It Had To Be You. Barbara Hannay
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here I come!
Molly
PS 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. E-mails are so handy—and I’ll try to be diplomatic. No guarantees. I can rattle on when I’m excited.
M
To: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
From: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
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 late 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 the bank I work for on the King’s Road. It’s a square brick building. My colleagues have instructions to hand the keys over to you—and I’ve left a map. You’ll just need to show your passport. You shouldn’t have any problems.
Have a good flight.
Best wishes
Patrick
To: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
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 thirty-four 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 <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
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 I 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, thank heavens, and caught a taxi to Chelsea. Terribly extravagant, I know, but I wasn’t quite ready to face the tube with all my luggage. I’m just a teensy bit scared of the London 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-storey dolls’ 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 en suite 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 the 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 (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 flatscreen TV.
Do write and tell me how you are—hopefully not struck dumb with horror.
Cheers, as you Brits say
Molly
To: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
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
PS I’m still happy and excited, but I can’t believe how cold it is here. Isn’t it supposed to be spring?
To: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
From: Felicity Knight <[email protected]>
Subject: Touching base
Hello darling
I imagine you must be in Australia by now. I do hope you had a good flight. I promise I’m not going to bother you the whole time you’re away, but I just needed to hear that you’ve arrived safely and all is well and to wish you good luck again with writing your novel.
Love from the proud mother of a future world-famous, bestselling author.
xx
To: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
From: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Just checking
Dear Molly
Yes, I’m here, safe and sound, thank you, and everything’s fine. It was well worth the twenty-hour flight and crossing the world’s hemispheres just to get here. Don’t worry. Your house suits my needs perfectly and the setting is beautiful. Everything’s spotless, just as you promised, and the new sheets are splendid. Thank you for ironing them.
As I told you, I’m planning to write a book, so I don’t need loads of luxury and I don’t plan to watch much TV. What I need is a complete change of scenery and inspiration, and the view from your front window provides both.