like old times, like going home, Dani thought nostalgically.

Tasha owned the caravan park now but Flynn and Sally Saunders ran it for her and when they'd had the chance of a round-the-world trip they'd asked Shelley and Rhys, the previous owners, if they would step in. It was an arrangement that suited everyone. Rhys was semi-retired and, apart from occasionally being asked to give talks on his days as a footie star, his main hobbies these days were fishing and walking, while Shelley was able to travel around quite easily in her work as a counsellor.

Things had been a bit strained in the Bay to begin with because most of the Hunter family still lived there, but it was a long time ago since Rhys Sutherland and Beth Hunter had had a relationship and Beth had moved on too. While they were never exactly going to be friends, Beth and Shelley were at least civil enough to one another, and, besides, the Sutherlands had something else on their minds. They were at last close enough to their grandson. At last close enough again to influence Kirsty.

"G'day, mate! How you doing?" Rhys was in the caravan park's private garden, repairing part of the fence that had blown down in the strong winds.

"You want me to build a new fence round the garden for you, Grandad?" Jamie asked, with all the self assurance of five years old, quite confident that he could.

"Ah...no thanks, we'll be right," Rhys said, exchanging an amused look with Dani as he gently punched his little grandson on the arm man-to-man . "Tell you what though, matey, I need someone to get the lemmo out the fridge, this is thirsty work,"

"No worries!" Jamie ran off to the kitchen.

But Rhys Sutherland's grandson couldn't help glancing back, wondering. Yup, he was right! There again. Secrets nobody wanted him to know. Anniedani, nodding at something Grandad said, and Grandad, running his fingers through his hair like he was worried about something.

Grandad did that whenever he talked to Jamie's Dad too. There was something about Jamie's Dad that some people, even Gran and Grandad, didn't like, but they never told Jamie why and he had a feeling they didn't want him to ask.

All Jamie knew about the secrets was that his Dad got sad when he talked about when he was a kid and sometimes cried. He wiped his eyes fast if Jamie was around though and he and Mum thought Jamie never once saw. It was nearly Dad's birthday and even if only Jamie and his Mum liked his Dad, they liked him heaps. Jamie had thought of a neat idea of how to make things better for him.

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Dad had sent him up to his room (for effect, Kane knew, not because anyone gave a damn what he did) so he was watching from the window as Mr Wilson checked something out on his car. Musta had his mirror broke or door deliberately scratched, it was what they usually did round these parts to say they didn't like stickybeaks here asking their stickybeak questions.

Kane chewed together the four sticks of gum that he'd robbed from old Nosey Parker's store (ha, didn't get caught every time!) and blew up the biggest pink bubble to ever burst against his face, watching with great interest as Scotty came round the corner, spotted the principal and dived quickly behind a low wall.

"Kane! You get your butt down here right now!"

Kane sighed, deposited the half-chewed gum on the window pane for later, and took the banister downstairs, a much slower method of transport than walking because the stairwell turning meant he had to alight halfway to catch the next banister.

But he was in no hurry. Mr Wilson coming round was no big deal. Kane and Scott were always getting into strife at school. If Dad'd been drunk and Mum gone out that really would've been something to worry about! But Dad hadn't started drinking yet and Mum was at home. He jumped off the final banister and was ambling leisurely towards the kitchen when a blow like a sledgehammer caught the side of his face.

"That'll teach ya to keep me waitin'!" Richie said as his fist came towards him again.

"Muuum!" Kane yelled urgently, startled and frightened at this unexpected turn of events.

Diane Phillips turned. She looked pale without her make-up but she'd gone back to bed in the arvo and hadn't had time to re-do her face. She was sitting at the kitchen table smoking and she flicked some ash into a cracked saucer.

Kane waited for her to jump up, like she always did, like she'd jumped up that morning when Dad had thrown the cereal dish and Kane had been quicker and ducked. He waited for her to say the usual stuff, the stuff that always got Dad to stop if he wasn't drunk, like she had that morning, when she'd roared, "Leave the kids alone, Richie, or I walk!"

And he waited for her to make Dad stop.

And he waited.

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Jade Miller sang along to the car radio, the usual rush of excitement sweeping over her as she turned left at the roadsign for Summer Bay. She hadn't phoned anyone. It had been a spur of the moment decision.

Seb was away for a week training with the paraplegic basketball team he was captain of and, Jade had decided to drive down and see her family. But it was Kirsty she wanted to see first.

Even though Jade wasn't technically a Sutherland, they had sworn they always would be twins to each other. The Bay always would be Jade's home, where she'd argued and laughed and fought and dreamed dreams with Kirsty and Dani, where she'd first met and fallen in love with Seb Miller.

They broke up when they were still teenagers, after Seb had been crippled in a tragic car accident, but a chance meeting years later had resulted in them falling in love all over again, and they had come here to marry last spring.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught the first picturesque glimpse of Summer Bay. The church spire towering into the sky, the trees shivering in the wind, the sea dotted with sailing boats, water skiiers and surfers. On an impulse, she drove down to a quiet spot on the coastal road, rolled down the car window and breathed in the freshness of the sea breezes. Much as she loved the pace and excitement of city life, it was good to get back to the timeless magic of the Bay.

The church bells were ringing, bringing back memories of her wedding day, making her smile. For over a hundred years now the old church had been conducting Summer Bay weddings and christening and funerals...

Jade started, stricken with guilt. How could she have forgotten? How could she possibly have forgotten the anniversary of Kirsty losing the baby? But, unbelievably, inexcusably, she had.

She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, her mood suddenly sombre, thinking back to the dark days when nobody knew if her "twin" would live or die after the kidney transplant operation. Until then, nobody believed Kane Phillips truly loved Kirsty, but then, whenever he could be, he was with her, every second, every day, by her side, hurting for her, almost breathing for her. Where her twin should have been, would have been, if Jade hadn't still been reeling from the shock of discovering she'd been swapped at birth and was actually meant to be Laura de Groot.

It was hard to forgive herself even now for abandoning Kirsty. If Kane hadn't been constantly around, maybe she'd never have left, but he was there, where Jade used to be, taking Jade's place...

A car beeped its horn, shaking her back into the present. Maybe it was a better idea to go see Mum and Dad (she'd never stop thinking of Rhys and Shelley as her parents) and catch up with Kirsty later.

The sun was still bright, the church bells still ringing, the sea still dotted busily with people and boats. Yet the day had changed.

The hill where the hell houses had once stood, now a national park, seemed to look down on the Bay with a strange, brooding atmosphere and cloud shadows floated gloomily across the rough waters.

And, as if it knew of the deaths to come, a cold ocean wind tore ominously across the waves.