Round and Around

By Julie McCarron-Benson

Belle Saint James is absolutely outraged! After all she has done to help her best friend Sylvie Sutton! She finds Sylvie’s diary in which Sylvie is slagging off at Belle and whining that belle is not helping her!

Sylvie is looking for her niece Nandi whom they all think may have joined a cult. Sylvie has gone on the road, travelling from one market and country show after another, masquerading as a fortune teller in an attempt to locate the cult and Nandi. Sylvie’s friends Belle and Clara-Rose Duggan do their best to help with finances and visiting, but Sylvie Is often difficult to help. And because it is Sylvie, who could find a man on the moon, there is man complications as well!

Belle needs to maintain her business as a wedding coordinator and she misses Sylvie’s support as her main marriage celebrant. Sylvie’s quest is very expensive for Belle.
Will Belle and Sylvie’s friendship survive the adventure?
Does Nandi want to be found?
Why has she joined a cult?
And can they rescue her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julie McCarron-Benson
• Release date: Oct 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370938667

Julie McCarron-Benson

Julie McCarron-Benson grew up in Canowindra, a small town in the central west of NSW, Australia. She attended Canowindra Public School and Cowra High School, moved to Canberra as a school leaver to work in the Commonwealth Public Service, went nursing, got married, had three kids and went to the Australian National University. She has worked amongst other positions as a shop assistant, a movie usher, a security guard and a professional carer. She worked for several NGOs. She opened a café, set up a business manufacturing gourmet foods, and established an event management business specialising in wedding coordination. She has held art exhibitions. Julie would prefer to read, loves gardening and attending the opera. Her many friends ensure that her alcohol tolerance level remains comparatively high.

Book preview

Round and Around

Julie McCarron-Benson grew up in Canowindra, a small town in the central west of NSW, Australia. She attended Canowindra Public School and Cowra High School, moved to Canberra as a school leaver to work in the Commonwealth Public Service, went nursing, got married, had three kids and went to the Australian National University. She has worked amongst other positions as a shop assistant, a movie usher, a security guard and a professional carer. She used to work for several NGOs. She opened a café, set up a business manufacturing gourmet food, and established an event management business specializing in wedding coordination. She has held art exhibitions. Julie would prefer to read, loves gardening and attending the opera. Her many friends ensure that her alcohol tolerance level remains comparatively high.

Round and Around

Julie McCarron-Benson

Copyright© 2017 Julie McCarron-Benson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 9780994625823 (e-book)

Dewey Number: A823.3

Dedicated to good friends

Other titles by the author

Snatch and Grab

Hide and Seek

Rule of Thumb

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 1

Dearest Diary.

I have had the worst day. Absolutely, absolutely the pits. It was horrible. And it’s all Belle’s fault! I can’t believe I allowed myself to be talked into this. I really can’t believe I fell for it. How could I have been so stupid? She said she’d help. A fat lot of help she is. Oh, oh, I shouldn’t have said FAT. Belle is very sensitive about the ‘f’ word. I think she’s over-sensitive, it’s not like as though she’s really fat, well, really, she’s more plump. Very plump. How about generous then? Or largish? Big? Or even, Junoesque? No, no, it’s definitely better not to use the ‘f’ word around Belle. And, it’s such a long, long way around as well!

It’s not my fault that she would make two of me, or maybe even three. Everyone comments on how tiny I am. I am very petite. I’ve always been petite. It isn’t fair that Belle gets upset about being ‘f’. I heard her once at a function when I was talking to someone else. She said ‘Will someone shut up that anorexic dwarf.' I know she thinks I talk too much. I do talk too much. I can talk, eat and smoke all at the same time. And, still not put on any weight. That’s what gets up Belle’s nose. She only has to look at food, and she puts on weight. Still, I think it was very mean of her to call me anorexic. I’m not. I’m just little. My mum said I was slightly made. My first husband called me a delicate bundle, a pocket Venus.

Belle says she doesn’t know why I say it was all her fault. She says all I do is whinge and after all she’s done and the trouble she’s taken. What trouble I’d like to know? I’m the one that’s in trouble. I’m the one that’s stuck out here all day by myself, never knowing where I’ll be next! While her life just continues on without a hitch! She said she would make sure that she would come and see how I was going, but isn’t it strange that something is always coming up and she can’t get away to give me a break?

She has no idea what it has been like. I’d been doing this for months!!!!! And I was sick of it after one week. She did get here that first time, but she complained the whole time how hard the wedding had been for her that weekend. She gets paid, doesn’t she? She’s supposed to be the professional wedding coordinator, after all!! She’s got to expect the odd wedding not to run to plan, or to her plans ‘cos I’m not sure how much say the couple get in their wedding for all Belle’s assurances that she explores their innermost wedding day wishes!

Almost the very next time when I was hanging out for her to come, she said she couldn’t get away because her eldest daughter had arrived home unexpectedly with the new husband. He’s got some weird name, Kal-el, like in the comic-book hero. Belle thought his name was K.L. at first, you know Diary, just the initials.

She said he was as thick as two planks and she started referring to him as Koala Lumper. That’s a bit mean, isn’t it? It’s not as though it’s his fault he has the brain of a goldfish. I know it nearly broke Belle’s heart when she got the emails from her daughter to say she was married, and she’d only known the new husband for three days. She’d met him on one of those youth adventure package deal holidays. Belle said he looked incredibly handsome, some sort of a male model and Jasmine, that’s Belle’s eldest daughter, had always been a bit impetuous. Belle said she couldn’t just up and leave as Jasmine had invited her new in-laws to stay at Belle’s as well, without checking with Belle first I think. Belle’s younger daughter Katina came home to meet the new brother-in-law, she’s away at university, there’s something weird about that too, and there was nowhere for her to sleep, so she had to go to Pen’s place. Penleigh is Belle’s son, who has attached himself to the most awful of women, Dominique. I don’t often speak ill of anyone as you know Diary, but Holy Smoke she is a nasty piece of work! Poor Katina got it in the neck from Dominique for all the inconvenience she caused by needing somewhere to sleep. And they’ve got a five-bedroom house for heaven’s sake! Belle said the place is pristine. She’s only been to visit the once, for coffee, and she was sure that Dominique whipped the plastic covers off just before she arrived and put them back on the moment Belle went out the door. Belle was a bit upset over the whole thing all round I think.

Then, the next time, after promising she’d visit me, she gets sick! Now I know that Belle rarely gets sick and when she does it's serious. Still, it’s a bit odd her getting sick when she was going to visit me.

Then, when she finally visits me, she’s tired, and has to have a sleep! She kept complaining that she was tired. She’s tired! She ought to be doing what I’m doing to know what tired means! She said she hadn’t realized that a six hour drive each way would be part of the deal. She did let me use the ensuite attached to her motel room while she slept. It was lovely to have a bath, lots and lots of lovely hot water. I hadn’t realized how much I needed my privacy and the luxury of a nice bath. It turned out to be not too bad because we went out dinner and had a proper meal, you know meat and three veg. Usually, I just have some takeaway and stretch it out over a few days or some of that reconstituted stuff. So, that was nice, and it was lovely to have someone to talk to for a while. She had thought to pack some wine and some fresh clothes for me. But she had to leave the next morning to get home in time to check her office.

But still, isn’t fair! I wouldn’t have gotten into any trouble today if it wasn’t for her.

‘I like that! That’s gratitude for you,’ I muttered to myself. ‘First, she’s slagging me off about my weight, and then she’s complaining because I’m not able to jump to her demands.’ We’d finally found her caravan in the miserable little town caravan park. And now she wasn’t even here!!! I’d had to scratch around the kitchenette trying to find some coffee or tea. We’d left without eating breakfast first. Typical of Sylvie she hadn’t even bothered to provide any of the usual food necessities! The exercise book was lying on the bed. The moment I saw the book, I knew what it was! The idiot was keeping a diary! Again! After all the trouble, last time!

Marcel came through the door as I flicked the exercise book in my fingers. He had taken the opportunity after ensuring that Sylvie wasn’t there, to make a quick visit to the facilities. I quickly closed the exercise book.

’Find anything?’ he asked.

‘No, she hasn’t left a note. But there is this!’ I thrust the exercise book towards Marcel. ‘Another Diary! You’d think she’d have learned by now. We’d better have a look at what’s in it. She might have written down where she was going?’ He sat down on the bed beside me and stretched out.

‘I’m not really comfortable with reading that, Belle,’ he said. ‘There might be stuff in there she wouldn’t like me to know. You read it and tell me what you think is important.’

‘Well, she isn’t very discreet,’ I agreed. ‘I saw the last one. I’d have thought she’d have learned her lesson. And Marcel, the first thing I read is her putting me down just because I once admitted to some slight envy regarding her very insignificant and undeveloped size. As for her being delicate - tough as boot leather would be how I would describe her. And, and, ... I couldn’t get away - she knows I can’t get away. She knows I have to do things,’ my voice petering away as I contemplated the sheer injustice of her accusations.

If I don’t do my job, there is no money coming in. After all, I’m financing her on this mad expedition. I’m a wedding coordinator. Organising a wedding doesn’t just happen the day before, as Sylvie well knows. I can’t just down tools and run after Sylvie! Weddings still tend to take place on Saturdays. Then I usually have a stack of cleaning up things to do on the Sunday after. Organising a wedding starts from the moment the couple makes up their mind to get married and contract me to organize their wedding for them. There are so many and varied facets that have to put into place to make the wedding ceremony and reception go smoothly. And, I have to keep booking in future couples while I organize the current ones. I can’t just take days off, willy-nilly. Bloody Sylvie knows that! How dare she complain about my work ethic. She ought to know better! She’s a marriage celebrant and is usually the celebrant of choice at my weddings.

We’d first met up as mature-aged students at the university. There were three of us who still hung out together, Sylvie Sutton and me and Clara-Rose Duggan. Poor Clara-Rose had been named after both her Irish Grandmothers. She wasn’t prepared to hurt their feelings by taking another name, like Debbie or Mandy or something cute that Sylvie and I would select for her from time to time. Some people occasionally called her CR! We had been through some sticky patches, but affection and shared experiences kept us close. My, err, umm, lover, Marcel (Mark) Smith, Vietnam veteran, ex-police officer and now private investor was once briefly partnered to Sylvie. He swears that it was all over between him and her before we got together. Sylvie maintains that I took him from her! She isn’t joking! Sylvie is very excellent at holding a grudge. She and Marcel sort of circle each other when they meet up.

I thought about the inconvenience this escapade of Sylvie’s was causing me. I’d had a terrible time with alternative celebrants for the weddings for which Sylvie had been booked. I’d had to find someone else. There are not all that many celebrants with free time. The first one I had found was someone whom I will never have again. Ever! In fact, I might report him if I work out how to go about it. Once upon a time getting a license as a marriage celebrant was dependent upon a political whim, much as appointments as a Justices-of the-Peace once were. Quite a lot of people obtained their appointment as a political favour. Everything has been more or less cleaned up now, but a few remain from that corrupt era. The chap I got was one of those. He seemed to think he was doing us all favour, tried to organize the wedding around himself, demanded an outrageous fee until I dealt with him firmly. Then he hung around for a feed at the reception and tried to take over the job as Master of Ceremonies.

I managed to keep what was going on away from the attention of the young couple and their families. As the last straw, I’d had to get the security at the reception venue to pour him into a taxi. It wasn’t just that he had drunk all the wine from the surrounding tables, nor that he had leered at the female guests and made disgusting suggestions. Every so often I have guests at weddings who behave equally badly. It was that after I had gotten rid of him in the taxi for which I had to pay, I found he had left a tab for spirits at the bar! I’d had to pay for that as well!

Then the next one was a born-again! He thought the civil marriage was an opportunity to postulate for his fundamentalist church. It was a bit of a surprise as he had not said anything nor had anything about him suggested his subsequent behaviour. He has gone through the ceremony exactly as the couple had set out. It was only when the legal bit was over that he burst into a long-winded homily about sin, divorce, cleaving onto the other, you get the idea. I couldn’t shut him up! The bride and groom and guests were all a bit bemused. When he finally finished, I led a rousing round of applause and laughed as though it was a performance. The guests thought it was a satirical comic act taking the mickey out of religious weddings.

I had finally found a celebrant who did an OK job. Not as good as Sylvie, although I wouldn’t dare tell Sylvie that, but one that does a reasonable job. I missed Sylvie’s take on what she observed. I could have done with her professional insights there, a couple of times. Weddings are amazing for the way the families interact. There is always a surprise.

I went back to reading the diary, her accusations still smarting.

‘And … There’s a man in this!’ I announced to Marcel’.

‘She hasn’t had time’ he answered astounded, sitting bolt upright on the bed in the little caravan. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Belle!’

‘Marcel, Sylvie only uses the word trouble when there are men around. She’d find one on the moon. And she’s still whingeing. She never takes responsibility for her actions, now she’s blaming me,’ I whinged to Marcel.

‘I’d rather not hang around here Belle,’ Marcel interrupted me. He was edgy. It had been a long drive, and he’d been very tired before we started. I was very tired as well. I’d had to leave a dreadful situation to come to Sylvie, but I couldn’t bear her complaining anymore. Marcel had kindly offered to drive me. ‘It’s getting late, hurry up and see if she’s written anything useful about where she may be. I need something to eat and a quick sleep.’

Diary, Dearest Diary, I am so excited! At last, something to report. Not much and nothing like definite information that Nandi is with them. Finally, someone has said they may have had heard of them. It’s been so hard trying to find some evidence of something that may not exist. One of the other stall holders, Honeysuckle-Jade, the girl from the crystals stall, she told me that she had been approached by what sounds like recruiters from a cult some time back. She said it was all very persuasive and believable, an attractive lifestyle without care or responsibility, but she had felt uneasy and told them she had too many family responsibilities to leave. She said they didn’t pressure her, they were very pleasant and went on their way. They come past the markets quite regularly, she said. If they see her at any of the markets, they always greeted her. She said if she sees them again, she’ll let me know.

It was hard to pretend that I was just showing a mild, polite, passing interest and not follow my protective instincts and press for more information. It would be dreadful if she tipped them off somehow that I or someone was looking for them

Honeysuckle-Jade and I sometimes have coffee together. I was so lucky she liked me. Through her friendship, I have been accepted by all the other stall holders. No-one asks a lot of questions as to where you have been the rest of your life. I find their very lack of curiosity interesting. It has awakened my research antennae. It was as though a life outside the market life, the here and now, had no interest or meaning. It might be something I can follow-up on later if there is time. Honeysuckle-Jade is very funny. I asked her about her unusual name.

She said it was certainly a conversation starter and it had been an absolute bugger when