When I was 21, I spent 2 years in England. I had a fabulous time, riding a bike around the countryside, holidaying in Spain, Austria, Paris. It was hard to settle down when I came home to Bayside Melbourne. Australian streets are so wide compared to the hedgerows of England. It was like coming home to the Wild West. It took years to settle back into a comfortable lifestyle. It was the same now after spending 10 weeks in Europe. This latest trip could not compare to the first, when I was young and Europe was less crowded, but it was still exciting. You do something different every day when you are abroard, back home I was just bored. I forgot the night with the gigalo the minute I left Sorrento. The night lost its reality, I did not think of Mauritzio again.

I renovated my flat, that kept me interested for a while but I had a basic discontent. On a whim I bought a puppy - a chihuahua jack russell cross. Jack. He was no trouble at all. House trained himself in a minute, an hours walk on the beach in the morning, slept on the couch for the rest of the day. No trouble at all. So I bought another pup. Georgie Girl! Jack was black and tan and George was a tan and white foxy jack russell cross. She was so cute. The first day I left her alone she ate through the rung of an antique chair. The second day she ate through the legs of the bedside tables, the third day I came home to a flat full of orange stuff and George was panting, exhausted. She had got into the end of the double bed and removed all the stuffing; the bed was now just wire with material stretched over it. Not comfortable! Jacks eyes were wide. You could see him saying "I told her not to Mum". George just looked at me sweetly and said "I really need a house in the country". I put the flat on the market and rented on the Mornington Peninsula while I built George the house of her dreams.

Georgie's dream house is a red brick cottage. It has 2 bedrooms with a passage down the middle, so that when you come to the front door you see straight out to the garden. The difference between an old cottage and a modern cottage is that the rooms are spacious. The garden is huge and I have to keep working to support it. It has a large central bed with
a fountain in the middle, the fountain has a mermaid on the top and the water comes out of a shell she is holding. The fences are festooned with roses and clematis and ornamental grapevines and their are 7 manchurian pear trees dotted around plus apple trees and crabapples. Georgie is very happy here and so am I.

I should tell you a bit about Jack. For me he is the perfect dog. All he asks of life is that he be fed and allowed to love me. However, he has bitten 54 people at the last count. The only reason he survives is that being a chihuahua his bites are small and he has beautiful teeth. I have a kiddi-gate halfway down the passage ,so that friends can come in safely while I deal with him. The laundry has a doggie door out to a white fenced area, with a wisteria arch and we call it Jacky's office. Jacky hates it and now when anyone comes to the door, he hides under the table, which is good, because he doesnt try to bite them until they leave and I pick him up then. I had a dog wisperer out to him ($600) and he said that because Jacky is the only male living in the house, he feels he has to protect George and me. And because he is so small, he thinks his best option is to bite first. I have a neighbour who calls in every day for a cuppa, he loves Mary and doesnt really want to bite her but he feels obliged, so what he does is, he waits until she is safely on the other side of the kiddi gate and goes for her then. Despite all this, lots of friends come and stay with me in the country and if they are staying the night he doesnt bite them. Makes no attempt at all. Embraces them. Would probably protect them if necessary. Feels they are part of the family.

I was pulling up weeds one day when my friend Cathy rang; would I like to come to lunch at her place, as her bestie from school, who lives and works in New York, is visiting her mother in Melbourne and wants to catch up. I didnt know Barbara at school but I said yes anyway.

We sat out by the pool for lunch because it was such a lovely Spring day. Cathy served smoked salmon, with a dollop of caviar on top, inside a crisp iceberg lettuce leaf with horseradish on the side. This was accompanied by rye bread, unsalted butter and French Champagne.

I asked Barbara what she did in New York.
"Oh I am personal assistant to Charles Carter. He runs a chain of shops throughout America. A mini empire really. Clothes, home decor, that sort of thing. Its a wonderful job, wonderful perks".
"Like what?" I asked.
"Well, he has seasons tickets to the ballet, the opera, he is invited to all the art exhibitions, everything of note really. He doesnt go, he's divorced, so I take the tickets and I go. I take a friend, people are used to seeing me everywhere, I guess I fall into that category of someone who goes to the opening of an envelope". She laughed at herself, and added "I love it".

"Has he been divorced long?" I asked.
"Years" she said, tucking into her salmon. "I dont think his marriage lasted a year. There was a child, poor little Kristine, she was more or less brought up by the cook and the gardener, at Charles country house".
"Where is she now?" I asked.
"Funny you should ask" replied Barbara , "Kristine is 25 and if you had asked me where she was, at any time during the last 10 years, I couldnt have told you. As it happens, she's in Italy now, Sorrento".

"Oh" I said "I visited Sorrento a few years ago".

Barbara looked interested. "Ive not been to Italy" she said. "Ive not been anywhere much really, outside New York. We only have about 10 days holiday a year in America, and I always come back to Australia to see my mother".

"So Kristine doesnt work in her fathers business?" I asked.

"Certainly not" replied Barbara "the poor girl's a drug addict. Her mother left the minute she was born. There were a series of nannies but in the end, her care fell to the cook. She married shortly after she finished school, that didnt work, Charles lawyer, Phillip, had the marriage annulled. Then she became a bit of a rock groupie, married an American rock singer, he died of a heroin overdose, she nearly died too but gave birth to a child first, Charles had her put into rehab after that."

"What happened to the child?" I asked.

Barbara looked slightly embarrassed. "There was a bit of skulduggery Im afraid. Between Charles and the hospitals Medical Director. The child was adopted out, legally, to a woman with 2 little boys. A widow. Good woman. She used to come and feed babies at the hospital while her kids were at school. Apparently, babies born of drug addicts are jittery at birth, withdrawing from the drugs. Women come in and feed them and cuddle them, because hospital staff dont have the time."

"And is Kristine still a drug addict?" I asked.

"I dont know" answered Barbara. "I worry about her a bit. I used to take her out sometimes, when she was in New York on school breaks. She was such a pale, sad little thing. She stayed in rehab for nearly a year. I just kept on paying the bills. Charles was happy. She was safe there, but a few weeks ago, she just up and left, and ever since credit card accounts are coming in left, right and centre, from Sorrento."

"What are the accounts for"? asked Cathy "drugs?".

"No" answered Barbara "beauty salons, Prada, Max Mara. Things Kristine has never bothered with in her life. She has a private fortune she's never touched. Phillip brought the accounts over to me, to shed some light, but I knew nothing. I showed them to Charles, he hardly looked at them, just said "give them to Phillip". You'd think he didnt care about her at all", Barbara looked very concerned, you could see this situation bothered her considerably, then she added "but of course he does. He and Phillip have had a terrible row. Charles has, just recently, made his will. He's left his entire estate, private fortune and business, to Kristine. Phillip is furious".

"But she is his only daughter" said Cathy indignantly , "who else would he leave it too?"

"The private fortune maybe", Barbara allowed, "but not the business. Hundreds of people earn their living from Carters, you cant leave it to a drug addict. Even if she is off drugs, she's had no training and she is not a stable girl".

"Oh well, its none of our business" said Cathy, anxious to bring the conversation back to our own world. She gathered up our plates and took them inside, insisting that she did not need help.

"Just tell me " I said to Barbara "what is the name of the hotel these accounts are coming from?"

She told me the name but I already knew it, it was my hotel and Kristine was one of Mauritzios "unhappy ladies", Id put money on it!