Written in the Stars

by Xavier, Dilys

  He stuffed the money into his pocket and walked out of the building, vowing never to return. The man’s remarks niggled away at him all afternoon, and overshadowed the excitement of his first major win. However, by the time he closed the restaurant that evening, he had been able to push the incident from his mind, and by now he felt quite pleased with the result of his venture.

  In his excitement to repeat the success, Mark eagerly applied his technique to the next meeting, but this time the system didn’t show up a winner. He threw the pen down with a snort of disgust and then reminded himself that Gary often went a whole week before finding something worthy of a bet. Determined to build on his capital, Mark pored over his figures again and again, trying to convince himself that he had not made a mistake. Then three days later, he found another possibility, and he placed his bet in a different establishment.

  ‘You beauty,’ he cried, excitedly, as the horse careered away from the rest of the field and won, easing down at the post. He nudged the man next to him in the betting shop as he waited for the numbers to come up.

  ‘How about that, eh? I just wish I’d put a bit more on it.’

  A postcard from Suzi, which extolled the virtues of the Sunshine State, arrived the next morning. The semi tropical scene depicted a smiling man sitting under a large, colourful umbrella with a fishing rod in one hand, and a beer in the other. It bore the legend:

  ‘Ah Queensland, beautiful one day; perfect the next.’ He turned it over and read what was on the reverse side.

  Dear Mark,

  Well we’re here. The trip was long and tiring , but uneventful. We’re both suffering from jet lag, but that’ll soon wear off. We’re off to the Gold Coast tomorrow to do some sightseeing. Hope you are coping all right. Say hello to everyone there. I’ll write again soon.

  Love Suzi

  He laid the card aside and thought about their relationship. As business partners he could not wish for more. Suzi was very efficient and knew instinctively how to handle the customers. The riotous ones were firmly reminded that their behaviour was unacceptable, the complainers were placated, and the disappointed diners were promised the table of their choice next time they rang for a booking. And of course, the old dears thought she was a darling.

  When she had told him that she might inherit Caxton Manor he did not really appreciate what it meant to her. After he had taken a look at the place he began to understand why she was so keen to turn it into a venue for receptions. Her original idea had been to retain The Stow Restaurant as a diner and use the old house for parties and conventions, but he soon convinced her that it would not be too difficult to utilize and expand the existing kitchen.

  By the time they had begun to discuss the matter seriously, Steve Pardoe had arrived on the scene to claim half of the property. Mark had even wondered if he should write to the man himself, and offer to buy his share. But of course he had the same problem as Suzi—not enough money. And he had no collateral to borrow on.

  That evening he had a long talk with his father about the situation. Ben was sympathetic, but reminded Mark that the manor had been valued at a high figure, excluding the contents. He said that even if he took out a mortgage on his modest house, it would only be about half of the sum required.

  ‘Really, the only way is to get this New Zealand fellow to agree to part payment and the balance over a period of time,’ Ben said. ‘But be mindful of the high cost to make the necessary alterations to satisfy the health regulations. They’re tough.’

  ‘Yes, I know that, but the restaurant is generating a good income now, so we…’

  He didn’t have time to finish, before his father interrupted him.

  ‘You’ve got to service your existing loan first and foremost. It’s no good borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. If you’re not careful you’ll lose everything.’ He paused to emphasis his words. ‘And Suzi will, too.’

  His father’s admonition rang in his ears for the remainder of the night. The more he thought about the situation, the more concerned he became, because he needed to succeed, and he wanted Suzi to be a part of that success. Although she had argued against rushing into things, Mark knew she had set her heart on living in that lovely old house and turning it into a show place where she could cater for the up market clientele that were looking for something special. If he could help turn her dream into a reality, he reasoned that then she would be a lot more amenable to marriage.

  ‘If only I could emulate Gary’s success,’ Mark murmured. His old workmate lived very comfortably, staying at top hotels, flying first class and driving a late model Porsche. He groaned aloud as he reminded himself that Gary had nothing to lose if his system failed. The man was a first class chef and he could probably choose a job anywhere in the world. He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘But his system hasn’t failed, so it has to be good.’

  He pulled a large envelope full of banknotes out of his wardrobe and counted them out onto the bed. One thousand, seven hundred and fifty three pounds, and nearly two thirds of that had come from just one bet. If I could up the ante, he mused, start betting in hundreds or even thousands instead of fifties, I could accumulate the money a lot quicker.

  His friend’s words came back to taunt him again. ‘Don’t be greedy.’ That was all right for Gary, because he was living a footloose life and had no particular goal, whereas Mark wanted to make something of his life. It was not greed; it was necessity. Even as he begrudgingly admitted it was risky, he was determined to push his luck to the limit to raise the money he needed. He replaced the box in the wardrobe and went to bed.

  He lay staring at the ceiling for a long time before he went to sleep. His night was filled with conflicting dreams. In one situation he would be see himself carrying Suzi across the threshold of Caxton Manor and up the long flight of stairs leading to a to beautifully decorated bedroom. In another scene he saw her watch him dispassionately as he wagered his last pound on an outsider in a desperate attempt to claw back some of the money he had lost.

  The grey light of a new day was a welcome relief from the troubled sleep. He stamped across the frosty parking area, rubbing his hands together against the bitterly cold wind that tore at his jacket. The car was blanketed in a thick coating of frost and there were miniature icicles hanging off the rear-view mirrors. After scraping the windows clear he started the vehicle and eased it out onto the road. As he drove to The Stow Restaurant, he thought about Suzi and her friend in sunny Queensland—they had picked a good time to be out of Britain.

  Yes, he mused, but I bet she’ll get tired of it in a few weeks. He was sure that by the end of the holiday she would be more than keen to get back to the restaurant.

  ‘I’ll even bet on it,’ he murmured, and then laughed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Three days later Mark received an airmail letter from Suzi. She wrote to say they were having a wonderful time, that everyone was friendly, the food was fabulous, and it was all very exciting. They found the heat a bit unbearable at times, and she had to be extra careful about protecting her fair skin, but that seemed to be the only complaint. The rest of the letter was taken up with a short description of some of the places they had visited.

  She closed with the words:

  Sometimes I wish you were here to share in this marvellous experience. Maybe we can visit it together at some future date when we’ve made lots of money from the restaurant.

  With love,

  Suzi

  He dropped the letter back onto the table and looked at the calendar.

  ‘She’ll be home in three days,’ he mused. Narelle would probably be happy to see her back, too, because he had noticed that the novelty of being a full time hostess seemed to have worn a bit thin now.

  As soon as the last customer left that afternoon, Mark began to work on the racing formula. It had been nearly a week since he had placed a winning bet, and he was eager to recuperate the money he had lost on the last wager. The horse had run well, but faded in the closing s
tages and was forced back to third place. It had been a bitter disappointment, because he had been absolutely sure it would last the distance, and he had bet accordingly.

  However, he knew that his hope of handing Suzi a bag full of money when she came home was just a dream now. Even if he could back a winner each week, it would take quite a few months to accumulate enough to satisfy his needs. Unless of course he could find a horse that he considered unbeatable, and a bookie willing to accept a bet of a thousand pounds or more.

  *

  Suzi and Charlize spent the last part of the flight discussing the various excursions that were included in the prize. They leafed through pamphlets depicting some of the attractions to be seen in the various resort areas around Brisbane.

  ‘The Gold Coast sounds like a great place to start,’ Suzi said. ‘It says here that although it was initially a haven for fishermen and surfers, it’s now considered Australia’s top playground.’

  ‘So we go there to play?’

  ‘Whatever,’ Suzi laughed.

  Charlize turned over another brochure.

  ‘Now… we’ve got the choice between Hervey Bay and Fraser Island.’ She read aloud the description of the world’s largest sand island that boasts a fresh water lake and wild horses. ‘That sounds better than leaning over the side of a boat trying to catch sight of a whale.’

  ‘It all sounds great,’ Suzi enthused, as she grabbed one of the other folders that extolled the virtues of the Whitsunday Passage. ‘We’re going Airlie Beach, aren’t we?’ She sighed. ‘It’s a bit hard to take it all in at once.’

  Part of the package holiday included a stop-over in Townsville and Cairns. From the northernmost city they would take a ride the famous narrow track railway that had serviced the early settlers on the Atherton Tablelands. The opportunity to trek through the rainforest at Kuranda did not appeal to either of them so they crossed that one off the list.

  ‘And there’s an optional visit to museum at Longreach.’ Suzi turned the brochure so that Charlize could see the picture of a huge corrugated iron building standing on the flat plain. ‘I think it’s a tribute to all the cowpokes who went out west.’

  Charlize looked at her and then laughed uproariously.

  ‘Good heavens, get your facts right. They don’t call them cowpokes in Australia.’

  ‘Never mind, it still doesn’t sound like a very nice place to visit.’ Suzi looked at the brochure again.

  They spent the first night in the heart of Brisbane and in the morning took the bus to the Surfers Paradise the next morning. After having lunch at SeaWorld, they caught another bus to the bird sanctuary, at Currumbin, where flocks of lorikeets fly into feed on the bread and honey mixture prepared by the proprietors.

  The myriad of beautifully coloured birds perched on anything available—usually the nearest shoulder or an outstretched arm. They watched as one even settled on the top of a man’s crutches.

  On the way back to Brisbane they stopped off at Bundaberg where Australia’s favourite rum was produced, but neither of them could bring themselves to drink the samples on offer.

  ‘Much too strong,’ Charlize complained, putting her glass down after a tiny sip.

  Wherever they went, the two women found themselves the centre of attraction. It seemed as if everyone wanted to invite them to a barbecue, or take them to dinner, or buy them a drink. They soon learned to say no, but were highly amused at the outrageous comments made by the local inhabitants.

  They were sitting on the verandah of a country hotel one afternoon when a couple of workmen sat down at a nearby table.

  ‘Hey, there’s a pair of good looking sheilas, Trev,’ one of them said, in a voice loud enough for them to hear. ‘Which one do you fancy? I like the dark haired one, myself.’

  ‘Please yourself, mate,’ Trevor replied, with a laugh. ‘Which ever one you chose, I’ll fancy the other one.’ He took a swig of beer. ‘Why don’t you chat ‘em up, Chicka?’

  The man called Chicka eased himself off the chair and nonchalantly wandered over to where Suzi and Charlize sat. He looked from one to the other and smiled.

  ‘G’day. How’s it going, girls, pretty good, eh?’ But before they could respond he continued with an answer. ‘Not too bad, that’s good. Can I buy you a drink?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Charlize replied, sweetly. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

  He turned to Suzi. ‘How about you, love?’

  Suzi managed to stop herself from laughing and shook her head vigorously. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘You want keep your eye on that bloke, girls,’ Trevor called out. ‘He’s a bit of a lady’s man. Really knows his way about, he does.’ He laughed good-naturedly.

  ‘Come on, Chicka,’ Trevor said, climbing to his feet, ‘they’re awake to you. You’re not going to do any good there, so you might as well have another beer.’

  As made their way to the bar, Chicka took one last look at them.

  ‘You’re right, Trev, it’s a waste of time laying on the charm with those pommie sheilas.’

  ‘Yeah, like I said they just don’t appreciate when they’re on to a good thing.’

  Charlize nudged Suzi again.

  ‘Well, that’s the end of a beautiful friendship, but thank goodness.’ She looked at her empty glass. ‘I think it’s your shout.’

  The next day they headed north to Cairns. The hot and steamy town was full of tourists and backpackers even though it was officially off-season. Once again the two women were pleased to find that their hotel was air-conditioned. Charlize found the heat particularly hard to bear, and was almost on the point of suggesting that they should go back to Brisbane when something made her change her mind.

  They were making their way towards the dining room that evening, when a man bumped into Charlize, nearly knocking her off her feet. He apologized profusely, and then offered to buy them a drink in the bar. Suzi had visions of the episode with Trevor and Chicka and tried to hurry her friend away, but then she saw a smile light up Charlize’s face. The man introduced himself as Lloyd Bridgestone, from New Zealand.

  After he had ordered the drinks, he looked directly at Charlize. ‘So you’re on holidays.’ It was neither a question nor a statement, then without waiting for a reply he continued. ‘It’s a bad time of year to visit North Queensland. The heat is always unbearable and the insects are… well, ferocious to say the least.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘No option, I’m afraid. I’m a property developer. My company is looking at this area with a view to expanding our interests.’ Then he took a sip from his glass. ‘But I haven’t seen anything that interests me, to be frank, so I’ll be more than pleased to go back home where the weather’s more temperate.’

  ‘We’ve just reached the same conclusion,’ Suzi said. ‘I don’t know how people put up with this humidity.’

  ‘I can understand your point of view.’ Lloyd nodded. Then he gave them a quizzical look. ‘I’m trying to place your accents. What part of England are you from?’ When neither of them answered immediately, he gave a nervous laugh. ‘Oops, should I have said Britain? I know the people from Wales and Scotland don’t like to be called English.’

  Charlize gave a small laugh.

  ‘How right you are, but it’s just a bit of national pride. We Welsh like to think we’re different.’

  ‘No, special,’ Suzi interjected. We are special. Some of us like to think that maybe some truly ancient blood runs in our veins, the blood of the earliest pre-Celt Britons.’

  Lloyd inclined his head.

  ‘Very interesting,’ he said. ‘So tell me, how does it go?’ He tapped his forehead with his finger. ‘Croseo, er... Croseo y? Ah, yes, I think I’ve got it now. Croseo Y Cymru.’ He gave a small laugh. ‘That’s it isn’t it? It means welcome to Wales.’

  ‘Well done.’ Charlize clapped her hands. ‘You’ve even pronounced it correctly… someone must have taught you that.’

  When he offered to escort
them into the dining room she readily agreed. He seemed very knowledgeable about the restaurant industry and asked Suzi a couple of leading questions. But it was Charlize who had most of his attention. He wanted to know all about her family and her job as a PR consultant. After dinner they all moved into the lounge bar for coffee and liqueurs.

  By the time they said goodnight, he and Charlize had eyes only for each other. Although Suzi was feeling a little neglected she wanted to hide it, so as they climbed the stairs to their room, she tried to sound casual.

  ‘He seems rather nice.’

  ‘Yes. And attractive. And intelligent,’ Charlize said, dropping her bag onto the dressing table. ‘And quite rich, apparently.’ She sank down on the side of the bed and grinned. ‘He’s asked me to have breakfast with him.’

  ‘Where? In the dining room, or in his bedroom?’

  Charlize spent more time with Lloyd over breakfast than she had intended, and had barely enough time to change into something more suitable to for the day trip to Kuranda. She ran out into the parking lot to find Suzi waiting impatiently. They scrambled onto the bus just before the driver closed the doors, and had to sit on opposite sides of the vehicle. Suzi was somewhat piqued at first, but then she saw the funny side of it.

  I think she would have preferred to miss the bus altogether, she mused, as she noted the far-away look in her friend’s eyes. She seemed to have been very taken with Lloyd, and Suzi knew it was unusual for Charlize to become this attracted to a man so quickly. They usually had to stand in line and wait to be noticed.

  They were both enthralled by the primitive beauty of the rain forest, and agreed that they would like to spend more time absorbing the tranquil setting. The train trip was entirely different, but equally enjoyable, but by the time they climbed back on the bus, the ordeal had exhausted them. It had been a very long and tiring day, and the air-conditioned hotel room was a welcome relief from the heat and the humidity.