Page 14

Relief was sweet as the door unlocked with an extra loud click on the third attempt.

Pulling out her kit bag, Violet took out some clean undies, another pair of shorts, and a T-shirt. In the corner of her bag, she had a light jersey dress rolled into a ball. She’d hang it up in the shower to get the creases out and change before lunch. It was going to be a hot day, and a dress would be more appropriate for the family lunch she’d been invited to.

Still feeling as though she was intruding, she had a super-fast, but deliciously hot shower, quickly washing and rinsing her hair. She’d brought in her small toiletries bag last night and left it on the end of the bed on the porch. She’d slept surprisingly well in that bed last night, and for the first time in weeks, she hadn’t dreamed about Brian, or about trying to escape from a locked room.

Her dreams over the past months had truly reflected her state of mind, and now she had escaped, she could move on. Being out of that toxic workplace was the best thing, and the healing had begun already.

Joe was the total opposite of Brian; easy to get on with, accommodating, and an all-round nice guy. Brian had been demanding and negative and had seemed to get his kicks out of bringing her down. The couple of times she tried to talk to him about it, he’d turned it around to be her fault, and she’d lost even more self-esteem.

And what have you learned, she asked herself.

Never get involved with anyone in the workplace, she told herself firmly. Maybe not get involved with anyone until she really knew them well.

Violet hummed as she found a broom on the back landing, and swept out the kitchen. Once she’d stripped her bed on the porch and folded up the sheets, she put them in the laundry at the back of the kitchen. She put her muddy clothes back in the car, and put her makeup bag in the bathroom, with the dress she’d steamed as she showered, ready to change before Joe’s family arrived.

She still felt awkward about the situation, but she had to make the best of it, and she could help by setting a nice table.

If she could find a tablecloth. She grinned. If not, she’d do what he suggested.

Surprise filled her when she found the linen press in the back of the house. Opening the door carefully, she expected to see cockroaches and mice droppings, but the sweet smell of lavender greeted her. The shelves were full of linen sheets and embroidered pillow cases; there were even crocheted doilies like her Gran used to edge in ecru crochet cotton. She smiled as she remembered Gran trying to teach her to crochet when she’d been a little girl, but the skill had never interested her. Violet had been a tomboy and had much preferred to be outside with Pop and the horses.

That’s where her love of animals had come from. Her eyes widened as she poked around the cupboard; there were some beautiful pieces in here. How sad that there hadn’t been a family for it to be passed down to.

Some of the delicate pieces looked as though they should be in a museum or gallery; she wondered if Joe had even looked in the cupboard. It was a far cry from the mice and cockroaches he’d expected. She crouched down and smiled when she spotted some placemats with a red and green crocheted edge. Beside them were some old-fashioned Christmas decorations and some fat red and green candles.

She wondered sadly who the childless couple had celebrated Christmas with. Blinking back a tear, she remembered her childhood Christmases at her grandparents’ house with all the cousins.

Those ties had long gone as they’d all grown up and gone out into the world. They had been so close as kids, and now they barely communicated.

Forcing away her maudlin mood, Violet went into the living room, collected the bon bons and the ornaments that Joe had bought, and then she set to work. The huge timber table was superb and when she found some beeswax in the laundry, Violet polished the table until it shone. Deciding to forgo a table cloth, she quickly aired the crochet-edged placemats and set the table. At one stage, she actually found herself singing Christmas carols under her breath, and she smiled.

Once the table was set, she stood back and was very happy with the result. That was certainly an unexpected contribution to the lunch.

Now that the kitchen was clean and the table was set, she went to the living room and picked up the telephone. As promised, Joe, in his easy organised way, had left the directory. She could have done with him in the office at the stud. He followed through with his promises.

There was a small ad for Fig Tree Lodge in the directory and it looked lovely. The whole view of the house was obscured by the large Moreton Bay Fig in the centre of the lawn; there was just a small glimpse of white wrought iron lace edging a top veranda.

It was the first place she called; she could imagine relaxing on that veranda.

“Good morning, Fig Tree Lodge, Edwina Lette speaking.”

“Oh, good morning. My name is Violet Valentine, and I’m passing through town, and I know it’s very short notice, but I’m hoping that you’ll be able to accommodate me in a single room for the next four or five nights.” Violet crossed her fingers, hoping that was the maximum the stay would be.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, my dear. I’m totally booked out until the end of January.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thank you for your time.”

“My pleasure.”

She hung up and dialled the motel number. She didn’t really fancy staying in a cabin in the caravan park, even though she was used to swagging it and tenting.

The motel rang out as Joe had suggested, so she left a message on the phone and asked if they could accommodate her from tonight for five nights, leaving her number.

Her last call was the caravan park. The call picked up on the first ring.

“Oh, hello,” she said. “I was hoping you could accommodate me in a cabin for the next five nights.”

The response was a laugh. “No chance at all, love. We’ve got a group of veteran motorbike enthusiasts here for the next week, and everything in town is full. We’ve got nothing. No cabins, no sites powered or unpowered.”