The Cottage at Rosella Cove

by Sandie Docker

  She waved to Trevor, who looked up from the sideline with a triumphant grin across his face.

  ‘No matter how bloody embarrassing it is,’ Mandy whispered in Nicole’s ear.

  When the boys came off at full time, met with cheers and pats on the backs, they headed straight for Nicole.

  Surrounding her in a happy huddle, they cheered. ‘Three cheers for Nicole. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.’

  Danny lingered as the rest of the players went to join their families.

  ‘Thanks for coming today. As far as that lot are concerned you’re our official lucky charm now.’ He winked. ‘Not sure they would have gone into the game confident if you weren’t here. Come celebrate with us at the pub, hey?’

  Nicole nodded.

  Down at The Royal, Trevor handed Nicole and Mandy a glass of wine each. The whole team raised their glasses in salute with a chant of ‘Rangers rule, Rangers rule’, until they both raised their own in response.

  ‘Hurrah!’ came the collective shout.

  From the jukebox in the corner, Nicole heard the first few bars of ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’ ring out. Trevor gave Mandy a cheeky grin and danced towards her. As one, the crowd parted and he took Mandy by the hands, leading her to the middle of the room.

  As Nicole watched the couple that had caught everyone’s attention, Danny made his way over to her. He’d gone home and changed into dark jeans, a grey T-shirt and black leather jacket. Nicole couldn’t help but notice he cut a rather dashing silhouette. How had he managed that so quickly?

  ‘Cute, aren’t they?’ he said as he edged beside her.

  ‘Yeah, they make a pretty good case for the true love fanatics.’

  ‘Not a believer?’

  ‘A love agnostic, shall we say?’ She gave a half-smile then became suddenly very aware of Danny’s warm body beside her. She knew she had to change the conversation, retreat, but how? Before she could get too flustered, Danny saved her from an awkward attempt at small talk.

  ‘So, how are you liking life at the cove?’

  ‘It’s very different from Sydney, but I can’t complain about how welcoming everyone has been.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re a friendly lot. Bit strange sometimes.’ He laughed, nodding his head towards George trying to remove one of the young boys hanging upside down from the ancient bar top.

  ‘Well, weird isn’t restricted to the country.’ Nicole shrugged.

  ‘No. Never really spent much time in the city myself, but I reckon you’ve got your fair share of crazy there.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Have you got much writing done since you’ve been here? Mandy’s hoping you will write her into your next book, I think.’ Danny turned his body ever so slightly towards Nicole and bent to speak close enough to her ear for her to hear above the crowd. He smelled of orange and cinnamon.

  She coughed. ‘Oh. Um. I’m not really …’

  ‘You’re not writing?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve got anything else to say.’ She had been filling up her notebook with questions and thoughts, yes. But she was still a long way off finding inspiration to actually write.

  ‘Maybe all you need is time.’

  ‘Time?’ Nicole frowned.

  ‘Joseph Heller took thirteen years to get his second book out after Catch-22.’

  Nicole laughed. ‘And no one can remember the name of it.’

  ‘Maybe not. But that’s the only literary reference I have, I’m afraid.’ Danny grinned.

  Nicole stared into his green eyes and felt her cheeks flush.

  ‘But I guess if writing is no longer your thing, you could take up flipping houses.’

  ‘Doing what to houses?’

  ‘Flipping them. Buying cheap, renovating and then selling for a profit.’

  Nicole shook her head. ‘I think you’re overestimating my renovation abilities there.’ And my budget, she thought.

  ‘Well, unlike literature, this is an area I do know something about, and for a rookie renovator, what you’ve achieved so far is pretty impressive.’ A smile spread across his face and Nicole was rendered speechless.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, touching her forearm.

  ‘Yeah.’ She scrambled to change the topic. ‘They’re just so cute.’ She looked at Mandy and Trevor, who were wrapping up their performance.

  ‘Shall we outdo them?’ His eyes were bright with daring.

  ‘Not possible. That would be like competing with —’

  ‘Fred and Ginger?’

  Nicole nodded.

  ‘Perhaps not, then.’ Danny winked. ‘Can I get you another drink? You’ve hardly touched that one.’

  ‘No, I’m done for the night.’ The last thing she needed right now was alcohol to cloud her judgement.

  ‘Water? Squash? Cup of tea?’

  He was looking so earnestly at her. She couldn’t keep rebuffing. ‘I could do with a water, I guess.’

  She watched him as he walked to the bar and let out a long sigh.

  ‘Oh boy, that song is going to kill me one of these days,’ Mandy said as she appeared at Nicole’s side.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, you looked great.’

  ‘Much consolation, indeed.’ Mandy fanned her cheeks with her hands.

  ‘There you go, ladies.’ Danny returned with two glasses of water. ‘Compliments of the winning captain.’

  ‘Last of the big spenders, this one.’ Mandy laughed.

  ‘But you love me anyway.’ Danny gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘True.’

  ‘I’ll leave you ladies to it, then.’ He slipped back through the crowd and rejoined his teammates seamlessly.

  Nicole coughed and moved her attention back to Mandy. ‘You’ve done that dance a few times, I take it?’

  ‘More than a few. It’s kind of our song.’ She grinned. ‘Every time it plays Trev takes me for a spin like we’re teenagers again.’

  ‘Hang on,’ Nicole said. ‘You have blue eyes.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Then how come …’

  ‘Well, Trevor believed for years the words were “bright-eyed girl” and when we first started going out he’d sing it to me. I didn’t have the heart to correct him. He was so darn cute and it was only when he decided that it should be our wedding song and went looking for a copy of it that he realised.’

  ‘Oh no.’ Nicole raised her hand to her chest.

  ‘Bless his cotton socks, he was so upset. But I still thought of it as our song, you know, and in the end we did it anyway. During the wedding dance everybody shouted out “bright” whenever “brown” was sung. It turned out to be pretty special.’ She smiled fondly.

  Someone put another song on the jukebox and pockets of friends started singing when the chorus of ‘What’s My Scene’ started.

  Happy noise filled the pub and Nicole was glad there was no more chance to talk.

  She leaned in closer to Mandy’s ear. ‘I might call it a night.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Nicole nodded.

  ‘Why don’t I pop round on Wednesday and give you your first cooking lesson? I’m off work.’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘Done. Night.’ Mandy gave Nicole a parting kiss on the cheek.

  Lying in bed, Nicole tossed and turned. She could still feel the touch of Danny’s hand on her arm, still feel his warm breath in her ear. But it was too soon. She wasn’t ready for this.

  Anyway, maybe she was misreading the whole situation. Why would someone like Danny be interested in her? If there was one thing she’d learned from her previous life, it was that feelings couldn’t be trusted.

  Ever.

  August, Last Year

  Nicky had a mission.

  If she’d learned anything these past few months since her spectacularly silent fallout with Jane, it was what she really wanted. And what she really wanted was to finally get married to Mark.

  Every time she tried t
o raise the topic of setting a date, he deflected with one excuse or another. He was working on a big case; one of the partners had taken extended leave; he wanted time to just enjoy being a couple before the drama that came with organising a wedding; didn’t she think she should get her second book finished before the distraction of a wedding took over their lives. Every time he made his case he was logical and intelligent and convincing.

  But when did logic come into love? It certainly didn’t for Nicky.

  She knew she wasn’t going to best him in an argument. There was no point even trying that route. She had to find another way.

  As she sat under her Moreton Bay fig in Hyde Park, she watched the people walking by, wondering how each one of them would handle the predicament she found herself in. The old man walking his terrier might take a pragmatic approach and decide that the marriage didn’t matter as long as they were together. The young woman jogging past her, iPhone strapped to her upper arm, might issue an ultimatum. The middle-aged woman dressed in a grey skirt-suit talking into an earpiece might just go ahead and organise the wedding regardless and simply tell the groom to turn up on the day.

  Nicky chuckled to herself. Perhaps that was not the best approach to take. She knew she had to do something to shake Mark out of his complacency. But what?

  A woman pushing a pram stopped and sat beside her on the bench. Carefully she lifted her baby out and sat him in her lap. She bounced him gently as he looked with wide eyes out onto the world passing before him.

  Nicky felt a soft tug at her heart. They had talked about children. Often. They’d discussed having three or four and how they couldn’t wait to start their family.

  Could she just let nature take its course? Let fate decide?

  No. As desperate as she was to marry Mark, she couldn’t get pregnant to force his hand. That wouldn’t be fair.

  What she could do, maybe, was use it as leverage in a discussion. Appeal to his paternal instincts. Given her family history if they wanted three or four kids, then it might not be wise to wait too long. Maybe this avenue was the one that could win her the argument.

  She spent the rest of the day preparing the perfect evening. The apartment was immaculate. She bought fresh flowers for the table and ordered in Mark’s favourite meal, including dessert, from the little Portuguese bistro round the block. For the finishing touch she decided to wear her blue dress – his favourite.

  She was surprised by her own eloquence and poise as she made her case to Mark. He dug in to his lemon meringue pie, and then sat back and listened to her reasoning.

  ‘So, that’s what tonight is all about, then?’ He crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘Impressive argument, counsellor. How about this? In twelve months, I’ll have been partner long enough to be firmly entrenched, you’ll have had plenty of time to finish your next book, and we should be in a position then to get married.’

  ‘So, we’re setting the date? Twelve months from today?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  She ran around the table and hugged him tightly. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to be Mrs Avery and have little Marks running around the place.’

  Nicky hadn’t slept so well in months. With the issue of the wedding date sorted, she’d slipped into a deep sleep and every morning for the last week, she’d needed her alarm to wake her up at five. She sat at her computer, the morning sun filtering through the window warming her back. Despite a week of blissful sleep, for the last few days the words remained stuck somewhere in her mind, inaccessible. She knew what was wrong. She couldn’t stop thinking about wedding plans. And wedding plans meant thinking about the bridal party. And that meant thinking about Jane.

  She hadn’t tried to make contact with her friend since seeing the photo of her and Miles on Facebook, but whenever she thought about her own wedding, she couldn’t help but want Jane by her side. Maybe this was the olive branch they needed.

  Her hands shook as she pulled out her phone.

  ‘Jane, I think …’

  Delete.

  ‘Hey, Jane, just thought …’

  Delete.

  Argh. The right words were not easy to find. Maybe there were no right words. Maybe there were just honest words.

  ‘Jane. I miss you. If I upset you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Mark and I have set a date and I really want you to be part of my wedding. Please respond.’

  With the text sent, Nicky felt a sense of relief.

  The words flowed more easily then and by the afternoon she felt she had a handle on the beginning of her new manuscript. She made a cuppa and sat on the balcony of the apartment looking out to the street below. A fire engine screamed past, people rushed along the footpath with their heads down, taxis beeped their horns.

  Mark would be pleased with her writing progress today. Every morning as he left for work he’d say it was a great day to write. Every night he’d come home and ask how she did. When she moaned she had writer’s block he’d say, ‘If you didn’t dwell so much on the block, you might be able to shake it off.’ When she scowled at him in response he’d embrace her. ‘I just know how talented you are and I can’t wait to read your next book.’

  She really needed to think of a way to thank him. He believed in her. Her writing. It was only a month till his birthday and she wanted to get him something wonderful.

  After an hour searching the net for unique gifts, everything seemed just a little bit naff. Then it hit her. A holiday. A mini weekend getaway somewhere romantic, somewhere exclusive.

  She researched locations and hotels and in the end decided on the stunning mountain lodge overlooking a valley in the Blue Mountains. It was a lot more than she would normally be comfortable spending, but she had to make this birthday special. It wouldn’t hurt to dip into their savings a little.

  Her phone beeped with a text and her heart soared with the hope it might be Jane.

  But it was Mark. His late meeting tonight had been cancelled. He was going to grab a quick drink at the office and be home earlier than expected.

  Well, at least that was something.

  She turned back to the computer screen and clicked the ‘book’ button for the hotel. Yes, this was just what they both needed.

  At the checkout page her debit card was declined. Strange. There should be more than enough to cover it. She tried again. Nope.

  She flicked through her diary, looking for her internet banking details. She never used it. She had the debit card for day-to-day expenses and all their bills were set up to be direct payments. What did she need with internet banking?

  When she found the login and password, disguised as a phone number, she loaded the bank’s site. The little red circle spun round as she waited and then she pulled up their joint account.

  She frowned. Maybe she was looking at the wrong page. No. She was in the right section. But that couldn’t be right. There should have been something in the vicinity of twenty thousand dollars in there. But she looked at the screen trying to compute the information in front of her.

  The balance of the account was only five hundred dollars. Where had their money gone?

  Nicky tried ringing Mark for the fourth time. No answer. She sent another text and tried to make it sound more urgent without sounding too panicky. The news had been full of stories lately about cybercrimes and identity theft. She felt sick in her stomach at the thought.

  After what felt like hours, he finally arrived home.

  ‘Honey, something terrible’s happened. Someone’s hacked into our account and taken our money.’ She ran up to him.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I wanted to do something nice for your birthday …’ her words spilled forth desperately as she tried to calm her fear. ‘We need to call the bank.’

  Mark sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. Nicky lowered herself beside him. Why was he being so calm about this?

  ‘Nicky, our money is perfectly safe. I transferred it into a high-interest bearing account. So w
e can get that deposit sooner. We only keep enough in that account now for daily expenses.’

  ‘What? When did that happen?’

  He patted her knee. ‘When we first discussed your prize money. I told you Gregory had a financial adviser. He said this was the best way to do it.’

  Nicky racked her brain, trying to recall the discussion they first had about it. All she could remember, though, was leaving it up to Mark to organise.

  He frowned. ‘The high-interest account isn’t locked. We can transfer money back anytime we like.’

  ‘How do I do that?’

  ‘Well, we have to go through the financial adviser. But with a bit of notice he can do it. There’s plenty of money in my account to pay for a holiday though.’

  ‘Oh. But I wanted to do this for you. Use my money.’

  Mark took her hands in his. ‘Nicky, you seem to keep forgetting we’re engaged. There’s no mine or yours. It’s all ours.’

  Nicky shrugged. It wasn’t quite the same.

  ‘Why don’t we talk to the adviser tomorrow and transfer some money out? We’ll lose a bit of interest, but we’ll make it back up in the long run.’

  ‘No. That doesn’t make any sense.’ She shook her head. There was no point losing interest.

  Mark told her how touched he was that she would think to do this for him, and suggested they book the holiday anyway, using money from his everyday account and treat it like a pre-wedding honeymoon.

  This wasn’t what she’d been going for, but the thought of getting away together was too enticing and she agreed. Next year she’d come up with a better plan for his birthday.

  The following Friday Nicky stood at the bar at Mark’s firm’s party while he worked the room. She looked around at the familiar yet distant faces. She knew the names of some and had been to dinner once or twice with a couple of them. The rest she wouldn’t have known if they were employees or clients or random people off the street. And none of them made an effort to talk to her.

  The two gentlemen in grey suits next to her were talking about some case they were working on. She tried to listen in. Anything would have been better than the silence she was trapped in. But they were speaking so low, she couldn’t make out a word.