isn’t helping at all. I’m still staring at a blank page.
Any words I’ve put down are total rubbish. It’s so distressing. The ideas for my novel are perfect in my head. I can see the characters, the setting and the action, but when I try to put them on the page everything turns to garbage.
I’m beginning to think that Molly Cooper’s a far better writer than I am and she isn’t even trying. The words just flow from her. I’m feeling the first flutters of panic. I hate failure. How did I ever think I could write an entire novel? It’s all in my head, but that’s no use unless I can get it into a manuscript.
I’m going for a long hike. Walking is supposed to be very good for writer’s block.
To: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
Subject: Stingers, etc!
Hi Patrick
I’m sorry. I should have warned you about the marine stingers, and it’s a shame about the crocodile. The good news is the National Park people will probably catch the croc and move it up the coast to somewhere safe and remote, and the stinger season finishes at the end of April, so it won’t be long now before you’re able to swim. You could try the stinger-proof enclosure over in Horseshoe Bay, but swimming inside a big net isn’t the same, I suppose.
Just you wait—the island is paradise in late autumn and early winter. You’ll be able to swim and skin dive to your heart’s content.
I’ll draw a map of the island and post it to you, showing you where all the best diving reefs are. And do check out the cane toad races. They sound grotesque, but they’re actually fun. Listen to Boof. He catches the toads for the races, and maybe he can put you onto a sure thing to win a few dollars.
How’s the writing going?
Molly x
To: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
Subject: Thank you!
Patrick, you darling! Sorry if that sounds too intimate, when we’ve never actually met, but it’s so, so sweet of you to send Discovering London’s Secrets. It arrived this morning. You must have organised it over the internet. How thoughtful!
Believe me—I’m deeply, deeply grateful. I’ve looked at other travel books in the shops, but they only seem to cover all the popular sights, which are fabulous, of course—there’s a reason they’re popular—but once you’ve done Piccadilly Circus and Buck Palace, the Tower and Hyde Park you’re hungry for more, aren’t you?
Now I’m so well informed I can really explore properly, just the way I’d hoped to.
This afternoon I went back to Hyde Park and found the hidden pet cemetery mentioned in this book. It was fascinating, with all those dear little mildewed headstones marking the final resting places of dogs, cats and birds, and even a monkey.
But to use the book you sent properly, I’m going to have to brave the Underground, and that still terrifies me. I hate to think that the whole of London is sitting on top of a network of tunnels and at any given moment there are thousands of people under there, whizzing back and forth in trains.
I do feel ashamed of myself for freaking out like this. I know avoidance only makes these things worse. I’m going to work at getting braver.
M x
To: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
From: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Thank you!
Hi Molly
Thanks for offering to send a map of the diving spots on the island. It’ll be very handy. I’ll keep an eye out for the mail van.
So glad you like the book. My pleasure. But, Molly, it does sound as if you’re getting yourself very worked up about using the Tube. Of course there are other ways to get around London, but if it’s bothering you, and you feel slightly phobic, maybe you need a helping hand?
If you like, I could ask my mother to pop around to No. 34. I know she’d be only too happy to show you the ropes. That’s not quite as alarming as it sounds. With me she’s extremely bossy, but everyone else claims that she can be very calming.
Best wishes
Chin up!
Patrick
To: Patrick Knight <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Thank you!
Dear Patrick
Yet again, thank you, but I’m afraid I can’t accept your offer of a visit from your mother. I know it was kindly meant, but I couldn’t impose on her like that.
From the way I rabbit on, you probably think I’m very young—but I’m actually twenty-four, and quite old enough to tackle the challenge of catching a train.
I’ve never liked to play damsel in distress, and, while this fear may be unreasonable, it’s something I must conquer on my own.
Sincerely
Molly
PS You haven’t mentioned your book. You must be very modest, Patrick. Or does your English reserve prevent you from confiding such personal information to a nosy Aussie?
CHAPTER THREE
Text message from Karli, April 19, 10.40 a.m.: U never told us yr house swapper is seriously hot.
To: Karli Henderson <[email protected]>
From: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
Subject: House swap
Hi, Karli. Sorry—I can’t afford to reply to an international text message, so I’m resorting to e-mail. I must say your text came as a surprise. After all, the whole house swap idea came from you, and you knew I was swapping with a guy called Patrick Knight. As you also know, I only ever saw pictures of his house. I still have no idea what he looks like, so I couldn’t tell you anything about his appearance.
Actually, the lack of photos lying about here (not even an album that I can take a sneaky peek at) made me think that Patrick was shy about his appearance.
Is he seriously good-looking?
Honestly?
I’m having a ball here—not on the guy front (sigh), just exploring London. But I’m eventually going to have to get some work. The mortgage must be paid. As you know, Pandanus Cottage is my one and only asset, my key to getting ahead.
Have you spoken to Patrick? Does he have a sexy English accent? I’ve discovered that not many Londoners actually speak like Jeremy Irons or Colin Firth, which is a bit of a disappointment for me, but I suppose others wouldn’t agree. Beauty is in the ear of the receiver, after all.
How’s Jimbo?
Molly x
To: Molly Cooper <[email protected]>
From: Karli Henderson <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: House swap
Glad you’re having a great time, Mozza, but I’m not sure that I should give you too many details about your swapper’s looks. You might come racing home.
Be fair, girl. You’re over there in London with millions of Englishmen and we have just one here. Not that your Patrick has shown any signs of wanting to mix with the locals. He’s a bit aloof. Dare I say snooty?