Australian Dreams

Fiona McCallum

Fiona McCallum spent her childhood years on the family cereal and wool farm outside a small town on South Australia’s Eyre Peninsula. An avid reader and writer, she decided at the age of nine that she wanted to be the next Enid Blyton! She completed her final years of schooling at a private boarding school in Adelaide.

Having returned to her home town to work in the local council office, Fiona maintained her literary interests by writing poetry and short stories, and studying at TAFE via correspondence. Her ability to put into words her observations of country life saw a number of her feature articles published in the now defunct newspaper SA Statewide.

When her marriage ended, Fiona moved to Adelaide, eventually found romance, and followed it to Melbourne. She returned to full-time study at the age of twenty-six, and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts (Professional Writing) from Deakin University. While studying, she found herself drawn to writing fiction where her keen observation of the human condition and everyday situations could be combined with her love of storytelling.

After brief stints in administration, marketing and recruitment, Fiona started Content Solutions, a consultancy providing professional writing and editing services to the corporate sector. Living with a sales and marketing executive and working on high-level business proposals and tenders has given Fiona great insight into vastly different ways of life.

Fiona continued to develop her creative writing skills by reading widely and voraciously, and attending short courses. In 2001 she realised her true passion lay in writing full-length fiction, and in 2002 completed her first manuscript.

In early 2004 Fiona made the difficult decision to return to Adelaide alone in order to achieve a balanced lifestyle and develop a career as a novelist. She successfully re-established her consultancy, and now enjoys the sharp contrast between her corporate work and creative writing.

Australian Dreams is Fiona’s first novel.

Thanks to family, friends and acquaintances that have provided encouragement – you’ve all played a part in inspiring me.

I am blessed to have a handful of very dear and true friends who have supported me through the many ups and downs of my life, and the pursuit of my dream. Thank you to Calvin McHobbes, Carole and Ken Wetherby, Mel Sabeeney, Arlene Somerville, and the Chiuchiolo family – you all mean the world to me.

Thanks to Andrew Holmes of the Victorian Racing Club and Marilyn Smith of TAFE SA for clarifying some of the technical details of horseracing. Special thanks to Dr Douglas Wilson of the Holistic Veterinary Clinic for being so very generous with his time in providing detailed information around the injury and recovery of my fictitious racehorse. Please go to www.holisticvetonline.com to learn more about Dr Wilson’s fantastic work. Any errors or inaccuracies are my own or due to taking creative liberties.

I was privileged to have the assistance of a fantastic editor – the very talented Lachlan Jobbins. Thank you for your dedication, attention to detail, and for being so easy to work with.

Thanks to Haylee Kerans for seeing the potential in my manuscript and for making my dream a reality, and to everyone else at Harlequin that I haven’t met but who had a hand in turning my loose pages into such a lovely book.

In memory of my father, Tony McCallum, to whom I owe my courage and tenacity.

Claire woke with a jolt and noticed blue and red lights flickering behind the curtains. She checked the time and realised it was after one o’clock. Keith’s side of the bed was still empty.

The doorbell chimed. Alarm gripped her as she dragged her pink towelling dressing gown over her pyjamas. She pounded down the hall, heart racing as scenarios filled her head. It had to be urgent to warrant flashing lights – a break-in, an accident, perhaps a missing child. The poor people; she’d help any way she could.

Claire’s heart ached for those who had to deliver the bad news. Beginnings of conversations ran through her mind as she unlocked the main door.

The female half of the uniformed couple spoke.

‘Claire Louise McIntyre?’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m Senior Constable Penny Irving. This is Constable Jason Braxton. Can we come in please?’

Claire swallowed and felt the blood drain from her face as she nodded, unlocked the screen door and stepped aside. She was dazed, rooted to the floor.

The trio stood awkwardly in the passage, its checked black and white tiles suddenly harsh and busy. The young constable gently closed the heavy wooden door, sending a loud echo reverberating through the hall. Claire pulled the collar of her robe tighter. She knew she should ask what they wanted, why they were there, but also knew she didn’t want to know.

The fog of Claire’s mind lifted a little as the policewoman suggested they sit. Her arm moved as if unconnected to her and she motioned toward the lounge. The trio walked single file with Claire in between. If they were trying to offer comfort, it wasn’t working. Instead she felt like a criminal being prevented from escaping.