‘How fabulous to have you here. Just wait till I tell everyone we’ve got a famous author living among us. Not that they’ll believe me. Literary heathens, the lot of them.’ She giggled, her cheeks puffing out with a wide grin.

Thick white clouds danced across the sky hiding the sun and Nicole shivered with the sudden drop in temperature.

‘I just loved your first book,’ Mandy continued. ‘How come we haven’t seen another?’

Nicole looked in her teacup. ‘Oh … I guess I just got a bit … knocked off track.’ She shrugged.

‘Oh.’ Mandy didn’t look convinced.

Nicole braced herself. She really wasn’t prepared to answer deeply personal questions. The pain was still too raw.

‘Maybe the cove will help you get your writing mojo back,’ Mandy said, and reached across to pat her hand.

‘Maybe.’ Nicole pulled her hand back, relieved Mandy didn’t probe any further. If only it were that simple.

Surprisingly, Nicole didn’t have to shift the conversation. The upcoming footy match was, apparently, very important, and Mandy filled her in on the rivalry between the cove and nearby Woodville and the various regular characters involved, including her husband, Trevor, who coached the team. Nicole found herself laughing out loud and relaxing even more.

When the guys finished clearing out the first section of the front yard, from the kitchen window to the letterbox, they packed up the ute and called out to Mandy.

‘That’s my cue to get out of your hair.’ Mandy stacked the teacups and saucers. ‘We’ll chat soon, hey?’

In the fading afternoon light, Nicole watched them leave. It had been some time since she’d enjoyed a quiet cuppa with a friend. Not that Mandy was a friend. And there wouldn’t really be time enough for her to become one. Shame. Nicole had forgotten how nice it could be to just sit and chat. Even if the other person did most of the chatting. A soft smile touched her lips.

Well, she’d taken the first and hopefully hardest step to rebuild her life. And that was something.

Wasn’t it?

March, Two Years Ago

‘To Nicky.’ Mark raised his champagne glass in salute and the small group at the table followed his lead. It was fitting that they celebrated Nicky signing a publishing contract in the tiny Vietnamese restaurant she and Mark had been in when her agent, Di, had rung with the offer. Nicky looked at the faces smiling back at her. Jane could barely contain her excitement. Di filled up the champagne glasses once more and Mark’s friend Robert patted him on the back.

‘To great stories.’ The cheer went up again. She’d done it. She was getting published. Well, they’d done it. It was as much Mark’s success as hers. Without him none of this would have happened.