As Annabelle drove past the darkened homestead she saw two dazzling flashes of titian light hovering in the air like fireflies. Without taking her eyes from them, she watched them imitate her slow progress past the house and around to the small cottage out the back. Pulling up in front of the charming little guest house she switched off the ignition and sat with her eyes glued hypnotically to the rear vision mirror. For some reason she couldn’t fathom her heart started to race and parting her lips she felt her breathing speed up.
Blinking she released herself from the dreamlike-spell which the tiny red Min-Min lights had enchanted her with, as they often did with unwary travellers in the Outback. Stumbling from the car she gripped her belly and bent over, groaning softly.
“I really need to use the loo before I wet myself. Christ that won’t make the best first impression, me pissing myself,” she said under her breath.
She froze as hot fingers skated deliciously up and down her spine and spinning about she sucked back a breath as she saw – nothing. Nothing except the darkened house opposite.
Annabelle you’re such a wimpy-girl at times, her snarky subconscious huffed. Ignoring her voice of reason she tilted her head and gazed across at what she assumed to be the owner’s residence. As she stared she felt powerful arms wrap around her and into her nose drifted the most delicious scent.
It smelt like rain on thirsty soil, the fresh tang of the ocean and aromatic eucalypti leaves. It was the essence of Australia fused with the musky, spicy scent of man. It was such a potent masculine scent that she half expected to see a man walking towards her. When no one materialised her shoulders drooped and she felt a wrench in her chest.
Closing her eyes she inhaled the sensual odour.
“Please don’t hide from me, I’ve missed you,” she breathed. Shaking her head she was released from the induced mental-fog and sighing longingly she turned away.
As she moved towards the verandah’s steps the porch’s sensor light winked on and the screen door opened with a squeak. Her foot froze on the first tread and looking up she got her first glimpse of a human inhabitant of Dis.
The woman who stepped out was gorgeous. A tall cool blonde, she was dressed impeccably in a tight black pencil skirt and a sleeveless polka-dot blouse. Her silvery white hair was swept up into an elegant bun on top of her head and a black velvet ribbon had been tied in a charming bow about the base. Large pearls decorated her lobes and Annabelle gasped at the size of them.
They had to be the size of table grapes.
She smiled warmly, showing Annabelle a set of perfect white teeth. As she walked towards her, her hand outstretched, her impossibly high heels click-clacked on the wood like tiny tom thumbs exploding on Bonfire night.
Why would anyone be dressed this beautifully at this hour of the night? Annabelle asked herself, frowning.
“Annabelle, my dear. How lovely to meet you, I’m Mrs Oliveri. But please call me Salomè.”
Annabelle walked up the remaining two steps and shook hands before asking in a shy whisper, “May I please use the restroom Salomè? I haven’t gone since this morning….”She glanced down at her shuffling feet, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “ I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”
Salomè smiled kindly at her and opening the door she waved her arm to the side with an elegant flourish. “Please come in my dear. “ She pointed and Annabelle followed her finger’s direction. “Just go down the hall, the bathroom is the last door on your left.”
Annabelle glanced back at her car and her brows knitted together in indecision. She didn’t want to leave Percival in his cage any longer than she had to, he’d already been locked in way too long as it was.
But after a second of hesitation, the need to relieve herself overrode any feline concerns. Smiling weakly she stepped up to the open door and looked down. A coir mat with Welcome in bold flaming-red letters lay like a flat mandarin segment at the threshold and impatiently scuffing her heels she scooted down the hallway practicing her pelvic floor exercises all the way.
Closing the door behind her she made her way back up the hall. Now that she wasn’t distracted by her full bladder she peeked into the other rooms. By the dim light she saw two bedrooms, kitchen, dining room and the last door before the entrance led into the lounge room.
Standing in the doorway she eyed the inviting cream coloured three-seater and two matching recliners. Mrs Oliveri was nowhere to be seen and as a wave of lassitude swept over her she shrugged making a beeline towards the closest armchair. Sinking into its plush embrace, she kicked her heels off and crossing her legs she looked about.
The room was certainly spacious. Besides the lounge and chairs, there was a coffee table – polished to a dazzling shine and decorated with a simple bowl of frangipanis. She tilted her head back and saw a glass-fronted cabinet which from her upside down view appeared to contain expensive looking objets d’art. “Better be careful not to bump into that. Those things look like they cost an arm and a leg.” Lifting her head she peered at the prints decorating the walls. “That’s strange…” frowning she studied each one more carefully, “…they all depict the Angel’s fall from heaven. Great.” She sighed. “My new boss must be devout as all hell.”
Her little flat would have fitted in here quite comfortably and probably still have room to spare. It had been hard to tell the size of the other rooms just by a quick peek, and she hadn’t bothered fumbling for light switches, she was too tired. Anyway, she’d see them in the morning. Yawning behind her hand she drew her legs up and snuggling down into the soft cushions she sighed and fell asleep. As she slept the storm finally unleashed its fury on Dis.