JOURNEY TO LOVE

2. ‘The Boutique’ was originally a bank and private residence. A very elaborate building for such a small town and located in the main street of River Town in northern NSW. The town was built along the edge of the wide river – hence its name – and the main road between Sydney and Brisbane had run through its centre until the new highway created a bypass. It had become very quiet after that time but in recent years was quickly regaining popularity as a holiday destination due to its location along the coastal fringe and the quaint, village atmosphere. Gerri loved living here away from the big city. She loved the beautiful shop fronts, many of which still retained their original style of late nineteenth century architecture and indeed reflected many Australian rural townships – the separate buildings adjoining each other and each with two shop window fronts separated by the main heavy wooden entrance door. Almost every shop had a wide solid awning for weather protection. Their colours varied but all retained an early federation style including muted greens, deep earthy reds and creams. Opposite ‘The Boutique’ was a beautiful park with a pathway which wound around graceful old trees – some more than one hundred years old. In the front of the park grounds was the recently built tourist information centre – a non-descript square brick building which Gerri privately thought was a blight on the natural landscape of the parkland, even if it was a necessity to cater for the growing tourism. The air was clean and fresh, and you could hear the river running on a still night. It was also less than a four-hour drive to Brisbane where Gerri and Pete had set up their accountancy business with a second office located at the back of their home in River Town. They loved the small country school for their children and Brisbane was not far away for ongoing education. When Pete died, Gerri used his life insurance payout to finalise the mortgage on their house, putting the rest towards a trust account they had already started for their children’s education. Gerri was very grateful that they’d thought these things through as now Jacob could pursue his chosen career path in business and finance – literally following in the footsteps of his parents – and boarding on campus in Brisbane during each semester without any financial stress. “You’d be very proud of him Pete,” she’d often muse. “He even looks like you – average height, stocky build like a football player and brown wavy hair. He also has your nature – solid, dependable and trustworthy.” And she’d smile into the growing hazy memory of Pete. Emma would soon be following suit to engage in her passion for fashion design. “I like her artistic nature Pete, but I don’t know how to hone her in to the right degree choice. She thinks I’m trying to stifle her,” she would sigh. Gerri loved “The Boutique” which Charles and Maude Prescott had purchased and refurbished many years ago, and which she had now been managing full time, for the last seven years. They had become very close friends and socialised privately, but since Pete’s death, Gerri refused to attend any social events including business related ones. Anything approaching fun, frivolity and personal enjoyment was at odds with her deep sense of mourning. Charles and Maude had respected her intense privacy. For Gerri, family had become her only security and her cornerstone. She had always had a protected upbringing, maintaining strong family connections. Her mother; who herself had been widowed for several years and kept busy dedicating herself to her children and grandchildren, moved to River Town after Pete died and was a marvellous help. Her two sisters and their families lived in Coffs Harbour, so school holidays shared with cousins was always a treat for her kids while she was working. Gerri was not interested in finding another man to fill the lonely gap left after Pete died. Her only interest and mission in life was to raise her children by her and Pete’s mantra. ‘By the time we’re finished with them they’ll be healthy, strong, independent young adults. During the days she would be smiling and confident. But oh, how often she would cry quietly in her dark room at night when she felt most alone and the responsibility of raising her children without him weighed heavily on her heart and mind. As Gerri entered the hotel, she was still feeling flustered after this mornings’ event with Emma even though she was quite early. But Gerri was on a mission – to ensure the suite reserved for their special guest was well and truly ready for his arrival later this morning. She looked elegant and professional in tailored black pants and a long-sleeved cream silk blouse tucked neatly in at the waist. Her only splash of colour was the sheer lilac scarf tied around her short ponytail, the long ends trailing down her back. Gerri walked briskly through the foyer towards her office, her shoes clattering on the shiny white tiled floor. The interior walls of the hotel were also white with a very high ornate ceiling. A large chandelier hung over the centre of the foyer and to the right was a long, impressive reception desk made of local, highly polished stringybark eucalypt and which used to be the teller transaction area. The large vault was visible behind, but its locking mechanism had been decommissioned, and it housed mostly stationary items. None the less it contributed to the continuing stature of the banks memory and was totally in place with the beauty and old-world charm of the banks’ new role as a boutique hotel. She heard Fran call out to her from the reception desk. Fran was born and bred in River Town and in her mid-thirties. She was an only child and lived at home with her ailing mother, to whom she was completely devoted to the exclusion of any other social interaction, apart from her job here at the hotel. She was quite small with very slender, bony hands, her fingers constantly wriggling when she talked in her soft, childlike voice. She always dressed in dark pants suits and very sensible shoes. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail and held in place with a black scrunchie and large black rimmed glasses covered almost half of her small face. The only colourful highlight was her red lipstick which was accentuated by her pale skin. It looked out of place and yet somehow fitted in with the whole unusual picture of Fran. Her coyness belied her excellent administrative skills. “Gerri, I’m so glad you’re here. I need to let you know about ...” “Sorry Fran,” Gerri interrupted. “I have a quick job to do and I’ll be right back –promise,” she called out as she disappeared into her private office. Fran started towards Gerri’s office but was distracted by the phone ringing. “Oh dear,” she muttered before returning to her post to answer it. Collecting the master key from the safe, Gerri made her way up the beautiful elaborate staircase – which was made with the same local and highly polished timber, adding to the grandeur of the foyer – to the top floor and third level. She opened the door to the penthouse suite, named so because it was the largest and most elaborately decorated room in the hotel. It had originally been the private residence of the bank manager, occupying the bulk of the third floor apart from the beautiful foyer at the top of the staircase. As Gerri entered her eyes scanned the room critically. There were flowers on the coffee table and a bowl of fruit on the small kitchen island bench. The room smelled fresh, so had clearly been aired properly. Good, she thought, silently praising her efficient staff.