CHAPTER 1
September 1985
Kara sighed as she searched through her bulging handbag for the emergency supply of Tylenol tablets. Extra strength, she noted thankfully upon locating them, which hopefully will provide faster relief. Taking a couple of sips of almost cold coffee she grimaced after swallowing the two pills. She disliked taking medication of any kind, but sitting in the waiting area at Gate 6 of the International Terminal at Heathrow Airport, between flights, was not Kara's idea of the most efficient way to spend one's time. It provided an expanse of time to dwell upon matters which had given her the headache in the first place.
Suddenly it felt cool. After the speedy helter-skelter from northern England, starting with the early flight from the local airport to Heathrow airport outside London, it had been a carefully structured journey. There had been little time for reminiscing. Until now! With one flight a day to Los Angeles there was a ninety minutes stop-over at the Heathrow airport waiting for this connection, which hung like a cloud over her head. Kara shrugged into her coat, accidentally knocking the arm of the young boy sitting in the seat beside her.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Are you all right?"
His well-scrubbed face turned to look at Kara. He smiled shyly and nodded his head. She is a very beautiful lady with shining blonde hair tied back with a ribbon and large green eyes that even to his youthful awareness looked as if she had been crying. He had been watching her gazing into space with a sad expression on her face. When she smiled at him, his face lit up. The smile transformed her somber expression, releasing the sparkle in her eyes and showing even white teeth behind sensuously curved lips. Kara's engaging smile was such an intrinsic part of her personality that she hardly noticed the impact on others.
"My name is Kara, what's yours?"
"Kenneth," he responded, "and this is my mum and sister."
Kara looked over and smiled at a nice looking woman about her own age sitting at the other side of Kenneth, with a little girl asleep on the seat beside her.
"Hello. I've just met your son and if I'd realized how delightful it is to meet someone of the opposite sex in an airport, I'd have started much earlier."
She spoke with a twinkle in her eyes. He was a cute little fellow, with big curious eyes. Talking out aloud had broken her dismal thought pattern and that was a relief.
The mother smiled tiredly.
"I'm just getting over the flu, so please forgive my lack of social graces. `Fraid I'm just not very good company right now and the trip to Los Angeles is looming ahead."
"Can I help in any way?" Kara offered.
"No, thanks, my husband should be here very soon. He went to the Duty Free Shop."
Her less than enthusiastic response was offset by a quick, though weary, smile.
Kara pulled her coat collar up around her neck and settled back on the plastic chair, smiling at Kenneth once more.
Flying was not her panacea of choice. Jet setters could have the firmament to themselves she conceded—she would just be thankful to get back into her normal daily routine. Kara loved her work and that had influenced her greatly in postponing one of the most difficult decisions she had to make in her life. This had taken place just a couple of days before her stay in England was to end, and she was still trying to cope with the extent of it.
In California she was accustomed to running a very large operation that ran smoothly and efficiently, thanks to the groundwork meticulously established several years earlier. She had a sixth sense in its regard, detecting irregularities almost by intuition and Kara had come to rely upon her own sharp judgment in every way. She had come a long way from the days when she was a shy, introverted schoolgirl and, because she was annoyed that the current emotional turmoil could not be resolved, the dratted headache had crept up on her.
Struggling to overcome the gloomy state of mind that enveloped her, Kara pulled a Monthly Planner out of her carry-on bag and flipped through toward September. No time like the present to start getting her life back on track, she concedes. Almost like an omen the pages open at the entries for August. Crammed into the small spaces were buzz words used to condense blocks of time into chapter and verse; "Wisherly beach/Jon," "Coppice Farm/Jon." The painful memories brought back intense feelings and reminded Kara that her headache was gathering impetus. Did she do the right thing? Her mind drifted.
* * *
Normally, Kara loved beachcombing. She had done it most of her life, living thirty-five miles from the ocean where her parents had a houseboat. They used it quite frequently. Most of the time it was anchored and the deck and cabin utilized as a beach retreat, providing cooking facilities and sleeping accommodation. The majority of their outings took place on foot or in the small motorboat that was harnessed to one of the houseboat's corner-posts. It was a very casual and uncomplicated lifestyle they led at weekends and holidays. It was the perfect antidote for the stress encountered by her father during his busy workdays as president of his prestigious and vast engineering conglomerates.
On the private strip of beach property, which followed the outline of a small isolated aquamarine bay, "a baker's dozen" houseboats were berthed secluded and completely hidden from view by all but passing planes and birds. The huge sand dunes and rocky cliffs gave Cormorant Bay total privacy. The houseboats, peaceful in their solitude, had been there for years. Before Kara was born, her father and a group of friends decided to seek their own kind of isolation and by a stroke of immense good luck found and purchased the beach property. It was being sold at the death of a widow who had come into the property through her deceased husband. As a farmer's wife living a hundred miles inland she was not interested in an isolated piece of unworkable coastline and had stipulated in her Last Will and Testament that the land was to be sold for whatever price it could raise. The proceeds were to be given to her favorite charity. Kara's father and friends were aware that a road would need to be forged over the primitive path already made by animal trails, to allow vehicle access from the main road. There also would be the cost of constructing access to the beach level. Most of the other bidders were reluctant to invest more money into what would be expensive, but necessary, improvements. It was, after all, just a piece of unproductive land favored with little more than a scenic view and nesting cormorants. Because its inaccessibility proved to be the major purchasing deterrent to the bidders, Kara's father and friends raised their bidding price slightly. This strategy paid off—they acquired the land.
This was the first step. For a few years camping in tents was the only affordable way for the "Ne'er-do-wells" as they called themselves, to utilize their hideaway, paying off their debt in the process. The group, made up of energetic, eager young couples, adventurous and optimistic, was temporarily impeded by the primary financial demands of creating a good, secure lifestyle for themselves and their growing families. However they were sure of their abilities and goals. They were a close-knit clique, with a long association and proven loyalties. As their fortunes improved, houseboats were added to this beach community. Some more elaborate than others, but each characteristic of its owner and each formally named and "christened."
Kara's family's houseboat called "The End of the Rainbow" was chosen by Kara's artist mother, Silvia Olavssen, but others had more playful names like "C. Gull's Landing" and "Just Juxtaposing."
"Much Ado about Nothing" belonged to the Williams' family. Jonathan Williams was born twenty months before Kara and all her life she had tried to catch up to him. Growing up so closely together they graduated from gathering unusual shells on the beach to making and destroying each other's sandcastles. Exploring tide pools and fishing from the shore were natural progressions. In their early teens they were allowed to take one of the small motor boats out of the bay and fish further afield. When they entered high school and their interests differed, both Kara and Jon invited friends to their respective houseboats and they often merged for social activities, but as time passed they saw less of each other; it was not because they had lost common ground, but because they had different pursuits and ambitions. Sometimes one would invite the other to participate in some function or other but, after high school graduation, Kara attended the University of Durham and Jon and she met only occasionally at the beach.
Kara's parents kept her apprised of what Jon was doing and Kara was always interested in the latest news they had to relay. She was very proud when he was conscripted as Center Forward of the regional professional soccer team and even more delighted when he was recruited by the renowned Manchester United national soccer team headquartered in the midlands. For a few years Jon's star rose. His team went from one victory to another, with Jon the object of the fans' affection and adulation. He could do no wrong.
In an unexpected incident Jon's right foot was vigorously kicked by an opposing player coming up fast behind him during an exhausting and highly competitive game. That debilitating injury ended the soccer career of one of the highest paid and idolized players in the sport. Not immediately, there was hope of recovery during the various surgeries and therapy sessions. After a year, tired and somewhat bitter, with a ruptured Achilles tendon damaged beyond repair, Jon resigned from the soccer league and retired from the world.
For a while Kara saw much more of Jon. He practically lived at the beach, cutting himself off from everyone but his immediate family and the "Ne'er-do-wells." Kara's heart went out to her friend. She was in her final year at university and whenever she was home at school recesses she gravitated to the beach life. She coaxed and encouraged Jon to swim and fish with her and gradually they started walking slowly along the beach again, confiding in each other as they had done all their lives.
Jon would always walk with a limp. Kara would turn her head away when her eyes filled with tears as she saw how bravely Jon struggled to conquer the constant nagging pain that medications only partly desensitized. He would not give in and the distress that flashed into his eyes should he accidentally place his foot awkwardly—or worse, stumble—was almost like a physical blow to Kara. She knew him too well to offer sympathy and once, when he fell face down lengthwise in the sand and stayed there unmoving, Kara forced herself not to rush to his side to comfort him. Instead she said in a pseudo-whining tone, "Come on, Jon, this isn't the time to rest. We have to get back for lunch." She had not realized that she had been holding her breath until Jon turned his head to look at her and for a moment they were youngsters again. With a strained grin on his face he reminded Kara that even though he could not run quite as fast as he used to, he still had a fast right hand for swatting. This was the way they covered their genuine feelings of affection for each other; it was a game they played. The walks started lengthening, though still at a slow pace. They usually kept to the edge of the waterline where the outgoing tide left compacted sand, which made walking a little easier for Jon. He seldom complained and sometimes, involved in absorbing conversations, the two would forget about time. As Jon's limp became noticeably pronounced Kara was guiltily reminded of his disability.
A few times she had suggested that he rest while she went and brought back one of the small motorboats, so that he would not have to strain his foot further. Jon scoffed at this, saying a short rest was all that was needed. He insisted it was no hardship getting back to "The Colony," as they had started calling it. He could manage.
It was with some reluctance that Kara returned to college after spending time with Jon. She took some credit for helping him recuperate and was happy when he said he had decided to go into business for himself. As he was still in the preliminary stages of figuring it out, he would let her know all about it at Christmas when she returned.
* * *
Kara shook her head and looked around the airport lounge. The little boy was looking at her and she wondered if she had been thinking and speaking her thoughts out aloud. He held up a Dr. Seuss book titled "The Cat in the Hat."
"Will you read to me?" Kenneth entreated. "Please."
His mother was leaning back with her eyes closed and a labored expression on her face. Kara looked at her watch, just over an hour before takeoff. How the time flew when one was having fun.
"Why not Kenneth?"
She held out her hand for the book with a cat wearing a red and white top hat on the cover.
"Come and sit on the other side of me and we won't disturb your mommy and sister."
Kara started reading.
Kenneth giggled in the appropriate places and Kara knew he could have recited it himself. His lips mouthed the words. A few pages before the end Kara was aware of someone standing in front of her. She looked up. A man, with a look of amusement on his face, was watching her.
"Hello, Dad! Kara, this is my dad."
A man in the uniform of a naval officer offered his hand.
"I didn't want to interrupt. In fact if I could have found my camera I would have taken a picture. I'm Ken's father, Bruce Tanner. Carry on."
Kara smiled. How could she ignore such a command? She finished the book and handed it back to Kenneth. He smiled and jumped off the chair.
"Thanks a lot, Kara."
He ran along the aisle, leapfrogging onto his father's lap.
Kara closed her eyes.
It was difficult pushing back memories crowding in on her, insistently reminding her of a past she wanted to forget and a future she was not ready to think about.
* * *
She remembered how excited she had been at the Christmas recess when she had rushed home from university to inform her parents and Jon that she had found the most extraordinary man, who thought she was very special too. Somehow she thought she needed Jon's approval. Roger Algernon Smithers, who would be graduating in June with Kara, had three more years to go before being able to add Juris Prudence behind his name. It was not Roger's looks that had drawn Kara to him—it was the earnestness and eloquence of his viewpoint when debates took place in the general Commons Room of the university. She admired the tenacity of his refusal to back-down under duress and she attributed this to the aura of sophistication he projected. Roger was five years older than Kara and, in growing closer, their discussions turned to more personal observations and topics. This led to an exclusive relationship between them and Kara was romantically captivated. She found it fascinating watching Roger in the simple process of filling and smoking a pipe. It reminded her of the times she had watched her father doing the same thing. Roger's curly brown hair was in contrast to the thinly defined moustache, which Kara found endearing. Roger's slender nose adroitly kept in place tortoiseshell spectacles that gave him a profoundly scholarly appearance. The casually elegant way in which Roger carried his jacket across one of his shoulders pointed to his sense of style. His choice of impeccable clothing set him apart from the rest of the students. Kara was in love.
Roger had willingly agreed to split-up his vacation and spend part of it at Kara's family's beach property to celebrate the advent of the New Year. He insisted that Kara's family formally invite him and they had no problem with this. Their concern was in the suddenness of the news thrust upon them. Kara usually displayed a level headedness beyond her years, and this breach of protocol bothered them.
