Abbie Brown: On the Cusp

By Carmel Liddell

Abbie Brown kicks off her 34th year with an unexpected splash of fame: her Santorini vacation snap, featuring her in a vibrant yellow bikini atop a donkey, is plastered on billboards across London. (For clarity, the bikini is on Abbie, not the donkey!) Riding this wave of newfound celebrity, she lands a spot on Sir Giles Bromley’s BBC gardening show. Life seems perfect, until the universe serves her a slice of humble pie.

Navigating the chaos of single life (weighing in at 73kgs, if you must know), Abbie finds herself in the midst of an office medical drama, dealing with her nightmare flatmate Janice, and questioning if Rebecca truly is the refined acquaintance she seems. As for romance? Between George’s overbearing mother, Oliver’s youth, a married butcher, a BBC exec with a cringe-worthy habit, and the not-so-perfect ‘Peter Perfect,’ Abbie’s love life is a rollercoaster. Yet, she remains hopeful that her knight in shining armor is out there in the vast English countryside.

In the midst of it all, she gains a furry companion: Woofer, a lovable terrier with a quirky ear. Plus, there’s a promising spark with a dashing farmer from the Yorkshire Dales. The two are smitten. (We’re talking about Abbie and the farmer, not the dog, of course!)

But with Abbie’s track record, what could possibly go awry? Dive into a tale of unexpected fame, comedic misadventures, and the quest for true love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781035844852

Carmel Liddell

Carmel Liddell’s latest novel, Abbie Brown: On the Cusp, explores the life and times of 34-year-old Abbie (single – 73kgs), who is looking for love. Having been there, and done that, Carmel tells the tale with a great deal of humour, affection and understanding. The Australian author’s other books include Short Stories A-Z – 2023 Love and Kisses Pauline xxx – 2022 Reggie Carstairs: Behind Closed Eyes – 2021 The Beachmaster (Childrens’ Picture Book) - 2026

Book preview

About the Author

Carmel Liddell’s latest novel, Abbie Brown: On the Cusp, explores the life and times of 34-year-old Abbie (single – 73kgs), who is looking for love.

Having been there, and done that, Carmel tells the tale with a great deal of humour, affection and understanding.

The Australian author’s other books include:

Short Stories A-Z – 2023

Love and Kisses Pauline xxx – 2022

Reggie Carstairs: Behind Closed Eyes – 2021

The Beachmaster (Childrens’ Picture Book) - 2026

Copyright Information ©

Carmel Liddell 2023

The right of Carmel Liddell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, 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.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035844845 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035844852 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

A big thank you to those ongoing sources of inspiration, my nearest and dearest.

(You know who you are!)

April

Pin on witchy 1st April. 72 kgs – 33 almost 34 – Single. On the cusp.

How about this for a timely purchase? Yesterday I bought a new journal to record the delights and otherwise of my upcoming thirty-fourth year, but I can’t wait. Would you believe, first thing this morning, Gillian announced the agency is doing an ad campaign for Santorini and she’s taking everyone on a working holiday to the Greek Islands. Yay! How good is that?

Gillian figures photo shoots using real people, in other words, the agency’s employees, will add authenticity to her campaign. Well, she would say that, wouldn’t she? Our chronically stingy Gillian is renowned for keeping a tight rein on the budget. No doubt she’s figured real people work cheaper than professional models. Hmm…Shame on me. That was unkind and unnecessary. Anyway, despite being surrounded by whoops of joy and shining eyes, I’d caught the whiff of a bribe and in that moment, my holier-than-thou inner voice began asking questions. Don’t you hate it when that happens? Inner voices ought to butt out and mind their own business. Still, there it was, the flea in my ear whispering, "Where’s your integrity, Abbie?

Are you going to permit Gillian to use you in an ad campaign?

Be seduced by the carrot she’s dangling in front of your nose?

Sell your soul Ms Brown, for the pure, unadulterated pleasure of dabbling your tootsies in the pristine waters of the Aegean for eight days – all expenses paid?"

And the short answer to my sanctimonious inner voice? Absobloodylutely!

Funny the way things work out, isn’t it? According to my Zodiac sign, people born between the 17th and 23rd of April, the Aries/ Taurus cusp, are on the cusp of power. Well, that’s me. My birthday’s St George’s Day, the 23rd which means I’m currently pre-cusp, but who knows? Perhaps a week’s holiday in Santorini will be the forerunner to great things. Or simply soften the blow of turning thirty-four. Either way, I can’t lose. I remember watching the film Shirley Valentine with Mother years ago, and she was my age when she won Tom Conti’s heart in the Greek Islands. Shirley won Tom Conti’s heart, not my mother, obviously. So, if I’m mooching around Santorini, I could be in with a chance. I wouldn’t say no to a young, lush, Tom Conti lookalike. Hello!

5th April. 72 kgs – single.

First thing this morning, Gillian told us she’d hired an office manager to fill in for her so she can come too, and that we’re being accompanied by a London photographer named George. She then distributed copies of our itinerary. At scheduled times, we’re to scrub up and meet our mini-bus driver in the hotel foyer. He will then escort us to famous sights, landmarks, restaurants and beaches where George will take candid shots of us having fun. Well, I can handle that. Obviously. Piece of cake.

We’re flying out in five days and I’m almost prepared. I’ve bought several knock-out dreamy dresses, beach wear, two, seriously sexy yellow bikinis and tomorrow, because they say Greek men fancy blonde English girls, my stylist is adding caramel lowlights and golden highlights to my hair. How glam is that?

8th April. 72 kgs – single.

Following yesterday’s full and frank appraisal of my holiday wardrobe, including those two hi-cut bikinis, I spent today suffering to be beautiful. Every time I wore killer heels, knowing they would give me blisters, Mother used to say I’d "fallen victim to the youthful folly of suffering to be beautiful." Which I had. And still am because today I subjected myself to a summer essential. Top and tail grooming. The dreadedB & B. Brow shaping and Brazilian wax. Enough said.

10th April. Weight unknown – No scales in Santorini hotel suite. Still single.

How happy am I ensconced in this luxury hotel on the clifftops of Fira?! Everyone was excited about our working holiday, but none more so than Charlie, short for Charlotte, my Australian friend who hasn’t thawed out since winter. We’re sharing a suite which she reckons is the duck’s nuts. I suppose that’s Australian for brilliant. Both our rooms have sweeping views of the sea, white-washed houses, and those blue dome thingies pictured on all the travel brochures.

In the afternoon, we strolled around the town exploring laneways and taking sneaky peeks into the quaint houses decorated with pops of colour on their windows, doors, and shutters. We sent postcards to our parents. Fingers crossed mine arrives before I get home. I’m not casting dispersions on the efficiency of either the Greek or British postal services, but you never know, do you? Later, on the way back to our hotel, we wandered into a bar and beneath swags of crimson bougainvillea, sipped Raspberry Ouzo Slush cocktails. This gig won’t be a doddle, but Charlie and I are easing into it.

Tonight, we dined on a restaurant terrace overlooking the sea. Gillian treated us to the best of Greek everything – with a side of the most spectacular sunset ever. And, whilst being wined, dined, and twirled around the dance floor, I can confirm that what they say is true. Greek men do fancy blonde English girls. And creamy, freckled, Irish redheads. And Australian brunettes who look like they’ve stepped off the cover of Sports Illustrated! Greek men are equal opportunity fanciers. What’s more, a steady influx of tourists guarantees they’re spoilt for choice. Ho-hum.

12th April. Weight unknown – Still 33. Still single.

As it happens, our photographer, George, is of Greek descent but despite speaking the language and looking the part, the locals know he doesn’t belong. To them, he’s just another wide-eyed tourist.

George is super friendly and works informally, taking pictures while we’re relaxed and not wearing stiff, self-conscious smiles. He says, "The camera loves me". I’m being snapped from every angle. Hmm…

13th April. Weight a mystery but I don’t care – Still single.

Absolutely glorious day at the beach! Charlie, whose idyllic childhood was spent as a junior lifesaver on Queensland’s Sunny Coast, was in her element. With no stingers, sharks, or surfing crocodiles to poop her party, she was swimming, paddle-boarding, and tanning with ease. The rest of us flopped about in the water, applied litres of sunscreen, and turned varying shades of pink. When we thought the day couldn’t get any better, lunch arrived. Gillian had ordered a Greek picnic of grilled chicken and tzatziki, followed by a watermelon, feta, and mint salad. How good was that?

By late afternoon, everyone was tired, except for Charlie. There are three ways of getting from the port to our hotel in Fira and Charlie wanted to experience the traditional way – a 60-minute uphill hike! George took a few snaps of her as she disappeared, ponytail switching from side to side, up the steep, winding, Karavolades stairs. Then he turned to me with his winning smile and said he really, really, could do with my help. He wanted pictures of a tourist-laden donkey climbing the stairs. By tourist he meant me. Obviously.

However, while I was being helpful, straddling a donkey so George could "capture my over-the-shoulder sexy smile", the phrase beasts of burden came to mind. I felt awfully guilty. The donkeys had been ferrying tourists up and down the hill all day. They looked exhausted. And sad. The donkeys, not the tourists. So – instead of being a burden to the beasts, we opted to travel uphill by