Avoiding Mr Right by Anita Heiss Read Free Book Online

limit didn't. I was
driving like the old lady the car belonged to. Even though
other drivers were passing me and shaking their heads, I
knew that Aunt knew every scratch on Gemma and I didn't
plan on getting another one.
    It was a steaming hot day and the area was crowded. I
drove along the Esplanade looking for a park, finding one
immediately outside the St Kilda Sea Baths, but there were
coin-only parking meters and I didn't have any change.
There was no change in the ashtray, just too many butts. I
was glad I was giving up smoking. It really was a disgusting
habit. Scratching around the car and the bottom of my
handbag looking for change, I was getting really frustrated,
just as I did back in Sydney, where parking meters at some
beaches only took credit cards. I recalled being outraged the
first time I had to use one at Bronte, and thought it was a
very strategic way of keeping Blackfellas off the beach, as
most didn't have credit cards. Now I had a wallet full of
cards, but no change. I didn't want to lose my spot, nor did
I want to get a ticket, so I looked pathetic and desperate as
I approached a man sitting in a white van nearby.
    'Excuse me, you wouldn't have some change, would you?'
    'Sure, what do you need, love?' he said in a friendly tone.
    'I've got five in change, need another two – can you
change five dollars?' I held out the note.
    'Can't break it, sorry, but here's the two dollars to make
up the difference.'
    'Oh, really, thanks, that's very kind of you.'
    'Pay it forward.' I turned to walk away, and he called
back, 'Oh, and nice legs.'
    It was going to be a hard task to avoid the men in
Melbourne, they were friendly and cheeky, but were my
'nice legs' only worth two dollars? I was almost tempted to
try again to see if I could do better.
    I still had time before the first open-for-inspection, so I
took a walk around the Sea Baths precinct. It was too early
for a drink, so I got a green tea to settle my nerves and sat
under an orange umbrella at Beachcomber Cafe and just
looked out to the pier and the marina. I took a photo on my
phone and sent a text to the girls and to James. He wouldn't
know it was a group text, unless he asked Alice.
    At St Kilda havin cuppa bout 2 find new flat. Wish u were here!
Luv ya, Px
    I was starting to relax, feeling right at home among all the
couples eating breakfast, the mothers and the fathers having
time out together on the weekend, and then I heard him: a
noisy, crying, whining, bawling, complaining brat.
    I got up and strolled around the building reading the
signs; there was a wellness centre, a tanning studio, a health
club and a 'Day Spa Dreaming'. I was too scared to go in,
just in case it was one of those places that tries to sell a
'traditional Indigenous experience' without any Indigenous
involvement in the process at all. Like the Native Americans'
dream catchers and medicine wheels, completely bastardised
by hippies up the north coast who mass-produced them,
probably believing they'd been Indigenous in a past life.
I wasn't sure what 'dreaming' would be offered in the
luxurious day spa, other than the obvious dreaming you'd
do if you fell asleep during a relaxing massage.
    As I walked along Jacka Boulevard, my phone went, and
it was James.
    'Got your message, how's it going?'
    'I'm just walking towards the first unit and I'm laughing
at the palm trees that line the street like an attempted Venice
Beach.' I half expected to see some bikini-clad rollerblader
zoom past me any minute. I didn't, but a red Golf passed me
and I thought of Alice back there in Coogee and I smiled.
'I'm here now, gotta go, I'll call you later.'
    'Love you, babe.'
    'You too.' And I hung up.
    The first unit I entered on Grey Street had a hot young
agent in a pale linen suit showing people through. I liked
the space as soon as I walked in. I wanted it. It would
be perfect. One bedroom, newly renovated kitchen and
bathroom, with a small