by Penny Kane
Brendan was as good as his word. He called Andrew Connor, the real estate agent, and pressed him to write a letter to the neighbour with the noisy dog. Apparently, the neighbour wasn’t impressed and called the agent to complain. However, when Polly went for a second viewing, the dog was silent. She smiled to herself and thought that perhaps if she kept the neighbours sweet, if there was ever another problem with the racket the dog made then they’d be amenable to shutting him up again.
Everything seemed to be slotting into place. Except for one thing. Steve. He was being obstinate over the divorce. He claimed that Polly’s writing forced him into the arms of another woman. Polly knew that was utter crap. She gave and signed a statement stating she only wrote during the hours Steve was at the office. When he arrived home, she was always cooking his dinner. His allegation was nothing but fabrication and Max assured her that Steve didn’t have a leg to stand on. The only problem was the whole ugly business of getting divorced could take longer than anticipated.
Polly gave Max’s office a call and made sure all the papers she needed to sign were signed. She didn’t want any interruptions to her holiday. She also called the bank and set up a meeting. She only needed a small house loan for the bungalow, but it was a complicated application because she was a self-employed author. She was embarrassed when the bank manager asked for her autograph. Although she obliged him with a big smile and hoped it would help her chances of getting a mortgage.
The wait for the call from the bank was interminable. Polly resisted the urge to bite off all her nails from nerves. She couldn’t settle at anything and paced up and down the floor while staring at the phone. She drank far too much coffee and by the time the phone did indeed ring, she jumped out of her skin.
While endeavouring to keep calm and sound like a normal human being, Polly answered the phone and almost whooped for joy when the woman on the end of the line told her the application had been processed and accepted. The rest of the conversation Polly barely heard. She was extremely excited. She was going to buy a little bungalow! She couldn’t stop grinning. She thanked the bank advisor far too many times and made the girl giggle, but Polly didn’t care. Her mortgage application had been successful. Now all she had to do was get her home sold and put in an offer on the bungalow.
Suddenly, her mood crashed. It seemed like such a huge mountain to climb. In a panic, she called the real estate agent and asked if there had been much interest in her current house. She played the desperate female card to good effect. He bought it and told her that he’d line up viewings while she was away. All she had to do was drop the key off at his office. Polly breathed a sigh of relief.
A thought occurred to her all of a sudden. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. What if Steve wanted to live in the house himself? That would be the answer to all her prayers. She knew he had stocks and bonds. His company gave them to all the executives as Christmas gifts over the years. Surely he could sell some off and give Polly her share of the equity. However, the last thing she wanted was to speak to the rat personally. So she placed another call to Max and set the ball rolling. After five minutes on the phone with Max, Polly’s mood lifted again. He thought it was an excellent notion and it would go some way to placating Steve. Max also hinted that his wife, Helen, had always loved their house. Polly thanked her lucky stars. Max said he’d call Helen and get her to arrange a viewing the weekend Polly left for Australia.
Polly’s morning went extremely well and she genuinely felt happy for the first time since coming back home from the book tour. She had a light lunch and then, armed with a large mug of coffee, headed into her study to write for the remainder of the day.
* * * *
It was evening by the time Polly emerged, tired and stiff, from her study. With the sequel to Happily Ever After? well underway, she poured herself a celebratory glass of cold Wolf Blass that she kept in the fridge.
While starting on the second glass, Polly rummaged around in the freezer. She was famished and mentally tired. She’d written just over four chapters of the first draft, and she’d planned the story and all the plot twists and turns and written a short synopsis, which she already emailed to Jackie. So she was not surprised that as soon as she popped the frozen lasagne into the oven, her mobile rang and it was Jackie calling.
“Darling, I got your email and I love it already! I’m so glad that you’ve started writing again.”
“Thanks.” Polly smiled. She was glad, too.
“How much did you get down?”
“About four chapters. And the outline and the synopsis, which I sent you.”
“Fabulous! Will you write more tonight?”
“I doubt it. I fly out to Australia tomorrow.”
“And you’ll take your laptop with you, right?”
“Yes, Jackie. Don’t worry. I intend to sit on Palm Beach and write away to my heart’s content.”
Jackie laughed. “I know I’m riding you on this one, but we have to strike while the iron is still hot, hun. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, it’s a good job I like you.” Polly jabbed back.
“Polly, are you all right? I mean, really all right?”
“I think so. Or at least I will be.”
“I hope so. I care about you. What would I do without my diamond writer, hmm?”
What would you do without the mountains of cash I generate for you, you mean? Polly laughed.
“Right, I just wanted to check in with you. I honestly love the synopsis. It’s a great follow-up and your readers will love it. Now have a good holiday and keep in touch.”
“Thanks, Jackie. I intend to.” Polly hung up and shook her head. Even though she liked Jackie a lot and they got on very well, she had the feeling that Jackie was more interested in the sales from Polly’s books than she really was about Polly herself.
She shook the feeling and got back to her glass of wine. The smell from the oven made her stomach rumble. She checked the timer and added the garlic bread. Despite all the crap I’ve been through lately, everything really is going well. I’m sure I will be all right.
Chapter Ten
Polly left the house three hours before check-in. She was certain all the way to the airport that she’d forgotten something. Twice she thought about telling the taxi driver to turn around so she could re-check that the house was safe and locked up tight. Instead, she called Brendan and asked him to check the house for her. He was due back on Sunday night and, despite staying with Abi, he said he’d pop in.
Polly settled into the back of the taxi and tried to enjoy her ride to the airport. Then it hit her. She had forgotten something – to drop the spare key off at the real estate agent’s office. She swore under her breath and asked the driver to take a detour. He was willing, of course; he got paid for the extra kilometres he drove.
She rushed into the office, dropped off the key, made the agent promise to lock the place up well, and then ran back out to the waiting taxi. In the end, she still made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. It wasn’t until she was in the departure lounge and sipping a large cappuccino that she began to relax. She wished she’d bought a lighter laptop, though; lugging it through the airport was already making her back and shoulder ache. She decided to check out the luggage shop to see if they had a rucksack for her laptop to go in, instead.
She reluctantly parted with sixty-five dollars, certain that the rucksack would have been cheaper on the high street, and then found a quiet place to transfer everything from her laptop bag into the new sack. She felt so obvious, as if everyone was watching her. By the time she dumped her bag in the rubbish bin and joined the flow of traffic towards the departure gates, she felt stressed out once again. It was not a good start to her supposedly relaxing holiday. She made a concerted effort to calm down and was determined to have fun from then on.
It wasn’t too hard for Polly to do that. As soon as the flight attendant recognised her, he bumped her to first class. Polly was embarrass
ed to use her fame, but why shouldn’t she? She was personally escorted by the excited attendant to the first-class lounge and then, just as it was when on the tour, she was waited on hand and foot. Yes, this was a vast improvement. Now she began to relax. It was almost a disappointment when the flight was called and she had to leave the lounge to board the plane.
For the next three hours and forty-odd minutes, Polly sat in pure comfort and thoroughly enjoyed the flight from Auckland to the Gold Coast. The meals tasted so much better in first class, she mused, as did the champagne.
Upon her arrival in Australia, Polly sailed through customs and headed to collect her suitcase while wondering why she always felt guilty walking through customs. Then she headed to the interminable queues at the car hire counter. However, because she’d been bumped and subsequently deplaned quickly, she was closer to the front of the queue, and she had also made a reservation. A Hyundai Getz waited for her in the parking lot once she’d completed all the paperwork at the counter. It wasn’t exactly flashy, but it was practical and she’d blend in. She didn’t really want to be recognised again while on holiday. She wished to be able to sit on the beach or by the pool and to forget about real life for two weeks.
* * * *
By the time Polly arrived at the hotel, she was tired, hot, and a little ratty. All she wanted was to take a shower, have a cool drink, and take a dip in the pool. However, that all had to wait. Upon opening the door to her room and going immediately to the French doors, Polly saw a mistake had been made. Her room looked out over the street. She had paid extra for a room with a sea view. Polly sighed. Now she had to go all the way back down to the reception and get them to change her room.
The receptionist was less than helpful. “I’m sorry, Mrs Lloyd, but we don’t have any rooms with a sea view left.”
Polly produced all the booking paperwork from her bag and laid it out on the desk. “Look here.” She pointed. “I paid extra for a room with a sea view and I expect to get what I paid for. Is that too much to ask for?”
The receptionist shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Surely when I make a reservation, the room I book is actually available?”
“Not necessarily, I’m afraid.”
Polly wondered what that meant. Did it mean that the room you end up with is entirely a matter of chance? Polly was getting irritated. “I am sure your hotel isn’t so poorly run.” She didn’t want to play the ‘Do you know who I am?’ card, but she was getting annoyed enough to contemplate it.
From out of the back office came a man with well-oiled black hair. He straightened his blue suit jacket as he looked from Polly to the receptionist and back again. “May I be of assistance?”
“I don’t know, can you?” Polly snapped.
The receptionist explained the situation to him. Her lack of sympathy or empathy dripped off every syllable she uttered.
Thankfully for Polly, the man, who seemed to be the manager, dismissed the receptionist and took control of the situation. “Please accept our sincerest apologies for any inconvenience caused to you, Mrs Lloyd.”
Wow! “Thank you. It’s nice to hear that instead of being brushed off, as your receptionist did.”
The manager at least had the grace to redden at her comment. “Let me see what I can do.”
He spent what seemed like an eternity tapping away on the computer. Polly had a sinking feeling in her stomach and contemplated calling other hotels in the area. She was eyeing up the pay phone and directory in the corner of the foyer when the manager addressed her again.
“I am sorry for the wait. I can manage things for you and get you the room you reserved. However, it will mean a wait of approximately one hour while we get the room ready. The occupants have only recently checked out.”
Polly sighed. At least he’s polite and trying to help. “Very well.” She shook her head. “I am not happy. This is not what I expected from such a prestigious hotel chain.”
The manager reddened again, and this time it spread to his neck. “Again, please accept our apologies. I cannot offer you a refund, I’m afraid, Mrs Lloyd, but perhaps you would accept an upgrade to full board?”
Twice in one day! Perhaps this isn’t as bad as I thought it was. Polly nodded. “Yes, that would be very kind of you.” Inside, she whooped for joy.
While Polly waited for the room to be made ready, she sat in the bar and ordered a long gin and tonic with plenty of ice. She was still tired and ratty. A headache threatened and she desperately wanted to get out of her crumpled, sweaty slacks and take a shower. But with a drink in her hand, she made her way to the terrace and sat overlooking the pool, feeling she’d arrived. She was on holiday. And the hiccups along the way had turned out to be blessings. After all, she now wouldn’t have to worry about her bar bill, nor about finding an affordable place to eat each night. No, the silver lining was certainly sterling this time.
Polly quickly drained her drink and ordered another. As she reached the bottom of that glass, the manager approached her and once again offered her his apologies and informed her the room was now ready.
The wait was well worth it. Polly had splashed out a little on the room. It was more like a suite with a comfy little lounge and writing area. The French doors looked out to the turquoise sea, and the colours in the room echoed the inviting ocean. She wanted a good room with a good view, and that’s precisely what she got. After travelling around the world with the book tour, Polly realised the value in having a luxurious soak in a Jacuzzi bath at the end of the day. And although she didn’t intend to work hard on this trip, she did intend to reward herself with as many long soaks in the tub as possible.
The first thing Polly did after locking the door and opening her case was fling open the French doors, kick off her shoes, and run herself a bath.
* * * *
Later Polly walked along Palm Beach Avenue and headed for the beach enjoying the feel of her new summer maxi dress and sandals. It felt good to be free from heels and slacks for once. She didn’t intend to sunbathe that afternoon, but she desired more than anything to take her sandals off and get her feet into the sea and feel the sand between her toes. The sky was a perfect blue and reminded her of the coast near the bungalow she wanted to buy. That thought filled her with excitement. To buy a house so close to a beach was a lifelong dream of hers. However, there was one difference – the temperature. It was much hotter here along the Gold Coast and it wasn’t long before she wished she had put on her bikini under her dress so she could take a quick dip in the inviting blue-green ocean. Unfortunately, Polly sighed, that would have to wait until tomorrow.
She turned back and headed towards the avenue again. She watched the tourists, did some window-shopping, and made a mental note to visit one or two of the little shops and cafés during her stay. Polly smiled to herself – she was certainly content despite the thought that kept creeping into her mind that this was the first holiday she’d taken without Steve since they met when they were seventeen years old.
While trying to shake the growing feeling of melancholy threatening to overtake her, Polly’s eye fell on a poster pasted to a lamppost. There was a fun fair being held not too far away. She remembered seeing a signpost to the place as she neared her hotel when she arrived and decided it would be fun to walk around the fair that evening. It would certainly chase away the ghost of Steve from her mind.
Polly picked up her pace and headed back to the hotel to wash up, grab something to eat, and then jump in the Getz and head out to the fair.
* * * *
The fair bustled with people, and the thrill and excitement were contagious. Polly played one or two of the games, secretly hoping not to win a goldfish – what would she do with such a thing on holiday?
The doughnut, burger, and candyfloss stalls enticed her with their delicious smells, but she refused to give in. She’d already eaten and overeating on holiday would only result in making her miserable when she discovered that her bikini was too tight. She fou
ght hard to maintain a svelte body over the years and she didn’t want it to go to pot because of two weeks’ self-indulgence in Australia.
All around her lights flashed and people called out to each other. Polly got lost in the crowd, but didn’t mind in the least. She stood for a while watching a family play one of the games. The man was trying to win a teddy bear for a small girl by throwing rope rings around pegs on a rotating board. He missed every single one and the poor little girl started to cry. Polly smiled to see the man running the stall give in and hand the little girl a tiny teddy bear attached to a key ring. Immediately the girl’s tears dried up and she clutched the bear to her chest tightly. Polly’s throat tightened with emotion to see the surprise and delight on the girl’s face and the heartfelt meaning in her voice as she thanked the man for the gift. It’s times like these that my faith in humanity is restored. What a nice man! Polly walked off in the opposite direction. But he’s probably making a killing by overcharging the customers and paying very little for the prizes. Polly smiled wryly and shook her head at her own cynicism.
As she looked up, her eyes fell on a painted board outside a gaudy purple and yellow coloured tent. Polly read the board – Madame Sandrine, Fortune Teller and Clairvoyant. Polly sniffed. She never believed in such things. She watched as a couple emerged from the tent and could not avoid overhearing them.
“That was amazing!”
“How did she know all the stuff about your childhood?”
“I know! How weird…”
