Indicator of a Curse

by Lesley A Meldrum

  Despite her potential, he had noticed for a girl who thrived in financial business she had showed no interest in advancing her career. Greg found this frustrating as he knew she could work for NASA or Wall Street if she aspired to. She didn’t have to settle.

  Going by his observations, she had great leadership qualities. She worked well as a team player and had great people skills. She was organised and followed instructions as well as she gave them. On top of everything, she understood everything about the trade.

  No matter what had happened in these past few months, he was relieved to see a shift in her attitude. She was considering buying a house and was saving money like there was no tomorrow. She had always been good at managing her finances, but now she had purpose.

  Greg found her newfound interest in job advancement welcoming. He had no qualms about aiding her career because he believed it was deserved. His staff had seen for themselves. He, as their manager, would encourage any of his staff where he saw potential. His daughter was no exception.

  She had been asking him questions of late about the job areas in which she might excel. He felt honoured. It had been a long while since she last sought him out for advice.

  He had always been aware of the underlying reason for Sarah’s laxity. She had never bothered to strive for more because she had always thought her life would end at the age of twenty-six. She had this silly notion she was going to die in a fire and had suffered night terrors ever since she was little. The same recurring nightmare convinced her it was her fate.

  Unbeknownst to their daughter, Greg and Faye were aware Sarah had a will already written out, which had reinforced to them how convinced she was of the notion.

  She was now twenty-six and nothing had happened so far. Greg couldn’t wait to get to the next year because he wanted his daughter to realise her life would go on. He hoped turning twenty-seven would help put her fears behind her for good.

  Going by her actions as of late, she was already laying her concerns to rest.

  A job offer had recently come up for Sarah. If she took it, she would be promoted to the position of their Financial Analyst. At this point in her career, she was confident enough to take the promotion.

  To be accepted for the position she would need a bachelor’s degree in either financing, accounting, or economics. She had all three. Two of the degrees she had done from home through online correspondence, and for financing she had lived on campus straight out of high school. She had always planned to work in a bank like her dad.

  As soon as she saw the open position, she was knocking on her father’s office door. She had been browsing the adverts in her morning break.

  ‘Yes, Sarah,’ said Greg. ‘Come in, sweetie.’

  Sarah walked in and took a seat. She was holding a print copy in her hand. ‘Dad, have you seen this?’

  He took the copy and read it. ‘Yes. I’m the one who advertised it. Jonesy is leaving us soon. He’s proposed to his American girlfriend and is moving overseas.’

  ‘How come you didn’t tell me? Don’t you think I have the potential to go for the position?’

  ‘Of course, I do. I believe you’re smart enough to run for prime minister, you know that. You’ve just never showed any interest in advancing. I didn’t think you’d care.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got some news for you. I am interested in filling in for the position. Would you mind if I did?’

  Greg Larson sat stock still. His eyes widened. A sense of pride came over him. ‘Of course, I don’t mind. I’m delighted. I must say though, your new drive has taken me by surprise.’

  ‘I’m ready for the next experience. Dad, in your honest opinion, do you think I would be capable? I feel I am.’

  He didn’t have to think his answer through. ‘Sarah, you have all the credentials and experience I am looking for. You certainly have the potential. If you do apply for the job, it is yours. The staff won’t think I gave you the position out of favouritism. They all know you are the best person for the job.’

  With that said, Sarah busied herself with writing her application in her lunch break.

  Sarah landed the promotion. She was to start her new position straight after her annual leave.

  In the meantime, she set to finding her ideal home, which was her next step towards building a future for herself. She chose a newly built house in the Mayfair Ridge area.

  ‘As you can see, Miss Larson, the area is clean and tidy. You’ll like the neighbourhood. It’s quiet. There are no troublemakers around here and there’ve been no reports of crime to date. Being a local, you’ll be aware that the area is quite a new establishment to Emerald.’

  The real estate agent was a familiar face. Sarah had gone to school with her children. One of them had been in her class.

  Having grown up in Emerald, Sarah knew the Mayfair Ridge area was one of the later establishments. Emerald had been in its boom when Mayfair was first settled. Not long after, the town peaked when the mining industry slowed down. Emerald, being predominantly a mining town, no longer reaped in prosperity when the mine’s productiveness dropped. The prices of houses fell flat and the rent became dirt cheap.

  People lost their jobs, resulting in many of the townsfolk packing up and leaving.

  Sarah, a born and bred local, was going nowhere. There was no other place she wanted to be. This was her home.

  Sarah stood on the footpath with the real estate lady, looking around at the new buildings. The suburb was new, with its development having started in 2006.

  Sarah and the real estate agent had only a moment ago hopped out of their individual cars and met up on the thick patch of lawn of the house Sarah was interested in.

  ‘As a kid, I remember this place being all bushland,’ Sarah reminisced. ‘There were only a couple of houses and an old caravan park over that way.’ Sarah looked afield and pointed. ‘I think it was called The Blue Gum.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ agreed the lady, nodding her head. ‘That area is called the Blue Gum House Estate, after the old caravan park.’

  ‘I used to visit a friend from school here. We’d take a short cut into town via an old dirt road at the back of the park. It was a deserted road and overgrown. Apparently, it was part of the old road to Springsure.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t tell you that,’ the lady answered. ‘Perhaps one of the old folk would know. I’m not a local, to be honest. My husband moved here from Melbourne.’

  Sarah’s eyebrows rose a little in surprise. ‘That must have been a real culture shock.’

  ‘Oh, it was,’ replied the agent. ‘We had a choice of either Mt. Isa or Emerald.’

  ‘Mt. Isa? Fifty degrees heat out that way.’

  ‘Yes, and remote.’ The lady cringed at the thought. ‘I heard there are too many flies out that way. Anyhow, we chose Emerald as the better option. Originally, we had plans of moving back to Melbourne, but after our five-year contract was up we had come to really like the place, so we stayed. Head office was happy for us to stay on.’ She smiled. ‘We’ve made some good friends here. Emerald is such a friendly town.’

  ‘I agree, the people around here are from all walks of life and all get along. It’s a good place to live.’ Sarah was rather patriotic about her hometown. ‘I might actually research the history of Emerald one day, it would be interesting.’

  ‘It certainly would.’

  ‘And right now, it would be helpful to know all the flood areas, especially if I’m buying a house.’

  Emerald had flooded twice in the past decade. Many houses had gone under, leaving areas stranded. The Mayfair Ridge area had been blocked from the main part of the town, which made it an inconvenient spot to buy a house. The two routes leading into town had been blocked due to the bridges being underwater, but at least the houses didn’t go under.

  As the floods were such a recent event, which devastated many house owners and tenants alike, the real estate agent preferred to stay away from the topic. Her trade was to sell houses, no matter what
area.

  ‘And just look,’ the agent pitched to Sarah, returning to business mode. ‘It’s a five to ten minute walk from the Botanical Gardens. You only have to step out of your front door and head straight down to the best scenic walk in town.’

  The gardens were certainly a bonus Sarah was keen on. The park was starting to thrive again after the floods.

  ‘And talking about floods, you don’t have to cross the bridge during flood season. You have all the shops and schools available over this side now.’

  ‘I’ll still need to cross the bridge to get to work though,’ Sarah kindly reminded the agent.

  The lady was thrown for a moment but was quick to regain her composure. ‘I heard the council will be building a new bridge on the Riverview side. They will be making it higher so that the traffic can avoid the floods. Don’t quote me on that, though. It could be just talk. Also, you could take the old road that leads to the dam. It would take longer, but if the road isn’t blocked, it would get you to the other side of town. And of course, if that fails, then you’re stuck.’

  Finally, the woman was willing to speak facts, thought Sarah.

  Sarah knew there were a few hiccups that came with living in this area, but she had already made up her mind. She decided before meeting with the agent she was going to live in Mayfair Ridge. She reasoned the floods were a rare occasion. At least the Mayfair houses did not go underwater on those occasions. Plus, there were rescue boats and helicopters available if any emergencies arose. As an alternative, she could work from home.

  The real estate agent took her through the house. The paint smelled fresh and everything looked new. Sarah loved the massive rooms.

  The house had three bedrooms. She had been given a choice of the five-bedroom house two doors down, but this being her first home she decided she would settle for less. With the small study, it could pass as a four-bedroom house anyway.

  The bathroom was huge. Sarah was thankful to find the toilet was separate. She didn’t want her guests and family fighting for the bathroom. She wasn’t concerned for herself as the main bedroom came with an ensuite.

  The well-designed kitchen and dining area, along with the separate lounge room, sold the house for Sarah.

  The women came out of the house and climbed into their separate vehicles. Sarah followed the lady back to her office to start the paperwork.

  Before the month was up, Sarah was settled in her new home in Mayfair Ridge. She was ready to drop after all the moving. For the next few days she wanted to chill, pick up a book, and lounge around, while basking in her new surroundings.

  Before going back to work she planned to invite her family and friends over for a meal, starting with her parents on Wednesday. She then planned to end the week with a Sunday house-warming barbecue.

  She found the new area pleasant enough. The house had a beautiful garden she intended to add to. The street was quiet and the neighbours were friendly. They preferred to keep to themselves, which she was glad for as she had a career to focus on.

  She had already started her walks through the Botanical Gardens. Walking was a major part of her lifestyle, especially since she had started working at the bank after graduating. During work days, she needed the brisk walk in the afternoons to clear her head of figures.

  On Sunday, the day before she was to start back at work, Sarah successfully hosted her first barbecue luncheon. When everyone else left, her best friend Emily stayed. They chatted for hours before Emily decided she better go home and put some dinner on the table for her poor starving family.

  Standing outside, waving goodbye to Emily, Sarah decided it was a good moment to water the garden. Her tap was already set up to a drip system, but the outdoor breeze felt nice on her skin.

  Sarah was hosing along her fence line, the sun slowly slipping away, when she heard her neighbour’s car turn and creep up his driveway. She had never met him before. His house had been empty since she had moved in. According to the real estate agent, he was a miner who did fly-in, fly-out. His vehicle was a white-coloured utility that miners were usually seen driving around in.

  Sarah ducked her head and went back to focusing on her plants. She watched the ground thirst for water. When it had its fill, the water level rose and sat atop of the soaked patch of mulch and dirt.

  She heard the vehicle come to a halt. Looking up, she spied a young man casually jumping out of his vehicle. He grabbed his coat and lunchbox, before slamming the door. The poor man looked fatigued, in need of his days off. He looked a little older than Sarah. She failed to recall him from her school days. If he was a local, he had certainly not attended her school.

  The man didn’t acknowledge she was there.

  He started to walk up his driveway, half dazed, when he registered the sound of a hose spraying along his fence line. He looked across to see his new neighbour for the first time.

  Sarah felt his gaze instantly. Their eyes met.

  ‘Hi, mate,’ he said casually. He was quietly spoken.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied at the same volume. Even with the daylight fading, she noticed how brightly coloured his eyes were.

  ‘Troy Davis,’ he said, introducing himself.

  ‘Sarah Larson.’

  ‘Good to meet ya,’ he said. ‘Don’t mean to be rude, but I’ll catch up with you another time. I’ve just come off the night shift. I’ll be seeing you around, hun.’ He walked off.

  ‘See ya,’ she called as he marched off through his garage and disappeared behind a door. His house was similar to hers, only varying a little in size and structure. The neighbourhood houses all looked pretty much the same because the area was mainly contracted to the one home kit agent.

  Sarah finished her hosing by moonlight aided by the streetlights.

  After their first encounter, Sarah did not see a great deal of her neighbour. Whenever they crossed paths in their driveways, as their busy schedules allowed it, they would have a quick exchange and go on their way.

  One day, when she was on her way to work, he was packed to go fishing—something he did a lot of on his days off. On this particular encounter, he was looking more exhausted than usual and truly deserving of a few days off for fishing. Her neighbour, being a shift worker and doing such long hours, was usually coming home shattered, especially from night shifts.

  To a degree, Sarah could empathise with him. At the end of each week she was pretty shattered herself. Her new role at work was mentally draining. It was midweek and she was starting to feel the hump.

  ‘G’day sweetheart, how’s work?’ Troy asked. She was walking to her car dressed in her work suit.

  ‘Good, Troy. How was work for you?’

  ‘Ask me at the end of the week. I’m exhausted right now. I came off the night shift.’

  ‘You look exhausted. I’d be turning the phone off and getting some good sleep if I was you.’

  ‘I intend to. Thanks for caring, mum. Have a good day.’

  Sarah looked at him sheepishly. She was acting like his caretaker. ‘Sorry, Troy. I’m just a bit concerned. You have a good day too.’ She climbed into her car and reversed out of her driveway. Through her side window she watched Troy open his door and enter his house. She took off as he disappeared.

  Over a course of five months, their rare meetings developed into a neighbourly friendship. They had come to know each other enough to ascertain they clicked.

  Sarah dreamt about Troy for the first few nights after she met him, but the dreams phased out after witnessing a lady visit him out of the blue. She was an attractive woman. Sarah had no idea where her jealousy arose from.

  She tried not to spy on them, but she couldn’t help but notice the lady left after three in the morning one time. What are they doing, she wondered, who is she to Troy?

  Sarah had never felt so deflated or confused. There was nothing between her and her neighbour.

  The next day, when Sarah and Troy crossed paths in their driveways, Troy mentioned how he and his friend had watched movi
es all day, right up until the middle of the night. He found it amusing, but Sarah failed to see the humour in his story.

  To rid herself of her Troy obsession, she bogged herself down in paperwork. She busied herself doing her own things. She joined the gym, started meditation classes, frequented the town pool, and caught up with her friends and family.

  She didn’t need a man to obsess over. Especially not an attached man.

  After seven months living in her own home, a cold snap hit. The chill was particularly odd at this time of the year as it was Emerald’s hottest season. The incessant rain had brought on a cold, windy night.

  Her best friend Emily had planned to stay overnight with her. Emily’s husband was away for work and her two small children were spending the weekend with their grandparents.

  While Sarah waited for Emily to show up, Sarah made a warm drink of milo and grabbed her tablet before settling onto the couch. She quickly looked online at dating services; Tinder was the go these days.

  When she went into the site, she typed in all the details she was looking for, taking her time to view all the men that came up on the screen. She chose men close to her own age, preferring them a few years older. She liked them taller, at least one hundred and eighty centimetres. She didn’t care what eye or hair colour they had.

  She didn’t want alcoholics, party animals, or religious fanatics. She was looking for someone balanced and responsible. He had to be kind. Preferably, she wanted her potential partner to be good-looking, wanting at least to be attracted to him.

  There were undeniably some good-looking guys that took her fancy. Out of curiosity, she read some of their profiles. She had settled on one guy who looked remarkably similar to her neighbour Troy, and was studying his profile with a fine-tooth comb when she heard Emily’s voice coming through the door.

  ‘I’ve come bearing gifts,’ she said.