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This is the friend the organisation warned me against, the bad association. The only person to show up for me.
When I reach the car, she helps me wrestle the suitcase into the boot.
‘Please tell me you didn’t drive all the way from Melbourne because of that letter,’ I say.
She shrugs. ‘I was coming down for Trent’s birthday tomorrow anyway. I just came a day earlier.’ She slams the boot shut. ‘So, where to?’
‘Brisbane.’
She scrunches up her nose. ‘That might be a stretch.’
‘How about the milk bar to buy a V/Line ticket, then?’
She gestures for me to get in. ‘So you can wait three hours for the bus? Have enough time to change your mind? I don’t think so. I’ll drive you to Turram. They have a bus that will take you all the way to Cann River. From there you can catch a bus to Canberra, then take the train to Brisbane.’
‘The bus is cheaper.’
She climbs into the driver seat and closes the door. ‘Sure, but the train is so much faster. You know, if you need money—’
‘I don’t need money.’ I click in my seat belt. ‘I just need to be sensible with what I have.’
Her eyes sweep over me. ‘Fine, no money.’ She starts the car. ‘You look good, by the way. I like your hair shorter.’
I reach up and touch the ends of it. I’ve had long hair my whole life and decided to cut it just below my shoulders a few months back. It’s noticeably wavier at this length.
‘And new clothes—that fit,’ she says with a smile.
I’ve slowly been replacing items in my wardrobe. Of course, now I wish I had saved the money instead.
The drive to Turram is around forty minutes. Tamsin spends that time filling me in on all her news—months’ worth. Entire months that I’d intentionally cut her from my life, and she still showed up. Though some in my congregation might have shown up if they believed I could be talked off the ledge, but the only place they would drive me would be to an elder’s house for counselling.
‘I’m sorry I missed all those things,’ I tell her.
She glances sideways at me. ‘Stop. I know why. I’m utterly irreplaceable, and I knew you’d be back eventually.’
‘Utterly irreplaceable, huh?’
She flashes a smile at me, then asks, ‘Are you going to come back here if you don’t find your sister?’
I look out the window. ‘I can’t. Not unless I’m coming back to all of it.’
‘You mean the religion?’
I nod.
‘That pisses me off.’
My lips turn up. ‘Me too.’
‘You know you’re always welcome at my house, right? My mum adores you.’
‘Thank you, but if I can’t find Bridget, the plan is to keep looking.’
‘I think that’s a great plan.’
When we arrive at the depot, I tell Tamsin to drop me out front, but she insists on parking and coming in. I buy my ticket, and then we head to the small cafe next to the booth. Though cafe is probably too generous a word for what is essentially a display of fried food and a coffee machine.
‘My shout,’ Tamsin says, handing a twenty to the lady.
