“Yes.”
7
WRIST
The 24-hour clinic in Atherton was quiet coming and going. It was dark by the time she left. A woman had taken an x-ray of Ronnie’s wrist, splinted it and sent her home. The doctor would see her in the morning.
For a few minutes she sat in the dark carpark. She could go back to the donga. She could go to her dad’s. She could go to the pub. Her dogs were at the donga in Tinaroo. She should feed them.
She drove east. No need to make a decision yet.
When the road split, she made the selfish choice, turning right onto the Gillies Range Road toward the farm. Nev would know what to do.
Nev always knew the right thing to do.
Time went wobbly at night in the old truck, when she couldn’t remember what year it was. She noticed she was disassociating and became emotional about it. Her splinted hand snaked inside her shirt, fingertips grazing a hard six-pack on their way up to where the broken rib had been.
Twenty-five minutes later she turned left onto Boar Pocket Road. The horizon opened and dropped to reveal a hidden valley between Lake Tinaroo and mountains. At night it became aseries of overexposed two-dimensional images that only existed in the brief time they were illuminated by her headlights. The road followed rolling hills dotted with white Brahman-cross cattle in one paddock, sheep in another, improved pastures and tree-lined ravines, then past the large wooden sign for Upsend Downs. She had planted those azaleas.
She was a person who planted azaleas.
She pulled into Nev’s drive without signaling, no one else in any direction—the way she liked it. If it had been daytime she would have let herself in through the open front door without knocking. Since it was dark, and Nev’s collies were silent, she parked under the flood light beside Nev’s silver F-250.
Never surprise a gun-owner in the country at night. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
The front step bent under her weight. She had been after Nev to fix it. Inside, Nev told the dogs to stop barking. “It’s only Ron, quit.”
Nev answered the door in a robe and slippers—she had clearly been drinking, but not too much yet—and gestured her in.
Inside, the telly in the bedroom talked. Nev had been watching a documentary.
Ronnie’s eyes prickled, then blurred. This would be one of those nights they cleaned up with a mop and never talked about again. She tried not to fall apart all at once.
Nev frowned at the splint on her wrist. “Bit of a barney, was it?”
She had prepared a funny line about eating shite at the skate park, but it stuck in her throat. This felt like an allergic reaction, the way her body reenacted one of her old episodes. Even people who had been to therapy for a decade could get triggeredsometimes. Nev was the only person who treated her like she was normal regardless of what shape she was in.
Nev disappeared into the kitchen. She followed. Nev opened the freezer, tossed a bag of peas on the table.
She looked at it for a minute, then reached for the bag, which was soft, and held it to her splinted wrist.
“Have you been round to your dad yet?”
I feel like I have a bag over my head,she thought.
Instinctively, she turned into Nev’s shoulder, which was lower than she wanted it to be. Hugs from the older woman were rare, reserved for special occasions. Nev was a good hugger, although most people would never guess that from looking at her. One of Nev’s secret talents was taming skittish horses, which came from the time she spent overseas in conflict zones working with children.
Nev patted her back. “Shh…”
Ronnie wiped her eyes. “Don’t call anyone…”
“Shh… You’ll feel better after you talk to your dad. Let’s call Reg.”
Ronnie shook her head. This wasn’t something he could fix. She didn’t want his help. She swallowed. “Can I sleep here?”
“Yeah.” Nev flicked on the electric kettle without looking at it. “You can.”
Beyond the kitchen, the living room with its arched timber-frame ceiling reminded her of ten years ago. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape her mistakes. Everywhere in this town triggered embarrassing memories. She wondered, not for the first time, if she should move away. Start over somewhere else where she didn’t have a reputation.
