‘Right, let’s call this meeting to order.’ Bella Brandon, Sarah’s boss and editor-in-chief of Seriously Sydney flipped the lid off her coffee with perfectly manicured talons and took a sip without the slightest smudge to her cherry-red lipstick. ‘What have we got for this week?’
Seriously Sydney held the position of number one weekend lifestyle magazine for women thirty to fifty-five. With fierce competition, Bella demanded new and exciting articles every week. She called it feeding the beast, giving Sarah the enduring image of Bella in a ringmaster’s costume cracking a whip.
‘Sarah, what does your razor-sharp team of journalists have for me this morning?’ Bella flicked a piece of lint off her jacket in a bored manner, suggesting she’d rather be anywhere else than here. So would Sarah.
‘Colin, please.’ She turned to the more sparkly and annoying half of her two-person staff, being the type of chap who’d never met a boundary he couldn’t ignore.
‘I’ve got something on the wonders of ginseng, everything from helping to prevent dementia to curing adrenal fatigue. My naturopath swears by it.’ Colin specialised in health articles linked to whatever his current hypochondrial complaint happened to be. Thin and rangy, he assumed a concave shape wherever he perched, looking rather like the old cartoon character Beaky Buzzard.
‘Not bad,’ said Bella, tapping her teeth with a pencil. ‘It needs some pizzazz. Find out who’s taking it—anyone famous and especially anyone infamous. I’m particularly interested in any connection to enhancement in sexual performance, got it?’
Colin nodded furiously, bright patches appearing on his cheeks as he stabbed at his electronic tablet with his forefinger. Sarah hated those things. Give her a notebook and pen any day; that way she could doodle and it looked like she was taking notes.
‘What else? Arlene?’
Arlene, always nervous at the best of times, jumped at the sound of her name. ‘Um … yes, I thought I’d do something like The Truth About Fillers—How to avoid looking like a blow-up duck.’ She used her fingers to make air quotes, dislodging her glasses in the process.
‘Been done,’ said Bella, moving on.
‘Not like this,’ Arlene spoke quickly, before she lost her chance. ‘Did you know fillers were invented over a hundred years ago and started out as mineral oil and paraffin?’
‘Ew!’ Colin screwed up his face with disgust.
‘I thought I’d have a guide to how many syringes is enough for each age group, you know, if you’re thirty or forty, and compare it to how many it takes to look overstuffed, so our readers know when they’re being misinformed by their cosmetic consultant.’ She sat on the edge of her seat, becoming more animated as she seemed to recapture Bella’s attention.
‘I’m interested,’ said Bella, pointing her pencil straight at Arlene. ‘Write it up.’
‘How many does it take, out of interest?’ whispered Colin.
‘More than ten,’ Arlene whispered back, ‘and you look like a Beverly Hills Housewife.’
‘Sarah, hit me. What have you got?’ Bella checked her watch while Sarah panicked. Her mind blanked as if thoughts of Lonely in Longreach had erased every idea she’d had ready to present. All she had was a pad full of doodles, swirls and little interconnecting boxes. As head of the Lifestyle section, she was expected to deliver the big, punchy ideas. If she couldn’t get it together and remember her pitch, Bella might demote her in favour of Arlene … or worse yet, Colin.
‘I … I was thinking about …’
‘Yes, hurry up, I’ve got a meeting with marketing to get to.’ Bella pinned Sarah with her intense gaze, like a butterfly to a board, which only served to increase the level of complete blankness in her brain.
‘Well …’ Sarah swallowed hard. What could she pitch? The horror of family get-togethers? Vegan bodybuilders? Bella wouldn’t go for any of that. Then she had it.
‘How about a piece on finding love in the country in the twenty-first century? It’s hard enough getting a decent date in the city where there’s tons of people, right? What do people in the country do to find love?’
‘I’m listening. You’ve got thirty seconds.’
Sarah hooked her hair behind her ears and wriggled to the front of her chair a la Arlene. ‘There are these rural dating websites full of men and women who are looking for love. I want to investigate how successful they are. There are issues like isolation, distance, small communities. I think it will fit in well since Farmer Goes a Courting has been revived and I believe it’s rating quite well.’ She didn’t have a clue how the show was doing but if Fiona’s enthusiasm was anything to go by, then probably great. She crossed her fingers underneath the table.
‘I like it, especially if you focus on those in their thirties to early forties. The young can go to their Bachelor and Spinster Balls. What do the older folk do? Excellent, Sarah. Make it a feature piece.’ Bella stood up, sending her chair sliding across the floor. ‘As you said, it’s hard enough to find a decent date in a city full of men.’ She sighed and for one spine-tingling moment, Sarah thought Bella might show a tiny bit of vulnerability.
Instead she straightened what looked like an original vintage Chanel tweed jacket and tossed back her perfectly ombré locks like a forties starlet. ‘Sarah, tease that idea out into a four to six part series. I want to see pain, triumph, tears … you know the sort of thing. While you’re working on that I want a piece on the trend towards vegan bodybuilders. You’re dating one, aren’t you?’ Bella narrowed her eyes to something suspiciously approaching a squint.
‘Um, yes.’ Not for the first time, Sarah wondered if Bella possessed some kind of sixth sense which allowed her to read minds.
‘You know the deadlines, I expect you all to have something to me on time. That means you, Colin.’ She pointed her pencil at him like a gun.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said as she stalked out to her next meeting.
‘God, she stresses me out,’ said Arlene as she lay her forehead on the table. ‘I don’t know how much more of this I can take.’
Sarah spun slowly on her chair and looked out the window. The view of other office buildings did little to calm her nerves. Great concrete monoliths with shiny glass windows for eyes. She shuddered. Bella’s hardnosed approach would unnerve a special forces commando. Now that would be an interesting story: see how the soldiers stood up to a week with Bella.
‘Are you signing up to date a farmer, Miss Sarah?’ Colin simpered, grating on her last nerve. ‘I thought you were happy with that big lug of yours.’
‘I am,’ she said, her tone short and businesslike. ‘The article has nothing to do with my love life.’ She sounded defensive. Not the tone she’d been going for.
‘Right,’ said Colin, giving her a leering wink. ‘I do love a good flanno shirt on a man. Heaven.’
Sarah stood up. ‘I don’t know about you, but I have a lot of work to do if I’m going to pull this off. Colin, I want the first draft of that ginseng thing on my desk by tomorrow morning.’ Then she turned and walked out of the boardroom with as much self-righteous dignity as she could manage as Colin let out a dramatic groan.
Back at the safety of her desk, she threw her pad down and flopped in her chair. What had she done? Bella would expect an article on vegan bodybuilders on her desk by the end of the week. That bit was easy. The outback love series she’d pitched had her tied up in knots. The minute Bella said yes, the switch had been thrown and the prospect of Lonely in Longreach became 3D and technicolour.
The prospect of meeting her internet crush aside, could she pull it off? There was more at stake than her heart; this was her career. She’d thrown her hat into the ring, now she’d have to fight.
Opening her laptop, she typed in OutbackSingles.com, guilt flooding her veins like an illicit drug as the home screen came into view.
She sat and stared at it.
She shouldn’t be on here. There were bound to be other sites for rural singles. A Google search would take a second to find them. Her fingers crept towards the keyboard and found all the right letters to spell Lonely in Longreach and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop them.
Why should she feel guilty? Checking out the site constituted research for her article, nothing more. No harm to anyone, least of all Greg. She’d been faithful their entire relationship and had no interest in being anything else. They were planning on getting engaged after all. Serious stuff.
So what if her heart didn’t leap at the sight of him, or her breath catch in her throat whenever she looked into his eyes. That kind of thing only happened in romance novels or movies. Not in real life. She didn’t know one single person who had fallen in love at first sight. Not possible. Greg had his flaws, but he was a good, loving person who took care of her. He’d make a great dad someday.
‘A great dad,’ she said out loud as if the fact clinched the argument. ‘Doesn’t mean a thing,’ she muttered as the profile popped up.
‘Hello.’ Her breath turned into a sigh at the sight of him. His gaze bored right into her soul. No one should be allowed to have eyes that blue. She lingered for a second before giving herself a little shake. ‘Snap out of it, this is for research purposes only.’
What was she researching again? The trials and tribulations of dating for the rural lovelorn. That’s right. The smart thing to do would be to get in touch with some people who might be willing to be interviewed.
‘Good idea,’ she coached herself. She’d pick two or three people and contact them about the effectiveness of online dating. No reason Lonely in Longreach couldn’t be one of those people. Being super cute meant he might be quite successful, and it would be interesting to hear about his experiences.
‘Keep it professional,’ she muttered under her breath as she read his profile.
I’m a widower with a fifteen-year-old (completely independent) son. My wife died nearly seven years ago from breast cancer. I’m finally ready to date again and I’m looking for a pretty, kind, sweet, loyal woman who wouldn’t mind moving to the country. Must love animals, no allergies, be able to cook and go without makeup if necessary. Dirt-bike riding skills considered a plus. If you think this sounds like you, send me a message.
‘Oh, God.’ Sarah put one hand on her chest and took a deep breath. She could picture Lonely in Longreach nursing his wife before she died, leaving him alone to raise their son. She could imagine him tucking his little boy in at night, reading him a story, sitting with him when he cried in his sleep because he missed his mummy. How he must have sat by his dying wife’s bedside, holding her hand and promising her he’d take care of their boy no matter what.
Sarah’s heart broke for him. She studied his picture again. Something about him spoke to her, something familiar and new all at once. Like she’d met him briefly somewhere before. Impossible of course, yet she couldn’t shake the odd sense of connection she got every time she looked at him.
Her fingers were poised over the keyboard, waiting for words that would not come. What could she possibly write? She wanted to meet him, without a doubt. To talk about his dating experiences, though not necessarily for the reasons she’d stated.
‘Why is this so hard?’ She leaned back in her swivel chair and tipped her head back with her eyes closed. She pictured Greg and compared him to Lonely in Longreach. Greg was real while Lonely in Longreach was a projection of her romantic fantasy. She didn’t even know his name. It might not even be his actual picture. He could be a Nigerian somewhere in West Africa, waiting to swoop on her fortune. She snorted at the idea. Slim pickings where her money was concerned.
Greg, despite his ailments and allergies, had a sweet and gentle quality about him. Who knew what qualities Lonely in Longreach had. He might have nursed his dying wife and raised his son alone. He might have hired people to do all that for him or shipped the son off to boarding school. His profile did say independent fifteen-year-old. What did that mean exactly?
She righted herself and picked up a pen. Opening her writing pad, she wrote the names of both men at the top and drew a line down the middle. Then she wrote down what she knew about each of them. Not much in the case of Lonely in Longreach. Deducing facts from his profile could go either way.
Greg was handy in the kitchen. Didn’t sound like Lonely in Longreach had mastered those skills if he wanted someone who could cook. Then again, maybe he wanted a break from doing all the cooking, someone to share the load.
Must love animals, something Greg struggled with due to his allergies. Sarah loved animals. Definitely a plus in Lonely in Longreach’s column.
Must be able to go without makeup. Greg liked her to look polished, though he didn’t push the issue. He was wiser than that. It sounded like Lonely in Longreach liked the natural look. Fine with her. Another tick in his column.
As for dirt bikes, she had no experience apart from the time she’d rented a scooter in Thailand. Not quite the same thing although some of those roads had given her a run for her money.
She looked at her list.
‘What am I doing?’ she groaned. She’d wandered off from writing a professional message inviting Lonely in Longreach to take part in her article and ended up comparing her almost-fiancé to a stranger. A stranger she could not stop thinking about. How could she have feelings for someone she hadn’t even met yet? Was that even possible? She’d heard of people walking into a room and knowing the minute they set eyes on their future partner that this person was the one.
She didn’t think it could ever happen to her.
Sarah picked up her mobile phone off her desk and dialled her mother.
‘Sarah, darling, glad you called. I wanted to talk to you about your—our—wedding dress.’ Her mother launched straight in, as was her habit.
‘I need to ask you something,’ Sarah interrupted, speaking quickly to head Eleanor off at the pass. ‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’
‘Of course I do, how do you think I ended up with your father?’ Eleanor laughed as if it were the funniest irony of her life. Perhaps it was.
‘Really?’ Sarah had never heard her say anything about falling for her father the minute she laid eyes on him.
‘I met him at a Bachelor and Spinster Ball in a little town near Maitland.’ Eleanor sighed, and Sarah could imagine her becoming dreamy, her hand at her pearls, rolling them around with her fingertips. ‘He wasn’t the most handsome man there, or the most charming for that matter. But I took one look at him and I knew. Just like that. He felt the same. Like we didn’t get a choice in the matter. We were made for each other.’
‘I don’t think you’ve ever told me that story,’ said Sarah.
‘Oh well, people think it’s a lot of nonsense, so I keep it to myself. Some things must remain private.’ Eleanor gave a little giggle, sounding a trifle embarrassed.
‘How did it feel, the knowing?’ Sarah swallowed as she jabbed her pen down hard on her writing pad.
‘Let me remember.’ Eleanor took her time, drawing her story out. ‘I recall a sensation of dizziness, butterflies in my tummy and I couldn’t breathe. It only happened when I looked at him, so I knew he had to be the one. Why are you asking me about love at first sight? You’re quite happy with Graham, aren’t you?’
‘Greg, Mum, his name is Greg. I’m researching something about finding love in the country.’ She was hardly going to tell her mother about Lonely in Longreach and the odd, niggling feeling that he was The One. Giving the thought voice might make it real.
‘Sounds interesting. Keep me posted. Your father and I would love to be included if you think you can find a spot for us.’ She’d forgotten her claim to privacy in the face of possible fame. ‘Nice man, your Greg, even if he is a little odd.’ They hadn’t spoken since that fateful lunch. ‘I’m glad he’s thinking about asking you to marry him, but darling, are you considering it? Seriously, I mean?’
‘Of course,’ Sarah spluttered. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? He’s a lovely, sweet, kind man with excellent knees.’
‘As true as that is, are you sure there’s enough … spark … to last a lifetime? I got the sense he’s quite high maintenance. What on earth are you going to eat?’ Eleanor’s earrings clinked against the phone as she spoke. The sound irritated Sarah almost as much as the conversation.
‘Look, Mother, love to chat about this later. I’m on a bit of a deadline right now. I should probably go.’
‘I don’t want to keep you from your work. Such a thrill having a journalist in the family.’ Eleanor gave a deep, dramatic sigh and Sarah knew what came next. ‘Shame your brother can’t make something of himself.’
‘I’ll talk to him about it, I promise. Got to go. Bye … bye … love you.’ She hung up while her mother was still talking and slumped in her chair.
Love at first sight. Her parents had it. She didn’t. Not with Greg anyway. Maybe with Lonely in Longreach. Could that even be possible? Who ever heard of falling in love with someone’s photo?
‘Ridiculous,’ she said. If she did go and meet him, he’d surely turn out to be nothing special. And yet, as she stared at his profile her heart ratcheted up its beat, butterflies began zooming about her stomach, her breath became shallow. Something weird was happening to her.
‘We’ll have to go see, won’t we?’
With trembling fingers, Sarah typed in the information required to set up a new dating profile completely separate from the one Fiona had created. She wanted privacy but the dating site was the only way she had of contacting Lonely in Longreach. She needed a profile photo. A quick flick through her phone showed nothing but head shots of Greg. She’d never been one for a selfie.
Sighing, Sarah bit the bullet and rolled her chair around the end of her desk until Arlene and Colin came into view.
‘Would one of you two creative souls mind taking a photo for me?’ She held her phone out with a sigh, bracing for the inevitable questions.
‘Let me,’ said Colin, jumping out of his chair as if it were electrified. ‘I’m extremely good at taking profile pictures for dating sites.’ He gave her a wink.
Sarah looked at Arlene who shrugged. ‘No point asking me,’ she said. ‘I’ll make you look like the kind of woman who has too many cats.’
Colin didn’t hesitate a moment longer, taking the phone from her hand. ‘Don’t worry, boss, I’ll make you look a million dollars. First, we have to do something with that hair. There’s so much of it you’re in danger of looking like Cousin Itt’s little sister.’
‘Don’t call me boss,’ Sarah muttered between clenched teeth as she pushed her hair back off her face. If he was looking for anything more glamorous, he wasn’t going to get it. The whole situation was humiliating enough as it stood.
‘Wheel over here by the window where the light can wash out those fine lines around your eyes. Now stick your chin out a bit; it’s a great way to get rid of any double chin action. That’s it.’ He took his time fussing with angles, and all the while Sarah grew more uncomfortable and impatient.
‘Would you take the damn photo.’
‘Alright, keep your mascara on. We have to get your best side. You never know, true love may depend on it.’ He winked lasciviously and snapped a shot.
From: Solitary_In_Sydney
To: Lonely_In_Longreach
Subject: Hello
Dear Lonely in Longreach,
I’ve sat here and thought about what I’d write to you. I’ve started my message several times and deleted every one. In the end, I think it’s best to shoot straight so here goes: the truth.
I’m a journalist writing a story about love in the outback and I saw your profile on Outback Singles.
At first, I thought I’d contact you to see if you would be interested in an interview for my research. I’d be lying if I said that was the real reason for writing to you. The real reason is, I can’t get you off my mind. I don’t know why but your photo mesmerised me, and I knew I had to get to know you. Maybe I’m guilty of having a bit of a fantasy about who you really are. I’m willing to take the risk. Would you be interested in talking some more?
Warmest regards,
Solitary in Sydney
PS I just want to reassure you that I’m not a serial killer or a general nutter but I do understand if you don’t want to reply.