Page 11 of Not So Very Sensible

He scanned his memory for other commitments, but nothing sprang to mind. A quick check of his phone calendar didn’t reveal any commitments either. “Looks like you’re in luck.”

Her face lit.

“Apart from youth group, of course.”

“What? Why?”

“You know why.”

She heaved out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t understand why you care more about them than you do about me. Can’t you please take the Friday off?”

“Not unless you tell me why.”

So she told him. And he fought to keep his nose from wrinkling.

He couldn’t think of anything worse. And how that was definitely not something to skip youth group for.

Chapter 3

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I can’t believe we’re here!”

Ellie smiled as she parked the car, then exited to follow her sister to where she stood at the lookout. Katie’s enthusiasm had only escalated the higher up the Blue Mountains they drove. Little towns nestled alongside the railway, the elevation heights denoted on road signposts a fun marker of just how high some of these places were. Katoomba was just over a thousand metres and guaranteed to get snowfall several times a year. But they were at the next town along, where the Hydro Grand Hotel was perched along the side of a cliff, with views down into Megalong Valley.

And it was mega long, she smiled at herself, as she looked down into the extended bowl of scenic vistas. This fine spring day meant the morning mists were less evident than at other times of the year when weather conditions sometimes shrouded the Hydro Grand in fog all day.

“Oh, ‘what are young men to rocks and mountains?’“ Katie declared, in yet another of her Jane Austen quotes she often liked to share. “Gran is just the best for this.” She squealed and raced back to the car, her feet crunching on the gravel. “Hurry up and unlock it, Ellie.”

Ellie did, and they dragged out their luggage and retrieved their coats and handbags and phones from the detritus of the car. “Come on. Let’s check in.”

Two minutes later, they were entering the grand reception room, painted and furnished in dramatic shades of black, white, and wine red. Overhead, a magnificent dome surrounded with stained glass admitted light, all the better to show off the period-precise ornamentation around the room. The hotel had been built in the late 1800s and had undergone several sympathetic renovations since, the most recent leaning into its 1920s heritage when the Hydro Grand Hotel had been the hotel of significance in Australia. Everyone from operatic star Dame Nellie Melba to internationally renowned authors Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie had stayed here, the latter of whom was being celebrated at this upcoming Saturday night’s Clue-Done-It soiree. Which naturally meant a shopping expedition to the local op shops to see if an appropriate dress could be found to fit the art deco vibe.

Regardless, Ellie was thankful for the time to get away. And even though Katie might be on a high right now, Ellie was hopeful that she’d enjoy the weekend without too many dramas. Please, Lord. As for herself, she planned a weekend of reading, sketching, and movies. And scouring the local op shops for a Studio Ghibli–inspired sketch or two, or the Georgette Heyer book she was missing from her collection.

The receptionist checked them in and pointed them in the direction of their room, and they trundled their suitcases through a magnificent stately lounge painted in dark colours with gold accents. A fire was roaring in the huge marble fireplace, and several couples sat drinking tea, reading newspapers.

“Oh, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time!” Katie squealed.

“I’m sure that’s the idea.”

Their three nights’ stay included a special afternoon tea on Friday, as well as the Clue-Done-It dinner on Saturday, and breakfast each day. But the other meals were probably a little pricey. Maybe if they had breakfast late enough, they wouldn’t need lunch and they could save some dollars that way. Regardless, Gran’s gift had been very generous, and Ellie knew she should savour each moment.

They used the key card to unlock their door, and Katie squealed again. The room wasn’t overly large, being located in the old part of the hotel. But it was big enough to boast two single beds and an art deco–inspired bathroom with a huge round mirror and a rolled top bathtub. “It’s so beautiful!” Katie cried, flopping down on the bed. “I feel like a movie star.”

“Well, you’d better bring your luggage inside if you don’t want someone stealing it from the corridor.”

“Oh. Right.” Katie hurried out, then dragged her large purple bag inside. “It’s so heavy.”

“It wouldn’t be if you’d packed less clothes.”

“But how am I supposed to know what I’ll need to wear?”

“I think the most important thing is that we’re warm enough.”

“Come on. You know we have to dress up for the dinner, right? I’d like to do better than the costumes from the party place.”

“And we’ll get something, I’m sure.”

Katie eyed her. “I still think you should dye your hair. Women didn’t have blue hair in the 1920s.”