‘Sweetheart.’ Her mother’s voice crackled on her voice mail. ‘I’ve just found Dad’s diary. He's totally forgotten that he scheduled an appointment with a food critic from Just Delectable magazine. It’s not good to stuff up these sorts of things, especially with a new book coming out, so—’ The line from Indonesia started to bounce back. ‘Can you ring him on 0407—’ her mother’s words disappeared into the static.
Annie sighed and listened to the message again. She’d ducked home for a quick lunch hoping to spend half an hour in the shade, which was thirty degrees warmer than the freezer of the co-op. She tried the message a third time but it didn't help. The line had broken up so badly she couldn’t decode the number.
She called her mother on her mobile to ask her to repeat the number. ‘The mobile phone you have dialled is either turned off or unavailable.’ The ever-helpful communications pre-recorded message droned on. Undeterred, she rang the offices of Just Delectable magazine, hoping someone could tell her the name of the critic and when he or she was coming.
‘Our contributors are freelance and we're not privy to their appointments’ the PR person snapped unhelpfully down the line and then abruptly hung up.
Awesome. Thanks so much…not! The kitchen clock showed almost two. She'd lost her lunchbreak trying to sort out the mess and now she'd run out of time. ‘Sorry, Mum and Dad, I tried.’ Her voice echoed dismally around the empty house as she quickly smeared Vegemite onto two slices of wholemeal bread. Inserting a hunk of tasty cheese in-between the slices, she took a bite and with sandwich in hand, grabbed her keys and raced back to work for an afternoon of filleting fish.