When Sullivan Met Lola by Monica McInernery, the latest instalment of the much-loved Quinlan family series, sees 86-year-old Lola travelling to Melbourne against the wishes of her family.
There, she crosses paths with 12-year-old Sullivan at a hotel near the Botanic Gardens, and the pair become unlikely friends in this charming book about secrets and lost loves.
Lola hadn’t left Clare yet – her flight was still several days away – but she was already exhausted. Not by her travel preparations. By her family.
Bett’s tearful visit had been the start. She’d eventually stopped crying enough to explain what was wrong. “We can’t go to Melbourne any more, Lola. I’m so sorry. My doctor’s advised against it.”
Between apologies, she’d explained that her GP was concerned about the severe morning sickness. There was medication she could try, but did Bett really want to be far from home feeling so unwell? And what if something happened, to her or to Lola?
“The doctor’s right, Lola. How can I look after you properly if I’m constantly needing to be sick? I’m so, so sorry. I know how much you wanted to see the Broadway show. I could ask Carrie to go with you, except I know Matthew’s away for work next week. Would you go with Daniel? Or I could ask Dad? I’m so sorry…”
The more Bett apologised, the clearer Lola’s decision became.
“…such a shame. I know you’ve been listening to all those old songs again. And the hotel looks gorgeous. We’d have loved it. It even has a library bar, and its own signature cocktail list. You could have had one there the night of the musical…”
“Great idea, I will.”
“…and we could have done so many other things in Melbourne…”
“So many things. I can’t wait.”
Bett stopped talking. “What?”
“Bett, I’m truly sorry you can’t travel, for those very good reasons. But I still can.”
“Go to Melbourne? On your own?” Lola nodded.
“You can’t, Lola! How?”
“By plane, as booked by you. Staying in that lovely hotel, found by you. I might even upgrade to a suite. If I’m going for a week, I may as well spoil myself.”
“A week? You and I were only going for two nights.”
“You had to be back for the twins. I could stay longer.”
“Lola, this is madness. You’re 86. You can’t possibly go on your own.”
Lola felt a flutter of hackles. “Please don’t tell me what I can or cannot do.”
Bett’s cheeks coloured. “I’m sorry. But can’t you see? It’s impossible.”
Lola knew Bett wasn’t aware of the irony of her words, but they hardened her resolve. “I disagree, Bett. It is possible.”
Ten minutes after a still-unhappy Bett left, Lola’s son Jim phoned from the guesthouse he ran with his wife Geraldine in the Adelaide Hills, three hours away. They’d moved from the family motel in Clare two years earlier, at first leasing and then recently selling it. Jim had been due to visit Clare the following week. He was just bringing it forward, he insisted. A flying visit in the morning. He’d see the girls next time.
Jim arrived before nine. Lola was waiting at the front door, leaning on the stick she often needed to use now. He was as tall as she was, with a kind, warm face that matched his kind, warm character. It still baffled Lola why he’d married such a buttoned-up and, yes, boring woman as Geraldine. And that they seemed so happy together still.
“How is Geraldine?” she said, attempting a friendly tone. It was unspoken knowledge among the Quinlans that Geraldine disliked Lola as much as Lola disliked her.
“Happy and well. She says hello.”
“Do say hello back from me,” Lola said.
She’d set up morning tea in her sunny living area. “You look good, Mum,” Jim said.
“I am good, thank you, Jim. Get it over with, please. Tell me off about Melbourne. Then we can talk about more interesting things.”
Jim took a seat. “It’s a terrible idea, Mum. It’s not just the flights we’re worried about. What if you have an accident there, fall, or get lost, or…”
“Grow scales or cloven hooves? Do you worry this much when I’m here in Clare?”
“No, because I know this house, this town, your doctor and how close the hospital is.”
Lola lifted her chin. “Courtesy of the money you so generously shared from the motel sale, Jim, I’m booked into a five-star hotel beside the Botanic Gardens. I’ll have people all around me. If you insist, I’ll also research the closest medical centre, hospital, podiatry clinic and dentist. I’m grateful for your concern, but I’m going. I want to. I need to. While I still can.” For a fleeting moment, she almost told him about her eyes, but a voice inside said, Not yet.
She softened her tone. “Jim, did you know my friend Kay is in the dementia ward at the old folks home? That another friend who went to Adelaide for an operation a month ago isn’t back and may never be? You and I both know that Alex died without warning. I don’t even need to mention our Anna. Who knows how much time I have left? I’m not spending it waiting for the Grim Reaper to come down the chimney.”
“That’s Santa Claus.”
“I’m trying to distract you. If Death comes knocking, Jim, I don’t want to be home. I’m going to Melbourne on my own and that’s that. If I die while I’m there, sell my belongings to pay to ship my corpse back.”
“Mum!”
“You’re all being so dramatic. I may as well join in.”
There was a long silence while Jim looked at Lola. She held his gaze.
He sighed. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”
“Nothing.”
“Will you promise me you’ll accept all the help you can? That if you feel tired, you’ll rest?”
“I promise.”
“And will you ring me every day?”
“I’ll message you,” Lola said. “Three words to assure you I’m fine.”
“What three words?”
“Either ‘Leave me alone’ or ‘I love you’ – I don’t know which yet.”
When Sullivan Met Lola, Penguin, $34.99
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