Room 46 & Short Story Collection Read online

  The trip to Blue Moon Lake took two hours and twenty minutes door to door, so if she left Brisbane by seven Isabelle was at the house by nine thirty, just in time to open a bottle of wine and watch a DVD on her laptop. Gran and Grandpa had always had an iron clad rule there was to be no TV in the house and Isabelle couldn’t bring herself to break it.

  By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around, Isabelle had worked her way through two seasons of Seinfeld and all her food rations. Quiet even in the summer months, Blue Moon Lake was like a tomb in winter, especially on bleak, rainy days like today.

  Shifting her position on the sagging armchair, she unwrapped the last Mintie from the bag and popped it in her mouth, pondering just how she’d ended up here – pathetic and lonely.

  Having no interest in school, she had attended for social rather than academic reasons. Her boyfriend Nick and best friend Gina were of the same mindset and all three had exited the school gates with little more than signed uniforms and a class photo.

  They hadn’t let it hold them back though. Leaving their small home town and sharing a flat in Brisbane had been a blast. They soon realised there were entry-level jobs out there that didn’t require great school results or even good results.

  Totally wrapped up in their own little world, the trio rarely socialised with their workmates or old school friends who had also made the move to Brissie. Instead they were content to spend their evenings and weekends ensconced on the couch watching movies, spending time on-line and playing video games. Eating out meant a trip to Maccas or KFC, so there was no need to worry about how little they earnt.

  Sure they moaned about their horrible jobs, but it was just what people did. They didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

  Caught up in her reverie Isabella jumped when her mobile phone rang. Checking the screen before she connected, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her boss Edward – perfect! She could just ignore the call, but past experience told her he would just keep ringing at increasingly frequent intervals until she answered.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Yes, Isabelle I really need to speak to you. Can you come into the office in one hour?’

  ‘No, I’m away for the weekend Edward. Is there a problem?’

  ‘No, not one problem specifically – more like a range of them. Come and see me immediately when you arrive on Monday.’

  ‘Yes Edward,’ Isabelle murmured, before disconnecting the call. Tentacles of panic blossomed in her gut, reaching up to encircle her chest and throat. As much as she hated her office job in the small bathroom supply business, she needed it.

  Isabelle had been the last man standing when Nick and then Gina decided to get more serious about life. She had ignored the TAFE brochures and laughed when they started applying for better jobs and encouraged her to do the same. She had also ignored the signs that Nick and Gina had become a couple, right until the day they announced they were moving out, together.

  ‘You’re never going to amount to anything Isabelle,’ Nick had told her as he hauled boxes of his belongings out the front door.

  After she’d gotten over the devastation of being betrayed by the two people closest to her, Isabelle realised what a flow on effect this created. Her social life as she knew it had evaporated in an instant and she was suddenly very much alone, with a horrible job and a massive weekly rent bill.

  Thus began her regular pilgrimages to Blue Moon Lake.

  It was getting dark by the time Isabelle trudged down to the general store/newsagent for more supplies. The cosy temperature inside the shop was enticing and, having plenty of time to kill, she took her time flipping through the magazine display and dawdling over her meal selection. Should she get nacho cheese or salsa flavoured corn chips? Caramel chocolate or peppermint? Cookies ‘n’ cream ice cream or a Vienetta?

  Elsie, the elderly shopkeeper, eyed Isabelle suspiciously. They had always had a somewhat hostile association, although Isabelle couldn’t put her finger on why. No unpleasant words had ever been exchanged, yet it was clear to both of them that they didn’t like each other. Realising it was almost closing time Isabelle finally made her way to the cash register and dumped her magazines and junk food on the counter.

  Elsie rang up the purchases briskly, as if she had far more important things to be doing than serving the likes of a young woman in trackie dacks and thongs. Isabelle had always thought Elsie harboured a secret fantasy that somebody important was going to walk through the shop door one day and she didn’t want to be seen associating with the riff raff.

  ‘Anything else then?’ Elsie asked, with a tight smile.

  Isabelle flashed an insincere grin in return. ‘Uh, yes actually. I’ll have a two dollar scratchie thanks. One of those new Rainbow ones.’

  Elsie eyed the younger woman for a second, apparently fighting the desire to refuse service. ‘You’re sure you wouldn’t prefer one of these Easter Egg ones?’ she asked, indicating the rolls of tickets under the counter. ‘They’re still perfectly valid even though Easter has been and gone.’

  ‘No, I’d really like a rainbow one, thanks,’ Isabelle replied, with another insincere smile. The rainbow tickets were a new promotion with higher jackpots and Elsie had shoved them over to the side, obviously to discourage people buying them until the older stock had gone.

  ‘Right,’ Elsie snapped. Leaning over she ripped a ticket off with much more force than necessary and shoved it into the too-small bag she had crammed the rest of Isabelle’s purchases in. ‘That’ll be twenty-three dollars, forty-three thanks.’

  Isabelle fought the urge to roll her eyes. Almost two decades after the demise of copper coins, Elsie still insisted on pricing in one and two cent increments and only rounded up, never down. Pulling a fifty dollar note out of her purse, she slapped it down on the counter.

  Elsie slapped the change down in much the same way and Isabelle departed without either of them uttering another word.

  It wasn’t until several hours, and a bottle of wine, later that Isabelle remembered the scratchie. Rummaging through the discarded food wrappings and magazines, she finally came across the ticket. Using her thumbnail, and destroying an expensive acrylic nail in the process, she scratched the silver coating away to reveal three little sailboats. Cool, she thought, I’ve probably won two bucks and I’ll have to go and annoy Elsie a little more by cashing it in tomorrow.

  After scratching the prize panel, Isabelle’s heart lurched. She must be drunker than she thought! According to the legend, three boats equalled a prize of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

  Rubbing her eyes and pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, Isabelle checked the ticket again. Yes, it was definitely right.

  She had just become a wealthy young woman!

  Not sure of what else to do Isabelle collapsed onto the floor and began to laugh hysterically.

  * * * * * *

  It took a few weeks for the idea to fully form. Although Isabella immediately resigned from her job – just before being sacked she suspected – and went to the Golden Casket office in Woolloongabba in person to pick up her prize cheque, she put off telling anybody about her win. She needed time to think and plan…

  Naturally enough her first thoughts were of the exotic travel she could do, the new car and wardrobe…and maybe even a deposit on a unit of her own. But amidst all these materialistic thoughts, Nick’s words about her never amounting to anything kept replaying in her head.

  Sure the money would let her do anything she wanted for now, but she would still be unqualified, unemployed and lonely. Holidays were not much fun by yourself and who could she invite over to her new place?

  The old saying was right – money by itself did not make you happy. No, it would have to be what she did with the money. But what?

  The question nagged at Isabelle. Logging onto Facebook one morning she sighed morosely. She hadn’t bothered unfriending either Nick or Gina and both their pages were full of fun pictures with their new mates
. A few of the girls from school had pages that were similar – countless images of parties and campus life clogged their timelines.

  The realisation came to Isabella gradually. She had thought her friends from school were mad to sign up for years more study when they could be earning money and doing what they liked on the weekends. But she had missed the bigger picture – she hadn’t considered the fun factor of student life. It was only now after being stuck in the most un-fun workplace imaginable that she finally got it.

  TAFE was an option but the idea didn’t overly appeal, mainly because it would seem like she was copying Nick and Gina. Nick’s comments still stung and she didn’t want to appear to be following his advice.

  No, it had to be something bigger and better – like university.

  Amid all the daydreams about hanging out on campus and partying on the weekends Isabelle had to keep reminding herself of two key problems – firstly her abysmal school results and secondly the reality she would have to actually study even if she did get in. She had literally never studied in her life.

  She was having a pedicure one day when the idea came to her. Why couldn’t she just unofficially go to uni? It wasn’t like school where you had to go to homeroom and have the roll marked after all. Who would actually know she wasn’t an enrolled student? Her winnings would provide an income while she embraced the student lifestyle (and all its advantages) without the work.

  She had ignored the signs when Nick and Gina had their epiphany but the universe had given her a second chance, she decided gleefully. And unlike them she would barely have to lift a finger!

  Buoyed by her brainwave Isabelle cut short her pedicure, so she could head home and start researching the lifestyle of a pseudo student.

  * * * * *

  Isabelle was amazed at how her family took the news at face value. Nobody asked to see her acceptance papers, even though she had created a genuine looking set on her computer. Nobody questioned why any self-respecting university would admit her with such poor school results, believing Isabelle’s story that life experience was taken into consideration.

  When it came to choosing which university to attend, Isabelle knew it would have to be the University of Queensland. With its prestigious reputation, large enrolment (to allow her to blend in), huge range of courses and the fact it was a beautiful campus to boot, it ticked all the boxes.

  As the academic year drew closer, Isabelle attended open days and free lectures to familiarise herself with the university scene. Inventing a scholarship to explain her ability to support herself, Isabelle found herself a unit to rent in Toowong, much nicer than the average student could afford.

  Shopping for her new life proved to be a lot of fun. A desk and a laptop were necessities, as was a cool backpack. Isabelle adjusted her wardrobe to trendy yet scruffy. This proved to be more expensive than she had imagined, but in the end she looked the part and that was all that mattered.

  The most difficult thing was gaining a student card. Fortunately she had thought ahead and found herself a decent forger on the internet. Isabelle was amazed – and quite disturbed – at the array of false IDs readily available. But, as she kept reminding herself, she wasn’t hurting anybody by her actions. She had no intention of pretending to be a doctor, for example, just a nice, general arts student. Obviously her card was useless for anything official but it would suffice for her needs.

  Although very nervous on the first day of O-week, Isabelle soon realised that everybody assumed she was entitled to be there. Nobody asked for her enrolment papers as she attended talks and workshops.

  ‘Gosh this is all so exciting isn’t it?’ a frizzy haired teenager seated beside Isabelle exclaimed as they awaited an official “welcome to campus” speech.

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ she agreed.

  ‘I must admit I’m a bit scared though. I mean, I’m from a tiny town nobody has heard of and I’m living with my great auntie way over in Chermside. What if I don’t make any friends?’

  ‘Don’t think like that – surely amidst these thousands of people you’ll connect with somebody. Hey, you just did. I’m Isabelle and I’m looking for some new friends too. And I live really close.’

  ‘Saskia,’ the young woman replied. ‘I’m SO pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise. Now let’s listen to this speech, then get out there and become uni students.’

  Taking the smorgasbord approach, Isabelle attended about twenty lectures in the first week before honing in on the four subjects she liked most. Unfettered by pre-requisites or other such details, she only chose subjects that interested her and those with a large enrolment so she could remain anonymous.

  Despite the fact Isabelle was a few years older than Saskia and more worldly, the pair soon formed a close, genuine friendship. Although she cultivated several casual friendships in her own subjects, Isabelle was glad that Saskia was studying Business. This allowed her to hone in on Saskia’s new friends and make them hers too without being closely scrutinised about her studies. She joined some clubs as well to cast her friendship net as far as possible.

  As she had anticipated, living so close to campus helped cement Isabelle’s unit as a social hub. Far from being annoyed when friends dropped in to hang out or needed a place to crash after a night out, Isabelle loved it. Having no actual uni work to complete, Isabelle’s evenings and weekends were free for as much partying as she liked. And party she did – determined to make up for lost time.

  * * * * *

  The semester moved along much faster than Isabelle had anticipated. Thirteen weeks sounded so distant at the beginning, but now it was almost at an end. Isabelle observed the shift from the cruisey first weeks to the more frantic pace of assessment deadlines. Lecturers became less forgiving and their expectations of their students increased. People started looking serious and determined, the study carrels in the library became a hot destination and stress hung in the air – an almost tangible weight upon the shoulders of every student.

  Every student except for Isabelle, as she experienced none of this stress, although her unit showed evidence of it. Piles of textbooks and papers were scattered across her desk, along with photocopies of journal articles. A semester planner was affixed to her wall with assessment dates duly entered.

  It was the last week of semester when the journalist approached Isabelle as she walked along Fred Schonell Drive. Feeling at a bit of a loose end because nobody had time to pop around and hang out, she had headed out to uni hoping to bump into somebody and maybe grab a coffee.

  ‘Excuse me miss, are you a student here?’ the young woman asked.

  ‘Uh, yes I am,’ Isabelle replied. Even after a semester she still hesitated when directly asked that question. Fortunately it didn’t happen very often because as long as you were on campus people just assumed you had the right to be there.

  ‘Great!’ the young woman enthused. ‘My name is Alison and I’m a journalist at The Courier Mail. I’m writing a feature article for education week and I’d love to interview you if you’ve got time.’

  ‘Um, sure. But why me? I’m sure there’s heaps of other more talented students with a more interesting back story than me.’

  ‘No, it’s not about that. I’m a real believer in seizing the moment and I’ve just got a great feeling about you.’

  Stretched for time due to another assignment taking much longer than planned, in reality Alison had a looming deadline and had headed out to UQ on a whim. Forgetting her earlier ideas about seeking out an “against all odds” subject for her article, she had decided to go traditional and couldn’t believe her luck when she’d literally almost bumped into somebody who totally fit the bill.

  Isabelle hesitated for a second and then nodded. ‘Sure, I’d love to.’

  ‘Excellent! Thanks so much,’ Alison replied. ‘Let’s head up to the coffee shop and have a chat.’

  * * * * *

  Having had no need to flee to Blue Moon Lake for months, it felt a little strange as Isabel
le headed down the familiar dirt road. It was ironic too – this time she needed to hide from her friends not hide the fact she had no friends.

  Having told her uni pals she was sitting her exams early so as to attend an overseas wedding, Isabelle had to get out of Brisbane for a while and so her old haunt was the obvious choice. It was a shame she wasn’t there to bask in the glory of the newspaper article but it couldn’t be helped.

  Rising early, Isabelle drove into town still in her PJs and collected a paper from the stack outside the general store. Dropping her payment into the honesty box, she realised she should have waited for Elsie to open up so she could gauge her reaction when she realised her brush with fame had finally arrived.

  Isabelle had just made herself a coffee when her mobile rang. Reaching over to hit the speaker button she said, ‘Hi Mum’, without preamble.

  ‘Issie, how did you know it was me?’ her mother replied (she still didn’t get the caller ID thing).

  ‘Who else would ring me at six am on a Saturday?’

  ‘Ah, I hope I didn’t wake you.’

  ‘No, I was up.’

  ‘I thought as much seeing today was the big day. Gosh Issie, Dad and I are so proud of you! Our daughter chosen as the face of the biggest uni in Queensland! It’s just incredible. All my friends will be green with envy.’

  ‘It’s not that big a deal, really. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

  ‘Well yes, but I don’t just mean the picture. I mean how you got yourself there in the first place. Let’s face it love you weren’t much chop at school and your dad and I did worry about your future. Then out of the blue you pull yourself up by the bootstraps and enrol at uni! My secret hope for you was a secretarial course or a hairdressing apprenticeship. Gosh I get all teary just thinking about it.’