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The
Author
The author was born under the sign of the bull, Taurus, in Sydney, NSW, on Anzac
Day the 25th of April 1955.
She grew up in
Concord
and attended
North
Strathfield
Primary School
, then
Strathfield
Girls
High School
. Attending Metropolitan Business College, she received her Diploma and later
her Certificate IV in Small Business Management before commencing her own
secretarial business.
A tasty slice of her
mischievous and adventurous childhood was spent on the family farm at Tinonee,
on the banks of the
Manning
River
in NSW. She enjoyed the carefree farm life and everything nature had to offer.
The author appreciated her heritage in a quaint country town where time stood
still, being the original cargo town before Taree was established on the
opposite bank. From a very young age, she enjoyed writing poetry, compositions
and stories straight from the heart.
“I believe each person is
unique and has their own special gift to offer. There is beauty in everything
and everyone; it just needs to be drawn out and exposed for all to feed on.”
She raised her family on the
scenic
Central
Coast
(
Avoca
Beach
) where she resides today. Her other passions are bicycle riding, dancing
and photography. She has a creative and designing flair both inside and outside
the home. Being worldly and extensively travelled the globe, she has experienced
the many flavours of life. “These humble experiences have taught me to believe
in myself and to never, ever give up on my dreams. Persistence and determination
always give a positive result.”
Her motto is, ‘Enjoy life,
breathe it, live it! Make each day count’.
“Ding!
ding! dong! Ding! ding! dong!” chimed
the clock tower of
Matilda
Bay
as it struck six o’clock. Genevieve instinctively looked up when she heard
the faint, familiar sound and noticed the office wall clock had stopped and lost
two hours of time. She adjusted the hands to the correct time, waited to hear
‘tick tock, tick tock,’ and then gazed out the window with a forlorn, sad
and faraway look in her eyes.
“Jake, your taxi has arrived,” announced
Genevieve in her quiet, refined voice. “You’ll be at the airport and flying
across
Australia
before you know it. If you’re lucky, you’ll see the sunset amongst the
clouds.”
The
very striking and well-built Jake planted a soft, tender kiss on Genevieve’s
flushed cheek as he rushed out of the office clutching his luggage in one hand
and his briefcase in the other.
“Now
be a good girl while I am away, Genevieve,” he said as he gently and
flirtingly brushed her bottom with his newspaper. “I know you will do me
justice while I am away. You will be a wonderful boss. Any major problems that
need solving then please, don’t ring me,” he said chuckling to himself.
“Only joking. Here’s my itinerary. Don’t hesitate to ring me if you need
to. Good luck with everything.” Jake flashed her a huge wink before
disappearing out the front door.
Genevieve
hardly had time to turn around before the back end of the orange taxi
disappeared around the corner with the shadow of darkness looming in the
background.
“It’s
been an especially long day and I deserve to go home now. I can’t wait to have
a soak in the bathtub. Tomorrow will be a new day,” she said aloud, forgetting
that there was no one left in the office to hear her. She quickly turned out the
lights, locked up and disappeared.
a
The
next morning, as the sun rose its cheery smile above the colourful horizon, it
promised to be another glorious day, full of adventure and surprise.
It
was business as usual at Petersen Publications, a fast and upcoming advertising
agency in the heart of the city, yet only one block away from the beautiful
pounding surf of Matilda Beach.
What
distinguished Matilda Beach from other beaches down the coastline of
Australia
was its very own colony of penguins. They waddled along dutifully grouped in
their little families, following each other in straight lines. Their uniqueness
drew huge crowds of tourists to the area.
The
white foaming waves rolling in and crashing viciously on the jagged boulder
rocks against the glistening, white sand were a vision of beauty through the
glass walls of the ground floor foyer. It was the middle of the winter school
holidays and Matilda Beach was bustling with people and action. The entry was
blocked by the flurry of children zooming by on their roller-blades and
roller-skates, which pedestrians had to skilfully dodge. People were also still
celebrating the ‘Christmas in July’ events. Many buildings and cafes were
decorated with artistic snow scenes and elaborate window displays depicting the
spirit of Christmas, which the tourists thrived on.
“Ho,
ho, ho, Merry Christmas everyone,” piped one jolly Santa dressed in his fluffy
red and white suit, from one street corner, while ringing his tuneful bells with
both hands.
On
the adjacent corner stood a beautiful, tall, slim version of Mrs Claus, dressed
in a furry red-and-white mini skirt, white top and fluffy Santa hat,
accessorised with shiny, white patent leather above-knee-high boots. It was hard
to miss her, as her beautiful features stood out in the crowd and her long,
thick, golden hair glistened in the winter sun under her hat. Her husky, sexy
voice rang out through the microphone concealed in the shiny copper bell that
she clung to. “Greetings, one and all. Get your Christmas bargains now!”
“Hark
the herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn king!” sang the group of joyous
carollers assembled in front of the shopping mall. The Ho Ho Christmas Store was
doing a thriving business as people hurriedly brushed by one another and ducked
to enter and exit the shop through its tiny, quaint door.
Genevieve
arrived earlier than normal at the office. She felt excited, enthusiastic and
eager to carry out her dynamic new role of Chief Executive Officer to the best
of her ability. She walked into her private office and sensed that something was
different, but couldn’t quite place what it was. She inadvertently looked up
when she switched the light on and noticed that the manhole above her desk was
wide open and thought how strange that was.
Someone
was up in the roof making a hell of a noise. She presumed the air conditioning
man had already arrived, as discarded old Pink Batts were being hurled down the
hole. Genevieve thought, ‘I wonder who let him in? Probably the cleaner who
left the building as I was entering. I wonder if Jake told her that someone was
coming to fix the air conditioning?’
“I
must follow that through and check up for myself,” she whispered aloud as she
scribbled a reminder to herself on her upright desk diary, among the maze of
messy handwriting.
She
didn’t give the matter another thought, as phones frantically started to ring
all at the same time. Genevieve was trying hard to focus only on the hectic day
ahead. She started to organise and delegate her workload. Her graphic designers
would be working under intense pressure so she would organise a healthy lunch to
keep them refuelled, focused and on schedule.
She
turned on her intercom, bent over her desk and pressed number four.
“Good
morning, Piaff. When you arrive today, could you please organise a large platter
of mixed sandwiches and wraps and some orange juice and chilled water for the
conference room for around midday? Thanks for your help.” She placed a large
tick in her diary for the timeslot 12 to 12.30.
Genevieve’s
private line rang.
“Hi
Mum, this is a lovely surprise. Is Dad OK? Is something wrong?”
“Don’t
panic, dear. We are all fine. Why do you always suspect the worst when I ring
you? We are just excited about your promotion.”
“Yes,
this is an opportunity of a lifetime for me. It’s my big chance to prove
myself to my boss, my colleagues, my readers, but mainly to myself; my own
personal challenge. This really is the big break I’ve been waiting for.”
“All
your loyalty, patience and hard work have finally paid off my dear.”
“I
can honestly say, Mum, that I feel like a contented cat, purring away inside.
You know, I’m determined to be successful.”
“Yes
I know you are. Being acknowledged
means everything.”
“I
will be able to utilise my designing skills and creativity at long last.
I can’t wait to put them in practice.”
“You
have so much energy and initiative that sometimes you’re like a bubble just
waiting to burst, Genevieve! When we look into your eyes, we can even feel what
you’re feeling. Everyone around you feels your energy. You find it easy to
bring joy to other people and express yourself. It is your own tortured soul you
have trouble with, so be kind to yourself. You deserve it my dear.”
Genevieve
looked good for her age. She was still attractive with a mature, yet shapely
figure, and a genuine smile. Her sense of humour and happy disposition made
people laugh. She was tall and oozed class and charisma, yet in a casual way.
Genevieve could be summed up in two powerful words – ‘enchanting’ and
‘exasperating’. Pollyanna would
have been a more appropriate and befitting name. Her natural dress sense was
obvious. She dressed young yet fashionably for her age. In her younger days, she
had made the finals in various beauty pageants and worn the honour of the satin
sash across her chest. She had even posed as a live nude model at several art
classes. She found the experience very erotic. It was a huge ordeal for her to
pluck up the courage just to take the robe off. She had always been naïve and
shy about her body. The class loved her feminine poses so much that they asked
her to return the next week. Apparently, that was rare, so it was a real honour
and a compliment to her personally. She remembered how hard it was staying
completely still in one delicate pose for ten minutes at a time. Her body would
start to tremble and her eyelids would start to flicker. She then realised
professional artists only thought of her as something to sketch, not as a nude
body, and the more flab and wrinkles the better.
“You
have just made me realise how lucky I am, Mum. I have achieved so much in my
life already and I have so much to be grateful for.”
“Yes,
half the world seems to be at war, stricken by tragedy and devastation beyond
our comprehension.” exclaimed her mother.
Genevieve’s
true passions were travelling and photography. She had travelled extensively to
many remote areas, which had taught her humility. Her unique photography hung
proudly on many walls at local exhibitions and gift shops for all to admire.
Genevieve excited everyone when she talked about her travels, making their eyes
light up with envy and delight.
“My
camera was always my best friend and the perfect travelling companion. It never
talked back, it was never bitchy, it never criticised yet it was a very good
listener.”
Her
mother starting laughing on the other end of the phone.
“Oh
yes, Genevieve, you used to exhaust me and you still do. You love all the bright
colours that emphasise your colourful and open outlook on life.”
“I
hope that is a virtue, Mum.”
Her
mother coughed and paused before continuing.
“You
have a huge heart, Genevieve, but you’re oversensitive at times.”
“Doesn’t
that mean I am compassionate and caring?” retorted Genevieve.
“You
must have inherited all those good qualities from me!” exclaimed her mum.
Chuckling,
Genevieve replied, “Yes, I’m a softie just like you, Mum. Remember all the
movies we’ve cried through together? We’d be choked with emotion and would
empty the entire tissue box.”
“I
don’t know whether to laugh or cry right now, my darling daughter. You are
such a deep and meaningful person, anxious to make your mark in the world. And
you know what? I’m sure you will.”
“Thanks
Mum for believing in me, but you are my greatest fan – and of course
biased.”
“I’m
allowed to be. I’m your mother”
“Yes,
I believe everyone in the world is unique with their own special gift to give. I
think it is so sad that most people take all their life to find out what their
special gift is and then die without leaving their special something behind
them. I am determined not to be one of them. I want to make my life count.”
“Well
argued and I agree. You can count me in too, dear.”
“You
read me like a book, don’t you Mum?”
It
was the common, every day courtesies that really mattered to Genevieve. The
little things that were taken for granted and often forgotten, really made her
tick and pulled at her heartstrings. It was the occasional words of
acknowledgment, encouragement, praise or even a simple ‘thank you’ that
meant the world to her and touched her heart.
Call her insecure if you like, but her emotions were raw and real,
straight from the heart. In fact,
everything Genevieve did was from the heart – she spoke from the heart, wrote
from the heart, felt from the heart and acted from the heart.
If something was troubling her, she had to speak the truth, no matter the
consequences. Her values and
principles were so important and strong to her that she would go out on a limb
to help someone, or even lose her job if she thought a situation was unfair or
wrong. As far as Genevieve was concerned, without values and principles, she was
nobody and not worth anything. She would always fight for what she believed in,
and fight hard.
“What
brought all this on?” said her mother. “It’s been such a long time since
we spoke so frankly to each other. I feel like you are sitting right next to me.
If you were, I would reach out and give you a big hug. Is something troubling
you?”
“No,
I just felt like a meaningful conversation with someone. You must have read my
mind by ringing me out of the blue so early in the morning. I have been feeling
a bit lonely lately. I guess maybe I’m a bit nervous about my new role as
chief executive officer.” However, Genevieve knew deep down inside that it was
much more than that.
“Well,
don’t be. That is why I rang you. I remembered you have your first
presentation and book launch this week, in Jake’s absence, and I just wanted
to wish you the best of luck.”
“Thanks
mum. Up until now, I feel I’ve
spent half my lucky, adventurous life just finding out who I am, what I am good
at and what I really want to do with my life!”
“Well
now you have found out.”
“I know how precious my family are to me – my rock to lean on, the
fuel to put in my tank, my lifeline to the future.
My family are all I have in this world”
“I
know you felt your friends had faded away since your divorce and you felt
betrayed but you shouldn’t feel that way.
They were genuinely concerned about you.”
“I
know that now mum. I have finally
released all my built-up guilt and forgiven myself.
It just took some time. All I
need right now is the love and bond
I share with you, dad, sis and the kids.”
“They
aren’t kids any more, Genevieve, they’re young adults. Your son’s just
turned twenty-one and your gorgeous daughter is nearly twenty. Don’t worry
about them. They have their own lives to lead. Shortly you won’t even have any
children around you. That is why it’s important to build your own life now and
do what you really want. You must make decisions for yourself now and not for
other people. Don’t underestimate their love; they will support you no matter
what, just like you support them. They want you to be happy.”
“Oh
thanks for making everything seem so simple. I see it all much clearer now. I am
starting to feel all teary and emotional so I’ll go before I cry. We will
speak again soon. I love you Mum.”
“I
love you too sweetheart. Dad and I are so proud of you right now. Good luck.”
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