THE BEACH AT MIDNIGHT
(A novellette)

## MONDAY EVENING
A customer at last, thought Sandra Manning. The week she'd spent in charge of the service station had been among the quietest ever. She could hardly wait for the busy season.
"A customer !" piped up a voice behind Sandra. "Can I go?" Sandra whirled around to face the owner of the voice. "You keep forgetting, Cassie. No-one's supposed to know you're here. Right ?"
"Right Sandra. Sorry."
Sandra dashed out to the petrol pump where the day's only customer had pulled up. While Sandra filled the tank the driver asked if meals were being served, to which Sandra replied with a friendly Yes.

##
" ... and would you like tea or coffee ?" asked the waitress.
"Tea thanks."
"Steak and chips will be about fifteen minutes."
"Fine" mumbled the traveller as the waitress darted off into the kitchen. He was still winding down from the hypnotic haze produced by hours of staring at the broken white line. A good dinner in a quiet roadhouse was just what he needed.
And this one certainly was quiet. He was the only customer in the cafe and his was the only car parked outside. It looked like she ran the station by herself. She was waitress and cook and also attended the petrol pump.
She emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, plate in one hand, tea in the other. The engine hum in the traveller's ears had almost subsided gone and he began to notice how attractive the waitress was.
"Say, is it always this quiet around here ?" he asked.
She laughed. "This is the slack season. But in another two months we'll be flat out. Tourists going to Melbourne'll keep us on our toes."
"You look really beat" she observed, depositing the plate before him as she sat down. He might have taken offence, except it was true and he knew it. Also the words she spoke had a ring of kindness about them.
"Yeah. I've been driving all day" he replied between mouthfuls. "Mmm this is good. I must eat here more often."
"Thanks." She smiled. "Hope you don't think I'm being forward. Talking to you while you're eating, I mean."
"Not at all."
"It's just that it gets a bit dull around here this time of year."
"And you running this place almost by yourself. Is it yours ?" She chuckled. "No it's not mine. The owners are away and left me in charge. There's old Dave who comes in for the odd mechanical jobs but it's pretty well me who runs things. There isn't enough business to keep two people busy full time. Or even one on days like today."

##
And that was how it started. She was friendly and easy to talk to, so the traveller chatted with her long after he had finished eating. When he finally noticed the time ...
"God it's late !"
"Do you have to be somewhere by tonight ?" she asked.
"No. I'm not worried. Just surprised. I took three weeks off especially to go on a driving holiday around the coast. I'm not going anywhere in particular. Just wherever I want. To really get away from everything and everyone."
"Sounds great. Wish I could afford to do that. And you needed a break ?"
"God, if you were stuck behind a desk all day ... Oh sorry. I'd better not start. You probably have whinges about your job too."
"Sure do" she responded brightly. "Say, why don't you stay the night here ?"
"In a roadhouse ?"
"Now you're the one being silly. There's the Regent just across the road. It's not quite the Hilton but ..."
"Sounds good to me. Think I'll go right now. Well it's been lovely talking to you ..."
"Hey, we've been yakking away for hours and don't even know each others names. I'm Sandra Manning."
"Paul Jacobsen" replied the traveller shaking her hand.
"See you tomorrow Paul. Good night."

##
Soon after Paul left, Sandra returned to the kitchen.
"Cute isn't he ?" remarked Cassie.
"You peeked at him ?" exclaimed Sandra. "I hope he didn't spot you."
"Don't worry. I'm pretty sneaky."
"Yeah and not slow with the guys are you ?" countered Sandra. "Thank God or else I'd be like you. Aged twenty two and destined to be an old maid."
"It's better than being an old tart."
"Very catty, darling sister. I know that you fancy him as much as I do."
"So you're going after him ?" asked Sandra, ignoring the last remark.
"Why not ? You certainly won't. And this is such a boring little town."
"Careful, Cass. Just don't you forget why you're hiding in the boring little town."
"I know. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

## MONDAY MIDNIGHT
It was a pleasantly warm and bright moonlit night. Finding the bath he'd taken refreshing, Paul decided to go for a walk, so he headed for the nearby beach.
Standing at the edge of the thick band of scrub, he gazed out at the ocean. Bands of moonlight danced and shimmered on the black water. He sat down slowly and sifted the fine sand through his fingers.
It was so peaceful. No cars passing on the road behind. No sound, save the occasional wave breaking on the shore. No-one around except Paul Jacobsen. God, it was good to get away from the city for a while. His mind filled with cliches about mad city life versus the tranquillity of the country. Who needed sleep ? He felt like sitting there all night, surrounded by serenity.
He gazed again at the bands of moonlight on the water. Out of the corner of his eye and in the distance, he saw one of the bands ripple. He slowly turned his head and squinted. Something rose from that same band of light. An animated silhouette.
Keeping behind the scrub, Paul tiptoed closer. When he looked again it was gone. Then there was a ripple closeby. The same silhouette, clearer now, emerged. It was a she.
The glistening naked figure of a young woman stood profiled to the moonlight. It was an image straight out of his dreams. She slowly shook a long wet mane of hair, then turned toward the beach. As though in slow motion, she cake-walked in Paul's direction.
Paul was sure he hadn't been seen yet. He continued to stare at her, wondering should he risk shattering the sheer poetry of this moment by approaching her.
She glided in front of him, so close. Despite the will of his eyes, he forced himself to concentrate on her face. She looked like ... Sandra the waitress.
But he couldn't be sure. He stood up to get a closer look ... which was a silly thing to do. In the total silence, his hand brushed past a bush ...
Her head snapped towards the swishing bush. Now she'd seen him for sure. He stood absolutely still, expecting to hear her scream or see her run.
But she didn't. Continuing in a slow motion cakewalk she approached him. He wanted to touch her, to convince himself that he was not dreaming.
She stopped two paces from him. He looked into her face. Sandra's face, he was certain. Her hand extended towards his shoulder. For a moment he thought she would touch him.
Then she looked beyond and behind him, giggled, then pointed. He turned his head to where she pointed and saw ... nothing. He returned his gaze to her ... but she was gone.
Vanished. Like an apparition. Good reasons to believe he had imagined it all. A trick of the light or his own fantasies let loose from their subconscious cages.
But this he could not believe. The bands of moonlight continued to shimmer as he reluctantly walked away from fantasy beach.
Concealed by a nearby rock, the glistening, naked Cassie giggled silently. He's all mine now, she thought.

## TUESDAY MORNING
"Mmm. Scrambled eggs are as good as your steak and chips."
"Thanks Paul. Want some more ?"
"Better not. Have to watch the waistline."
"You've no worries there. I'm the one who has to count calories."
He smirked. "Let's make a deal, Sandra. You watch mine and I'll watch yours."
She laughed aloud. "That sounds disgusting. You're awful. Did you sleep well ?"
"Yes thanks, but I wasn't as tired after all, so I went for a walk first."
"To take in the sights of our fair town by night ?" she asked merrily. "See anything ?"
What could he say ? Why did he mention the walk ? "Oh just the beach."
"Yeah it's a good beach. Pity it isn't hotter or I'd go for a swim."
Odd, thought Paul.
"It was pleasant last night. I considered going in for a dip." "You must be tougher than me. I don't go near the water unless it's at least thirty degrees c."
So it wasn't her. Unless she teasing. Or playing a game. If it were a game, it was over his head.
"So you're leaving today ?"
He hesitated. "Errr ... I thought I'd stay a while longer. I ... " - Think quick, brain ! - "I'm not tied to a timetable."
"Then you're not married ?" She asked this casually, as one acquaintance to another, with no apparent lustful intentions ... unfortunately !
"I was once."
"Sorry. Shouldn't have asked."
"That's OK. Anyway I like it here. Peace and quiet and all that."
"Plenty of that here. Downright dull is another way of putting it. Will you be eating here ? Say yes, so the boss can afford to pay me when he gets back."
"How can I refuse ? I'll keep you employed as long as possible."
"Thanks". She smiled ... so much like the girl last night.

##
Paul left soon after breakfast. Sandra returned to the kitchen and a small pile of dishes. Cassie stood around looking bored.
"Last night was a lark" said Cassie.
"Must have been. I caught the look in his eyes" replied Sandra.
"He probably thought it was you cavorting naked on the beach." Sandra ignored the teasing tone in Cassie's voice. Long ago she'd learned that no malice was intended. "Yeah, in the dark you and I look practically identical. Cass, are you sure it was wise to meet Paul like that ? I mean, there is just a chance he might know ..."
"Oh Sandra you're such a fusspot. How likely is it that he knows anyone from our hometown ?"
Sandra let it pass. "Are you going to meet him again ?"
"Of course. But only at night, of course - to be safe and to ease your worried nerves. Stop worrying. I won't do anything mother wouldn't approve of."
"It's not mother I'm worried about" replied Sandra.

## TWENTY TWO YEARS AGO
Mrs Mary Manning opened her eyes and gazed sleepily at her husband. She tried to sit up in the hospital bed, but her strength gave out and she collapsed back onto the overstuffed pillows.
"Relax, darling" said her husband. Bill Manning kissed his wife, who was still exhausted.
"They're beautiful, darling" he said, patting her limp hand. "You're not disappointed, Bill ?" she asked, still a little breathless. "I know how much you wanted a son."
"Disappointed ? No fear, my love. You're still young. We have plenty of time to have lots of sons. Lots of boys to run the farm when I'm gone."
Mary Manning did not share her husband's enthusiasm for a large brood. Doc Linnett (the town medic she'd known all her life) had warned her to expect difficulties with the birth of her first child. And, if his prediction were confirmed, future deliveries would not be any easier. But Mary Manning did not dare tell her husband, and she'd pleaded with Doc Linnett not to tell him either.
She simply replied "Yes, love."
"You haven't seen them yet have you ?" declared Bill with enthusiasm. "Linnett told me you fell asleep just after they popped out."
I passed out, Bill, thought Mary, but she did not have the energy to contradict him. Today of all days.
"I was tired" said Mary.
"Twin girls" sighed Bill. "Our own pair of little angels. I'll just get the nurse to bring them in."
Bill pressed the buzzer and the nurse appeared moments later. Seeing Mrs Manning awake, she darted out to fetch the children. The nurse returned wheeling the sleeping infants in a twin display crib. She placed one each side of Mrs Manning.
"That'll be all for now, Jenny" said Bill to the nurse who then departed. She would normally have stayed with the mother until the babies were to be returned. But Bill Manning had asked her to leave, and most people in the town knew better than to go against "Mad" Manning.
Back in the ward, Bill cooed over his new daughters. "Look at them, Mary. Aren't they just the most wonderful sight you ever saw ?"
Mary could only marvel at her husband's light mood. The townspeople had long ago dubbed him Mad Manning and with good reason. He had the hottest temper of any man she had ever met and was built like a combine harvester. Mary could not remember the last time she had seen Bill in such a gentle and caring mood.
"They look very similar, Bill. Will they be identical twins ?" "I noticed that too, so I asked the Doc. He said very similar but not identical. Still I reckon near enough is good enough. They'll both grow up to be good, pretty and well-behaved girls. I even have their names picked out. Sandra and Cassandra. What do you think, honey ?"
"Lovely, Bill." Mary had given little thought to girl's names. From the time her condition was discovered, Bill had talked of nothing but what his first son would be like.
"Good then it's settled. Two similar names for two similar girls. But they'll be identical in nature. Both sweet, pure and lovely."
That was to be Bill Manning's big disappointment.

## TUESDAY MIDNIGHT
Paul Jacobsen walked to the beach at midnight again. The moon shone though not as brightly. A cool breeze blew. The scrub swished lightly against his arm as he stood waiting for her, the apparition, to glide past again.
It was definitely too cold for a swim tonight. He wore a long sleeved shirt and trousers and shivered a little. Yet She did not disappoint.
She arose before his eyes from the water like the Lady of the Lake. Again she turned toward the shore, and waded forward in exquisite, fluid slow motion.
He stepped out from behind the bush. She reached the shore and continued irresistibly toward him. He stood transfixed. She held out both arms and smiled. He stepped forward slowly, his arms also outstretched.
Her hands touched his. He knew at last that she was real. They folded together in symmetry and her lips found his, again and again, disengaging only for occasional breath.
The rest of that night lingered in his memory as a montage of shimmering sensual impressions in soft focus. Her marble-smooth skin, clothed only by glittering droplets of water. A smile, exposing her white luminescent teeth, the only part of her he could clearly see, other than in silhouette. The soft laughter as he found her ticklish spots. The smell of the salt, sand and sea breeze, mixed in with the perfume uniquely her's. Her graceful form running away as he tried to take her a third time, only to pretend to stumble, grab him as he tripped over, hold him down and force HIM to submit.
He left her sleeping on the beach shortly before sunrise.

##
Cassie stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. Still drying her hair she walked over to Sandra, in bed, and sat down beside to her.
"He was wonderful, San" gushed Cassie. "Don't you wish you weren't such an old prude ? Lighten up once in a while ? The pleasures of the flesh as our dear old Pastor used call them are not at all overrated."
Sandra smiled and shook her head. "How dare you call me old ?" she said in mock outrage. "I'm the same age as you. And as far as fornication goes, another word our dear old Pastor was fond of, you do it enough for both of us."

## SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
"... And may The Lord look kindly upon the soul of our sister Mary Manning as we consign her body to the earth from which we all came. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ..."
Practically the whole small town had heard the pious words which Pastor Barry Worth spoke at Mary Manning's funeral. Several hours after the funeral, clean-faced young Pastor Worth found himself in earnest discussion with crusty old Doc Linnett.
"I'm feel no real sadness for Mary Manning" commented the Pastor. "She's assured a place in heaven if only for putting up with Bill."
"Amen to that" rasped the Doc.
"The children are what concern me" continued the Pastor. "How is a raging bull like Bill Manning going to cope with bringing up twin five year old girls and a two year old boy ? He'll simply have to marry again if only for the children's sake."
"Manning ? Marry again ?" exclaimed the Doc. "He was dead-lucky to catch Mary. Listen Barry, I brought poor Mary into the world. Knew her all her life. And I still can't figure out why she married Bill. There were plenty of other boys who'd gladly have taken a sweet girl like her. But how many women do you know who could even tolerate Bill Manning ?"
Pastor Worth sighed. "You're right, Doc. I'll pray every day that he'll find someone but I feel it will take more than that."
"You're damn right it will. If he finds a woman who'll live with him, I'll start going to church again, 'cos it'd be the first miracle I'd ever seen with my own eyes."
"So what can be done in the meantime ?" asked the Pastor. "He made a terrific start at being a sole parent : showing the children their mother's dead body. I asked him about that. He said it was to show them that she wouldn't be coming back."
Doc Linnett scratched his chin. "Well, sometimes it's a good idea to show someone the body of a dead loved one. Some people never quite believe a person's gone if they don't see it with their own eyes. But I don't think it was such a good idea for a couple of young kids."

##
Meanwhile, Bill Manning was trying to put his young daughters to bed. But they were restless.
"Why did Mummy go away, Daddy ?" asked Cassandra. "Were we bad?" Bill looked at Cassandra by the lamplight and held her little face lovingly in his giant hands. "No, honey. The Lord in His wisdom decided it was time for her to go to heaven. I can't understand why, but He knows better than us."
"You mean God wanted Mummy with him, so he killed her ?" countered Cassandra. "That's horrible. I hate God. I'm never going to believe in him again." She shook her head out of her father's hold. But he regained hold and continued.
"That's a bad thing to say, Cassie. When you say your prayers tonight you'd better ask for forgiveness."
"I'm not saying my prayers tonight Daddy. I'll never talk to God again."
Bill was surprised. Neither of his daughters had ever answered him back before. And so it was that Cassie had her first argument with Daddy.
Cassie lost and ended up saying her prayers. But if there was a moment at which Cassie started to go against her Daddy, that was it.

## WEDNESDAY MORNING
"Hey !" yelled Sandra. "Take your hand off my bottom. We don't know each other that well." She was friendly yet firm. Definitely no go.
Paul knew it was a stupid thing to do. But after last night at the beach he was so sure ...
"I don't mind the occasional slap on the backside as long as it's friendly. God knows it's a big enough target. But don't push it, OK ?"
Again, she said it in the friendliest possible manner. Paul was surprised but did not feel rebuked.
"Sorry" he mumbled, blushing.
"No worries. We're still friends aren't we ?"
"For sure."
Sandra sat down next to him. As usual business was slow. Paul had been the only customer all morning and he hadn't arrived for breakfast until ten.
"Do you often sleep in ?" she asked.
He didn't, and he didn't want to be drawn on the subject of last night. He leapt upon the first change of subject that crossed his mind.
"Say, you said something before ... what was it ? Oh yes, that we don't know each other very well. OK let's fix that."
"Fine. You want to go first ?"
"Ladies before gentlemen."
"I'm not so sure you're a gentleman" she teased. "However ... "She let the word hang for a moment. "What would you like to know first ?"
"From the beginning. We have nothing but time."
"Pretty dull stuff really. Born and raised on a farm outside a small farming town up north. Mum died when I was young, so Dad had to take over. Well, Dad was alright except he had a terrible temper. Everyone kept out of his way when he put on a turn."
"The rule of an iron hand ?"
"I was his pet. He used to call me Angel. Silly, I know. He was firm but never laid a hand on me in anger."
"Sounds like you were lucky."
She jumped. "What do you mean ?" For the first time she looked frightened.
"If he was such a terror, and he did strike you when he was on the rampage, you could have been in real strife."
"Yeah." She was silent for a minute or so, then continued.
"Yeah. He was pretty good to us on the whole."
"Us ?"
"Yes. Three kids. He did have a hell of a time bringing us up alone."
"Three of you ? I'd say he did very well. You and two brothers ?"
"No, a baby brother, and a twin sister."
Sister ?
"Identical twins ?"
"Not really. We looked fairly alike. Sometimes we'd dress up like each other and fool a few of the townspeople.
"Dad wanted us to be the same but we definitely were not. I was Daddy's girl, Cassie was everybody's girl. Well, that's what Dad called her when he told her off, which was pretty often."
"Bit of a runaround ?"
"She wasn't as bad as Dad made her out to be, but there were times when she wasn't very ... choosy. But d'you see what I mean about wanting us to be the same ? He chose our names. Sandra and Cassandra. We were to be his two little Angels. But Cass let him down. And all because she wanted to be different from me. And so she ..."
She broke off. "Oh sorry. I shouldn't go on like that. You're probably getting bored with all this drivel."
"No I'm not" he replied gently. "Do go on. Are your brother and sister still on the farm ?"
"No. Jim ... he's three years younger ... left when he was fifteen. I get a letter from him every now and then. Moves around a lot."
"And Cassie ?"
"She ... left home the same day. She'd finally had enough of Dad's temper. He ... beat her a few times."
"Sorry Sandra. I shouldn't have asked."
"No it's OK. It helps to talk ... as long as I don't dwell on it. I stayed on a little while, but life wasn't any fun without Jim or Cassie. I ... searched for Cass for a while, but didn't find her. Guess she wanted to go somewhere Dad couldn't find her.
"Sorry I'm depressing you again." She stood up. "Just a sec. I'll get you a family photo."
She produced a framed portrait photo from behind the counter. At first glance it looked like any other posed family shot. Proud Father towering over and standing behind his daughters, right and centre, and son, left. His hands rested strongly on one daughter, left, and son, right. All faces wore smiles, but ...
The man fitted perfectly with Paul's image of a cow cockie. Wide brim hat, Solid jaw, massive shoulders. Certainly a man used to having his word obeyed. And the broad, open grin did nothing to neutralise his eyes, wild and cruel.
Sandra pointed to herself in the photo, but she need not have bothered. True, they were alike, but again the eyes told a story. Although the girl at the centre of the photo (Cassie) beamed a heart-melting smile, her eyes were those of a mouse being teased by a cat. (It may have been dark on the beach at midnight, but Paul remembered that same look in the girl's eyes). Jim (left) looked simply a little scared. On the other hand, Sandra appeared relaxed and completely at ease.
Paul looked up at Sandra. "And you haven't seen her for years ... Cassie, I mean ... you're really sure ?"
"Certain. Why do you ask ?"
"I ... I thought I saw her walking ... down the road today. Here in town."
She laughed. "Don't be silly. You think that in a town this size I'd miss my own sister ?"
"I'm sorry Sandra. I say stupid things sometimes."
What could he say ? Hey Sandra, I've been meeting your missing sister on the beach at midnight.
No. No good. He'd have to ask the girl at the beach. Whoever she was. Funny though. She didn't seem to want to say much.

##
Sandra and Cassie were giggling in the kitchen after Paul had left.
"You sure can tell a good story, Sandra" chuckled Cassie. "I liked the bit about you searching for me all these years." "Well that's what sisters are for, Cass."
But Cassie's face suddenly more serious. "I'm a little worried though. You told him an awful lot of the truth. I thought you wanted to be really careful."
Sandra nodded soberly. "I suppose what you said last night is getting to me. I don't take many risks do I ?"
"That's the difference between us, San. You're cheerful and chatty with men but basically afraid of sex, whereas I'm not very talkative but very forward with men."
"I guess it's because I really like Paul. There, Cass, I've admitted it. See, I'm getting better."
"I wish you hadn't said that, San. That means we're now in competition."
"Why ? He's just another body to you. Haven't you told me all your life that all boys are the same ?"
"I might be going back on my word now, San. I think I'm in love with him."

## TWELVE YEARS AGO
"C'mon kids, keep still" urged Bill Manning. "We haven't got all day. Sandra, get your sister to stop jumping around. This is the last one, then we can go."
Sandra, now ten, tapped Cassie's shoulder. Cassie turned around sharply. "Let's get this done" said Sandra. Cassie nodded.
They all moved into position. Bill at the back, Sandra in front to his right, Cassie in the centre, Jim at the left. Symons the photographer cracked a lame joke to make them laugh, then took the picture quickly.
Symons the photographer, a quivering little man, breathed a sigh of relief as Bill Manning left. He was glad the session had gone without any serious mishap. Mad Manning had always been a volcanic so-and-so, but since his wife's death he had become, if anything, worse. It seemed that only the children were spared his wrath. It seemed ...

##
A few days later, Bill Manning came storming into the photographer's shop. Sandra and Cassie ran in behind him.
"Symons, where are you ?" roared Bill.
Symons rushed up to the counter. "Yes Bill ?" he quavered. "What's the meaning of this ?" roared Bill as he slammed a piece of paper on the shop counter.
Symons picked up the paper and examined it. It was the account he'd sent Bill Manning for the photographic session.
"What's wrong Bill ?" asked Symons, trying to appear calm.
"You overcharged me, that's what !"
"I-I'll check and let you know if I've made a mistake." Symons was sure it was correct but he dare not say it to Manning's face.
"See that you do !" roared Bill, thumping the counter one more time for effect. "No-one fleeces Bill Manning ! I tell you ..."
Bill trailed off as he noticed Sandra tugging at his elbow. "Daddy please calm down" pleaded his favourite daughter in a little voice. "You're scaring Mr Symons."
Symons blushed. He did not like to hear the truth stated so plainly, especially by a child.
Bill looked down at Sandra. He smiled and patted her on the head. "OK Angel. Just for you I'll calm down." He turned to go. "Sandra, get Cassie. We're going."
Meanwhile, Cassie had wandered over to examine a display. She hated seeing her father making a scene. It made her feel ashamed.
Sandra grabbed Cassie by the shoulders and shook her. Cassie jumped with fright. Sandra turned Cassie around so that they faced each other.
"I'm sorry I frightened you" said Sandra, mouthing each word clearly. "We're going now."
Cassie nodded curtly and marched out ahead of her father and sister. She was disgusted.

##
Symons watched the family leave and shook his head. The nerve of that man, he thought bravely. Then he looked down and noticed a large crack in the formica. The crack had also split the wood beneath, so it was likely that Symons would need to order a new counter-top. Which was not cheap.
Symons stood staring at the crack, hypnotised. He shivered. He had known Manning was strong but he'd never seen such an impressive demonstration.
"Mr Symons ? Are you alright ?" His trance was broken by Pastor Worth's voice.
"Yes yes I'm OK. Pastor, look at my counter."
Pastor Worth let out a mild gasp.
"Manning did that" said Symons defiantly. "Just now. He came in all guns blazing because of a mistake I'd made in his account."
"Oh dear" replied the Pastor.
Symons bowed his head. "He was right, actually. I did add on the cost of one of the prints which didn't turn out. So the total price was a little high. But the cost of fixing my shop counter will be much higher."
"Are you going to send him the bill ?"
"Are you joking ?" quivered Symons. "I don't know if Manning is capable of murder but I don't want to find out from personal experience."
The Pastor nodded in amusement.
"But, you know, I'm concerned for his children" continued Symons.
"Yes Mr Symons. Doc Linnett and I have felt that concern for a number of years."
"I watched little Cassie just walk away while Bill thumped my counter the way you, Pastor, sometimes thump your pulpit."
The Pastor smirked. "Perhaps I'd better induct Bill Manning as a lay preacher."
"The sin rate in the town would drop dramatically. But back to Cassie. Isn't it sad ? A lovely girl like that gradually losing her hearing. And Bill doesn't seem to give a damn about it."
"A shame" replied the Pastor. "Doc Linnett tells me she'll be totally deaf by the age of eighteen. Doc's doing all he can for her, and Sandra's been wonderful. Because of her support, Cassie at least should develop a good measure of self confidence."
Symons smacked himself on the forehead. "Oh I'm sorry Pastor. I've been standing here complaining and kept you waiting. Can I help you ..."

## WEDNESDAY MIDNIGHT
Midnight again saw Paul on the beach. All the pieces were still there : the breeze, the bright moon, the shimmering ocean ... and her.
Again she came to him out of the water. Again she slithered toward him, the leotard of water droplets glistening at every step. She stood in front of him.
Her face bathed in moonlight, he cupped her temples with his hands, letting his fingers trickle down her cheeks and throat. Looking straight at her, he whispered "Cassie ?"
She smiled, nodded slowly, then mouthed the word "Yes" as she exhaled. The soft breathy Yes echoed in his head as she tenderly grasped his descending fingers, raised them to her lips and butterfly kissed them one by one.
Cassie looked up at him again. Her lips mouthed the words "Your Cassie" and, as before, she exhaled at the same time, giving the words that same breathy softness.
But what did she mean ? Your Cassie ? You're Cassie, perhaps ? No, stupid, he chided himself, she meant "I'm your Cassie". "You're mine ?" he asked softly.
She nodded slowly, placed his hands back where they had been, just below her shoulders, and kissed him.
It was quite some time before he was able to ask her more questions, but even then, each time he did, her reply was a kiss. Or a hug. Or a tickling match. In fact, anything except an answer.
As he left her that morning, again just before dawn, he left satisfied, yet unsatisfied. His body and emotions gave assurance that there was nothing wrong, that he was onto a "good thing". But as he walked back to his room, a wild vortex of questions swirled in his mind. Did Cassie not want her sister to know she was here ? If so, why ? According to Sandra, they were close and on very good terms.
Perhaps it was not as simple as Sandra had described. Did Sandra has something to hide ? Did Cassie ? And if so, why had she come here ?
If he could just get Cassie to talk to him. It seemed she wanted him kept in the dark. Dark as the beach at midnight. Then an idea began to emerge from the vortex, in the same way as Cassie had risen from the sea.

##
Cassie took her usual shower, then sat down next to Sandra, in bed.
"You look worried, Sis" yawned Sandra.
"I am" replied Cassie. "I think he's been asking questions."
"What sort of questions ?"
"I don't know. It was too dark to tell."
"Then you'd better stop seeing him."
"You think that'll make a difference, San ?"
"No I suppose not."
"You think we should take him into our confidence ? Tell him everything ?"
Sandra fingered her chin and considered this. "I want to. And I know you want to. But I really don't think we can. We don't known him well enough."
"OK San. We may not agree on everything but I respect your judgement. I must admit there were times when I could have used your caution."

## EIGHT YEARS AGO
Jim, now eleven, charged into Sandra's room. Sandra, now fourteen, sat in front of the mirror doing her hair.
"Sandra ! Dad's beating up Cassie again !"
Sandra sighed resignedly. "Oh no. The one thing I've never been able to stop him doing."
Sandra trudged wearily down to the back yard as Jim ran ahead. They found Cassie bruised and sobbing, lying on the back lawn, face down.
"Dad's gone ... back to the tractor" Cassie said, between gasps.
"There, there, just lie still" said Sandra in a soothing voice. She was glad Dad had finally bought Cassie a hearing aid last year. Otherwise she'd have had to turn Cassie over to speak to her. She quickly frisked her sister for broken bones. Dad hadn't managed to do that much damage yet, but Sandra would not be surprised the day he did. "OK Jim, give me a hand."
They helped Cassie into the house. She could only just walk.
"Jim, you fix the bed. I'll give Cass a shower."
Sandra took off Cassie's clothes expertly and quickly. They were bloodstained in places. She put the toilet seat down, sat Cassie on it and studied her sister's cuts and bruises.
Dad seemed to have a thing about faces. He'd never hit anyone in the face. But anywhere else was fair game. This time the bruises were spread over nearly every part of Cassie's fine young body. It was her worst beating ever.
"Where does it hurt, Cass ?" asked Sandra.
Cassie managed a smile. "It'd be quicker to say where it doesn't."
Jim popped his head through the door. "Bed's ready. How's the patient ?"
Sandra shook her head. "You're incredible, Cass. No matter how badly he treats you, you can still smile." Then, to Jim "The patient is fine. It's only her body that's in bad shape." They all chuckled at the lame joke.
Jim surveyed his sister's battered body. Neither Cassie nor Sandra minded Jim seeing them naked. He was only eleven and after all he was their brother, whom both loved more than their brutish father. The three siblings formed a close, tightly-knit unit.
"I'll say !" commented Jim. "Cass looks like a dalmatian dog."
They all laughed, though Cassie weakly.
Sandra showered Cassie carefully, then helped her to the bedroom (just across from the bathroom) where Jim had covered the bed with thick towels.
If this sounds like a precision operation, it's became so out of necessity and practice. Sandra and Jim had both done first aid training at school, and had gained their share of practice at home on Cassie. Dad had only hit Jim once, and that was more accident than intent, and he would never hit Sandra. But Cassie had been a constant target.
Cassie lay down on top of the towels on her back. Sandra carefully dried her and looked for spots which would need bandaging or disinfecting. Jim stood ready to assist with the first aid kit.
"You're so good at this" remarked Cassie with effort. "You'd better keep your promise and go into nursing when you grow up."
"And I'm going to be an ambulance driver" piped up Jim. "Good on you ... Ow !"
"Yep" said Sandra, with a deft dab. "A bandage there for sure."
"More training needed, San" said Cassie. "But you'll improve with practise."
Sandra's face became serious. "What was the reason this time, Cass ?"
"The usual. Boys."
"How do you keep track of all those boys ?"
Cassie shrugged. "Who keeps track ?"
"But you know that every time you go out with a boy, Dad's going to think you slept with him. And he'll call you all sorts of awful names and beat you up for being a tart. So why do you do it ?"
"I don't sleep with a boy very often" replied Cassie matter-of-factly. "Only when I feel like it. Funny thing is, Dad's never managed to find out when and where I did it. And every time he's bashed me, it's been for a time when the most I gave the boy was a good night kiss."
Jim piped up again. "He shouldn't hit you. When I grow up, and get big and strong, I'm going to thump the crap out of him. Then he'll know what it feels like."
"Don't swear, Jim" Sandra chided. Then, to Cassie : "Couldn't you cut down a bit, Cass ? I mean, say `No' more often ?" Cassie sat up painfully. "You ... (Ugh) ... should say `Yes' occasionally, Sandra. Sex is a lot of fun, you know."
"Stop evading the question" snapped Sandra. "We both know Dad. He's always wanted us to be his perfect little angels. He sees your ... sleeping around or whatever you like to call it and thinks that you've failed him. So he takes it out the way he knows best : bashing."
"And you think that" countered Cassie "if I stopped now, stopped altogether, that he'd stop hitting me ? The damage is done, so to speak. He'll believe I'm still doing it even if I'm not. In his eyes, I've proven myself a whore. And, as his bible tells him, a bad woman's nature doesn't change. So if he's not going to stop hitting me, I might at least make the best of it."
Sandra sighed. "Well, at least you still have your figure and haven't any permanent scars ... yet."
"Tell you what, San. I'll be a bit colder to the boys, if you start being a bit warmer. You really don't know what you're missing. Sex isn't bad as long as you're in control."
Sandra nodded. "OK Cassie it's a deal. But you'll have to teach me."
"If you want to know about boys, why not ask me ?" said Jim.
"I'm a boy. I should know."
Cassie laughed. "C'mere Jim. You too Sandra. I'm going to give you both a big hug."
"You're nuts" countered Sandra. "You'll be in agony."
"I don't care." She grabbed Jim and Sandra and held them close for as long as she could keep the pain at bay. They drew away when they could see she was in real pain.
She looked at them with tears in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you two. You're the best brother and sister a girl ever had. I ..."
She couldn't say any more. She was crying too much. Sandra stroked her hair in comfort while Jim continued to disinfect the bruises.

## THURSDAY MIDNIGHT
Paul Jacobsen again went down to the sea at midnight, and waited behind the brush, as he had done on the first night. Cassie, glistening and magnificent, rose from the sea and glided onto the beach.
But Paul remained behind the bushes. Cassie looked from side to side. Paul held his breath, waiting for her to call out for him. She sat down on the sand. He'd told her his name several times the previous night. She looked right and left anxiously. But she had not repeated his name back to him; it was as though she couldn't hear him.
Paul chose that moment to walk out toward her. She jumped up and ran to him. As she reached him, he turned away.
She darted around to face him. He turned away again. She threw her arms around his chest in a vice grip. He slipped out, spun around and ... pushed her away.
She fell back onto the sand without physical injury. The moonlight was bright enough for him to read her face, hurt and puzzled.
By ignoring and repulsing her, he was trying to provoke her into a rage similar to those her father had shown. Such characteristics were often passed down to children. Then, when she was angry, she'd surely talk to him and he'd get some answers.
He walked away from her. She grabbed him again but he easily threw her off.
She danced around in front of him, her pretty face showing disbelief and terrible hurt. Tears trickled from her eyes, joining the droplets already there, salt mixing with salt. Paul remained stonefaced. She backed away slowly. Then, as the salt trickle turned to a river, she turned and ran.
Paul stood rooted to the spot, incredulous at his own stupidity. It had never occurred to him that she would run away. He cursed himself for being so dumb. My brilliant plan had backfired, he thought.
But it was not until the next day that he was to find out how far.

##
Cassie ran all the way home, eyes blinded with tears. She bolted through the door, threw herself onto the bed and wept wildly.
Sandra was horrified. "What's wrong, Cass ?"
The words tumbled out in a tearful torrent. Why would he be so cruel to me, San, she ended up pleading ?
Sandra held her sobbing sister and stroked her sandy hair. "Perhaps he's not as nice as we thought" commented Sandra. Cassie cried herself to sleep in her sister's arms.

## FRIDAY MORNING
Paul sat down to breakfast at the roadhouse and said hello to Sandra.
"What do you want ?" she barked. "And make it quick."
He was taken aback. Sandra had never acted rudely before.
"Bacon and eggs, thanks."
"And tea ?" she snapped.
"Yes thanks. Sandra are you alright ?"
"Why shouldn't I be ?" And her eyes were even less civil than her tongue. They blazed pure hatred. He knew it wasn't a good time to ask, but he had to.
"Sandra, about your sister ..."
"You still on about her ? Why ?"
"You were close, weren't you ? I mean, you got along well?"
She subsided a little. "Of course. Best friends."
"Did you talk a lot ?"
She grew sullen. "Sort of. I talked to her a lot."
"And she to you ?"
Curt. "Not much."
"How come ?"
"If you must know" she hissed "she was deaf."
Paul gasped. "D-deaf ?" he echoed, uncertain he had heard correctly. "B-but could she talk at all ?"
"A little. I could understand her fairly well, and we could read each other's lips."
And did he feel like a prize shit then. Cassie answered none of his questions because she couldn't read his lips in the moonlight. And he'd made her cry for nothing. That was the part that really hurt.
The sound of glass smashing broke his mental self-flagellation.
"Bugger !" yelled Sandra, holding up a bleeding hand. "See what you made me do ?"
Paul went over to her. "Let me help you."
"No, no" she snapped. "You go back to your table. I'll clean it up."
"Look, if it's alright with you, Sandra, I'll come back later ... when you're feeling better."
"Suits me fine. Piss off !"
He slunk out, tail between his legs.
There was only one way he thought it could make sense. Perhaps Cassie had trouble with the police, and Sandra was hiding her. That would mean that they were seeing each other. Sandra, hearing how he'd treated her sister, got angry at him. Ironic. He had stirred up anger in the wrong sister.
But it still didn't hang together. If Cassie was hiding out, why would she risk midnight rendezvous with him ?

## FRIDAY MIDNIGHT
Paul stood on the beach at midnight, gazing out at the spot from where she had emerged. She arose from the water and flowed toward him.
Cassie hesitated as she neared her lover. Her look was that of a chastised child, repentant and anxious for forgiveness, as though what had happened last night had somehow been her fault. Wearing an expression which he hoped would fully convey his guilt, Paul cupped her face in his hands and whispered "I'm sorry, Cassie."
She wrapped her arms around him and wept. It seemed she forgave easily. After a few moments, he looked into her face again and, clearly forming each word, he said
"Sandra only told me today that you're deaf." She nodded. "I didn't know. Wasn't there some way you could let me know?"
She only smiled in reply. Her hands caressed his shoulders. He took her hand and kissed it. He felt the rough edge on the back of her hand.
A scar. He stared at it for a moment, not believing. Then it all made sense.
He held the scar up to her eyes and said "Sandra. You are Sandra."
A look of utter terror arrested her face. Her eyes blazed with naked fear.
"No no it's not true !" she yelled. "I'm Cassie. Sandra could never face a man out in the open with no clothes on. I'm Cassie I tell you !"
Paul's grip on her wrist tightened. "When you cut yourself yesterday, it was on this hand. I saw it. You're Sandra !"
She broke Paul's grip, turned and ran blindly. It's not true, I am Cassie, she said over and over to herself. Sandra couldn't catch a man if she tried, so I HAD to do it for her !
But Sandra's voice drifted through Cassie's desperate jumble of denials. Stop running Cassie, said Sandra, He's found us out. But I can't let Daddy know where I am, screamed Cassie; he'll kill me; I don't want to die, Sandra.
It's alright, Cassie, replied Sandra's voice, Daddy can't get you now, you're safe, stop running, Cassie.
Cassie slowed down. OK, Sandra, I'll stop running. But promise me something.
Sure, Cassie, what ?
Promise me you'll tell Paul everything. He's so confused about you and me.
OK, said Sandra, I'll tell him. Goodbye Cassie.
Goodbye Sandra.
She collapsed onto the sand, her face streaming with tears. The next thing she felt was Paul's arm around her. "Yes" she sobbed. "I'm Sandra."
"But what about Cassie ?" asked Paul. "Did she ever exist?" Sandra replied between sobs. "A lot of ... what I told you ... about my family was true. All except how the family split up. C-Cassie didn't leave home. She ... died four years ago on the farm."
Paul wiped away some of her tears. "But why did you pretend to be her ?"
"I ... didn't realise I was doing it until just now, when you held up my hand and showed me that cut. I thought I'd been harbouring Cassie in my rooms. I talked with her every night. We even talked about you during the day."
Sandra's face became more thoughtful. "I'd wondered about the dreams I'd had lately. Warm, wonderful, erotic dreams of you and me ... making love on this beach."
Paul helped her up and they walked back to his hotel room. There she told him what really happened to Cassie.

##
Paul waited while Sandra showered and made herself "presentable". She then sat down next to him and began to unfold her past.
"Cass an I were very close but very different. I had few boyfriends, Cassie many. Daddy constantly scolded and often beat Cassie for what he called her "whoring around". He would admonish "be a good girl like Angel", his pet name for me.
"I so wanted to be more like Cassie, but dared not, fearing Father's punishments and disappointment in me. Despite the drawback of deafness, Cassie was so at ease with boys. She had a hearing aid for a time, but ... I'll get to that later. I was as pretty as her but lacked her confidence. Still do.
"I remember the hours I spent trying to get her to reveal her secrets. How do you get them all, I'd ask. Just relax, she'd tell me. Lots of the boys like you, she'd say. Just loosen up, and don't worry about what Dad thinks. I guess I was pretty standoffish.
Sandra hesitated. "I'll tell you what happened ... why I left home. It's hard to tell, but I think I've finally accepted it. You forced me to face it tonight, and I'll always be grateful for that.

## FOUR YEARS AGO
It was the date of Jim's fifteenth birthday. Cassie took Sandra aside and asked if she could keep Dad away from the house for a couple of hours that evening.
"I want to spring a surprise birthday present on Jim" said Cassie, "and it'll take a while to prepare."
Despite the beatings, Cassie was always planning some subterfuge or other. Sandra agreed, and convinced her Father to take her into town to do some shopping. Cassie asked for two hours, but they returned home about ten minutes early. Those ten minutes cost Cassie her life.
Sandra stood on the porch and yelled "We're home !" before opening the door. She strode into the lounge and propped the door open for her father, whose arms were loaded with packages. Sandra began to call out "Cass ..." but stopped cold before even completing the word. For it was at that moment that she looked at the settee, with Cassie and Jim on it.
They were both naked, which was not very unusual. What was odd was that Cassie was on top of Jim. Sandra's heart stopped and she stared open-mouthed. A surprise birthday present, she thought. Cassie you've really gone too far this time.
Despite her sister's tutelage, she'd never seen two other people making love before, and they were hard at it. They showed no sign of having heard the others come in.
Sandra's first thought was : "Oh God, Cassie's hearing aid battery must have run out." (In fact, it had fallen out when Jim chased his sister into the loungeroom).
A moment later Bill Manning dropped the packages and roared. The crash and roar made Jim jerk his head sharply. Then Jim froze in mid-motion.
Cassie took a few moments to adjust to this sudden change in her brother. Bill's face was purple with rage. Jim quickly disengaged, then jumped up and stood in Dad's way, and received a smart slap across the face for it. That sent Jim to the floor. Then Dad went for Cassie.
Often as Sandra had seen her father's rages, she'd never heard him scream before. But he was crying out at the top of his voice at Cass. He gave her a mixture of fire and brimstone and torrents of terrible names. Sandra had never heard him insult anyone so harshly. Cass tried to back away from him, but he'd caught her.
He put his giant hands around her throat and, still yelling every four letter word ever invented, throttled her.
He didn't mean to kill her. It just turned out that way. He let Cassie fall to the floor then turned to Jim.
"You get out of this house !" He roared at Jim. "I don't ever want to see you again !"
Jim packed his things and ran. Immediately. Then Bill Manning took a look at Cassie. Only then did he see that she was dead. Doc Linnett was later to tell Sandra that Cassie's neck had been broken.
When Bill realised that Cassie was dead, he began to rave.
"She was climbing a tree. She fell off a high branch. Her neck caught a bow on the way down. That's how she died. No-one would want to kill my poor little Cassandra. No- one. It was an accident."
And that's exactly what he told the Doc Linnett. Sandra didn't dare contradict. She couldn't, because she felt partly responsible. If she'd just kept Daddy in town fifteen minutes longer. If Cassie hadn't let Jim chase her into the loungeroom. If Cassie's hearing aid hadn't fallen out. If, if, if ...

## EPILOGUE
"And I left soon after" concluded Sandra. "I told myself it was because I was scared of Dad, but it wasn't true. Dad would never harm me and I could always handle him. I never really admitted it until now, but I ran away because I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. My own guilt made me leave. I felt more and more that it was all my fault. If only Cassie had told me what she was planning. If only I'd asked ..."
"So you ran away to Victoria" said Paul. "But Cassie came with you ..."
"It seems that way" said Sandra sadly.
"She died, but you took on her personality" suggested Paul. "Swallowed it whole and kept it in a part of your head away from everything else."
"And I didn't even know she was there."
"Do you see why you did ?"
"I think so. I once read an article that said some people do that to relieve their feelings of guilt. Y'know, to deny that the person really died. And if the person didn't die, then they couldn't feel guilt. Or something like that."
"But that doesn't explain why Cassie came out and took over your mind at night."
Sandra drew closer to him. "I think it does, Paul. You see, I've never been very good with boys. I'd relied only on Cassie's tales to get those thrills. It looks like I, subconsciously, sent Cassie out to do what I couldn't."
"I don't follow."
Sandra allowed a shallow laugh. "And I thought you were so smart. You figured out that the girl on the beach was me, but you can't understand the rest."
"Alright, let's hear it, Sherlock darling" chuckled Paul.
"When you first walked in to the roadhouse, I thought you were really cute. So I tried everything I could think of to hold your attention."
"You did a good job."
"But not good enough. You were going to leave the next day. Then you'd have gone forever."
"Don't be do hard on yourself. I never forget a lovely smile." "So Cassie must have heard me. And when I saw you go out for a walk to the beach ... yes, I was watching you ... Cassie stepped in to get you ... the only way she knew how."
"So on the night I showed up" continued Paul, beginning to see the light, "and kept shaking Cassie off ... then you were mad at me the next day ... Yes ! That makes sense now."
They sighed together, and stared at each other for a long moment. Then Sandra bowed her head.
"Well, what now ? You know I'm crazy. A nutcase. So what do you think of me ?"
"I'm still crazy about you, Sandra."
"You might find me a bit different to Cassie. Of the pair of us, she has all the skills for dealing with men."
"Perhaps she'll share them with you now."
"Perhaps she will."
He reached over to flick the lightswitch. "OK, let's find out."
THE END

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