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If it’s what you need, go ahead. Just don’t expect me to be happy about it.’ ‘Okay. Be brave.’ Julie cancelled again the next night, and the night after. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ ‘No, thank you, Robert. There are a lot of conflicting issues tearing around in my head. I’ll have them all settled by Monday and you’ll know my answer then.’ ‘We miss you.’ ‘I know.’ Monday morning I woke early. At last I’d get an answer out of Julie. Maybe she’d let me know what her concerns were. I probably moved faster than I should. I woke Amber, who’d been up in the middle of the night with Deirdre. She may have been teething again. Amber had taken to sleeping with me again when Julie wasn’t there, always tastefully clad in the ugliest nightshirt I’d ever seen. ‘Sorry, dear. Go back to sleep.’ ‘Ummm.’ I was looking forward to Julie’s answer. The first thing to do was to plan some kind of special treat for her that evening. We’d have it at the house so the girls could participate. They were going. It was obvious she was all alone in the middle of nowhere and worse still, because she wanted it to be a surprise, she had not told a sole where she was going. She pressed on looking for him. It was around dawn, about two and a half hours later when she finally saw him again. He was this little speck of orange way off in the distance. The orange she could see was his backpack. She turned around then and began to retrace her steps back to the bus stop and home to Brisbane. People on the bus looked at her with such compassion as she sometimes silently cried, sometimes starred blankly out of the window, and sometimes seemed to choke on the grief inside of her. It was a four-hour trip back to the terminal. One night, several days later, she was talking to his best friend who was still in Brisbane and who, knowing how much she was hurting, tried to give her a reality check by telling her what he [the love of her life] had said to him on his return from what was the most intimate.
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