Free Marriage & the Mermaid (Hapless Heroes) by Louise Cusack Page B
Authors: Louise Cusack
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, Love Story, Novel, love, mermaid, scam, romcom, hapless, street kid
to love.
There’d only ever been one woman in Baz’s life who had loved him that unconditionally.
And he’d lost her when he was eight.
Chapter Eight
W ynne looked over her laptop screen to the peak–hour traffic outside the coffee shop window and sighed. All those people rushing home, probably to loved ones and noisy children while her empty flat echoed with loneliness. She’d thought an outing would raise her spirits but it hadn’t, and the uncomfortable no body loves me feeling had driven her to hot chocolate with marshmallows and a gigantic slice of cheesecake which she’d inhaled so quickly she’d barely tasted it. Then she’d felt sick because it would take her ages to work that off on the treadmill, but there was nothing for it – the hollow ache in her chest wouldn’t be filled by anything less than sugar and a big slab of fat. She knew that from experience.
So she’d binged, and now when she should be trawling employment websites on her laptop, she was obsessing about Baz and why he hadn’t called her. Wynne hadn’t mentioned it to Rachel, but she’d sent the letter two whole days ago, and this morning she’d checked with her post office and found it had been delivered at 10am yesterday and signed for by one Theodore Tiberius Wilson. Baz’s dad.
So Baz definitely had her letter. Why hadn’t he rung?
Wynne picked up her mobile phone to check that it was working, then wondered if she was starting to get compulsive. She put the phone back into her handbag and pulled out her copy of the letter she’d sent him. She’d reread it dozens of times since she’d posted the original, and each time she’d imagined she was Baz reading it for the first time. How would he react?
Dear Baz
I hope you won’t think I’m forward in writing to you, but I wanted to apologize for the bizarre circumstances surrounding our last meeting. I can only say that I read the signals incorrectly. When you smiled at me at the staff Halloween party, I assumed you were interested in me, and then I overheard you telling the other male teachers about a fantasy sequence you’d seen, with a girl in a raincoat. Although I’d never done anything like that in my life before, after a few too many drinks I thought it would be thrilling to bring that fantasy to life for you.
I was wrong.
It was scary and dangerous, and your reaction was completely understandable — wrong timing, wrong setting, wrong girl.
I hate leaving thing… unpleasant, so I’d like to buy you a coffee to apologize. I’m heading north to visit my sister next week. Could we meet and lay this to rest?
Friends?
Of course Wynne wasn’t about to lay anything to rest, or to settle for being Baz’s ‘friend’, but it seemed safer to start slowly. The imaginary visit to her sister would cost her an overnight accommodation at a nearby motel, but she couldn’t drive all that way up and back in a day, so she’d simply have to bear that cost. Even an hour with Baz would be worth the investment. Assuming he ever called her. Her mobile phone number was on the bottom of the letter and she’d expected a response by lunch–time yesterday. His father had been home to sign for the letter so Baz must be too.
Thirty hours later she was still waiting.
Wynne folded the letter up and tried to quell the panic rising inside her. Trying to win Baz had gotten her sacked. If he didn’t answer her letter…?
No. She couldn’t hold Baz accountable for her job. It was her own stupid desperation to get his forwarding address that was to blame. Even as she’d been setting the rubbish bin in her art room on fire, she’d realised it wasn’t the cleverest plan but she’d convinced herself that while everyone else was on the oval waiting for the fire brigade, she could sneak into the empty admin office and find his file. And if the wretched admin staff hadn’t shut down their computers she would have had it quickly. Instead she’d had to go searching through filing
There’d only ever been one woman in Baz’s life who had loved him that unconditionally.
And he’d lost her when he was eight.
Chapter Eight
W ynne looked over her laptop screen to the peak–hour traffic outside the coffee shop window and sighed. All those people rushing home, probably to loved ones and noisy children while her empty flat echoed with loneliness. She’d thought an outing would raise her spirits but it hadn’t, and the uncomfortable no body loves me feeling had driven her to hot chocolate with marshmallows and a gigantic slice of cheesecake which she’d inhaled so quickly she’d barely tasted it. Then she’d felt sick because it would take her ages to work that off on the treadmill, but there was nothing for it – the hollow ache in her chest wouldn’t be filled by anything less than sugar and a big slab of fat. She knew that from experience.
So she’d binged, and now when she should be trawling employment websites on her laptop, she was obsessing about Baz and why he hadn’t called her. Wynne hadn’t mentioned it to Rachel, but she’d sent the letter two whole days ago, and this morning she’d checked with her post office and found it had been delivered at 10am yesterday and signed for by one Theodore Tiberius Wilson. Baz’s dad.
So Baz definitely had her letter. Why hadn’t he rung?
Wynne picked up her mobile phone to check that it was working, then wondered if she was starting to get compulsive. She put the phone back into her handbag and pulled out her copy of the letter she’d sent him. She’d reread it dozens of times since she’d posted the original, and each time she’d imagined she was Baz reading it for the first time. How would he react?
Dear Baz
I hope you won’t think I’m forward in writing to you, but I wanted to apologize for the bizarre circumstances surrounding our last meeting. I can only say that I read the signals incorrectly. When you smiled at me at the staff Halloween party, I assumed you were interested in me, and then I overheard you telling the other male teachers about a fantasy sequence you’d seen, with a girl in a raincoat. Although I’d never done anything like that in my life before, after a few too many drinks I thought it would be thrilling to bring that fantasy to life for you.
I was wrong.
It was scary and dangerous, and your reaction was completely understandable — wrong timing, wrong setting, wrong girl.
I hate leaving thing… unpleasant, so I’d like to buy you a coffee to apologize. I’m heading north to visit my sister next week. Could we meet and lay this to rest?
Friends?
Of course Wynne wasn’t about to lay anything to rest, or to settle for being Baz’s ‘friend’, but it seemed safer to start slowly. The imaginary visit to her sister would cost her an overnight accommodation at a nearby motel, but she couldn’t drive all that way up and back in a day, so she’d simply have to bear that cost. Even an hour with Baz would be worth the investment. Assuming he ever called her. Her mobile phone number was on the bottom of the letter and she’d expected a response by lunch–time yesterday. His father had been home to sign for the letter so Baz must be too.
Thirty hours later she was still waiting.
Wynne folded the letter up and tried to quell the panic rising inside her. Trying to win Baz had gotten her sacked. If he didn’t answer her letter…?
No. She couldn’t hold Baz accountable for her job. It was her own stupid desperation to get his forwarding address that was to blame. Even as she’d been setting the rubbish bin in her art room on fire, she’d realised it wasn’t the cleverest plan but she’d convinced herself that while everyone else was on the oval waiting for the fire brigade, she could sneak into the empty admin office and find his file. And if the wretched admin staff hadn’t shut down their computers she would have had it quickly. Instead she’d had to go searching through filing