It wasn’t unusual for the traffic to be heavy on Military Road and today was no different from any other. Suellyn’s foot slipped on the accelerator and to compensate she braked hard, narrowly missing the car ahead. Her breathing was shallow and laboured. She clenched her teeth when she spotted the amber traffic light ahead. She didn’t care if the red light camera caught her, the loss of points on her licence and the fine didn’t bother her either, she just wanted to get home before she changed her mind.
The light turned red before she made it through the intersection and a learner driver in a yellow Suzuki hatchback made an insane right hand turn in front of her into a one-way street. Suellyn punched heavily on the horn and changed lanes in time to avoid the Suzuki and changed back again to avoid hitting a delivery van parked in a loading zone.
It was a slow drive home but eventually the familiar row of Manly Pines appeared ahead and marked the entrance to her apartment block. Suellyn sighed with relief as she flicked the indicator and drove down into the basement car park, braking hard at the vehicle barrier gate as she gripped the steering wheel and stared out through the windscreen, waiting for the mechanical arm to lift. The rubber tyres slipped and squealed on the polished concrete floor as she turned and parked in bay number sixteen. The car door slammed and echoed through the empty car park. Instead of taking the stairs to their eighth floor apartment, as she usually did, she pressed the button on the lift panel and waited for it to arrive.
The Panorama was an eight storey residential building located at the southern end of Manly Beach. The Phillips’s apartment faced east and looked out across the ocean. There were two apartments to each floor and a French executive occupied the neighbouring apartment. He used it for entertaining clients when he was in town. Jean-Claude Broussard was in his forties and was fat and bald. His name was all that Suellyn had found attractive about him and the pair had got no further than their initial introductions after they had stood together one morning in the corridor, waiting for a lift to take them down to the basement car park.
Suellyn quickly unlocked the apartment door and in her haste, she tripped on the thick Persian rug in the hallway. She hissed as she kicked off her heels and ran barefoot into the study. The room was dark and instinctively she grabbed the damask curtains and yanked them back. They parted and revealed a sparkling, million dollar view, but she wasn’t interested in the view today, she had more important things on her mind. Law books and files were littered on William’s desk. She pushed them aside, sat down in his chair and pulled herself up to the edge of the desk. She hit the computer keyboard and the iMac sprang back from a deep sleep, responding to her demands, sensing her impatience. The Internet quickly connected and Suellyn found the website she had been looking for - Energex’s six digit telephone enquiry number flashed onto the screen in front of her. She hammered the number into the phone and wedged the handset between her neck and shoulder. It seemed more like hours than minutes before the operator finally answered.
‘Yes, good morning. I want to disconnect the power at my rental property. It’s vacant, there’s nobody living there.’
The operator recorded the details and asked Suellyn to hold. Meanwhile, Suellyn looked out through the window at the ocean which was calm and unruffled, exactly the opposite to the way she was feeling. A red and yellow Surf Rescue helicopter came into view and flew low over the coastline like some gigantic, flying wasp, flapping its wings above its head. The chopper was about one hundred metres from the shore and the sound of the deep thwap, thwap of the helicopter’s blades distracted her for a moment as she watched it bank sharply to the right and head back out to sea.
The operator came back on the line, prompting Suellyn to uncross her shapely legs and sit upright.
‘Yes, that’s right, 15 Eden Street. You can send the final invoice to my private post office box.’
As Suellyn hung up, she felt strangely satisfied even though her stomach felt like a dozen butterflies were performing back flips. She was convinced that everyone would be better off and Rose would come to realise that it was in her best interests to move to the retirement village. Besides, Rose had no other choice did she? Suellyn was sure she would come to her senses and realise that she was deadly serious about selling the house.
The thought suddenly crossed Suellyn’s mind that Rose might decide to stay in the house just to spite her and if that was the case, she wondered what else she could do to persuade her to leave. Other options came to mind, but the next thing on her list was to sack Max Gray, the gardener. He and Rose were far too cosy. If he found out that the power had been disconnected he might want to do something about it; he might want to help her in some way.
It was stale and airless inside the apartment and as Suellyn slid open the glass doors, she began to relax with the sound of the waves and the briny smell of the ocean as it drifted across the terrace and into the apartment.
The lounge-room opened out onto a spacious limestone terrace and the bank of white nylon curtains shivered and floated into the room like billowing sails. The movement of the curtains as they shifted about and licked at a potted indoor palm, helped to calm her nerves. She collapsed onto the white leather lounge and propped her head up against a cushion. She took a deep breath and a quiver of a smile broke out across her face as she rolled over onto her side. Her chestnut coloured hair fell in perfect waves against the nape of her neck. The cordless phone was within her reach and she grabbed at it and dialed Tommy Dwyer’s home phone number. He answered immediately as if he had been expecting her call.
‘Hi, it’s me. I’m just about to leave.’
‘I was wondering when you were going to call. What have you been up to? I can hear the excitement in your voice.’
‘You’ll be so proud of me Tommy. I’ve finally worked out a way of getting Rose to move out of the house.’
‘Well, go on then, tell me, don’t keep me in suspense.’ Tommy held the phone hard up against his ear and concentrated.
‘I’ve already spoken to a real estate agent. She said she can call around next week to inspect the house.’
A large grin broke out across his lips; a dimple creased his left cheek. ‘I can’t wait for you to get here so you can tell me all about it. Make sure you drive carefully, you know you always drive too fast on the freeway and the road will be slippery after all the rain.’ Tommy put the phone down and returned to the article in the Medical Journal of Australia. He leant over and pushed down heavily on the stainless steel coffee plunger and poured himself another cup of strong coffee. It was lukewarm. He drained the cup, looked at his watch and calculated Suellyn would arrive after lunch. Tommy stood up from the lounge, stretched his arms above his head, yawned and threw the magazine into the fireplace. It slowly disappeared into the dying embers without a trace.