Am I Seeing Double 3 Read online

  A couple of aspiring writers had already asked Katey, if she could ask me if I would mind speaking on a couple of points on writing. I thanked Katey for this because I’d had no idea of what I was going to talk about if asked to. This gave me a little time to think of what to say, and give me a good lead into a question and answer session.

  When I arrived at the library, it was the same scenario as before. A car space reserved for me in front, and the welcoming group gathered at the front door.

  By the time I got out of the car and walked around it, Katey was waiting about a metre from the curb. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Is that all I get?” she whispered in my ear.

  “For the moment. I’m saving the rest for later,” I murmured.

  “Goodee.”

  “Shall we?” I asked and offered her my arm.

  “I hope so,” she replied, then started to giggle.

  “Stop it,” I said out of the corner of my mouth as we walked toward the rest of the group. “How am I supposed to keep my self-control and chat with your group if you’re going to keep this up?”

  “Okay, I’ll be nice.”

  When we got to the group, Katey introduced me to two new members, and gestured to the others, stating she was sure I had met them before. This prompted a murmur from them.

  Katey then ushered me inside and over to the head of the large table. It was wide as well as long, almost as wide as a full-size billiard table. They must have pulled three of their wide reading tables together and covered them with white sheets. There was ample room at each end for two chairs.

  I gave a short talk on writing on the requests that Katey had given me. I reiterated in different ways, that this was my way of doing things, and these were only guidelines. I also emphasized that all authors should strive for originality, and their own style of writing.

  After the talk, I asked for questions. I was surprised, and delighted with the number that spoke up. I don’t give talks or lecture much as they make me nervous. This time, with the amount of questions asked in a more relaxed fashion than last time, it put me more at ease, and it became much more enjoyable, and turned into more of a discussion.

  I finished the session telling them more about me, which is a rarity, and some of the typos I had made, where I had inserted or left out a letter giving the sentence a completely new meaning.

  One for memory was where I had written that a man had to use his pick to break open a trapdoor to an underground tunnel. I had inadvertently typed something else. My spell checker had not picked it up, as according to the dictionary, they were both legitimate words.

  By the time the meeting with the reader’s club had concluded, it was well into lunchtime, so I asked Katey if I could take her to lunch. She agreed and suggested a restaurant where she liked to eat.

  The restaurant was only small, but very neat and tidy, and decorated ornately with hanging lanterns and wall coverings. There weren’t many customers and there was a small table vacant in a corner, so we headed over to it. It would give us a certain amount of privacy, should we need to talk.

  “I hope you like Chinese—maybe I should’ve asked?” Katey said as we sat at a table.

  “No, that’s fine. I love Chinese. And, as a matter of fact, I haven’t had a good Chinese meal now in ages,” I added.

  “Good, then you’ll love this place. It has an excellent chef.”

  I chuckled. “Great, then it might restore a bit of my energy from last night.”

  Katey giggled. “We got a little bit tipsy, hey.”

  “Yes, if that’s what you call it.”

  “You seemed to enjoy that meeting today,” she said to change the subject mainly because people began to look in our direction.

  “Yes, I did. They all seemed to be more relaxed than last time.”

  “They’re getting to know you better, the same as I am.” Katey said and started to giggle again.

  “Not quite the same,” I replied and started to laugh.

  “I suppose you’ll be heading off now that you’ve caught up with your fans,” Katey said now looking a little forlorn.

  “Why? Did you have something in mind?”

  “Not really, but I could probably think of something,” she answered, her mood beginning to brighten a little.

  “Well, start thinking. When I got back to the motel this morning, I changed my single room for a double.”

  “But I thought you said you were only staying overnight?” Katey reminded me and now smiling.

  “I did, but I also said I was in no hurry, so I changed the room in case something came up.”

  “I can’t see why it wouldn’t. It did last night, well, and truly.”

  Katey giggled into her cup of Chinese tea delivered to our table while we were talking. This was another reason why she had changed the subject earlier.

  The conversation ended abruptly as one of the table waiting staff came over to take our order.

  Katey was right about the restaurant. The meal was fabulous.

  After lunch, I drove Katey back to the library, and told her I would pick her up from her home at six that evening.

  With a few hours to kill, I drove around Barrickton. It was rather a pretty town, and not built on flat land like many country towns out west. Its terrain was slightly undulated with lots of trees that lined the streets. Situated on a reasonably sized river that meandered almost through the centre of town, it gave the impression of a sleepy little town where rarely anything exciting happened.

  Not far from the main street was a park on the river with a playground, an undercover bar-b-que area, and some tables with bench type seats attached that had their own gable roof built over them.

  I parked my car under the shade of a tree in the car park and strolled to one of the tables. I called home from there, and Jane answered. I had a fair idea that she would be there. She was spending a lot more time at home now, much more than she used to.

  I called her mainly to let her know I had arrived safely, and I was fine. She asked me if I was behaving myself, and I told her no, but also told her about Katey. She told me that she knew she shouldn’t have let me out of her sight, and laughed. She said it was okay, as long as I didn’t forget where I lived.

  I informed her that was no way possible, and that I was missing her already.

  “Yeah, right,” she said.

  “No truly, I do,” I assured her.

  “Okay, I believe you.”

  “I won’t tell you to enjoy yourself—it looks like you already are.”

  “It’s your fault, you made me like this.”

  “No way. You were like that before we met you, so why do you think Phyllis and I hang around.” She then started to giggle.

  “Okay, have it your way, I won’t argue.”

  “Well, take care and look after yourself. If you come home with damaged merchandise, you’re in heaps of trouble, buster.”

  “Sure, I’ll make doubly certain of that.”

  “You better.”

  “Okay I’ll let you get back to work. Miss you.”

  “Me, too. It’s lonely here without you—bye.”

  I felt better about myself after talking to Jane. The confession would be one less I’d have to make when I got home, and Jane wouldn’t hold back on telling Phyllis.

  Phyllis is the one I worry about most. She wouldn’t be as blasé as Jane. Jane would be more confident that she was number one in my little black book, whereas Phyllis wouldn’t be quite so sure. Another difference in the twins I had noticed.

  Phyllis wouldn’t say anything to me though, but I’d be able to pick it up in her mood, be it ever so slight in its change.

  With Jane, it was very difficult to detect slight changes. She was more confident in her outward self. Then again, she hadn’t been as badly hurt in a relationship as Phyllis, and if I am wrong, Jane wasn’t showing it.

  What made me notice this with Phyllis was, she seemed to be getting a little clingier
than Jane and fussing over me more.

  With time to kill, before I went back to the motel and change before taking Katey out, and time to sit and think, I remained seated at this park table for a while and reflected on the slight change in Phyllis. I had first started to notice this change sometime back, but at the time, I was busy concentrating on writing, and not a lot of time to myself. I hadn’t put a lot of thought into it. Now, in the lovely serene and peaceful surroundings, I had the time, so I reflected back.

  It was the day after I had told the twins I was going to take some time off from writing. I was sitting in my lounge room in a comfortable armchair. My lounge is huge and great for parties—not that we have many at home, but being big, the lounge suite was situated in almost the middle of the room. As I sat there watching something that wasn’t particularly interesting, but was filling in time, Phyllis came up from behind my chair and began to stroke my hair. It was a Sunday and both the twins were home. Phyllis, then bent over and kissed me on the cheek, then began to nibble on my ear.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied, but not in a tone as if it was nothing.

  “Can’t you see I’m watching telly,” I said, good-naturedly.

  “And when have you ever watched that show?”

  “I watch it all the time,” I replied trying to sound indignant.

  “Liar.”

  “I do, sometimes.”

  “Yeah, maybe once in a decade.”

  Phyllis, then started to work on my ear with her tongue. I have a few erogenous zones and a tongue in my ear is one of them.

  “Well, I’m busy now. Go to your room.”

  Phyllis stormed off and when she got to the lounge door she stopped to look back, she hadn’t heard me coming full pelt after her in my socks and I cannoned into her almost knocking her off her feet. I grabbed her in my arms and carried her into her bedroom.

  That day was probably one of the best lovemaking sessions that I ever had before with Phyllis. We were both totally exhausted afterward.

  I commented on it when I finally got my breath back. Phyllis said she had to make up for time that would be lost, but I am sure that she was making sure that I came back.

  From my side, she had no worries there, as I would hate to think of a life without them. Maybe they may move on one day, but that’s something I don’t like to dwell on.

  I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see what the time was. I hadn’t realised I had been there that long, and it was high time I made tracks for the motel.

  When I drove over to pick up Katey later, she was waiting for me on her veranda, giving me a huge smile and started walking toward me.

  I jumped out of the car, walked to the passenger side, and opened the car door for her.

  She pecked me on the cheek. “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.” Then she got in.

  “You’re welcome. Any nice places here for dinner?” I asked as I opened my door.

  “I know a couple.”

  “I’ll leave that choice up to you, since your choice for lunch was excellent,” I declared as I slid behind the wheel.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Katey replied.

  “I did, very much so.”

  “Well there is an Indian restaurant on the lake.”

  “Lake? Where’s that?”

  “At the back of town, I’ll show you, if that’s what you want.”

  “That’s another thing I haven’t had in a while— a good Indian curry.”

  “Okay, we’ll go there, then.”

  “You okay with Indian food?”

  “Sure. Particularly the way this chef does it.”

  “That’s it then.”

  With Barrickton, being only rather small, anywhere in town wasn’t a long drive, and with a few directions from Katey, we were soon in the car park of the restaurant.

  We were ushered to a table for two by a young Indian woman in one of the prettiest saris I have ever seen. She seated us next to a full-length glass wall that overlooked the lake. The view was magnificent.

  After the Indian woman had taken our order for drinks, I watched her walk to the bar, admiring her sari.

  “Beautiful, hey,” Katey commented.

  “Yeah, and the sari is rather nice, too,” I said and chuckled.

  Katey leaned over and punched my arm.

  “That’s what I meant, you idiot.” She glowered at me.

  “I like admiring beautiful things and my present company is no exception.”

  “That just got you out of jail, Buster,” she said now smiling. “You writers always have a way with words.”

  The meal was delicious and as we ate, we watched the sun set over the lake, making the view even more picturesque.

  We drove to the motel and seeing it was still early, we walked to the pub, had a couple more drinks and then went back to the motel.

  In the morning, I drove Katey home kissing each other, saying goodbye. It was a touching farewell, but we both admitted that we had enjoyed each other’s company, and that we were both in non-committed relationships and it had been fun while it lasted.

  Chapter Four

  Finally, I was now on my way to see Jenny. There was no way I had intended to stay in Barrickton this long, and hadn’t foreseen the interlude with Katey before I left home.

  Jenny lived in Nylandra. It was roughly forty kilometres northwest of Barrickton and around three times larger. It was like a hub, as many people came from the surrounding smaller towns to shop at the larger Supermarkets and Department stores. She was a receptionist for a real estate firm, called Roberts and Caldwell.

  I entered the town at just on 10:30 that morning, and I stopped at the first service station I came to. I didn’t really need fuel since I still had half a tank, but thought I might as well fill up while I was there.

  When I went in to pay the counter attendant, I asked him the directions to the local library. He said it was easy to find. It was only about 200 metres past the Commercial Hotel, on the right-hand side, in the main street.

  As I drove down through town, I saw the sign, which read Commercial Hotel, about 300 metres in front of me. Then 100 metres before the hotel, I couldn’t help but notice another sign on the left-hand side that read Roberts and Caldwell. That was good. I now knew where to find Jenny.

  I kept going and headed for the library. I would catch up with Jenny later, and see what she was doing for lunch.

  The next large building, about 200 metres on the right, after the hotel, was the council chambers. That is where the library would be.

  I found a one-hour parking spot a short distance away, and after I got out of the car, I grabbed two copies of my latest release from the car boot, tucked them under my arm, and headed off.

  I walked into the library and approached the reception desk—the woman sitting at a computer looked vaguely familiar. Whether I’m right or wrong, or maybe it’s because I write, but I seem to pigeonhole people and their occupations. Here was a perfect example of what I would imagine a librarian to look like, and if she were to audition for a part in a movie, she would have an excellent chance of winning the part on appearance alone.

  The woman looked up, as I got close.

  “Mr. Singleton, how nice of you to drop by,” she said, looking somewhat surprised.

  “We’ve met?” I asked. “I thought you looked familiar as I walked in.”

  “I’m flattered,” she replied, “And yes, I was at your book launch in Barrington some time back.”

  “Yes…now I remember. You spoke to me after, and commented on the movie of one of my books they screened here. Your comment was you didn’t think the movie was as good as the book, and I agreed with you.”

  “That’s correct. You have a good memory.”

  “For some things, but I’m sorry…I have forgotten your name.

  “Justine Roberts.”

  “Pleased to meet you again, Justine.” She then held out my hand, having an unusually
firm grip, which is something I admire in a woman, and respect in a man. To me, there is nothing worse than a flimsy handshake.

  “What brings you to Nylandra?” Justine asked.

  “I’m just taking a break and catching up with an old friend.”

  “Jenny Barton, no doubt. You two seemed to know each other very well when I saw you at Barrington.”

  Nothing goes unnoticed in a country town.

  “Yes, I’ve known Jenny since I was a struggling journalist,” I replied, “You know Jenny?”

  “Yes, she works for my father.”

  “I see, one of the partners in Roberts and Caldwell. You’re not into real estate?”

  “I was, but Jenny took over from me so I could pursue my life’s ambition, of being a Librarian.”

  I felt like saying that I could see why and she certainly looked the part, but instead, all I said was, “I see.”

  “I was thrilled when Jenny walked in and showed her credentials. I went straight to my father, and begged him to let me go. It was perfect timing, since a position at the library here had only just become available.”

  “Right, so that is why Jenny was able to get a job here so quickly, but that was some time ago.”

  “Yes, ages. I’m now head librarian and have been for quite a considerable time.”

  “Do you have any copies of my latest here?”

  “No, they are on order and haven’t arrived as yet, but they should be here soon.”

  “I have a couple with me, and I can leave them with you if you like.”

  “That’d be great.”

  I took the books from under my armpits, and placed them on the desk in front of Justine.

  “Would you do me a favour, if you don’t mind? Could you autograph them for me please?”

  “Certainly, not a problem.”

  I wrote in them—To my friend Justine Roberts—and signed my name. When I had finished the first one, Justine dragged the book over, turned it around and read what I had written.