Echoes of the Past: Fermosa Bay, #1

By Iris Blobel

When Connor Walsh, a business lawyer in London, receives news that his estranged father is terminally ill, he returns to Fermosa Bay, a little coastal town in Australia. With the memories of his childhood years tucked away in the back of his mind, he finds his father and kindergarten friends rallying around to remind him of the past. But he's unprepared for the growing attraction he feels for Emily, and it doesn't take long for Connor to feel regret that his life could have been so much different.

Emily Bradshaw has waited for over twenty years to see Connor again. And although he can't remember her, let alone their first kiss, her childhood crush is still in full swing. Eager to pick up where they left off as children, she's determined to enjoy the short time he is in Fermosa Bay, accepting her heart will break when he returns to his life in London.

Will the echoes of the past lure him into staying in Fermosa Bay?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Iris Blobel
• Release date: Jun 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227679642

Iris Blobel

Iris Blobel writes warm, sexy, and sometimes witty Australian Contemporary Romance books for readers who, like herself, still strongly believe in love and Happily Ever Afters. And she knows HEAs. Her couples are hungry for life, done with the past, passionate about family, and emotionally hopeful for a future. The stories are mainly set in Australia but also in New Zealand and even the US, depending on where her travels take her. She loves nothing more than for her readers to join her on her journeys. For more information, join her on FB https://bit.ly/3CGtIk8

Book preview

Echoes of the Past

by

Iris Blobel

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

♥ Thank You ♥

ECHOES OF THE PAST

Copyright © 2017 IRIS BLOBEL

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in a review and certain non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

No Generative AI Training Use.

For avoidance of doubt, Author reserves all rights, and there are no rights to reproduce and/or otherwise use the Work in any manner for purposes of training artificial intelligence technologies to generate text, including without limitation, technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as the Work, unless the Author’s specific and express permission to do so is given in writing. Nor does anyone have the right to sublicense others to reproduce and/or otherwise use the Work in any manner for purposes of training artificial intelligence technologies to generate text without Author’s specific and express permission.

Where to find Iris

Website:       http://irisblobel.com/

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bQ68rL

Tiktok:          https://www.tiktok.com/@iris_blobel

Twitter:        https://twitter.com/_iris_b

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/Iris_Blobel

Blurb

When Connor Walsh, a business lawyer in London, receives news that his estranged father is terminally ill, he returns to Fermosa Bay, a little coastal town in Australia. With the memories of his childhood years tucked away in the back of his mind, he finds his father and kindergarten friends rallying around to remind him of the past. But he’s unprepared for the growing attraction he feels for Emily, and it doesn’t take long for Connor to feel regret that his life could have been so much different.

Emily Bradshaw has waited for over twenty years to see Connor again. And although he can’t remember her, let alone their first kiss, her childhood crush is still in full swing. Eager to pick up where they left off as children, she’s determined to enjoy the short time he is in Fermosa Bay, accepting her heart will break when he returns to his life in London.

Will the echoes of the past lure him into staying in Fermosa Bay?

1

Connor Walsh leaned against the window frame with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the waves crashing against the rocks. In front of him, as wide as the horizon, was the ocean. With the clouds drifting in from the sea, the sky had turned grey and dark, and he knew there’d be even more rain coming later in the day.

He would’ve enjoyed the scene if it hadn’t reminded him of the changes in his life. He’d been back in Fermosa Bay for two days already, but the memories of the first seven years of his life which he’d spent in this small Australian coastal town were tucked away in the back of his mind. Inaccessible as it seemed. Nowadays, his life was in London and had been for the last twenty-three years. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he looked towards the harbour in the distance, and the small town in the alcove with the hilly forest in the background, where he’d spent some of his childhood years. It was truly one picturesque little place.

A noise from the other end of the house hauled him back from his thoughts, and he stepped away from the window. Since he’d decided to accept Jack’s invitation to come to Australia a few weeks earlier, he’d had visions of what he’d find here. His mother hadn’t told him much about the time she’d lived here, except about Jack owning a pub. Connor had been furious for her lack of memory, but in the end, he’d admitted to himself that it had possibly not been a time she’d like to remember.

Hence, he was surprised to find out that Jack lived in this large house just outside Fermosa Bay, on the top of the cliffs, with a view over the ocean. The house had five rooms and a small study at the back. The lounge room, with a high vaulted ceiling, had wood fire heating and a big window front. Connor had loved the house the instant he’d stepped into it.

He entered the hall, where he found his father. Good morning, Jack.

The old man sighed sadly. You still can’t bring it over your heart to call me Dad?

Connor’s gaze wandered from his father to all the many framed photos along the wall. Jack was in many of them, but most were of people he didn’t know, except the biggest one, which showed Connor as a child in Jack’s arms. A wave of sadness shook him, but he wasn’t sure what it exactly was. It could’ve been regret that he hadn’t known about his father earlier, or simple sympathy for the man who thought so much of him without knowing anything about him.

And, yet, it wasn’t in him to call him Dad. Or to even think of him as his dad.

After a moment’s silence, he turned to his father and shook his head. Sorry.

Jack coughed, and Connor quickly rushed to his side, holding him upright.

Another bad day? Connor asked.

Son, there will be no more good days. One day is like the other, until it will be the last.

The words struck Connor deep enough to feel some emotions for his father. He knew time was running out, but hearing it made it sound final.

There’s a front coming, but I think you’d be able to sit outside for a little while. At least until the nurse comes.

Jack simply nodded.

Connor helped his father out onto the deck, where the old man sat down on his swing seat.

Thanks, son.

Without a reply, Connor stepped away and watched the sea again.

I couldn’t keep you away from the water when you were a child, Jack said after a long moment.

The words surprised him. What do you mean?

When Jack didn’t answer, he turned to look at his father who stared into the distance, a withdrawn expression on his face.

You were constantly in the water. Whatever opportunity you had, you grabbed your little board and spent most of the day there.

Now intrigued by the small information about his childhood, Connor asked, What happened?

His father shrugged. You left with your mother.

Not all that happy with the reply, Connor sat down on the chair next to Jack while letting out a long breath. Something must’ve happened. I never go near water, let alone go in it.

Still gazing into the distance, Jack said, I still have the blue board. Ethan’s little son sometimes uses it nowadays.

Unsure where the conversation was heading, Connor went along. Who’s Ethan? he asked.

The reaction from his father wasn’t what he expected, though. With his shoulders sagged, Jack closed his eyes. He looked so old and frail. From what Connor saw in all the photos around the house, cancer had taken a lot of life out of his father, leaving behind a haggard body with no energy left. Initially, he’d been taken aback by their similarities in looks, with their dark brown eyes and dark blond hair, including the stubborn curl above the ears, but after all, Jack was his father.

Ethan was your best friend when you lived here.

Pain shot through Connor as he was again confronted with a piece of information about his past that he knew nothing about. What had happened all those years ago, that his memory blocked these recollections of his childhood?

How is your mother? Jack wanted to know suddenly.

Connor clenched his jaw, trying hard to hold back to frustration and hoping it was a sign of the illness that his father wasn’t able to hold on to one topic anymore. He studied the old man as he listened to his heavy breathing. Jack was thin and pale, with dark circles under his eyes.

She’s doing well, he replied after a long moment.

Married?

Yes.

A smile spread across Jack’s face. She was beautiful when she lived here. So beautiful.

Leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, Connor asked calmly, Why did you ask her to leave?

Finally, their eyes locked, and his father’s confusion took Connor aback.

Son, what are you talking about?

Their conversation was interrupted, though, by the ringing of the doorbell. Connor cursed inwardly, knowing he had to wait for his father’s response that little bit longer. So many questions about his past, a past he knew nothing about. He stepped back into the house and walked to the front door, making a mental note to ask his mother about Ethan. And how the hell had he liked surfing as a kid when he wouldn’t go near the water now?

Still in thought, he opened the door and was taken off-guard for a moment by what he saw. In front of him stood a beautiful woman with a smile that had an effect on him right to his toes and back up his legs, pooling heat in his groin.

She held her hand out. Hi, Connor. You don’t look anything like you did twenty years ago.

He blinked away his confusion, slowly taking her hand. Thanks. And you are?

I’m offended, she replied with a soft laugh. I’m Emily Bradshaw. With an exaggerated sigh, she added, The man who gave me my first kiss can’t remember me.

As she shook her head, her curly red hair bounced around her face. Her green eyes were gleaming with good humour.

Sorry, Emily. I’m— He had no idea what he was. Speechless. Frustrated. Memory gone. Probably all of the above. I’m still jetlagged. Apologies. Come on in.

Emily walked past him, down the hall, and towards the stairs.

Look, Emily. In regard to the…ehrm, the jetlag, want to give me a hint what you’re doing here?

She spun around, her mouth curving into a smile again. I’m your dad’s nurse.

Giving a slow nod, he said, Right. That makes sense. He held her gaze, absolutely mesmerised by her. It appeared he’d had good taste already as a child. He definitely had to find out about that kiss.

Right, he said again. Jack’s outside on the deck.

She looked up at him in surprise. The good-humoured face had lost its smile. Jack? she asked.

Connor raised his brows. My dad?

She gave a slow nod. Yes, he is, she replied slowly. Anyway, the deck’s perfect. He needs a bit of Vitamin D. It’ll do him good.

Watching her behind, he followed her outside. The storm was closing in, and Emily shaded her eyes with her hand as she looked into the distance across the ocean.

Emily, Jack greeted her, and Connor could’ve sworn he caught a slight smile on his father’s face.

She turned to him. How are you, Jack?

The old man took her hand. I have Connor here.

Connor was struck by the intensity of his father’s words. I have Connor here. It was the way they were spoken, and the emotions behind them that confused him. Was there a bit of belonging or appreciation? Or did Connor read something into it when there wasn’t anything?

He watched Emily taking off the blanket. She waited patiently as Jack had another bout of coughing fits.

Jack, did you take your medication this morning? she asked.

He waved her off with his hand. Nah, I’m sick of them. They’re making me drowsy and nauseous.

They help—

They don’t help, Jack interrupted. They delay the obvious. I wanna have a clear mind when I discuss matters with Connor.

You shouldn’t skip on the medication, she persisted. They help—

She’s not only as pretty as her mother, but just as stubborn, Jack said with a grin.

Connor noticed his father’s long sigh. It seemed even talking was an effort for him nowadays. There were so many questions about the illness, but also the medication he was obviously refusing.

He’s even taken on the pommy accent. My own son has a pommy accent, Jack told Emily as she checked his temperature.

She turned to look at Connor and gave him a smile. I suppose it’s been a while since you moved to England.

He was seven.

Emily placed her hand on her chest and with exaggeration replied, Oh, I remember. I was heartbroken for days.

Connor cocked a brow. Days?

Her laugh was genuine and beautiful. Well, you know, Niall showed me his secret spot at the beach.

Niall?

I can’t believe you don’t remember Niall.

He can’t even bloody remember Ethan, Jack growled.

Emily stared at Connor. You’re kiddin’, right?

Suddenly the humorous expression on her face changed, but he couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. It bugged him that he wasn’t able to remember anything from his childhood here in Australia, but it annoyed him even more to see the disbelief in these two. The next few weeks were going to be a steep learning curve about his past.

She stared at him for a long moment. Although he wasn’t coy when it came to women, it made him uncomfortable, and he turned to look out across the ocean again. There was a big container ship on the horizon, moving along at snail’s pace. It was barely visible in the distance, despite being near the coast. Closing his eyes, he compared himself to a ship in the ocean, so close to everyone, yet out of everyone’s reach as he once again wondered what had happened. Or why he was here, at the other end of the world, twenty-four flight hours away, about nine time zones ahead of his family back in England.

His father’s and Emily’s voices were distant as Connor tried his hardest to remember anything about this place. Remember somebody called Ethan or Niall.

But he came up with nothing. Zilch.

Not even the mention of a kiss triggered any memories.

He’d been barely over seven years old when he and his mother had left Australia and made their new home in London. There were vague memories in the back of his mind about the first days in school in London. He’d been the newcomer and learnt quickly to adapt and make new friends. He and his mother had lived with his grandparents until she had found a job and had been able to afford a small apartment.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Connor was desperate for the slightest bit of memory.

Anything.

But he came up empty.

Your dad appreciates that you’ve come here.

Connor shot around and met Emily’s gaze. For a brief moment, he lost himself in her eyes, inhaling the subtle scent of her perfume. He had no idea how to reply to her comment, so he turned back to watch the virga above the sea.

How long will you stay?

Letting out a sigh, he contemplated the question.

When he’d received Jack’s phone call, telling him he was his father, Connor had thrown words at him he’d immediately regretted before hanging up without listening to anything Jack had to say. Thank God, Jack had been persistent and called again the next day. Consumed with curiosity, he listened for half an hour, making notes. Jack had provided him with all the details, date of birth, name, and even provided