The power was out at the shopping centre and they could not cash up her purchases, so she had to wait two hours until the council could fix the electrical fault, so it was already dark when she got back to the plot. She had a piece of the pie she had got at the bakery and put on the kettle for some tea. The Jasmine tea was out of the question and even the Ceylon tea didn't appeal to her. 'If I had coffee I would drink that, I swear,' she murmured. 'I'm going to have that dragon tea. I don't care about that daytime only mumbo jumbo,' she said. Surprisingly, the strong tea seemed to calm her, and she fell into a deep sleep on the veranda, waking sometime in the early morning to stumble off to bed. Two days later she was in the town collecting mail from her agent at the post office, when she again met Rita. 'You're looking a bit happier, Rita,' Beth said. 'Well, I know it's nasty of me, but I'm glad Dan Hamilton had that fire,' Rita replied. 'What fire?' Beth asked. 'Oh, of course, you don't stay in town. Two nights ago, one of his cornfields burnt down and part of one of his barns burnt too. The one where he kept the dogs; and they all escaped too,' Rita replied. 'He tried to blame it on arson, but there was no evidence, so the sheriff wouldn't consider it. He deserves it for the way he treats those dogs.’ Beth let Rita babble on about some dance she was arranging in support of the Save the Rhino Federation and how it was going to be the occasion of the year. Sandy Jones and The Beer Bottle Band were going to be playing some of their biggest hits, she said. 'Who?' Beth asked. 'Don't tell me you haven't heard them! They are the most popular country music band in the country,' Rita said, amazed. 'Everyone knows them! You really should get out more often, you know.'
'I'm sure you're right,' Beth said. ‘I'll try to make it to the show. I have to go down to the post office now to collect some mail from my publisher, so I'll catch you later.’ 'You work too hard,' Rita said. 'You really should make time for the show.' 'I'll try my best,' Beth promised. 'I'm sure it will be a success with you assisting with the planning. Bye! See you later.' 'Bye, Rita replied. Erica had enclosed a personal note, explaining some of the requested changes to the manuscript. 'The publisher is just a little quirky about some things,' she wrote. 'I don't think I've ever seen her make so few changes to a manuscript. She obviously liked your story.' That night, relaxing with some wine and an omlette on the veranda, she decided that Rita was partly right — she did need to go out some more. 'I'll go own to that little steakhouse near the river. I haven't had a decent steak for some time and they seem to manage to get a decent oneman-band for background music all the time,’ she decided. The changes to the manuscript took longer than she'd expected, so it was late afternoon before Beth left the house. 'Hmm, I'm starving,’ she said to herself. I was so busy with that manuscript that I forgot to eat. Well, now I can pig out with starters and dessert.' She laughed. 'After all, it's lunch and supper now.' The restaurant was busy, as it always was, but she managed to find a table on the terrace, where she could watch the setting sun light up the river. The performer was a young Latino man playing a Spanish guitar. He was doing a very credible cover of an old Carlos Santana number, when she arrived. She took the crumbed black mushrooms with cheese and garlic sauce as a starter. The cheese was real cheese melted over the mushrooms, with the creamy garlic sauce underneath. 'Superb!' she commented to the waiter. The main course was a chargrilled sirloin steak with a red wine and pepper sauce. A baked potato with garlic butter, some onion rings and a small herb salad completed the repast. (continued further on in this issue)
