by Penny Kane
Polly sat up in the double guest bed and flicked through the property section of the paper, but nothing caught her eye. She was shocked at how high house prices had climbed in recent years. What if I can’t get a place in the city to be near Bren? She began to worry. Perhaps moving out to the country is the best option. Bren can drive, after all.
Polly slinked down farther in the bed and flung the paper onto the floor. When she’d finished her tea, her eyes fell on her book and then it hit her. “No!” She burst out laughing, but quickly remembered Brendan and slapped her hand across her mouth. She leant over, grabbed her copy of Happily Ever After? and opened it where she’d left off the last time. She hurriedly read a few paragraphs and there it was. Just as she’d written it, and almost exactly as it happened the night before. Sally was out with Bradley and some woman in the bar complimented her on her toy boy. Polly put the pillow over her face and laughed hysterically into it. No matter what she did, her life was actually mimicking her book! Surely no one could deny it now. She thought about phoning Jackie, but she’d think she was barmy and might even recommend she see a doctor. Polly certainly didn’t want that.
No, she decided that the best thing to do was to let it play out. Besides, she had far too much on her plate right now to worry about strange parallels between her book and her life. She needed to get people viewing the house and look for a place for herself. She thought about that for a while and decided she’d stay in the house until it was sold. Hopefully then she’d have found her own place and it could all happen as part of one chain.
Why does life have to be so complicated? she asked herself as she turned over, tucked the book under the other pillow, and tried to go back to sleep.
* * * *
Sleep was not hard to find and Polly went off quickly. It was Brendan who woke her three hours later.
“Mum, wake up.” He shook her and she tried to ignore him. “Mum, Abi just called and I’m going to meet up with her.”
Polly groaned and rolled over.
“Will you be all right if I spend the day in the city with Abi?”
Polly nodded and smiled at him. “I’m a grown woman. I think I can handle being left alone for a bit.”
Brendan shook his head. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah. You go and have a great time.”
He kissed her forehead, got off the bed, and headed for the door.
“And say hi to Abi for me.”
“Will do!”
Once the door was closed, Polly tried to sleep again, but her mind was awake. I know, I know! I have a thousand things to do, even if it is Sunday. She huffed as she reluctantly got out of bed. Slowly she made her way to the bathroom, showered, and readied herself for the day.
An hour later and furnished with a mug of coffee, Polly dared to plug the phones back in. She knew there’d be messages from Steve, and she was right. He was furious with her for hanging up. He was also mad at her for filing for divorce.
“What did you expect? That I’d be happy about you sleeping your way round the city?” she shouted at the voicemail.
Polly picked up the rest of the Sunday papers and took her coffee into the lounge, spitting abuse at Steve all the while. The papers were the same as usual for a Sunday; however, she did find a couple of interesting places for sale in Albany. “Not bad,” she muttered to herself. “I’d not be far from Bren there.” She grabbed a pen, circled them, and wondered what life would be like on her own and in a new place. “Well, it can’t be worse than it is now, can it? If I’m unhappy and alone, then I can fix it. If I’m unhappy because of my husband, then what can I do?” She realised that didn’t make much sense, but she had a feeling she had to make the decisions in her life and only she could decide if she was going to be happy or not. Being married to a philanderer who had a child with her best friend would not make her happy. The only way for her to get on with her life and to have any chance of happiness again was to get divorced from Steve, no matter how heartwrenching it was. Her eyes strayed to the photographs on the mantelpiece. There were photos of their wedding day, of Brendan as a baby and at school, of their lives together. Now it was all coming to an end. No matter how angry she was with Steve, the ending of that life tore at her heart. Polly grabbed a pillow, placed it over her face, and sobbed her heart out.
* * * *
Polly spent the afternoon on the Internet looking for cheap deals on flights and hotels. She needed a holiday. She giggled to herself when she thought about her book and remembered the Greek Adonis that Sally had a holiday romance with. The Decree Nisi would be through in a week or two, if Steve signed the papers. Then she’d be legally separated and morally free to embark on a romance with whomever she pleased. She determined that night she would read through those chapters and make sure she knew what was heading her way. “If my book is playing out in my life, then I want to be prepared and know what to expect!” She laughed at herself.
Polly realised she hadn’t actually unpacked her suitcases since she’d got back. They’d been shoved in the cupboard and forgotten about. “Oh gross, I bet they stink!” She went to the hall cupboard, grabbed the cases, and dragged them into the laundry room. “Great! Now, I have washing to do for both me and Bren.” She shook her head, pinned up her hair, and cracked on with the task, running the washer and dryer at the same time. She was glad she’d figured out which setting to put the dryer on so that she didn’t have to iron all those clothes.
Once the first load was in and washing, Polly went to the kitchen to make tea and hunt down some leftovers – she knew she had some from the other night’s takeaway. It was going to be a long and tedious evening.
* * * *
On Monday, Polly was up early and ready to get going. She breakfasted alone, as Brendan was still asleep, and wrote out a list of things to do that day.
First, she called Max and left a message. She told him Steve called and asked him to let her know on her mobile if there were any developments.
Secondly, she called Jackie and left a message. “Hi Jackie, it’s Polly. I’m going to take a break for a couple of weeks. Don’t worry; I’ll take my laptop and mobile. I’m thinking of going to Europe.” She hung up and grinned to herself.
Next, she needed to actually book the trip. However, the prices were high from New Zealand and when she thought about the long haul flight to get to Europe, she wanted to scream. So she decided that Australia’s Gold Coast was the perfect place. She could get lost in the crowds and enjoy the great beaches whilst people watching and perhaps start her next novel. The whole process took longer than she expected and there were signs of life coming from Brendan’s room by the time she booked her flights and reserved the hotel room. When he emerged from his room, Polly was ready to tackle the final part of her day’s plan – house hunting.
Brendan groaned at the thought and asked if he could stay at home. He was nursing a hangover.
“Ok, that’s fine. But I have one condition.”
Brendan looked at her with daggers. “What?”
“When that load of drying is done, you take it out and fold it properly for me.”
He groaned.
“Oh, and chuck in the next wash, hun!” she called as she grabbed her bag and keys and headed for the door.
“Mum, do I have to?” He moaned after her.
“Please!” She blew him a kiss on her way out of the door, and winked. “I know, I’m a terrible mum.”
Chapter Eight
The drive out to Albany in her silver Toyota Yaris was nice. Polly drove in the opposite direction to the morning traffic heading into Auckland City and her way was relatively clear. She pulled up early outside the first house and waited for the agent to arrive. He’d practically fallen over himself to offer her a viewing. So getting the viewings was easy – the hard part would be finding a place she liked and could afford to not only buy, but also live in.
Polly got out of the car and decided to have a little walk around. The area wasn’t too bad, bu
t it was a far cry from the house she now lived in. She fought the desire to cry. Finding a new place to live was such a depressing thing to do. Once Brendan graduated, she knew he’d want to move out into a place of his own. She couldn’t blame him, but the sense of loneliness was overwhelming.
Her depressing train of thought was broken as a car pulled up and an overly primped young man emerged from a Mercedes. Yep, he’s certainly the stereotypical real estate agent.
“Are you Mrs Lloyd?” He smiled and stretched out his hand to her.
Polly shook it. “Yes, and you must be Andrew Connor?” Do they really still make polyester suits like that?
“Have you been waiting long?” he asked as he opened his folder to retrieve the literature on the house.
“No, not at all. It gave me the chance to have a quick look around.”
“It’s a lovely area. Highly sought after, too.”
You would say that; you want me to buy the house. Polly smiled indulgently at the young man. “Shall we go inside?”
Once in the house, Polly was treated to a dark, dank, and lifeless interior. Her stomach knotted. Am I to live the rest of my life in a place like this? She shook her head. No bloody way!
As the agent led her around the rest of the house and into the shady garden, Polly’s resolve hardened. There was no way she could ever live in such a place. All she wanted to do was get the viewing over and done with as quickly as possible. But how was that possible with the Real Estate Agent of the Year prattling on about what a fantastic bargain the house was?
“…and as you can see, there’s plenty of room for all your grandchildren.”
Did he really say that? Did she look old enough to be a grandmother? Polly was glad the drongo had his back to her – she poked out her tongue at him but resisted the urge to slap his slimy, gelled head.
After another ten minutes of looking around the prison-like house, he led her outside to the drive again. As soon as the sun hit her face, Polly breathed an almost audible sigh of relief. How could a house in full sun be so dark?
She bit down the desire to tell him what she really thought. “Well, it’s certainly given me lots to think about.”
The young man grinned at her.
Oh, please don’t think that means I’m interested. “So, shall we see the next one?”
Grateful for the opportunity to get away from the man, Polly gladly agreed to follow him in her car. The next house was only a few kilometres away and she wanted to feel the sun on her face and breathe the warm air deeply after being in that property. She hoped she would like the second house better than the first.
Pulling up outside the second place, Polly felt more optimistic. It was a small bungalow with a very pretty garden. Its owners were obviously elderly. Polly thought it felt like coming home or visiting her nanna when she was young. The agent was talking on his mobile phone, so Polly had the chance to walk around the property. She had been surprised to see this one listed and wondered what was wrong with it.
She wandered a little along the left side of the property and looked towards the neighbour’s house, which was a comfortable distance away. And then she heard it – the possible reason for the house being so cheap. She jumped out of her skin and nearly ran back to her car. The neighbour owned a mastiff and it pounced at the fence and barked ferociously at her. She was no threat to it and neither was she an intruder, however, the dog didn’t know that.
As Polly made her way back to meet up with the agent, her pulse and breathing began to settle, but the dog continued to bark its intruder alert.
The agent at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. The neighbours have been asked to stop the dog behaving like that.” He raised his voice to be heard over the noise.
Polly’s face clearly indicated that the dog’s continued barking meant she wouldn’t be putting in an offer on the bungalow, whether she loved the inside or not.
“I can make some more enquiries for you. It’s a nuisance.”
“You’re telling me.” She yelled back. She looked back towards the neighbour’s fence where the dog could be seen barking at them. “I am a writer, Mr Connor. I cannot write under these conditions. No one could think at all with that racket going on.”
“I’ll call the local authority. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll even speak to the neighbours, if you’d like?”
“Just consider yourself lucky that I still want to see the inside. Normally that noise would put me off instantly.” She pursed her lips together and followed him up the path to the front door, praying that the house was insulated enough to block out the din.
As soon as she set foot in the hallway of the bungalow, not only was the sound of the barking shut out, but Polly felt as if she’d stepped back in time. The carpet was in good condition for an Axminster copy that was obviously decades old. The home smelled musty, and Polly wished they’d left the door open for a breath of fresh air. “How long has it been unoccupied?”
“The owners moved into a warden-controlled place about three months ago.”
Polly thought it was probably longer. The air was stale. To the left was the living-dining room. Polly was amazed at the size of the place. It certainly was larger than she expected. It had the original fireplace and instantly she imagined herself sitting in front of it during a chilly New Zealand winter. The room stretched from the front to the back of the property and Polly was drawn to look out the back windows. What she saw impressed her.
“They don’t make homes with yards that big anymore.” The agent stood next to her, looking pleased with himself.
Polly reluctantly had to admit the garden was large. If she planted bushes and trees along the border, maybe the dog wouldn’t see her. “We still have the issue of the dog to deal with.”
“You can’t even hear him inside.” He opened the window and the din flooded the room.
Polly raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t expect such old windows to be so effective.”
They walked into the kitchen and, although it was small, extremely dated, and orange, Polly felt she could live with it. That thought surprised her. She hadn’t expected to like a property so much, and so quickly. They moved on to the one single bedroom, two double-sized bedrooms, and the outdated bathroom. Polly’s opinion did not alter. She liked the place and could certainly imagine herself living there. She’d update the place, but liked the retro-look, anyway. Her only quibble was the neighbour’s dog. And what about the neighbours themselves? If they had a dog that was antisocial, what would they be like? Polly knew she could never live next to noisy neighbours. She had to make the agent do everything he could to resolve that situation. The last thing she needed right now was to buy a place at a bargain price and it to turn out to be a white elephant.
Polly didn’t want to leave the agent with the idea he’d made a sale, so she hemmed and hawed, especially over the dog. He looked uncomfortable and said he’d call the neighbours when he got back to the office.
A few minutes later, with an armful of brochures of other properties Andrew wanted her to see, Polly was back in her car and ready to go home.
As she headed off towards Auckland City, her phone beeped. She pulled over and fished in her bag. She had a message from Jackie inviting her for a coffee. She replied that she’d love to and set off again, feeling happier than she had in a long time. Polly grinned as she drove along. She’d found a home that she liked enough to buy, as long as the dog wasn’t going to be a constant nuisance. She shook her head at how quickly that had happened. She’d also booked a holiday and now she was off for coffee with her literary agent. Yes, things were finally looking up.
She pulled off the main road and wove her way through the city to their favourite little coffee shop. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it offered great coffee and privacy in which to talk business. The only downside was that parking was incredibly difficult in those side streets. Polly headed along her usual space-hunting route and was surprised to see
one opposite her almost immediately. She stopped and waited for traffic from the opposite direction to stop. With her hand on the wheel and the indicator flashing, Polly was fairly twitching as she watched the final car approach. What she didn’t expect was for the driver not to see her waiting there, showing her intention to take the space, and park in it himself.
“You bastard!” Polly yelled and then winced as she realised her window was down.
The other driver obviously saw her by the smirk of ‘tough luck’ that he graced her with.
That annoyed Polly even more. “Didn’t you see me waiting here? Are you blind?”
The man finished his parking manoeuvre, shrugged, and mouthed, “What?”
“Thank you very much, you ignorant bastard!” Polly drove off. “Why do other drivers do that?” she complained to herself as she hunted for another parking space. “The arrogant prick obviously saw me waiting there and took the space anyway.” She shook her head. “And why does that piss me off so much?” There was no answer to that. Polly knew nothing could annoy her faster than other drivers and she wondered if others were affected like that, too. In the end, Polly had to drive around her ‘space-hunting’ route three times before she found a space. Ironically, it turned out to be the same one stolen from her ten minutes beforehand. The guy had obviously only wanted to use the cash machine or grab a something from the sandwich shop, but still, he’d stolen her space and that niggled her.
By the time Polly parked and finally arrived at the coffee shop, Jackie had been waiting for some time. “I saw you pass three or four times,” she stated as she stood and hugged Polly. “The parking around here is getting worse.”
“Tell me about it.” Polly sighed and headed to the counter to order a coffee for herself and two slices of chocolate cake for them both.
Once seated, Polly heaved a sigh of relief.