Page 30 of Hidden Gem
Chapter 14
Awave of dizzinesshit Marnie as she glanced at the digital clock on her car dashboard. It was getting late. She’d told Shasa she was going to check on her demented ex-mother-in-law. A solid cover. Nanette needed checking on, so much so that Marnie felt guilty for not going. Instead, she was driving in an opposite direction, around the lake. The sunset behind the stadium had painted the sky in all the shades of peach. Marnie’s hands shook against the steering wheel. This was not good. She was back to lying to her best friend, sneaking around at night.
Maybe the fasting was messing with her head. She was 35 hours into her 48-hour fast and feeling spaced out. The hunger pangs had subsided after the first day, but not eating or preparing food, and trying not to think about food, left a lot of time for other activities. When it came to distractions, googling Jason was the best one. Back home with a fibre connection and limitless data, it was far too easy. During her search, she’d come across an old interview of Jason at his lakeside villa, explaining why he chose to rent instead of buying a house. But Marnie could hardly pay attention to his principles on home ownership and property investment. She was transfixed by the street view behind him, a street she recognised on the south side of the lake. Jason’s Hamilton home was within walking distance from her house!
Since her discovery, Marnie hadn’t missed one evening walk. Many times, she went with Shasa, sometimes Mac’s mother Sue, or their friend Elsie who also lived on the other side of the lake, close to Jason’s cottage. Marnie knew Jason was in Wellington, but she couldn’t help slowing down to peer into his garden, imagining him there. No harm in looking, right?
Tonight was different. Tonight, she wanted to go alone. She’d read on the government website that Jason was visiting Hamilton on the weekend. With Saturday morning commitments, she hoped he would spend the night at his house by the lake. The press release had stated Jason would stand in for the housing minister Kathleen Rush. Marnie wondered if it had anything to do with Kathleen’s health. She hadn’t heard from the minister again, apart from the huge basket of chocolates that had arrived the day before. Marnie had taken the artisan treats to the community house to add to their afterschool snack supplies, hoping the school kids appreciated gold-leaf-adorned raspberry chocolate bark as much as Weetbix and toast. Giving away the chocolates had eased her guilt and she hoped Kathleen had no reason to ever contact her again. If only she could stay away from Jason.
Marnie crawled down Lake Crescent, her spine tingling. She didn’t have a plan, only his address. She had no reason to knock on his door, but she could walk around the lake, like everyone else who lived in his neighbourhood. Passing his house, she could slow down and have a quick peek. If by some miracle she ran into him, she’d gracefully let him off the hook. No hard feelings. It was such a stupid phrase. So untrue. But she’d coached herself to say the right words, for his sake. She didn’t want Jason to feel bad because she couldn’t stop pining for him. She had to let him walk free, love him from afar.
Parking behind the yacht club, Marnie checked her face in the rear-view mirror. She’d made herself presentable, even smoothed her curls with an iron. They’d refused to straighten, but at least they weren’t a furry, tangled mess.
Marnie shook her head at the wide hazel eyes staring back at her in the mirror. She’d spent the last couple of weeks hyper aware of her own body, its appearance, aches and pains. After years on auto pilot, she now faced crisis. It felt unfair. She’d seen middle-aged women on those makeover TV shows, suddenly walking proud, looking and acting like someone brand new had slipped into their skin. Why couldn’t it be that simple? Thanks to Luna, she’d experienced a glimpse of what was possible. Thanks to Jason, she’d felt desired, alive, if only for a moment. Now, that flickering hope refused to die. She couldn’t go back to her old life. She wasn’t the same anymore. Yet, her makeover was incomplete. After the trip, she’d emptied her wardrobe of everything unflattering and ended up with empty shelves. How had she never noticed it before? Everything she owned made her look fat and frumpy. Marnie smoothed down her loose sweater. It had a scooped neckline and gathered around her waist, accentuating her figure. It was the best thing she owned, an outfit her trainer had called a ‘winner’, wanting to take ‘before’ and ‘after’ photos of her for the club wall – an offer Marnie had firmly declined.
Marnie gathered her phone and keys and scrambled out of the car, her pulse racing. The lakeside path buzzed with evening walkers. She approached the familiar path leading to the pedestrian bridge that wound through subtropical bush then past the beautiful backyards of multimillion-dollar properties backing up to the lake. Most of the gardens were hibernating through the winter, the rose bushes gathering strength for the new season.
Marnie looked over her shoulder to check she wasn’t being closely followed by anyone. All clear. She rounded a corner, and Jason’s backyard came into view. She’d seen the low, wooden gate countless times and wondered how easy it would be to open it, to slip through. The trick was looking like you belonged, right?
Marnie slowed, staring at Jason’s house. No lights or movement. After all the anticipation, an empty house? Her lungs deflated. If she kept walking, that was it. The path momentarily empty, Marnie veered towards the gate and stood there, wondering what to do. The stunning backyard had fruit trees and evergreens planted in formation. Raised flowerbeds framed the house.
Without warning, her vision went black and her ears buzzed. A headrush. She grabbed the gate for support. What kind of idiot went on a walk without a water bottle during a two-day fast? Marnie dropped her head between her knees, waiting for her vision to return.
Forcing herself upright, she noticed a lemon tree, its branches hanging over the fence, bursting with produce. Desperate for sugar, she picked one, dug her nails into the flesh and squeezed every drop into her mouth and onto her top. The citrus was tart, making her eyes water, but she sucked it dry, and it worked. After hanging her head for another long moment, she felt a flicker of energy return. Maybe, she could make it out of here.
Marnie hid the peels in the native grass and returned to the path. Grateful no one had seen her, she rushed down the footbridge. If she kept moving, she could get around the lake before darkness fell and drive home, with a bit of Jason’s lemon in her. As stupid as it sounded, the thought soothed her.
The path disappeared back into the bush, with glimpses of the darkening lake peeking between the giant flax and kakabeak trees. Finally, she emerged from the bush onto a huge playground, which was under construction. A temporary chain link fence cut off the footpath. Marnie looked for a way around, the orange signs barely visible in the dim light.
And that’s when she saw him.
