Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast
Page 14
Rebecca chuckled. “Okay, teacher’s pet. I won’t say a word, I promise.”
Back at her desk, Rebecca went through the motions of filling out the shoplifting report and submitting it. This time it processed without any issues. She opened her emails and leaned forward in her chair to skim through them.
It all made so much sense. The way Franklin pushed her to do better, the way he always went to the front door whenever they had a call out. He was doing everything he could to prevent losing another partner.
She couldn't help feeling sympathy for him — for the loss he’d suffered, and how much that must’ve changed him. She wondered what he’d been like before. She could ask Steph about it the next time they had a chance to chat.
An email caught her eye. It was from a sender with a name made up of random letters and symbols. Probably junk mail. She was about to mark it as spam when she caught a few of the words in the body of the mail from the preview pane.
* * *
I found you. It wasn’t so hard. You’ll have to do better than that if you want to lose me.
* * *
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was him. No, it couldn’t be. She’d done everything she could — she’d started a new life, hidden herself away somewhere no one would be able to find her.
She clicked to open the email.
It was signed Jake xo.
Panic welled in her gut, and her head felt light as she sucked in quick breaths. No, he’d found her. How was that possible? If he had her email address, that meant he knew where she worked. But perhaps he didn’t know where she was stationed?
She scanned the email, noticed that a reply had been sent. With quick movements she clicked on the reply, opened the message. It was her out of office assistant, with her new name and her work address and phone number. It’d gone out automatically the day before when she hadn’t been scheduled to work. They all did it, set automatic out of office messages for the days they wouldn’t be in the office. Franklin insisted on it. Said it was good customer service for their community, he didn’t want people thinking they were being ignored by their police department.
That meant Jake not only had her new name, but he knew where she worked. He had her email address, her phone number, the station address. He knew everything.
She pressed both hands to her forehead and stared at the screen, taking in the brief email message over and over, looking for some clue as to what he might do.
She’d made the same mistake as Franklin — she’d grown complacent in the Cove. Gotten used to the sun, the sand, and the warm, curling waves. She’d grown to love her job, her dingy little unit above the fish and chip shop. She’d built a life for herself that’d seductively drawn her into its web, and now he’d found her. How? How had he tracked her down?
No matter, whatever he’d done — he knew where she was, and it was only a matter of time before he visited. He always did.
Chapter 21
Sarah
Through the window, Sarah watched as a Curlew strode across the backyard, long legs bending with slow movements, head bobbing. Another bird, its mate, stepped out of the brush to follow. They were curious birds with large heads, oversized eyes and long, spindly legs.
“…And if we follow the money, we’ll sign Angela again, for another three books… that’s all I’m saying.” Pauline’s shrill voice echoed down the phone line and throughout Sarah’s office.
The telephone was on speaker, and Sarah sat in a high-backed leather chair, staring blankly out the window at the landscape beyond — waving grey and brown grasses, billowing clouds clipping across the sky, strutting birds.
“Or…” she interrupted. “We could look at someone new.”
“We know Angela brings in the sales,” objected Pauline, raising her voice. “We have to think about the bottom line.”
“I’ve got a new prospect.” Sarah ignored Pauline and continued. “She’s written a beautiful piece of contemporary fiction. It’s literary, poetic, unexpected…”
“But it’s not commercial,” replied Pauline.
Sarah shook her head in frustration. Since when did Pauline get to make the call on who was published and who wasn’t? Why didn’t Beverly intervene?
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. I believe it would be popular with book clubs, even if it is a little more artsy than the usual book club fare.”
“Artsy? Isn’t that code for pretentious?” Pauline laughed and the rest of the group back in the Sydney office joined her.
Sarah’s head began to throb with the beginnings of a headache. These phone calls were becoming frustrating at best, impossible on the worst days. And today was fast becoming one of those days.
“Beverly… what do you think? Would you at least take a look at it?” asked Sarah.
“Bev’s popped out of the meeting to grab a coffee, hon,” replied a condescending Pauline. “I’ll make sure to ask her about it for you if you like.”
“Thanks,” replied Sarah, hoping her sarcasm could be heard through the phone.
“That’s it for today folks…”
The phone line went dead before Sarah had a chance to say goodbye. Pauline must’ve hung up mid-sentence. Sarah ran both hands through her hair with a groan. Working for Greenmount Publishing in Sydney, while living in Emerald Cove, was becoming almost unbearable. Especially now that Beverly, her boss, seemed to be pulling away from the business, and Pauline had all but taken over.
In fact she couldn’t remember what it was about publishing she’d liked in the first place. She’d found herself lying in bed in the morning, staring at the ceiling, dreading getting up since she’d have to face another day at Greenmount Publishing. And worse yet, she wasn’t even there, she’d have to do it all over a telephone and with spotty internet.
It was too much. She’d had enough. She only had one life to live and she wasn’t going to spend her days angry, bitter, and despairing because of a job. Outside her back door was the most beautiful scenery she’d ever witnessed, she lived in a stunning renovated cottage at the top of a cliff overlooking an untouched beach that stretched almost as far as she could see. She had a wonderful boyfriend, a happy life. All except for the job that made her gut clench every time she thought about it.
She picked up the phone and dialled Beverly’s number.
“Hello?” trilled Beverly.
“Bev, it’s Sarah. How are you?”
“Oh, Sarah — nice to hear from you. Is the meeting finished already?”
Sarah sighed. “Yes, it’s finished. I was surprised you left before it ended.”
“Oh yes, well Pauline is fully capable of carrying it on without me.”
Sarah shook her head. Was Beverly ready to hand everything over to Pauline? Why wasn’t she fighting to keep her job as Editor in Chief at Greenmount? This wasn’t the Beverly she knew.
“You shouldn’t give her so much leeway, Bev. She’s pushing her way in, taking over. She doesn’t have your impeccable taste when it comes to literature, all she’s interested in is what will sell…”
“I know, I know,” replied Beverly. “But that’s what they want, you know. The executive has been asking for more commercial contracts, so Pauline can deliver them that.”
“What are you saying, Bev?” Sarah stood and paced the length of her office.
“I’m moving on, that’s what I’m saying. It’s time… I’ve been with Greenmount for ten years and I’ve had an offer from a not for profit to be their CEO. I’ve taken the job, and I think it’ll be much better suited to me and the stage of life I’m at. I don’t want to work the kind of hours I’ve been doing at Greenmount anymore. I’ve got my horses… and I’ve met someone.” Bev’s voice softened.
“I’m happy for you,” replied Sarah, frustration and panic building inside her. “But you can’t leave us? You can’t hand us over to Pauline like that. We won’t cope… I won’t cope. I can’t work for her.”
“The job was meant
to be yours, Sarah. But you left…”
“I didn’t leave! I moved… big difference.” Sarah slapped a palm to her forehead. How many times did she have to say the words? She lived in another location, but she still worked for the publishing company. She never left.
“You know what I mean. You can’t be the editor in chief from a beach someone in northern New South Wales, it wouldn’t work. You haven’t even met our new hires… they don’t know who you are.”
Sarah shook her head in silence. Beverly had a point. How could she manage staff if she wasn’t in the office? Her internet access wasn’t even good enough to manage a video call most of the time.
“I understand…” she said, her bravado fading. “I get it, but I’m sorry you’re leaving. I’ll miss you.”
“Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate that. I hope I won’t be entirely forgotten, at least not right away. I’ve dedicated the best years of my life to this career, I was so driven in the early years. I didn’t get married like all my friends, I didn’t have children, I was all about the job. And I was good at it, I got promoted, then promoted again. I was the youngest editor in chief in Sydney for a while… but then the years passed and there was no more climbing to be done. I was at the top, so where to from there? Lately, it hasn’t held the same appeal for me… I won’t say I have regrets, but I do wonder how life may have gone if I’d realised then what I know now — the career ladder is a lonely and empty place to spend your days.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed. She’d never heard Beverly speak this way before. Usually her boss was all smiles, hurrying footsteps, and designer clothes. But she understood, it was exactly why she’d given up the corporate climb and moved back to Emerald Cove, that and the fact that her mother had needed her.
“I know what you mean, it’s why I left Sydney,” she said.
Beverly sighed. “Then, you’re smarter than I was at your age. I’m beginning to realise that when I leave this place, within a few months no one will even remember I was here. Why did I give them my life? It doesn’t matter to them, not one jot.”
Sarah’s throat tightened. Why was she giving them her sanity, her peace?
“You’re right, Bev. That’s true about the company, it hasn’t got feelings or a memory, but we do. I won’t forget you. You’ve had an impact on my life that will last forever. You believed in me, gave me opportunities, helped me to grow. I consider you a friend, I hope you’ll stay in touch.”
“Thank you, Sarah. That’s what I needed to hear.” Beverly cleared her throat. “And of course, I’ll stay in touch.”
“Before you go, Bev, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
Chapter 22
Sarah
Sarah lay on her back in the middle of the living room floor and stared at the ceiling. Her head spun and lights flashed before her eyes with each rapid breath that filled her lungs. She inhaled a slow breath, squeezed her eyes shut.
There was no point dwelling on it. What was done, was done.
She couldn’t change it now.
Another slow breath and the spinning in her head cleared.
There was a knock at the front door.
“Come in!” she called.
The door opened and footsteps cross the floor to where she lay. “What on earth are you doing?” asked Mick.
She turned her head to catch him in her line of sight. “I was hyperventilating, dizzy. I had to lie down.”
He squatted beside her, cupped a hand to her cheek his eyes full of concern. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
She sat, and her head spun for a moment. She steadied herself with one hand on Mick’s arm. “I quit my job.”
Mick arched an eyebrow. “What? Why?”
She stood slowly, using Mick as support. Her head felt light, but the dizziness had passed. “Because I hated it, you know that.”
He dipped his head. “True, you did seem to hate it. I wondered why you kept doing it.”
She faced him, eyes narrowed. “You never said anything.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to push.”
“But you didn’t think I should be doing it?”
“I think you should do something that fulfils you, give you a sense of joy or at least peace.”
She considered his words. It’d never occurred to her that a job or a career should do that. In her twenties she’d worked to grow a career, to pay the bills. Now, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself.
“I can’t lie about on the beach all day though, I have to work… I have no idea what I’ll do. What if I can’t find another job?” Panic began to weave ropes around her heart again, and her breathing sped up.
Mick stopped her with one hand on each arm. “Whoa, calm down. You’ll be fine.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because, I know you. You’ll be fine. But it wouldn’t hurt you to take a little time off before you dive into something new. You need a break. Have you ever taken time for yourself before?”
“Do you mean other than a two-week holiday once a year?”
He nodded. “Yes, other than that.”
“Then, no. I haven’t. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself… I haven’t had more than a couple of weeks off work since I was at university, and even then, I was studying and working part-time.”
“Sounds to me like you could do with an extended holiday.”
“Should I go somewhere?” she asked.
“It’s up to you.”
She wandered to the window, pressed her hands to the window frame, and looked out at the wild landscape beyond. “No, I think I’ll stay here. What could be better than this?”
“True,” he admitted.
“I could sleep in…”
“Yep.”
“And watch movies, take long walks on the beach, maybe even get back into running again.”
He nodded, pressed his hands to his hips. “And you could also spend more time with your amazing boyfriend.”
She laughed. “That too, of course. Wow, I’m liking the sound of this more and more. You’re right, maybe I shouldn’t dive directly into worrying about what comes next. Perhaps I should take some time to relax first.”
“I think that’d be a great idea.”
She strode to the kitchen. “I’m making tea, would you like some?”
“Yes, please.” He followed her and sat on one of the bar stools by the bench.
“This is a great idea. Thanks, Mick.”
“You’re welcome.”
The more she thought about it, the more it appealed to her. Some time to do nothing at all sounded impossibly luxurious. She’d never considered it before. Sure, she’d seen other people do it — take months off to laze around the house, or to backpack around Europe. But she’d never considered doing it herself. Her career had been too important to her. But now that career was over. There was no way she could continue to live in Emerald Cove and land an editing job at another publishing house.
Panic began to wind its way around her heart.
No, she couldn’t think that way, it’d only make her crazy.
She didn’t know what the future might hold, but she wasn’t even going to think about it for at least a week, maybe even a month. She smiled as she filled the kettle with water from the tap. The future was completely open, she could do anything at all.
As she poured boiling water into the teapot, Mick’s mobile phone rang. He pulled it out, looked at the screen.
“Besides,” he said. “Didn’t you want to write a book? Now you’ll have time.”
He answered the phone and walked into the living room to talk.
Sarah held the kettle in the air, unmoving as his words washed over her. She had always wanted to write a book but had never had the time. At least, that was the excuse she’d used. If she was honest with herself, she was afraid to write. What if the book wasn’t any good? She’d been a professional editor for years, critiquing the work of writers, telling them how to i
mprove their craft, what to change, how to manipulate their words to tell a better story. But what if she couldn’t do it herself? The fear of failure had gripped her every time she sat at the keyboard to write, so she’d busied herself doing other things. There was always plenty to do, plenty of things to occupy her time — and so she said she’d write a book one day, when she had time.
She swallowed and set the kettle back in place, then pulled two mugs from the cupboard overhead and set a strainer on top of one. As she poured the tea into the mugs, her mind raced. If she did write a book, what type of book should she write? She loved all different genres. There wasn’t one particular genre that stood out to her. Of course, she’d had a specialty at Greenwood, they all did. Hers was historical literary fiction. She’d enjoyed every single book she worked on at the publishing house in that genre, but did it follow that she should write in that genre?
Her heart thudded in her chest as nerves warmed her cheeks. Perhaps she should consider writing something completely different, like science fiction?
Mick strode into the kitchen as she finished pouring milk into the two mugs. She held one out to him, he took it with a smile.
“Who was that?”
“Work… I’ll have to get back to it soon. The carpenter over at the new reno place is insisting I didn’t order the right timber. It’s fine, I’ll sort it out when I get there.”
She nodded. “I thought about what you said — that I should write. It’s a great idea. I’m going to ponder for a while…”
He laughed, moved around the bench to kiss her lightly on the lips. Then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Ponder away, but take some time to rest as well, okay?”
They chatted together nestled in each other’s arms on the back porch while they finished their tea. Then, Mick kissed her goodbye.
“What are you going to do for the rest of the day?” he asked.