Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.
…
Before we embarked on the great driving expedition, for which I was beginning to think might be harder than it seemed to Boggs’ one-track mind, we decided to go and check out the mall, and if, indeed, there was an underground river, or, at the very least, if his flooding theory was correct.
We were going to need very old clothes, and when I left the next morning, my mother noticed it.
“I’m going to do some gardening with Boggs. He came up with this notion we could help out at the old folk’s home.”
“That’s a nice thought.”
And it was a lie I knew would eventually come back to bite me. My mother hadn’t exactly told me to stop seeing Boggs, because she was beginning to think his mental capacity had been diminished after the beating.
It was a logical and perfectly acceptable reason for his odd behavior.
I went directly to Boggs’ house, and he was waiting for me. From there it was about twenty minutes, to a spot where he knew the surrounding fence had a hole big enough for us to crawl through.
It was odd seeing the place again, sitting out a few miles from the town, looking forlorn. At the front entrance, off the road specially built between it and the town, there were miles of cyclone fencing, with signs alternately telling people to keep out on threat of prosecution for trespass, and more recently, hazard signs proclaiming the whole area was unsafe.
From where we’d stopped, we could see the carpark, enough for hundreds of cars, a bus terminus, a taxi rank, and the front façade of the shopping center, mostly looking like the front of a castle, with towers and ramparts.
There had been auxiliary plans for a medieval theme park at one stage, that would have blended in with the mall buildings, but that had to be abandoned, even though the land allocated to it was stable. Or so a surveyor said.
We continued on until we reached the side leading to the marina. From this vantage point looking one way, there was the ocean, and the other, the damage to the side of the mall buildings, the cracks, and, in places, where the roof had collapsed.
This would be the first time I’d set foot in the place since it had been a mall.
It had been popular, and there was always plenty of people shopping, eating and drinking, going to the cinemas, or just having a day out. There had also been a museum dedicated to the naval days.
Now there was nothing.
It was ironic that as many of the castles in the British Isles that had been reduced to rubble, that was exactly what was going to happen here if someone didn’t take a bulldozer to the lot and level it out.
And that might happen sooner rather than later. This was reputed to be the site of many a disappearance of a local person. Three girls, two men, and a boy were supposedly hidden somewhere inside the mall, but the bodies had never been found.
I was thinking of those missing people when I said, with a degree of trepidation, “Do you really want to do this? I mean, if you’re sure there’s an underground waterway here, I’ll happily take your word for it.”
Boggs just shook his head. “You’re the last person I’d expect to chicken out.”
“It not that.”
“Isn’t it? I can go by myself if you’re worried about getting hurt.”
“No. You and me together. I have to learn to fight those fears.”
Another look, then, “OK. “Just a little further.”
Another minute or so, we reached a large rusting cylinder which had an almost illegible sign on it say the tank held inflammable liquid. I tapped on the metal and it sounded empty. I guess as part of the shut down they would have had to drain the tank. I followed the tangle of pipes that ran slightly downhill for about 20 yards and then saw the opening in the fence Boggs had referred to.
We left our bikes behind the tank, among some bushes.
We then walked down to the fence line where the pipes passed through, and Boggs pulled back the chain wire. A closer look showed it had been cut halfway up, making it easy to slip by, easier if there were two people along for the visit.
“Did you cut the fence,” I asked him.
He didn’t answer. I guess he wanted me to think he had.
“Have you been here before?”
“Through here, yes. A few times.” He held the wire away and I climbed through. I did the same for him on the other side, and he joined me. The two halves melded back together so from a distance no one could tell the fence had been tampered with.
From the fence, we had to cross the access road to the marina, and across a carpark, now overgrown with weeds, and bushes, with the odd tree springing up through the cracks in the concrete.
The wall, when we reached it, was where several large cracks joined, and part of the wall had fallen away leaving a hole large enough to crawl through. I put my head through the crack and could barely see anything. There was light coming from the seaward side, but on the other, it was inky darkness.
There was also a very disturbing aroma, like freshly laid concrete crossed with the smell of a garage repair shop. Years of spilled oil and grease.
“Is it safe?” I asked.
Boggs shrugged. “It could all fall down at any moment. You read the signs on the fence. Basically, this is, on one hand, cheating death. On the other, we could be on the verge of an interesting discovery.” Then, without another word, he went through the gap and inside.
A few seconds later, I could see the light from his cell phone.
I shrugged. If anything happened, like the building falling on me, I probably wouldn’t feel it. And he was right, we could be on the verge of an interesting discovery.
I followed him inside and slid down the broken concrete and bricks to a dirty but solid-feeling floor, where Boggs was waiting, the light from his phone pointed in the direction of a storefront.
And looking at a dummy still dressed in clothes left behind.
I couldn’t help but think I’d seen that style of clothes somewhere before.
I wanted to write a bit about how my day was going, and then I got angry. It was a slow fuse because most of what I was angry about I’d been reading this morning.
And, yes, it’s about political leaders, those in power and those in opposition, and how inept they are in a crisis.
Listening to our opposition leader, briefly before I turned him off to watch a rerun of McHale’s Navy, it annoyed me that he had no answers to offer, only criticism.
Unfortunately, he’s not alone in the world.
Political leaders tended to blame everyone else for problems of their own making, whether it was when they were once in power, which happens a lot, or once they’re in opposition, conveniently forgetting they, too, hoped that by ignoring the problem, it might go away.
Or that the long-suffering public will have forgotten. That’s why we have pugnacious journalists who remember for us.
The incompetence of the people who are supposedly in charge beggars belief.
Oh, God, I’m back on my soapbox.
Forgive me.
I’ll shut up about it now.
I’m trying to imagine what it’s like in the cold because it’s the height of summer here. It’s not helping my imagination, so let’s try…
It’s cold today, about 14 degrees Celsius, when it’s usually 27 degrees Celsius. The sun is letting us down, and I suppose I should be grateful that we are not suffering from an ice age.
To be honest, I was seriously considering lighting the log fire. Instead, we have reverse cycle air-conditioning, which is probably, in the long run, cheaper.
Have you seen how much it costs to buy wood?
But…
That could have made it difficult to write.
Not to come up with inspiration, but literally write, because my office is colder than a chiller room. My beer in storage out here is colder than it is in the fridge. Well, that sounded better in my head than on paper, but you get what I mean.
So, instead of writing, I sat down and binge-watched Sweet Magnolias, a light-hearted series from Netflix, which is of the same vein as Chesapeake Shores, etc, and more the sort of program I’d expect from Hallmark.
It was good. It hooked me.
Three sets of lives intertwined in a large town in middle America perhaps. I heard Charleston mentioned so perhaps it was in South Carolina.
The good thing about it? Not one mention of political stupidity.
Just good old-fashioned heartache and trials and tribulations of trying to live your life, bumping up against the obstacles life throws up at you.
The town was called Serenity, so there’s a pun in there somewhere.
Navigating the Beta Reader Journey: Finding Your Tribe and Embracing the Feedback
You’ve poured your heart, soul, and countless hours into your manuscript. The final word is typed, the last paragraph polished (for the tenth time), and the initial exhilaration of “The End” begins to fade, replaced by a new, exciting, and slightly terrifying question: What now?
For many authors, the answer is: beta readers.
Beta readers are your book’s first audience. They’re not editors, but rather regular readers who offer fresh eyes and honest feedback on the story, characters, pacing, and overall impact before you dive into professional editing. Think of them as your secret weapon for uncovering blind spots and ensuring your manuscript truly shines.
But how do you find these elusive, invaluable individuals? And once you do, what should you expect from the experience? Let’s dive in.
Part 1: The Great Beta Reader Hunt – Finding Your Tribe
Finding the right beta readers is less about luck and more about strategic searching and clear communication. Here are some of the best places to look:
Online Writing Communities:
Goodreads Groups: Many groups are specifically dedicated to beta reading and critique. Search for “beta readers,” “critique partners,” or your specific genre.
Facebook Groups: Similar to Goodreads, there are countless author and writer groups. Be sure to read group rules before posting your request.
Reddit: Subreddits like r/betareaders, r/DestructiveReaders (for advanced critiques), and r/writing often have threads or dedicated days for seeking feedback.
Dedicated Critique Sites (e.g., Scribophile, Critique Circle): These platforms operate on a credit system, where you earn credits by critiquing others’ work, which you then use to get critiques on your own. This ensures active participation and reciprocal feedback.
Writer Friends & Networks:
Author Buddies: If you have author friends (even if they write in different genres), they can be excellent beta readers because they understand the writing process. You can even swap manuscripts.
Local Writing Groups: Check your local library, community centre, or independent bookstores for writing groups. These often have members eager to lend an eye.
Conference Connections: Anyone you’ve met at writing conferences or workshops could be a potential beta.
Your Existing Audience (with caution):
If you have an email list, a strong social media following, or a blog, you might ask your most engaged readers.
Caveat: Ensure they understand they’re giving constructive criticism, not just fan praise. Make it clear you’re looking for honest feedback to improve, not just compliments.
Preparing Your “Beta Reader Ask”:
Before you send out that SOS, have these ready:
A concise Blurb/Synopsis: Something that hooks potential readers and accurately describes your book.
Genre & Word Count: Crucial for attracting readers who enjoy your type of story and have the time to commit.
Target Reader Profile: Who is your ideal reader? This helps betas assess if they’re a good fit.
Specific Questions: What kind of feedback are you looking for? (e.g., “Did the plot twists land?” “Were the characters believable?” “Was the pacing consistent?” “Where did you get confused or bored?”)
Timeline: Be realistic. A novel usually takes 2-4 weeks for a thorough read.
Desired Format: Do you want comments directly in the document, a questionnaire, or a general email?
Part 2: Embracing the Feedback – What to Expect
You’ve found your betas, sent out your manuscript, and the feedback starts rolling in. This is where the real growth happens, but it can also be an emotional rollercoaster.
Expect a Mix of Feedback:
The Good:
Validation: Someone loved your villain! A scene you adored resonated with them. This is fuel for your writing soul.
Clarity: They pinpointed exactly where something clicked, or where they understood your intentions.
Big Picture Insights: They spotted a plot hole, identified a character whose motivations were unclear, or suggested a pacing adjustment that makes perfect sense. This is gold.
The Challenging (But Necessary):
Conflicting Opinions: One beta loves a character, another finds them annoying. One thinks a scene is too long, another wishes it were longer. This is normal! Not every reader will agree, and it’s your job to find the common threads and decide what resonates with your vision.
Areas of Weakness: They might point out plot inconsistencies, underdeveloped subplots, or moments where tension sags. These aren’t personal attacks; they’re opportunities for improvement.
Honest (Sometimes Blunt) Language: Some readers are more direct than others. Try to detach emotion and focus on the substance of the feedback.
The Less Useful:
Line Edits/Typos: While appreciated, this isn’t their primary job. Don’t base major revisions on these.
Vague Statements: “I just didn’t like it.” Without specifics, this is hard to act on.
Personal Preferences vs. Objective Issues: “I don’t like fantasy” isn’t helpful if you wrote a fantasy novel. Focus on feedback that points to structural or storytelling problems, not just taste.
How to Process Beta Reader Feedback:
Take a Deep Breath: It’s your baby, and hearing criticism can sting. Give yourself time to cool down before responding or making decisions.
Don’t Defend: Listen, read, absorb. Thank them for their time and honesty. This isn’t a debate.
Look for Patterns: If multiple betas point out the same issue (e.g., “The beginning was slow,” “I didn’t understand why Character X did that”), that’s a signal to pay serious attention.
Trust Your Gut (Ultimately): You are the author. While beta feedback is crucial, you don’t have to implement every suggestion. It’s your story. Weigh the advice against your artistic vision.
Keep Perspective: Beta readers are giving you their time and opinion for free (usually). Their goal is to help you make your book better.
Beta readers are an invaluable part of the writing journey, bridging the gap between your solitary creation and the wider world of readers. By proactively seeking them out and approaching their feedback with an open mind, you set your manuscript up for its best possible chance of success. Happy hunting, and happy revising!
In a day of going over old ground and making it new again, I have revisited Zoe’s residence in Paris at the time John called, and found it empty, except for some kid who was all ‘get lost or suffer the consequences.’
Who is he? We flesh out that story and how it relates to Zoe and those early days.
Similarly, I’m still not happy with how Worthington discovers Zoe; this is going to need some more work and definitely a rewrite.
In fact, I might have to revisit his whole appearance in the story and make it a little less bombastic and a little more subdued, seething with anger.
The whole Marseilles episode is good; it’s just the end and this discovery of who is behind Zoe’s abduction that needs a little work. This is where we sow the enigmatic seeds of Romanov and his purpose for wanting Zoe, if it is not revenge, as it is assumed.
Similarly, that whole thing with the Russian Minister and Anton needs a lot more work because there appears to be a connection between him and Romanov, but there’s not. This is just Olga leaning on her connections to get a result.
Then Zoe takes off to find Romanov, or is it those seeking revenge? It’s not quite clear, and it leaves John to contemplate his future. Perhaps a piece here between them that sets the tone for the relationship over the coming months would be good, and the trigger that sets John off on a quest to find her.
His excuses at the moment are wishy-washy at best.
Phew!!! Never knew self-criticism could be so harsh!
Discover Helsinki Beyond the Usual: 5 Hidden Gems to Explore
Helsinki, the vibrant capital of Finland, is renowned for its architectural splendour, vibrant art scene, and serene access to the archipelago. Yet, beyond the iconic Senate Square and the UNESCO-listed Suomenlinna, there’s a trove of offbeat experiences waiting to be uncovered. If you’re eager to venture off the well-trodden path, here are five lesser-known treasures to add to your Helsinki itinerary.
1. Stroll Through the Helsinki Botanical Garden (Kaisaniemi)
Tucked near the parliament building in Kaisaniemi, this haven of greenery offers a tranquil escape from the city’s hustle. Established in 1855, the garden spans 5.6 hectares and features a glasshouse housing over 12,000 plant species from around the world. In summer, the lush herb garden and seasonal flowerbeds are a riot of colour, while autumn brings fiery foliage. A peaceful walk here is the perfect way to appreciate Helsinki’s natural beauty without the crowds.
Pro Tip: Combine your visit with a constitutional at the adjacent Parliament Square (Kanssakuntori) for a slice of Helsinki’s political and ecological charm.
2. Unwind on Ulvila Cathedral Island
Just a short bus and ferry ride from central Helsinki lies Ulvila, a quiet island known for its historic cathedral and serene atmosphere. Once the favoured retreat of Finnish presidents, this hidden gem is accessible via a scenic 40-minute ferry ride. Explore the 17th-century Ulvila Church, stroll through its secluded cemetery, or simply soak in the views of the surrounding archipelago. With no restaurants or shops, it’s a spot to disconnect and reconnect with nature.
Pro Tip: Pack a picnic to enjoy on the island’s rocky shoreline, where the Baltic Sea shimmers under the midnight sun in summer.
3. Shop for Local Crafts at the Kadu Market
Nestled in Helsinki’s Design District (Kadu), the Kadu Market is a weekly pop-up paradise for design lovers. Held every Saturday in the summer and on weekends during winter, this market showcases handmade crafts, vintage finds, and locally sourced Nordic products. From organic skincare to handcrafted jewellery, it’s a vibrant window into Helsinki’s creative community.
Pro Tip: Stay afterwards to explore Kadu’s boutique shops and cafés, like the cozy Apartment 42 café, known for its Instagram-worthy sundaes.
4. Get Lost in the Kiasma Museum of Contemporary Art
Helsinki’s modern art scene is on full display at Kiasma, a striking building designed by American architect Steven Holl. The museum’s ever-changing exhibits blend international and Finnish art, often pushing boundaries with avant-garde installations. Its unique, glass-clad structure and spiral layout make it a visual treat, while the free guided tours (in multiple languages) offer deeper insights into the works.
Pro Tip: Visit during the museum’s opening hours (weekends often have extended hours) to fully absorb the atmosphere without the weekday rush.
5. Picnic in Rastila Park, Helsinki’s Oldest Public Park
Founded in 1838, Rastila Park is a green oasis nestled between the Baltic Sea and Helsinki’s city centre. This lesser-known park is ideal for solo walks, family outings, or a quiet picnic on its grassy lawns. The park’s modest charm lies in its simplicity—think ancient trees, children playing on the playground, and the distant hum of the city. It’s a rare spot where Helsinki’s past and present coexist harmoniously.
Pro Tip: Pair your visit with a stop at Kahvila Rastila, a nearby café serving excellent Nordic-inspired dishes.
Final Thoughts
While Helsinki’s landmarks are undeniably captivating, these hidden spots offer a more intimate and personal experience of the city. Whether you’re wandering through a historic island, discovering modern art, or simply relaxing in nature, these destinations showcase Helsinki’s diversity and depth. Pack your curiosity, embrace the unexpected, and let the road less travelled reveal itself.
Ready to explore Helsinki beyond the usual? These five spots are waiting to become your favourite stories.
In the first or second instance of the word Sore, we all know this malady can sometimes fester into something a lot worse.
Or that a person could be a sore loser
Or after spending an hour on the obstacle course, they come off very sore and sorry. I never quite understood why they should be sorry because no one ever apologises to an inanimate object. Or do they?
Or perhaps he was sore at his friend for not telling him the truth.
Then, there’s another meaning, saw, which can mean the past tense of seeing, that is, I saw them down by the pool.
I could also use a saw, you know, that thing that cuts through wood, steel, plastic, almost anything. And yes, it’s possible someone might actually saw through a loaf of bread.
There are hand saws, electric saws, band saws, coping saws, and even a bread knife, all of these have one thing in common, a serrated edge with teeth of different sizes, designed to cut, smoothly or roughly depending on the size.
Add it to bones, and you have Captain Kirk’s description of his medical officer on the Enterprise. I’m not sure any doctor would like to be addressed as saw-bones.
But then, confusingly in the way only English can do, there’s another word that sounds exactly the same, soar
This, of course, means hovering up there in the heavens, with or without propulsion or oxygen.
Yes, it’s difficult to soar with eagles when you work with turkeys. I’ve always liked this expression though most of the time people don’t quite understand what it means.
Discovering the Hidden Gems of Capri: 5 Off-the-Beaten-Path Experiences
Capri, the picturesque Italian island in the Bay of Naples, is a popular destination for travellers seeking stunning natural beauty, rich history, and luxurious amenities. While many visitors flock to the island’s famous Blue Grotto and bustling town centre, there’s more to Capri than meets the eye. For those willing to venture off the beaten path, the island offers a treasure trove of unique experiences waiting to be uncovered. In this blog post, we’ll explore the top five alternative things to do in Capri, taking you on a journey to discover the island’s lesser-known charms.
1. Hike the Sentiero dei Fortini: A Scenic Trail with Breathtaking Views
For nature lovers and hiking enthusiasts, the Sentiero dei Fortini trail is a must-visit attraction. This scenic path winds its way along the island’s rugged coastline, offering breathtaking views of the Mediterranean Sea and the surrounding landscape. The trail is dotted with historic fortifications, including the 19th-century Fortini, which provide a glimpse into Capri’s fascinating military past. As you hike, keep an eye out for the island’s unique flora and fauna, including the rare Capri bee orchid.
2. Visit the Certosa di San Giacomo: A Serene Oasis in the Heart of Capri
Tucked away in a quiet corner of the island, the Certosa di San Giacomo is a 14th-century monastery that exudes peace and tranquillity. This former Carthusian monastery is now a museum, showcasing an impressive collection of art and artifacts, including works by local artists and stunning examples of medieval architecture. The monastery’s beautifully manicured gardens and tranquil courtyards provide a serene oasis, perfect for escaping the hustle and bustle of Capri’s town centre.
3. Explore the Grotta di Matermania: A Natural Wonder with Ancient History
While the Blue Grotto is undoubtedly one of Capri’s most famous attractions, the Grotta di Matermania is a lesser-known natural wonder that’s equally impressive. This ancient Roman cave is filled with stunning rock formations, crystal-clear waters, and a unique array of marine life. According to legend, the grotto was once a sacred place of worship, and its mystical atmosphere is still palpable today. Visit the Grotta di Matermania for an unforgettable experience that combines natural beauty with ancient history.
4. Discover the Villa Jovis: A Ruined Roman Palace with a Rich History
Perched on a hilltop overlooking the Bay of Naples, the Villa Jovis is a ruined Roman palace that’s steeped in history and intrigue. Built in the 1st century AD, this ancient villa was once the summer residence of the Roman Emperor Tiberius, and its impressive remains offer a fascinating glimpse into the island’s imperial past. As you explore the villa’s crumbling ruins, keep an eye out for the stunning views of the surrounding landscape and the sparkling Mediterranean Sea.
5. Enjoy a Sunset at the Punta Carena Lighthouse: A Breathtaking View of the Sea
For a truly unforgettable experience, head to the Punta Carena Lighthouse, located on the island’s southern coast. This picturesque lighthouse is one of the oldest on the Amalfi Coast, and its stunning views of the Mediterranean Sea are simply breathtaking. Watch the sunset from the lighthouse’s scenic viewpoint, and marvel at the kaleidoscope of colours that dance across the sky. As the stars begin to twinkle, the lighthouse’s tranquil atmosphere is the perfect place to unwind and reflect on your Capri adventure.
In conclusion, Capri is more than just a popular tourist destination – it’s an island with a rich history, stunning natural beauty, and a wealth of hidden gems waiting to be discovered. By venturing off the beaten path and exploring the island’s lesser-known attractions, you’ll experience the authentic charm of Capri and create memories that will last a lifetime. So why not take the road less travelled and discover the real Capri?
John Pennington’s life is in the doldrums. Looking for new opportunities and prevaricating about getting married, the only joy on the horizon was an upcoming visit to his grandmother in Sorrento, Italy.
Suddenly, he is left at the check-in counter with a message on his phone telling him the marriage is off, and the relationship is over.
If only he hadn’t promised a friend he would do a favour for him in Rome.
At the first stop, Geneva, he has a chance encounter with Zoe, an intriguing woman who captures his imagination from the moment she boards the Savoire, and his life ventures into uncharted territory in more ways than one.
That ‘favour’ for his friend suddenly becomes a life-changing event, and when Zoe, the woman who he knows is too good to be true, reappears, danger and death follow.
Shot at, lied to, seduced, and drawn into a world where nothing is what it seems, John is dragged into an adrenaline-charged undertaking, where he may have been wiser to stay with the ‘devil you know’ rather than opt for the ‘devil you don’t’.
In a day of going over old ground and making it new again, I have revisited Zoe’s residence in Paris at the time John called, and found it empty, except for some kid who was all ‘get lost or suffer the consequences.’
Who is he? We flesh out that story and how it relates to Zoe and those early days.
Similarly, I’m still not happy with how Worthington discovers Zoe; this is going to need some more work and definitely a rewrite.
In fact, I might have to revisit his whole appearance in the story and make it a little less bombastic and a little more subdued, seething with anger.
The whole Marseilles episode is good; it’s just the end and this discovery of who is behind Zoe’s abduction that needs a little work. This is where we sow the enigmatic seeds of Romanov and his purpose for wanting Zoe, if it is not revenge, as it is assumed.
Similarly, that whole thing with the Russian Minister and Anton needs a lot more work because there appears to be a connection between him and Romanov, but there’s not. This is just Olga leaning on her connections to get a result.
Then Zoe takes off to find Romanov, or is it those seeking revenge? It’s not quite clear, and it leaves John to contemplate his future. Perhaps a piece here between them that sets the tone for the relationship over the coming months would be good, and the trigger that sets John off on a quest to find her.
His excuses at the moment are wishy-washy at best.
Phew!!! Never knew self-criticism could be so harsh!
It was the first time in almost a week that I made the short walk to the cafe alone. It was early, and the chill of the morning was still in the air. In summer, it was the best time of the day. When Susan came with me, it was usually much later, when the day was much warmer and less tolerable.
On the morning of the third day of her visit, Susan said she was missing the hustle and bustle of London, and by the end of the fourth she said, in not so many words, she was over being away from ‘civilisation’. This was a side of her I had not seen before, and it surprised me.
She hadn’t complained, but it was making her irritable. The Susan that morning was vastly different to the Susan on the first day. So much, I thought, for her wanting to ‘reconnect’, the word she had used as the reason for coming to Greve unannounced.
It was also the first morning I had time to reflect on her visit and what my feelings were towards her. It was the reason I’d come to Greve: to soak up the peace and quiet and think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
I sat in my usual corner. Maria, one of two waitresses, came out, stopped, and there was no mistaking the relief in her manner. There was an air of tension between Susan and Maria I didn’t understand, and it seemed to emanate from Susan rather than the other way around. I could understand her attitude if it was towards Alisha, but not Maria. All she did was serve coffee and cake.
When Maria recovered from the momentary surprise, she said, smiling, “You are by yourself?” She gave a quick glance in the direction of my villa, just to be sure.
“I am this morning. I’m afraid the heat, for one who is not used to it, can be quite debilitating. I’m also afraid it has had a bad effect on her manners, for which I apologise. I cannot explain why she has been so rude to you.”
“You do not have to apologise for her, David, but it is of no consequence to me. I have had a lot worse. I think she is simply jealous.”
It had crossed my mind, but there was no reason for her to be. “Why?”
“She is a woman, I am a woman, she thinks because you and I are friends, there is something between us.”
It made sense, even if it was not true. “Perhaps if I explained…”
Maria shook her head. “If there is a hole in the boat, you should not keep bailing but try to plug the hole. My grandfather had many expressions, David. If I may give you one piece of advice, as much as it is none of my business, you need to make your feelings known, and if they are not as they once were, and I think they are not, you need to tell her. Before she goes home.”
Interesting advice. Not only a purveyor of excellent coffee, but Maria was also a psychiatrist who had astutely worked out my dilemma. What was that expression, ‘not just a pretty face’?
“Is she leaving soon?” I asked, thinking Maria knew more about Susan’s movements than I did.
“You would disappoint me if you had not suspected as much. Susan was having coffee and talking to someone in her office on a cell phone. It was an intense conversation. I should not eavesdrop, but she said being here was like being stuck in hell. It is a pity she does not share your love for our little piece of paradise, is it not?”
“It is indeed. And you’re right. She said she didn’t have a phone, but I know she has one. She just doesn’t value the idea of getting away from the office. Perhaps her role doesn’t afford her that luxury.”
And perhaps Alisha was right about Maria, that I should be more careful. She had liked Maria the moment she saw her. We had sat at this very table, the first day I arrived. I would have travelled alone, but Prendergast, my old boss, liked to know where ex-employees of the Department were, and what they were doing.
She sighed. “I am glad I am just a waitress. Your usual coffee and cake?”
“Yes, please.”
Several months had passed since we had rescued Susan from her despotic father; she had recovered faster than we had thought, and settled into her role as the new Lady Featherington, though she preferred not to use that title, but go by the name of Lady Susan Cheney.
I didn’t get to be a Lord, or have any title, not that I was expecting one. What I had expected was that Susan, once she found her footing as head of what seemed to be a commercial empire, would not have time for details like husbands, particularly when our agreement made before the wedding gave either of us the right to end it.
There was a moment when I visited her recovering in the hospital, where I was going to give her the out, but I didn’t, and she had not invoked it. We were still married, just not living together.
This visit was one where she wanted to ‘reconnect’ as she called it, and invite me to come home with her. She saw no reason why we could not resume our relationship, conveniently forgetting she indirectly had me arrested for her murder, charges both her mother and Lucy vigorously pursued, and had the clone not returned to save me, I might still be in jail.
It was not something I would forgive or forget any time soon.
There were other reasons why I was reluctant to stay with her, like forgetting small details, an irregularity in her character I found odd. She looked the same, she sounded the same, she basically acted the same, but my mind was telling me something was not right. It was not the Susan I first met, even allowing for the ordeal she had been subjected to.
But, despite those misgivings, there was no question in my mind that I still loved her, and her clandestine arrival had brought back all those feelings. But as the days passed, I began to get the impression my feelings were one-sided and she was just going through the motions.
Which brought me to the last argument, earlier, where I said if I went with her, it would be business meetings, social obligations, and quite simply her ‘celebrity’ status that would keep us apart. I reminded her that I had said from the outset I didn’t like the idea of being in the spotlight, and when I reiterated it, she simply brushed it off as just part of the job, adding rather strangely that I always looked good in a suit. The flippancy of that comment was the last straw, and I left before I said something I would regret.
I knew I was not a priority. Maybe somewhere inside me, I had wanted to be a priority, and I was disappointed when I was not.
And finally, there was Alisha. Susan, at the height of the argument, had intimated she believed I had an affair with her, but that elephant was always in the room whenever Alisha was around. It was no surprise when I learned Susan had asked Prendergast to reassign her to other duties.
At least I knew what my feelings for Alisha were, and there were times when I had to remember she was persona non grata. Perhaps that was why Susan had her banished, but, again, a small detail; jealousy was not one of Susan’s traits when I first knew her.
Perhaps it was time to set Susan free.
When I swung around to look in the direction of the lane where my villa was, I saw Susan. She was formally dressed, not in her ‘tourist’ clothes, which she had bought from one of the local clothing stores. We had fun that day, shopping for clothes, a chore I’d always hated. It had been followed by a leisurely lunch, lots of wine and soul searching.
It was the reason why I sat in this corner; old habits die hard. I could see trouble coming from all directions, not that Susan was trouble or at least I hoped not, but it allowed me the time to watch her walking towards the cafe in what appeared to be short, angry steps; perhaps the culmination of the heat wave and our last argument.
She glared at me as she sat, dropping her bag beside her on the ground, where I could see the cell phone sitting on top. She followed my glance down, and then she looked unrepentant back at me.
Maria came back at the exact moment she was going to speak. I noticed Maria hesitate for a second when she saw Susan, then put her smile in place to deliver my coffee.
Neither spoke nor looked at each other. I said, “Susan will have what I’m having, thanks.”
Maria nodded and left.
“Now,” I said, leaning back in my seat, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why you didn’t tell me about the phone, but that first time you disappeared, I’d guessed you needed to keep in touch with your business interests. I thought it somewhat unwisethat you should come out when the board of one of your companies was trying to remove you, because of what was it, an unexplained absence? All you had to do was tell me there were problems and you needed to remain at home to resolve them.”
My comment elicited a sideways look, with a touch of surprise.
“It was unfortunate timing on their behalf, and I didn’t want you to think everything else was more important than us. There were issues before I came, and I thought the people at home would be able to manage without me for at least a week, but I was wrong.”
“Why come at all. A phone call would have sufficed.”
“I had to see you, talk to you. At least we have had a chance to do that. I’m sorry about yesterday. I once told you I would not become my mother, but I’m afraid I sounded just like her. I misjudged just how much this role would affect me, and truly, I’m sorry.”
An apology was the last thing I expected.
“You have a lot of work to do catching up after being away, and of course, in replacing your mother and gaining the requisite respect as the new Lady Featherington. I think it would be for the best if I were not another distraction. We have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves when you get past all these teething issues.”
“You’re not coming with me?” She sounded disappointed.
“I think it would be for the best if I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“It should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. You are so much better doing your job without me. I told your mother once that when the time came I would not like the responsibilities of being your husband. Now that I have seen what it could possibly entail, I like it even less. You might also want to reconsider our arrangement, after all, we only had a marriage of convenience, and now that those obligations have been fulfilled, we both have the option of terminating it. I won’t make things difficult for you if that’s what you want.”
It was yet another anomaly, I thought; she should look distressed, and I would raise the matter of that arrangement. Perhaps she had forgotten the finer points. I, on the other hand, had always known we would not last forever. The perplexed expression, to me, was a sign she might have forgotten.
Then, her expression changed. “Is that what you want?”
“I wasn’t madly in love with you when we made that arrangement, so it was easy to agree to your terms, but inexplicably, since then, my feelings for you changed, and I would be sad if we parted ways. But the truth is, I can’t see how this is going to work.”
“In saying that, do you think I don’t care for you?”
That was exactly what I was thinking, but I wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud. “You spent a lot of time finding new ways to make my life miserable, Susan. You and that wretched friend of yours, Lucy. While your attitude improved after we were married, that was because you were going to use me when you went to see your father, and then almost let me go to prison for your murder.”
“I had nothing to do with that, other than to leave, and I didn’t agree with Lucy that you should be made responsible for my disappearance. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my mother. She hated you; Lucy didn’t understand you, and Millie told me I was stupid for not loving you in return, and she was right. Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? You made it impossible not to fall in love with you, and it nearly changed my mind about everything I’d been planning so meticulously. But perhaps there was a more subliminal reason why I did because after I left, I wanted to believe, if anything went wrong, you would come and find me.”
“How could you possibly know that I’d even consider doing something like that, given what you knew about me?”
“Prendergast made a passing comment when my mother asked him about you; he told us you were very good at finding people and even better at fixing problems.”
“And yet here we are, one argument away from ending it.”
I could see Maria hovering, waiting for the right moment to deliver her coffee, then go back and find Gianna, the café owner, instead. Gianna was more abrupt and, for that reason, was rarely seen serving the customers. Today, she was particularly cantankerous, banging the cake dish on the table and frowning at Susan before returning to her kitchen. Gianna didn’t like Susan either.
Behind me, I heard a car stop, and when she looked up, I knew it was for her. She had arrived with nothing, and she was leaving with nothing.
She stood. “Last chance.”
“Forever?”
She hesitated and then shook away the look of annoyance on her face. “Of course not. I wanted you to come back with me so we could continue working on our relationship. I agree there are problems, but it’s nothing we can’t resolve if we try.”
I had been trying. “It’s too soon for both of us, Susan. I need to be able to trust you, and given the circumstances, and all that water under the bridge, I’m not sure if I can yet.”
She frowned at me. “As you wish.” She took an envelope out of her bag and put it on the table. “When you are ready, it’s an open ticket home. Please make it sooner rather than later. Despite what you think of me, I have missed you, and I have no intention of ending it between us.”
That said, she glared at me for a minute, shook her head, then walked to the car. I watched her get in and the car drive slowly away.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 