Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Praise
- About the Author
- Also by Tricia Stringer
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- Excerpt
- One
Laura wasn’t sad to be leaving the hairdressing job she’d grown to hate, nor did it bother her to leave Adelaide but she’d miss Spritzi. It wasn’t her real name. Laura had met Sally Pritzker when they’d both been taken on as new apprentices with a large hairdressing business in the city and they’d become instant friends. Gareth the salon owner liked his staff to have quirky names. He’d insisted on calling her Laurita, much to her irritation. But Sally had embraced the idea and made up the name Spritzi, instantly winning Gareth’s adoration. The name had stuck, even in her personal life.
Spritzi frowned at her now. “But it’s only temporary, staying with them, isn’t it? Till you find something else? Please tell me you’re not going home to bury yourself in the country never to be seen again.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. You love coming with me to the farm.”
“For weekend visits, yes, but I don’t want to live there.”
“I can’t wait,” Laura said, a tad forcefully. She wasn’t sure how she was going to adapt to life at home again either but it was her only option at the moment.
“And you’re not running because of that dickhead Kyle?”
Laura’s stomach did a lurch at the mention of her old boyfriend’s name. “I’m not running from anyone, least of all Kyle.”
“Good. ’Cause you know he’s not worth a second thought right?”
“Yes.”
Spritzi eyed her closely. “He hasn’t been back here again, has he?”
“No.” Laura gave an emphatic shake of her head. Kyle had swept her off her feet six months ago on a night out at one of their favourite bars in the city. He was like no other guy she’d ever dated. He was a man. Seven years older than her, he’d made her feel like a princess. She’d been in love with Kyle, thought he’d loved her, until she’d caught him out with another girl in a little bar off Hindley Street a few weeks ago. She’d already had a few drinks under her belt, told him what she thought of him and gone on with her friends to another couple of bars. The next day had been the worst of her life, with both a hangover and a broken heart, and Kyle had come to the flat, saying it was all a big mistake. Thankfully Spritzi had been well enough to send him packing, threatening to call the police if he showed his face there again.