PROLOGUE

Last week, looking through the personals in ‘Out and About’, Randelle’s had jumped up at her. Mallory just could not let it go by. She had responded immediately and arranged for lunch at a little teahouse in Warwick. If they hit it off they could always stroll through the manicured gardens of the castle – perfect for confidences. This morning she had dressed with care, singing in her head Adam Harvey’s When The Heart Talks, Love Listens.

Checking the scene for some time now had only resulted in a big fat zero. Well, at least after all this she knew what she did not want. Cream coloured, soft chambray shirt, dark brown cords and best brogues. Yes!! Believing first impressions to be crucial, the comfortable joggers had been rejected as too scruffy. There were good omens about this one and she needed the right look. No botch ups. Anyway, she could not rely on her face, it was too angular with lips too thin to be readily assessed as kissable.

Nothing if not a realist Mal, she thought to herself.

If Randelle could get past the head, although she was a bit vain about her bouncy, short hair that shone with copper highlights even on the cloudiest day; she reckoned her body could well and truly pass scrutiny. Obsessive about gym workouts, Mallory never missed a Pump Class unless absolutely forced; not only was she staying fit and muscular, she also found it relaxing. The natural endorphins, induced by lifting the heavy weights, gave her a welcome respite from the intensity of her studies, about which she was also fanatical.

Not prepared to risk being late, she had arrived early and was strategically positioned to observe all who entered and exited and was now sipping from a bottle of spring water. The ringing doorbell alerted her to the arrival of a cute Babe. Very up to the minute in the style of Cleo; hair spiked but not tinted, carrying some weight, but there was no problem there. She watched her settle in and order. According to the description, she must be the one. With a confident smile in place she rose to her rather considerable height and began what she judged to be a winning approach.

“Fantastic, you made it. I was beginning to think you might have changed your mind.” The spunky chick looked up, slightly startled. Not to allow any misunderstanding, Mallory continued hastily: “I’m the one who answered your ad. in ‘Out and About’. It’s great to meet you at last and you’re even more lovely than I imagined.” She pulled out the other chair and sat, having read somewhere that eyeball to eyeball was a better way ‘to make friends and influence people’. Her smile broadened encouragingly: “I’m Mallory Mason,” she said as she extended her hand. At that moment she heard a masculine voice above her head.

“Lindsey! Who is this?” The tone was not agreeable. Tilting her view she saw a rather severe young man regarding them both, as if at a tennis match and waiting impatiently for his answer.

“I’m s..sorry, Ryan,” Lyndsey was flustered. “I don’t know. She came over just before you arrived … and sat down.”

Now they were both looking at her, expecting answers and she could wish herself anywhere but here. How could she have been such a dork? The handsome young man was examining her scathingly, his intense eyes boring into her while his control over his patience decreased by the second. What could she say? Best make her apologies and beat a hasty, even if somewhat graceless retreat.

It was true. She could not get out fast enough, but she had had to settle the bill, all the while feeling their eyes burning her as she had waited for change. Right on one o’clock, as she was pulling away she saw, whom she guessed to be the genuine Randelle, pull in. Oh why hadn’t she held off? Why did she always jump in with both feet? Well, impossible to do anything at this stage. Perhaps a call later.

Now she was driving through the narrow, winding Warwickshire lanes that would take her back to the city, the air fragrant with wood smoke and the serene evocation of late summer. Unfortunately, the dramatic contrast these dense hedgerows of Hawthorn and Bramble, colourful with their ripe, red and purple berries, made with the Australian bush passed her by, unnoticed. The last few days had been severely over-cast, the unpredictable sky heavy with showers, but now the afternoon was flooded with merry sunshine. Only a few drifts of gauzy cloud remained, slow moving. She drove fast through patchwork meadows of clover, dotted with Scarlet Pimpernels and shady Crab Apple trees, their lacy branches laden with clusters of pink flowers. Everything here was on such a small scale compared with her native Queensland.

Mallory had been over in the UK for two years already, an exchange student between James Cook Uni. and Birmingham University. Right now it was summer break and the first semester of her third year would not begin for another month. With this in mind she had bought a manual V-Dub. It was really beat-up, but she could live with the shakes and rattles on a temporary basis. It was the cheaper way to go compared with the cost of hiring. She reckoned she could get most of her money back when she sold. At this stage the shirtsleeves had been rolled up and the windows rolled down. The wind whipped her hair sharply about her head, sometimes stinging her eyes, but still the heat of the sun as it shone between the white woolly clouds, was relentless. Damp patches had formed round her collar and between the shoulder blades. More speed would provide a cooling breeze as much for her mind as her body.

How could I have been so boneheaded? Recriminations chased her thoughts. She had really screwed up big time. An SMS wouldn’t do it. “Oh shit!”

The sharp curve was upon her, but she was too late. Crashing through the rickety fence, the car tumbled down a steep bank and on into an old, water filled quarry. It over-turned, wheels spinning, doors flying. As the vehicle buckled the seat belt let go and Mallory was thrown clear. The old V-Dub gurgled to the bottom as she lost consciousness, lying on the ground in a muddy heap.