Page 1 of Hidden Gem
Chapter 1
Marnie snapped herfingers, waiting for her 15-year-old daughter to look up from her phone. “Can you please pay attention? I won’t be here to do this for you.”
Tanya had spent the last half-hour filming herself and was busy posting something on TikTok. She expelled a disdainful huff and dropped the phone two inches. “I was just about to post.” Her gaze landed on the row of sealed plastic containers. “Is that all the same stuff?”
Marnie took a calming breath, reminding herself that she was dealing with a developing brain, not a fully formed human. “Half of these are cannelloni, half lasagne. They didn’t have a lot of choice, and I don’t have time to cook right now. You can mix it up, make a different salad every day. I’ll be gone a week, and this should last you four or five days. You’ll have to cook something at least a couple of times, okay?”
Tanya’s carefully pencilled eyebrows shot up. “Like what?”
Marnie opened the pantry and rummaged through the contents. Why hadn’t she stocked up on noodles? She’d practically run through the supermarket, desperate to organise herself so she could get on the road. The sooner she could convince herself that her teenage daughter wouldn’t starve or burn down the house, the sooner she’d be out of town, taking calming breaths and achieving clarity. That was the plan, anyway.
Tuna. Pasta. Cheese. That would do. Marnie pulled the ingredients from the fridge and pantry and slammed them on the kitchen counter. “This is easy. Just cook the pasta, throw in some tuna and grate the cheese. It’ll be great.”
Tanya wrinkled her nose. “Why do you have to go so far away? Can’t you write at home?”
“I need peace and quiet.” Marnie scribbled the week’s menu on the notepad and found enough magnets to fasten it on the refrigerator. “Here you go. Just follow this as a guide. You can’t live on toast.”
“Or you could give me enough money to order food?”
Marnie rubbed her forehead. This was her own fault. She’d been the housekeeper, the chauffeur, the ATM. With her firstborn, Tom, she’d somehow succeeded. He’d grown into an independent, functioning adult. An artist. Maybe she’d worked harder. She’d been freshly divorced, trying to prove something to her ex-husband. With Tanya, she’d cruised on autopilot and evidently created a human incapable of the simplest household chores.
Stacking the food back in storage, Marnie found her wallet and placed five twenty-dollar notes in her daughter’s hand. Yes, she’d messed up, but now was not the time to fix this. She’d try again upon her return.
“No McDonald’s!” she called as Tanya turned and headed to her bedroom. “Try to find something with nutritional value, please!”
Tanya stopped at her bedroom doorway, throwing a glance at her mother. “Like ginger kisses? Blueberry muffins?”
Marnie lifted her eyes heavenward, counting to ten. She’d been good lately, following her workout regimen and a decent diet, but Tanya knew her weaknesses. Still, it was pointless to argue with 15-year-olds; they dragged you down to their level. Swallowing the comebacks, Marnie located her cardigan and sneakers by the door.
Tanya’s icy voice cut through the room as she watched her getting dressed. “Are you really going out in public like that?”
“What? It’s cold.” Marnie examined her outfit in the full-length mirror by the front door. Okay, her trusted cardigan resembled a worn-out sheep costume, but it kept her warm.
“Yeah, that thing’s hideous, but I’m talking about your hair.”
Without even looking, Marnie could hear the eye-roll in Tanya’s voice. She had a point. The perpetually wet autumn weather had turned her chestnut curls into a matted, furry mess that matched the texture of her cardigan.
“It’s fine.”
She combed her fingers through the damp tangles, disregarding the teenage snipes. She was driving to a remote cabin in Paraparaumu, a sleepy seaside village on the West Coast, the cheapest last-minute booking she could find. A bit farther away than she’d have liked, but the six-hour drive would give her time to think.
Tanya’s face appeared in the mirror, two perfectly lined eyes peering over Marnie’s shoulder. She cocked her head, lips puckered. “You’ve lost weight.”
“Five kilos,” Marnie confirmed, pride flushing her cheeks. She’d worked hard, and finally, her clothes felt a little loose.
Tanya frowned. “Then why do you dress like that? It looks like you’re covering up rolls of fat, but you’re not even fat anymore. Not like... properly fat.”
Marnie wondered what constituted ‘properly fat’ but didn’t ask. “I’m not going out in public. No one will see me.”
“You still don’t have to look like a wet dog wrapped in a blanket.” Tanya turned on her heels and headed for the stairs again.
“Love you, too!” Marnie flashed her daughter a pained smile. “Remember, you have to leave for school in half an hour.”
Marnie picked up her suitcase and rolled her blanket-adorned self out the door, letting out a long sigh as the lock clicked behind her. Tanya would be fine. What she lacked in domestic skills, she made up for in sass.
Marnie hoisted her suitcase into her station wagon and climbed behind the wheel. Before starting the car, she sent a text to Shasa, her best friend and next-door neighbour.
Leaving now. Tanya should be sorted for food. If you can check in every night to see that she’s eaten and done her homework, that would be amazing.
