25-Year Reunion (eBook)

Caroline Erwin (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023 | 1. Auflage
320 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-3518-9 (ISBN)

Infos

An unspeakable act of arson... a sexual assault case... and the worst type of deceit a best friend could ever display, are just three reasons why former best friends - Lily, Marnie and Grace - have never returned to their childhood hometown of Holly Bay. Not since that eventful night of their graduation dinner... But when an invitation to their 25-year reunion turns up, each of the women begin to wonder if it's time to face the past. To return to the scene of the crime and finally hold the right people accountable.

Caroline was born in Sydney, Australia and now lives an hour south of Sydney with her husband, three children and two dogs. (She has also spent time living abroad in New Zealand and in the U.K). Completing a degree in 'Advertising and Marketing' in the year 2000, Caroline went on to work at several large advertising agencies and in-house marketing roles. However, having had a love for writing stories since the age of six, Caroline now tries her hand at becoming an author and has since released 4 novels: The 25-year Reunion, and 3 books in The Southgate Trilogy (as listed below): Book 1 - Between You, Me and the Gatepost Book 2 - Whistling in the Wind Book 3 - Fighting Fire with Fire

Textauszug

Hermione

‘Braid my hair first mum,’ Flo demanded, placing a hairbrush in Hermione’s hand.

‘That’s not fair. You did Flo’s hair first yesterday,’ whined Rosie, attempting to push her sister out of the way and place herself directly in front of their mother.

‘Sorry girls, no time for fancy braids today. I’ve got a breakfast meeting and I’m leaving in about thirty seconds! Perhaps Meg can do it,’ and she glanced hopefully over at the nanny who had just arrived. ‘Do you braid?’

Meg shook her own head of red straggly hair woefully. ‘I don’t sorry, but I can do a normal plait?’

‘Okay great, that will have to do today then girls, thanks,’ bristled Hermione hastily, ignoring the looks of disgust her daughters were currently exchanging. As if questioning how their mum could have possibly hired a nanny who didn’t braid.

She then smacked large kisses on each of their cheeks before grabbing her laptop off the bench nearby. ‘Meg will walk you across to school in forty minutes, be good for her.’

‘Wait… mum, before you go! Did you organise piano lessons for me and Rosie this term, like you promised? You never answered me the other day.’

‘Oh, yes, sorry Flo, I did… lessons will commence next week. I forgot to tell you. Now, I’ve really got to run,’ and Hermione hightailed it towards the front door before any more queries came her way, a dull pain suddenly developing in her lower neck. A pain she was quite certain had stemmed from those two words, piano lessons.

Initially she had tried to steer her girls away from singing and music, booking them into every sport team she could find instead but, eventually, the genetics from their mother had clearly shone through and the twins had declared their interest in doing singing lessons. Hermione had tried to persuade them otherwise, insisting sport was much more fun, but they had pleaded until she had given in and besides, singing lessons weren’t piano lessons… until they had then begged to take up piano as well, so they could play and sing together like their music teacher had highly recommended and as they knew their mother had done as a child. Which was why she had finally agreed, despite the overwhelming memories of her final year of piano lessons and the drama which had ensued as result of them. The past is in the past, she had snapped to herself. If the girls want to play, let them play, and she had quickly booked them into classes before she lost her nerve or thought about it any longer, refusing to compare it with her own traumatic experience.

Yet now, as Hermione rode the lift down to their building’s secure underground parking, the pain in her neck intensified and she found herself remembering back to the start of year twelve. Her final year of high school when she had discovered that Miss Pascale had left and that, after five years of having the same lovely piano teacher, she was to have a new one – Mr Dempsey – who, upon meeting him, appeared far too young to be a teacher or to be called ‘Mr someone’. He certainly didn’t look much older than her seventeen-year self but Hemione had quickly been informed by Lily, being the principal’s daughter, that Mr Dempsey was twenty-two and fresh out of music college.

She rubbed at her neck as she turned the ignition on and began to reverse, the memory of her first ever lesson with him now filtering through her mind, allowing back in the memories which she had shut out for years.

He had smiled charismatically as she entered the room and left the door slightly ajar, her heart racing at the realisation this was her new teacher. All Hermione’s friends remarked that she was boy crazy, teased her about it constantly, and she knew they were right. Boys did interest her rather a lot and Mr Dempsey had certainly caught her attention.

A loud honking from a car behind drew Hermione quickly out of her reflections and she hastily stuck her hand out the window in way of apology, having nearly backed into the expensive looking Mercedes trying to exit the carpark also. The clock in her car flashed 7.18 as she ascended the ramp and headed out of their building, Sydney’s torturous peak-hour traffic awaiting her. Now’s not the time for thinking about the year of 1998. The year which had changed her life in so many ways. The year she lost the two best friends she had ever been lucky enough to have.

Sure, she had friends now, well acquaintances anyhow and work colleagues she could share a drink with of a Friday, but Hermione knew they did not even come close to what she had had in Lily and Grace. Friends whom she could trust completely and who had known her every secret, her every fear. Like when she had confided in them about having a crush on her new piano teacher.

‘He’s an adult Marnie and you’re… well… not, so for one thing it would be highly illegal. Mr Dempsey would get fired and probably face criminal charges,’ Grace had explained unnecessarily, always the mother hen of the three.

‘I’ll be an adult in four months, in June. Once I’m eighteen it wouldn’t be illegal,’ Marnie had argued back stubbornly, twisting her long blonde hair around her fingers. Laughing, she had then added hastily, ‘No need to worry girls, I don’t actually want anything to happen. Even I’m not stupid enough to start something with a teacher. I just find him attractive and it’s fun having a new crush.’

Grace and Lily had exchanged a look, something they did often when Marnie confessed to things, but this didn’t bother her. She was grateful to have these two girls who had her back no matter what and would take her secrets to the grave, just as she would theirs. Just as she had done when Lily confided in her about something at the age of fifteen, a week after their drinking escapade at the rugby oval and the fire at Grace’s family store. Something she had never mentioned to anyone over the decades, not her parents, not her ex-husband, not anyone.

Hermione continued to crawl through the heavy Sydney traffic and absent-mindedly jabbed at the radio, hoping music might distract her from these memories. She had an extremely important meeting this morning and she needed to be clear-headed and focussed, not agonising over the past and she tapped her well-manicured fingernails on the steering wheel and hummed to a catchy song as she continued towards Balmain, a waterfront suburb just west of Sydney’s CBD with a trendy restaurant and café scene. If she managed to land this new client this morning, over her breakfast meeting, it would be a massive coup for her PR agency. The one she had started herself nearly a decade ago. Only a boutique agency there were few employees and just a handful of clients but today, if she won this particular one over and they agreed to come aboard, then her firm’s revenue would increase by quite an impressive sum and she could afford to hire – would need to hire – a new account director to work solely on this client with her.

The client was one of the biggest nutrition bloggers in Australia, a lady by the name of Sally Buckley whose Instagram following had recently reached the half-million mark. An impressive number for someone who was not an actress or singer nor had begun their career by appearing on some reality TV show. In fact, Sally Buckley was currently doing so well for herself that Hermione was surprised she even needed a new PR agency. Clearly the one she had been working with for the past few years had proven to be more than successful at their job. Hermione was not about to question Sally’s reasoning though, instead celebrating the fact she had received a call enquiring if she would meet with her next Thursday. ‘Early though, no later than seven-thirty,’ as this was Sally’s only free hour all week.

Reaching Balmain, she quickly located a carpark not far from the café at which they were meeting. The time was seven-twenty and she sighed with relief that she had made good time as being even a minute late could cost her the client. Smoothing the smallest of wrinkles from her well-ironed black skirt, Hermione then pushed open the café door with confidence. It was important to portray the image of confidence and calmness to her clients, letting them know she would be both these things whilst working on their business. Appearing even slightly flustered or nervous would never win over a massive client like Sally Buckley.

Sally was already inside, sitting at a large table next to the window, laptop open, her jet-black hair a stark contrast to the crisp white shirt she wore. Seeing Hermione enter, Sally stood from her chair and smiled warmly, before extending her right hand for an obligatory handshake. ‘Thank you for meeting me today Mrs Walsh,’ she began, and Hermione was surprised at how strongly her American accent still filtered through her voice after living in Australia for nearly ten years.

‘Please, call me Hermione,’ she replied, almost tempted to add that she was no longer ‘Mrs Walsh’ anyhow, having been divorced for over a year now and recently reverting to her maiden name of Jones. ‘And the pleasure is all mine Sally, I hope you haven’t been waiting long sorry?’

‘Not at all. I just wanted to have my computer ready before you arrived. Wastes...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 20.12.2023
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-3518-9 / 9798350935189