The long weekend was Melanie’s idea. Not the long weekend itself, of course, but the way they should spend it.
‘No mobile phones, no social media, no computers or devices of any sort,’ she said, ‘just the five of us alone in the wilderness, living the way people did forty years ago.’
‘Sixty, more like,’ Tracy remarked drily.
Mel ignored the comment. Trace was always the cynic among them. ‘Three days in a remote mountain cabin – communing with nature, hiking along bush tracks, gathering around log fires . . .’
‘Burning fossil fuel –’
‘Wood’s not a fossil fuel,’ Eve interjected.
‘Polluting the atmosphere anyway –’
‘Oh shut up, Trace,’ Danny said good-naturedly; she was all for Melanie’s idea. ‘Go on, Mel,’ she encouraged.
‘If we leave straight after work on the Friday, we could be up there by seven – it’s only a couple hours’ drive.’
‘A long-weekend Friday?’ Tracy again. ‘The traffic’ll be hell.’
‘Then if we’re prepared to get up at sparrow’s on the Tuesday and come directly into work, we’ll have three full days,’ Mel rattled on. ‘And I tell you what, a full three days up there feels like a week. Even more.’
Tracy’s sceptical glance said, I’ll just bet it does, but in her droll way she was only being amusing. A sophisticated thirty-two, she found twenty-five-year-old Mel’s childlike enthusiasm quite endearing.
‘At least it did when I was a kid,’ Mel concluded.
They all took a swig of their drinks and gazed out at the view from the yacht club’s balcony as they gave the matter a moment’s thought…
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