To:
Patrick Knight <patrick.knight@mymail.com>
From:
Molly Cooper <molly.cooper@flowermail.com>
Subject:
We’re off – like a rotten egg
Hi Patrick,
I can’t believe I’ll actually be in England in just over twenty-four hours. At
last I’m packed (suitcases groaning) and my little house is shining clean and
ready for you. Brand new sheets on the bed – I hope you like navy blue.
I also hope you’ll feel
welcome here and, more importantly, comfortable. I considered leaving flowers
in a vase, but I was worried they might droop and die and start to smell
before you got here. I’ll leave the key under the flowerpot beside the back
door.
Now I know that probably
sounds incredibly reckless to you, but don’t worry – the residents of Magnetic
Island are very honest and extremely laid-back. No one locks their doors.
I don’t want you to fret
though, so I’ve also left a spare key at reception at The Sapphire Bay resort
where I used to work until yesterday.
“Used to work.”
That has such a nice ring,
doesn’t it? I’ve trained Jill, the owner’s niece to take my place while I’m
away, and for now, at least, I’m giddily carefree and unemployed.
Yippee!!
You have no idea how much
I’ve always wanted to live in London, even if it’s only for three months.
Thanks to you, Patrick, this really is my dream come true, and I’m beyond
excited. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
Have you finished up at your work? Are you having a farewell party? Mine was
last night. It was pretty rowdy and I have no idea what to do with all the
gifts people gave me. I can’t fit as much as another peanut in my suitcases,
so I’ll probably have to stash these things in a box under the bed (your bed
now). Sorry.
By the way, please feel free
to use my car. It’s not much more than a sardine can on wheels, but it gets
you about. Don’t worry that it’s unregistered. Cars on the island don’t need
registration unless they’re taken over to the mainland.
It was kind of you to
mention that your car is garaged just around the corner from your place, but
don’t worry, I won’t risk my shaky driving skills in London traffic.
Oh, and don’t be upset if
the ferry is running late. The boats here run on “island time”.
Anyway, happy travels.
London here I come!
Molly
P.S. I agree that we shouldn’t phone each other except in the direst
emergency. You’re right – phone calls can be intrusive (especially with a ten
hour time difference). And they’re costly. Emails are so handy – and I’ll try
to be diplomatic. No guarantees. I can rattle on when I’m excited.
M
To: Molly
Cooper <molly.cooper@flowermail.com>
From:
Patrick Knight <patrick.knight@mymail.com>
Subject:
Re: We’re off – like a rotten egg
Dear
Molly,
Thanks
for your message. No time for a farewell party, I’m afraid. Had to work back
to get my desk cleared. Rushing now to pack and get away. Cidalia (cleaning
lady) will come in some time this week to explain everything about the house –
how the oven works etc.
The keys
to the house are in a safety deposit box at the Chelsea branch of Barclay’s
bank on the King’s Road. Square brick building. My colleagues have
instructions to hand them over to you. You’ll just need to show your passport.
You shouldn’t have any problems.
Have a
good flight.
Best
wishes,
Patrick
To:
Patrick Knight <patrick.knight@mymail.com>
From:
Molly Cooper <molly.cooper@flowermail.com>
Subject: I’m in
London!!!!!!!
Wow! Wow!
Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!
If I wasn’t so tired I’d
pinch myself, but I’m horribly jet lagged and can hardly keep my eyes open.
Insanely happy though.
Your very gentlemanly
colleague at the bank handed over the keys and wished me a pleasant stay at
Number 34 Alice Grove and then I trundled my luggage around the corner and –
Patrick, your house is –
Indescribably
Lovely.
Divine
will have to suffice for now, but the truth is that your home is more than
divine.
Too tired to do it justice tonight. Will have my first English cup of tea and
fall into bed. Your bed. Gosh, that sounds rather intimate, doesn’t it?
Will write tomorrow.
Blissfully,
Molly
To:
Patrick Knight <Patrick.knight@mymail.com>
From:
Molly Cooper <molly.cooper@flowermail.com>
Subject:
Thank you
Hi
Patrick,
I’ve
slept for ten hours in your lovely king size bed and am feeling much better
today, but my head is still buzzing with excitement! I’ve never left Australia
before so my first sight of England yesterday was the most amazing thrill. We
flew in over the English Channel and when I saw the green and misty fields,
just the way I’ve always imagined them, I confess became a tad weepy.
And then
Heathrow. Oh, my God, what an experience. Now I know how cattle feel when
they’re being herded into the yards. For a moment there, I wanted to turn tail
and run back to my sleepy little island.
I soon
got over that, thanks heavens, and I caught a taxi to Chelsea. Terribly
extravagant, I know, but I wasn’t quite ready to face the tube with all of my
luggage. I’m just a teensy bit scared of The Underground.
The
driver asked me what district I wanted to go to and when I told him Chelsea
SW3 he didn’t say anything but I could see by the way he blinked that he was
impressed. When I got here I was pretty darned impressed too.
But I’m
worried, Patrick.
This
isn’t exactly an even house swap.
Your
place is so gorgeous! Like a four story doll’s house. Sorry, I hope that’s not
offensive to a man. I love it all – the carpeted staircases and beautiful
arched windows and marble fireplaces, and the bedrooms with their own
ensuite bathrooms. There’s even a bidet! Blush. It took me a while
to work out what it was. I’d never seen one before.
Meanwhile, you’ll be discovering the green tree frogs in my toilet. Gosh,
Patrick, can you bear it?
I love
the sitting room with all your books – you’re quite a reader, aren’t you – but
I think my favourite room is the kitchen right at the bottom of your house. I
love the black and white tiles on the floor and glass French doors opening
onto a little courtyard at the back.
I had my
morning cuppa out in the courtyard this morning, sitting in a little pool of
pale English sunshine. And there was a tiny patch of daffodils at my feet!
I’ve never seen daffodils growing before.
So many
firsts!
After
breakfast I went for a walk along the King’s Road and everyone looked so pink
cheeked and glamorous, with their long, double knotted scarves and
boots. I bought myself a scarf in Marks & Spencer’s (won’t be able to afford
boots). I so wanted to look like all the other girls, but I can’t manage the
pink cheeks.
I swear I
saw a television actor. An older man, don’t know his name, but my grandmother
used to love him.
But
crikey, Patrick. I look around here and I have all this – I feel like I’m
living in Buckingham Palace – and then I think about you on the other side of
the world in my tiny Pandanus Cottage which is – well, you’ll have seen it for
yourself by now – it’s very basic, isn’t it? Perhaps I should have warned you
that I don’t even have a flat screen TV.
Do write
and tell me how you are – hopefully not struck dumb with horror.
Cheers,
as you Brits say,
Molly
To:
Patrick Knight <patrick.knight@mymail.com>
From:
Molly Cooper <molly.cooper@flowermail.com>
Subject:
Are you there yet?
Sorry to
sound like your mother, Patrick, but could you just drop a quick line to let
me know you’ve arrived and you’re OK and the house is OK?
M
P.S. I’m
still happy and excited, but I can’t believe how cold it is here. Isn’t it
supposed to be spring?
z
From “Title?"
By: Barbara Hannay
Mills and Boon Romance
Release Date???
ISBN: ???
Copyright: © Barbara Hannay
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. The edition published by arrangement
with Harlequin Books S.A. For more romance information surf to: http://www.eHarlequin.com
Goodbye
tropical island paradise...
