by Penny Kane
Polly smiled as she drifted off to sleep. I’m so knackered; this had better work.
* * * *
When Polly finally awoke the next morning, the sun was shining in through the French doors and beginning to make the room stiflingly hot.
Polly turned over and reached out lazily for Nicco. She patted the sheet beside her. It was cool to the touch. She opened her eyes and tried to focus. Nicco wasn’t there. There was, however, a note on the pillow where he’d slept. She sat up and read what he’d scribbled.
Polly, I’m sorry to leave you without saying good-bye. My brothers would be really pissed off if I didn’t turn up today. I didn’t want to wake you. I hope you understand.
I had a great time last night. You certainly know how to show a bloke a good time.
I’ll call you when we’re done. Fancy dinner on me tonight?
Nic x
Polly swallowed hard. That was it, then. He’d gone out on the boat with his brothers. If her book truly was playing out in real life, she’d never seen him alive again.
Polly shuffled to the edge of the bed and sat staring at the words on the paper in her hand. There was nothing that Polly could do; at some point during that day, there would be a fatal boating accident. Polly felt sick.
She skipped making coffee. She headed straight for the shower and prepared to go out. She decided to go to the beach in the hopes of finding out where they’d sailed from. She didn’t know why she wanted to be there. It was an overwhelming compulsion from which she had no desire to escape. What on earth was going on? Why did fate have it in for her?
As she slipped into her pumps, she began to panic. “Why couldn’t I have written a happy, romance novel?” She double-checked her hair was neatly pinned back, in the mirror. “Because you don’t like romance novels, remember?” She picked up her bag and hunted for the car keys. “But it would have been a darn sight easier to live through.” As she stepped out into the corridor, she pulled the door shut and muttered, “I will certainly bear that in mind…” She headed for the lifts. “…if there’s a next time.”
The foyer was packed with newcomers who’d arrived in a huge coach that blocked the car park exit. Great. That’s just bloody marvellous!
Polly wasn’t the only hotel patron desperate to leave the premises, and eventually the management pressed the coach driver to hasten the baggage unloading and move the vehicle out of the way. Polly heaved a huge sigh of relief when she was finally able to get to her car and drive away.
The beach wasn’t too far away, but what she wanted was the marina. She knew only that it was called Southport. Polly kicked herself for not buying a map or bringing her satnav. She pulled up outside a surfing shop – ok, so surfers weren’t boaties, but they’d surely know where Southport was. She wound down the window and asked a bronzed, sun-bleached young man if he knew.
“The marina?” he asked as he squinted in the sun.
“I guess so. My friend’s going boating from there.”
The young surfer frowned. “Hang on.” He turned back towards the shop and hollered. “Hey, dude, you know where Southport is?”
“Yeah, s’up past Surfer’s Paradise, mate,” came the reply from the unseen man inside the shop.
“Oh, yeah, ta!” He turned back to Polly. “S’up the coast a way. Just take the highway. Go past Surfer’s Paradise and across MacIntosh Island. You’ll see signs for it on the right.”
Polly smiled. The directions seemed relatively straightforward. “Is it far?”
“Nah, ’bout twenty minutes in that.” He nodded at Polly’s car.
“Great! Thank you so much!” Not only were the directions simple, but it wasn’t far at all. Polly felt relieved.
“No worries.” He returned to waxing his board. Polly was forgotten.
She smiled at him and drove off in the direction he indicated. The route was beautiful, but Polly was in no mood to enjoy it. By the time Polly pulled off the highway and was driving along Waterways Drive, she was agitated. The fact that the waterway was littered with boats, dinghies, and yachts only added to her frustration. She decided the best thing to do was to drive up and down in hopes of seeing him. She shook her head. Yeah, as simple as finding a needle in a haystack.
She drove a way down the road, biting her bottom lip and not paying a lot of attention to the road ahead. Then she saw it. The car park for the Southport Yacht Club. That has to be it. Nicco and his brothers must be members. She pulled off the road and into the car park, desperately praying that it wasn’t Members Only parking.
She pulled up in a far corner where hopefully her car wouldn’t be seen and decided if she was stopped, she’d say she was Kiwi and didn’t know it was members only. Despite trying hard to act normally, Polly was certain she was scurrying rather than walking. You have no guarantee that he’s even here. “I know,” she muttered. He might even be out at sea. Then how do you propose to save his life? Polly realised she was being foolish and there was very little she could truly do. However, that didn’t stop her from looking for him.
The longer she hunted for him, the more frantic she became. It’s no use. He’s not here. She sighed.
“Excuse me, madam…”
Polly turned around. A uniformed man headed towards her. The game’s up. I’m going to be asked to leave.
“You seem to be lost. Can I help you at all?”
Polly breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m looking for a friend. Nicco?”
The security guard frowned and thought for a second or two. “Oh, Nicco Maroudis? The Greek brothers? Lots of fun?”
Polly shrugged. “Yes, that’s them.” I hope.
“Oh, they went out hours ago. They often leave early.” He looked her up and down. “Were you meant to go out with them?”
Polly lied. “Yeah, I’m a bit late.”
“I’d say!” He laughed. “Well, you certainly have missed them, but you’re welcome to wait for them in the clubhouse bar if you like.”
“That would be great.” She smiled weakly. She didn’t think waiting for him was the wisest thing to do.
The man’s walkie-talkie squawked to life. “Excuse me, madam.” He walked away from her and out of earshot. When he came back to her, he was in a hurry. “I have to go now, madam, we had a little incident, and I’m needed.”
“Tourists, eh?” she asked, hoping to get some more information.
“Something like that. The clubhouse is that way.” He pointed to the building ahead of them and hurried off to wherever he was needed.
Polly was suspicious. What was the incident? Was it an accident? And was Nicco involved?
She hung back a bit and then followed the man at a distance. He headed to a lifeboat. Polly’s stomach sank. He was in a rush. She feared the worst.
As Polly neared the lifeboat, other people had started to gather round. She tried to listen to their conversations to hear what was going on, but couldn’t get any more information than that there had been an accident.
Nearing panic, she turned to a woman near her. “What’s going on?”
The woman shook her head at her. “I have no idea. Someone said there was an accident.”
Polly knew that much already. However, the man next to her spoke up after hearing the woman speak to her. “Apparently a boat’s capsized. They’re heading out to rescue them from the water now.” He pointed to the lifeboat as it launched into the sea.
Polly was pale and felt sick. “Do you know if anyone’s injured?”
The man shrugged. “Dunno. We’ll soon find out if an ambulance turns up, won’t we?”
That only served to make Polly feel worse. More and more people joined the throng and some of the rumours that circulated said someone was dead. What am I going to do? She knew full well the only thing she could do was hang tight and wait and see what happened.
* * * *
Polly made her way to the short wall along the marina path and sat down. Her legs felt as if they would give way out from under her. It was certainly possible
that Nicco’s boat was involved in the accident. And it was also possible Nicco was dead. However, the small voice in her head reminded her it’s also possible that the accident has nothing to do with him and he’s in the clubhouse knocking back a few bevvies with his brothers. Polly hoped that was true, but she was unconvinced and almost at the point of tears.
A scuffle behind her drew her attention and Polly saw an ambulance had indeed arrived and was backing up to get as near to the walkway as possible. Behind the ambulance came a large group of people from the clubhouse, all huddled together. I bet they’re the family. They must have been having lunch inside. One woman was weeping and Polly felt deeply sorry for her. She had some idea of the pain she was feeling at not knowing whether her loved one was alive or dead.
Polly remained seated on the wall and thought about her life. She didn’t believe in magic, and she didn’t believe in any particular deity, but she believed in fate. She shook her head. It was ironic. If it was fate that Nicco died, then why had she fought so hard to prevent it? Surely that went against all she believed in. That’s not the point. Jackie and Brendan are right. It is impossible that my book is coming true. It’s all in my subconscious mind. I am making it all happen. Despite still not entirely being convinced of that fact, it felt more plausible at the moment. But what if Nicco is dead? How did my subconscious mind make that happen?
A cry went up and a ruckus near the jetty told Polly the lifeboat was coming back. The marina’s security moved some of the people out of the way, and Polly stood on the wall to get a better view. She couldn’t see much, but she saw that the rescued passengers were wrapped in red thermal blankets to keep them warm. She strained to see if she recognised anyone, but couldn’t see too well at that distance.
Polly waited patiently with the other spectators until the lifeboat docked. She was amazed that some people were taking photographs with their phones. What for?
As soon as the boat pulled up to the jetty, the ambulance crew ran up to the side and helped the passengers to disembark. One of them had a nasty cut on his temple and was quickly whisked away to the ambulance.
One of the women from the family Polly saw arrive screamed. Polly stood on tiptoes to see what she was screaming at. A body was being taken off the boat and they lifted the corner of the blanket to show the woman the face. Polly’s heart lurched in pain for the poor woman and she hoped it wasn’t Nicco. The woman and the body were taken away to another ambulance, which had just that moment arrived when Polly saw Nicco getting off the boat.
“Oh, thank God!” she cried out.
The man next to her heard her cry. “You know that man?”
Polly nodded. “Yes.”
The man pulled Polly down off the wall and pushed her through the crowd. “Let her through, she knows one of the survivors!”
Polly was embarrassed but glad of his assistance. With the relief of seeing Nicco alive, she didn’t care if attention was drawn to her. Polly was pushed through the crowd towards the clearing and she smiled as she neared and caught Nicco’s eye. He smiled at Polly and turned to greet her, but as he did, a woman called out “Nicasio!” She pushed her way through the crowd. “Nicasio! Let me through. I’m his wife!”
Time stood still for Polly and her heart stopped. She stared in astonishment as Nicco turned towards the woman, who embraced him and kissed him fully on the lips. “I thought you were…” She burst into tears and he held her tight. As they were led away towards the ambulances, Nicco turned back to Polly, shrugged, and mouthed ‘sorry’.
Polly didn’t realise that the man who had helped her to the front of the crowd was still standing beside her until he spoke. “Bastard.”
Polly only nodded. She couldn’t speak. She’d been played and it hurt. She knew it was only a holiday romance and it wouldn’t last after she returned home to Auckland, but that didn’t excuse him. She felt sick. She was as bad as Steve now.
“You ok, love?”
She stared at the man as her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head.
“Do you have a car?”
She nodded, turned, and pointed in the direction of where she’d parked.
“Come on. I’ll help you get there.” The man placed his hand on Polly’s shoulder and turned her about. He looked at the woman on his other side. “Let’s get her to her car.” The woman pulled a sad, pitying face at Polly. She couldn’t help herself; the tears fell.
The man and wife, it turned out, were called Doug and Maeve and were very kind to her. Polly couldn’t remember the last time she’d met such lovely people. It was a shame she wouldn’t get to know them any better. They walked her to the car and saw her safely into it. Maeve even gave her a hug before she got in. Polly was amazed to see such kindness in strangers.
“Take it easy now on those roads, you hear?” Maeve called as Polly backed out of the parking space and rolled down the window to thank the couple again.
The man nodded at her thanks. “You’re better off without a sleaze like that, I reckon.”
Polly drove off and waved at the couple. She managed to drive back to the highway before the full floodgates opened and she sobbed. She pulled over onto the hard shoulder and let it all out. She called Nicco all the names under the sun, but still felt guilty herself. I should have asked if he was single. I’m such an idiot.
Despite the fact that Nicco was married, they had fun and she cared about him. She had to admit to herself that she was truly glad he hadn’t died in the accident. However, that thought then reminded her someone had died. She felt sick again. Next time, I’m not going to write anything so upsetting. That man died because of me. She shook her head. “Don’t be so stupid. None of this is your fault,” she cried aloud. Isn’t it? It’s my book that’s coming true. My words, my thoughts, and my story. It’s my fault. There was no arguing with that. She cried again. All she wanted now was to get on the plane and go home.
Chapter Fifteen
Polly arrived back at the hotel, parked the car, and then walked back towards a parade of shops nearby. She had missed breakfast and lunch and was hungry. She didn’t fancy eating anywhere full of people, so she bypassed the Chinese and Indian restaurants and headed towards the pub at the end of the road.
It was much darker inside the pub and a quick look satisfied her that they served food. She seated herself in a corner and caught the waitress’s eye.
“G’day. Do you want to see the menu?” she asked Polly cheerfully.
Try as hard as she might, Polly could not return the smile. “Yes, please.”
The waitress handed her the menu. “Can I get you something to drink right now?”
“A large gin and tonic on ice.”
The pretty young waitress smiled and left. Polly knew she noticed she’d been crying. Women tended to notice these things. Polly delved into her handbag. If it was obvious she’d been crying, then maybe her makeup had run. She checked in her compact mirror and touched up her face, but there were no mascara trails to remove, thankfully.
Polly checked the menu before the waitress returned. She wanted as little human contact as possible right now. Polly wasn’t a red meat eater, but the steak and kidney pie was certainly tempting. She knew it was comfort food, but what the heck – she needed comforting.
The drink arrived, and shortly afterwards, the food. Polly was taken aback at the size of the serving. Ever heard of portion control? There’s no way I’ll get through all that.
Regardless, Polly tucked in. It was delicious and exactly what she needed. She ordered another gin and tonic on ice and settled down in the corner to enjoy her meal and wallow in her sorrows.
The pie was perfect, as were the vegetables and gravy. The mashed potato was creamy and Polly enjoyed every mouthful, yet her sorrows were not sated by the comfort food. Are they ever? I’ll only regret this later. She raised her hand and caught the waitress’s eye. “Do you have any cheesecake?” Yeah, cheesecake will do the trick.
Polly polished off the entire plate and
the dollop of ice cream, too. She felt overly full, but finally sated. Perhaps it was the food, but more likely it was the four gin and tonics that she drank that finally chased away her blues.
She paid the bill and left, laughing at herself for almost waddling out the door. She stopped off at a convenience store on the way back to the hotel and bought a family bag of M&Ms and another bag of Malborough Sea Salt crisps, as well as a 2-litre bottle of Coke. If I’m going to comfort eat, then I’m jolly well going to do it properly!
* * * *
Once in the hotel, Polly checked to see which films were on TV. She had a niggling feeling that Nicco might try to call her to smooth things over. She certainly did not want to speak to him at all, ever again, so she turned off her mobile phone.
There were a couple of romantic comedies on and despite not wanting to watch one, by the time she’d poured herself a glass of Coke, the story drew her in. Mindlessly she watched the film while stuffing crisps into her mouth and washing them down with Coke. Polly didn’t care. Again, she was hurting, and again, she wanted to withdraw into herself and heal.
She had three days remaining of her holiday and she wanted to shrug off all of the emotional baggage and get some relaxing, sunbathing, and writing done. The last thing she wanted was for her holiday to have been a complete and utter waste of time.
No, it wasn’t a waste of time. She began to heal from the betrayal of a best friend and husband. She found some healing and solace in a lover’s arms. Unfortunately, now that her lover turned out to be married, she had to heal from that hurt. However, it wasn’t deep. They hadn’t known each other long enough for the hurt to be profound. It stung more than anything. The fact that Nicco hadn’t been honest was what hurt the most.
She thought about that as she poured another class of Coke. Had he truly been dishonest, or had he just omitted to tell her he was married? After all, Polly hadn’t told him she was still married and getting divorced, had she? She smiled at the irony. She and Nicco used each other for something that was lacking and which they needed in their lives at that moment. Were both of them equally to blame?
