Back at the Beach

By Graeme McGregor aka Grigor McGregor

Chapter 1

For each of her first nineteen years, Inez Macdonald spent New Year's Eve and all of January 'At the beach'.

Being at any beach in mid-summer, is where many New Zealand teens traditionally lose their virginity at the age of eighteen or perhaps a bit later.

But not Inez.

She'd turned nineteen in July and at the end of December, Christmas just behind them and the family relocated at The Beach (they rarely called it Sinclair Beach, named after the district's pioneer surveyor) she worried at the time that she remained a virgin.

Three times prior to December that year, Inez made abortive attempts to lay different guys. In despair she'd whispered her need to her father Keith, half-hoping he would find someone for her.

But he'd just grinned, ruffled her dark hair and said she should just wait, that it would happen naturally.

Miraculously, it did.

In mid-January that summer, a guy aged about forty came across her sunbathing in the sandhills. He began chatting to her and she invited him to sit beside her and share a cool drink.

Inez later went back to the bach (a small and very basic beach house), a huge smile on her face.

That was sixteen years ago.

Her parents sold the bach years ago when two of their four children had settled overseas, the third was married to a tourist company operator in the country's South Island.

The youngest and last to leave home in her late teens, Inez, would eventually become a successful novelist. She'd recently returned from the UK following the end of her childless marriage.

Her older and wealthy husband paid her huge money to hasten the divorce settlement. He'd found a glamorous and socially prominent older woman to spend the remainder of his life with on his third marriage, at peace knowing that his latest wife wouldn't be half-killing him with unrelenting sexual demands like his outgoing former darling.

Inez stepped out of the taxi.

The bach looked almost as she'd remembered it. It would be a great sanctuary for a dedicated writer with an understandable Greta Garbo quotation ('I vant to be alone') when creating romantic fiction.

A woman, too large for her bikini, came to the door in answer to Inez's knock. She didn't look beach-friendly.

"Yes?"

"Are you the owner of this property?"

"Co-owner but sorry lady, we don't rent."

"I might be a keen buyer."

The eyes of the fatigued-looking dyed blonde narrowed.

"Come in. My husband could be interested; I certainly am. We arrived yesterday to find the kids had left the place looking like shit and we talked about selling."

The sale and purchase agreement was signed on Wednesday that week, with settlement date in twenty-one days. Inez couldn't remember being so happy since the day she'd lost her virginity down at the beach and of course her wedding day had come close.

She shifted in with just two bags, having purchased the bach 'as is', the price including all furniture and furnishings and even cutlery but not bedding. Her parents had installed most of the furniture when the bach was built.

A van arrived to deliver bedding including mattresses for the double bed and two single beds. The delivery male and female took away the two sets of double bunks.

During the next three days, decorators repainted the interior while Inez spent those days and two more the following week staying at another nearby seafront bach with Peter Bishop and wife Wendy.

Peter had invited her to stay with them during interior painting and while her floors were being sanded and three coats of polyurethane applied.

Inez had grown up at the beach in summers with Peter who, alas, had taken Wendy's virginity instead of hers. Inez regarded him as a really nice guy.

When Peter had introduced his wife, Inez deduced that Wendy, obviously pregnant, was in need of a friend of similar age. She learned the couple had gone to university together and were accountants with their own business.

"Ohmigod, THE Inez Macdonald," Wendy gurgled when seeing the book award plaques on Inez's bedroom walls when they'd come to inspect Inez's newly renovated home.

"I have five of your novels."

"Ooh, in that case I must be good," Inez smiled softly and knew at that instant she was on the way to becoming one of Wendy's best friends. Well that didn't require many brain cells to deduce because Wendy was hugging her and saying Inez was such a modest darling.

"Open some wine Peter while I cuddle your lovely wife and her baby, err your baby too."

Peter glanced at Inez approvingly as he went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of chilled white wine for the hostess and himself and commercially bottled spring water for his wife.

At that moment, Inez felt she'd truly arrived home.

Every school holiday break plus many weekends, her family had occupied this now made-over bach. Strangely, she had little recollection and less affinity for their more substantial family home in the nearby town.

"I love the beach," she said.

Wendy said they did too and spent almost every weekend there.

"I'm so happy to have you here. I must tell my brother Lockie to visit us. You may find him unexpectedly of interest to you."

Oh yeah, Inez thought. She'd heard that optimistic claim a number of times. Females seemed almost desperate not to allow a previously married woman remain unmarried.

* * *

With darkness only just lifting next morning, Inez smiled, watching the old Maori gentleman Mr Pita Horo, looking even more stooped these days, walking to the reef at the southern end of beach, fishing rod in one hand, tackle bag in the other. She recalled watching Mr Horo for the first time she could remember, when she was perhaps five. He'd seemed old then.

After pouring coffee, Inez booted her laptop and began her new novel, set in the then British Colony of New Zealand in 1863.

<i>Sullen and yawning unladylike, Lady Elizabeth Rowan-Steele stood at the door of the raupo hut on the sandhill, sited just above the highest tide mark in living memory.

She watched intently the fine warrior-like body of the Maori walking towards the edge of the sea. Orange dawn crept into the bay and Elizabeth kept watching, waiting for the native man or Maori that her husband had told her to call Pita, to begin some kind of pagan ritual.

He stood transfixed, knee deep in water when suddenly he lunged and held up a frantically wriggling fish now working its way down the shaft of his spear.

Elizabeth smiled, forgetting the primitive conditions she'd been thrust into since coming off their reasonably comfortable quarters on the brig Lady Liverpool.

Yes, a nice portion of fresh fish for breakfast would go down a treat.</i>

* * *

Inez went to the nearby town by taxi on Wednesday. The Bishop's had invited her to dinner that evening and to stay the night, Peter anxious for her not to drive the winding road to the beach after having consumed liquor. Wendy insisted she accept and so it was settled.

Inez banked two royalties' cheques that had come in the mail and then visited two pre-owned vehicle yards to kick tyres while listening salespeople give their views on the best car to be kept parked in the open at the beach.

The opinions ranged from the ridiculous -- a Toyota soft-top sports car -- to one that send her thinking, a two-year-old high mileage and dented in places Land Rover Defender, priced to sell.

Her style was to drive unspectacularly which meant powerful performance wasn't a top consideration but she wanted a vehicle built to withstand rugged conditions. She purchased the Defender after checking the claim that it was indeed priced to sell.

A light lunch followed, seated alone and ignored, and then Inez found a vacant small table in the town's nearby public library and spent the afternoon researching early history of the district to incorporate some facts in her novel.

She was delighted, for the purpose of building authenticity amid her fictitious setting, to find a reference that the name Pita (Peter) was in use by Maori locally in the mid-1850s, the name Peter presumably introduced by early missionaries from England.

Just before 5:00 when she knew Wendy would be finishing work, Inez called her and said she'd give her a ride home in her new vehicle.

"This is not an economic vehicle to own but it's in great condition overall, and will be when you get the dents knocked out and the exterior repainted," Wendy (an accountant) said, having no idea of Inez' financial position after buying the bach or that her new friend had just banked money from her London publisher that had converted to 18,763 New Zealand dollars.

Wendy ordered a glass of wine and a light soft-drink.

"Thank god Peter will have someone to drink with; he hates drinking by himself and I won't touch it again until three months after baby is born. He even suggested, half-jokingly, that I seek an induced early delivery."

"Christ aren't men cold-hearted."

Wendy looked astonished.

"You know, that was my exact thought when he said that, my very words."

"Did you kick him?"

"No but I thought of it."

"This, is nice wine but your fruit juice looks more water than squeezed fruit."

"It is. I desire to be a good mother bringing a baby into this life."

Inez had a special request to ask her new friend.

"Wendy, can you fit me in as a client?"

Her companion looked pleased.

"Of course, and I could do your work at the beach if you sort out everything for me."

"Um, it becomes rather complex because I wish to avoid double taxation where possible as my investment income comes from all over the place."

Appearing surprised, the accountant asked, "Roughly what annual income are we talking about?"

"Well with my divorce settlement already received and money from various investments, I expect to receive more than a million dollars by the end of this financial year including rather substantial income from my writing."

"Ohmigod, that's a packet. I graduated in law as well as business administration/finance and am licensed to practice as a solicitor and can attend to your legal work, you wish. Who did you use for legal work when you purchased the bach?"

"Old Mr Shields."

"Omigod, believe me darling, real estate conveyancing probably is the only thing he is reasonably competent at these days. I must peruse your ground lease because some around you are due for renewal."

"No, it's fine, eight years to run. I made sure I looked at that but I'll be handing over all documents when I sign on with you. Let's toast to baby."

"Aw, what a sweet toast. You're lovely Inez."

* * *

Inez was sunbathing in the sandhills mid-morning, determined to return inside before the fierce heat of the midsummer day, when a guy walked fairly close to her.

"Hi, looking to spy on couples doing it?" she joked, noticing his uniform,

He looked slightly guilty and said "Nah."

Switching from staring at her well-filled bikini top. he took a closer look at her face and said, "Ah, Inez, Inez Walsh? I heard you were back at the beach."

"Aye but I married and it's Inez Macdonald now, spelt with a small 'd'. Are you Jimmy Applefield all grown up?"

He grinned. "Right on the button babe. I'm a national park ranger these days and I can see where you've grown."

Inez took the chance.

"They're in desperate need of attention Jimmy. My outgoing husband and I had farewell sex three months ago when we reconnected after the divorce for a nostalgic last fling and it has been a sexual drought for me since then. Remember, I allowed you to spray my tits on your 19^th birthday."

"Hell yes, and you were almost my first sexual conquest although we didn't quite completely nail it because mum caught us at it."

"Come to lunch; I think I have condoms."

"Err, I married Josephine Lucas."

"Well, she'll still be sharing it around, won't she?"

Jimmy's embarrassment showed.

"Very rarely these days I believe. We have two kids and she's involved in women-interest groups."

Until now Inez hadn't been aware that having children and being involved in women-interest groups put the damper on random sex.

"Well please yourself Jimmy. Lunch is at 12:30. I've..."

"I heard you've recently purchased your folks' bach. I'm chuffed to have reconnected with you."

"For what purpose?" she asked, eyes narrowing and her hazel eyes glancing at his groin,

"Gee Inez, back off," Jimmy said flushing. "I'm just here to say hello."

"Well the offer is for lunch or lunch plus sex. The decision is yours. Don't bother to turn up if you feel you can't help out an old friend."

"I-I better go. I'm on foot patrol. You must come to dinner very soon. Josephine was always a great admirer of you saying you were bound to succeed. Have you?"

"I've done okay. Off you go foot patrolling and hoping to sneak up on couples doing it. Do you find many gay couples at it?"

"Rarely guys but women, yeah."

Turning bright red at being dropped into making a confession, Jimmy said, "It's part of our duties, female rangers as well. Kids, upright and uptight older folk and little old women and grumpy, complaining men might come across fornicating couples and be disgusted."

"Couldn't you erect signs saying 'Fornicators Only in the Sandhills' and thus have one duty less to police?"

"That's a great idea," Jimmy said thoughtfully, but frowned. "Oh gosh, lightening our workload could lead to loss of jobs and our national policy is to reduce signage."

Laughing, Inez waved Jimmy off, pleased she had spoken to him.

She must remember to incorporate his 19^th birthday 'coitus interruptus' into one of her next novels. Would he turn up for lunch? Inez didn't know, recalling teachers and his mother used to label him as unreliable.

Right on 12:30, Jimmy arrived in his little pick-up and thoughtlessly parked in her driveway, where signage on the vehicle of potential adulterer James Applefield would confirm or at least raise suspicion to the wider community that Jimmy and that woman living alone were up to no good.

Inez, thinking only of herself, was merciless.

"I found them," she greeted, holding up a six-pack of condoms.

Jimmy with his narrow and now very red face looked at the door through which he'd just entered like a cornered rat.

Inez cooed, "I do believe I recall how to roll them on."

"C-could we have lunch and t-then discuss that?"

"Certainly Jimmy; we wouldn't want you to miss enjoying having lunch and afters," Inez said solicitously, to concentrate on relaxing him.

She did that by launching into talking about the old days, being perhaps the only thing, they had in common, and she soon had him laughing and contributing. He complimented her on the infused tastes of the chicken salad, probably only aware of the colouring of tomatoes and yellow and red capsicums.

But he was off, recounting a couple of funny episodes they'd shared in their youth and as they finished Inez judged him to be ripe for the plucking so didn't offer coffee. Instead she said, "Over to the sofa Jimmy and let's finish what your mother interrupted."

He followed like a lamb and said almost with pride, "Jo says I'm a little too big for her."

"Well flip it out and let me be the judge."

"Should I lock the door?"

"Yes, if you're nervous Jimmy."

"It's not that I'm nervous," he said bravely. "But use of discretion in this situation is probably unwritten Parks Board policy."

When he returned from locking the door, Inez was able to assure him it was only a little larger than average. "I've had them so big I had difficulty breathing."

Jimmy's eyes appeared to protrude alarmingly.

"Then I can feed in the lot?"

"Yes, of course sweetheart. Are you sure Jo is not turning gay?"

Jimmy lost his colour and for a moment Inez thought she'd blown it, so dropped to her knees and warmed him up. She then let her dress fall and all he had to do was to undo her bra.

As expected, he fumbled but she waited patiently and then felt her own arousal really trigger when he crushed both breasts into his hands and cried, "Oh god, I've wanted my mouth around these bunnies from the moment I saw you on the beach."

"Go boy, go get 'em. I take a while to warm up."

For most of that afternoon the Parks Board had one ranger removed from active duty, performing illicit acts of indescribable lust. Inez managed to get him off four times and almost had to help the poor guy stagger to his vehicle.

"This had been the most amazing afternoon of my life," Jimmy said devoutly. "Can we do this some more darling Inez?"

"What now in the cab of your truck?"

"God no," Jimmy said, clutching his aching testicles, "but soon."

"Of course, darling, until I find a potential partner. Could you kindly leave your vehicle in the public parking area whenever you visit me?"

"Yeah of course. Do you really think Jo really is turning gay?"

"I wouldn't think so. I suggest you buy some quality lube and coat your dick liberally before inserting. That could be the solution but remember most of the sensation women feel from humping originates from just inside the vagina."

"Get away with you!"

"I'm serious Jimmy. Look should I buy the lube for you?"

"Would you? I can't stomach going to the check-out carrying stuff like that."

"I'll buy it as a wee present for you darling. You gave me a great gift this afternoon."

Jimmy blew her a kiss and drove off and Inez thought, laughing almost helplessly, probably to falsify a report about his diligence on patrol that afternoon, leaving no couples unturned.

In the bath, she thought it had been a long time since a guy had made her sweat like a pig. She'd loved it and it was a reminder there was no substitute for the real thing, not when properly applied. Jimmy was great at fucking and she really hoped the lube would make Jo more accommodating as well as allowing Jo to enjoy her husband's natural talent with greater pleasure.

<b>Chapter 2</b>

Josephine had finished bathing the kids and they were playing on the floor when Jimmy arrived home.

"Hi Jo," he said.

"God you looked to have been dragged through the mill."

Jimmy broke into a sweat but was up to the challenge.

"Yeah, climbed up and down remote places much of the day, looking for litter and illegal fireplaces. I found a couple of lesbians at it."

"Oh, poor darling, how revolting for you. Please spare me the details."

"But don't you want to know how they do it?"

"No, you'll have me vomiting."

Jimmy appeared very relieved and was told to have a bath to relax his tired muscles from scaling those steep slopes.

"I'll bring you a beer and will flop out my breasts for you to fondle because I guess you won't feel like putting me through the hoops tonight."

"Thanks doll, that sounds lovely. Guess who's back at the beach?"

"The woman who was Inez Walsh when we knew her?"

Almost terrified, Jimmy said yeah, he'd bumped in to her and they'd chatted for a few minutes, catching up. Wondering if one of Jo's friends had told her she'd seen him going into Inez's home he croaked, "How did you know she was back at the beach?"

"I read a small story in today's 'New Zealand Herald' newspaper.

"She refused to be interviewed but they published a story anyway after confirming facts about her and having the photograph of her sent by her publishers."

"Darling, our Inez Walsh is one of my favourite authors; I have seven of her romance paperbacks. She must have had a face job since the time I knew her. In the newspaper photograph she looks really beautiful. I had seen her photo on the back of her books but never made the connection that Inez Macdonald was formerly Inez Walsh. There's no mention she was born and raised in New Zealand."