I had just enough time to think: I don’t want to!
And it was over.
The clear liquid disappeared into my body, joining the cancer on its mission to destroy me.
There were fifteen of us in that room. Would that really be enough for the infection to spread sufficiently all across Western Australia? How many people were sitting like this in other Australian cities? Sydney, Melbourne, Canberra? And the rest of the world?
I watched in a haze as Mark received his dosage. He clamped his eyes so tight tears escaped. He swallowed, held his breath, then joined me.
“Connie,” he started, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish.
There was nothing he could say right now that would calm me down. Nothing!
I ran away, like several people before me. I leaned into the glass door and glanced at the koala bear by the man’s side. It was as if the logo was screaming at me: a deadly virus? That’s exactly what people deserve! There is no place for them here!
I just about made it to the bushes where I disposed of my modest breakfast. I got into my car and drove away from the building in that doubtful state. I stopped at an empty car park by a shop with a “To rent!” sign, where I could finally let go of that latch and drown my grief in tears.
Frank
“Jeez, we’ll see each other again in two days, not two years,” I joked when I saw Connie tearing up at the airport. I drove us over because she’d wanted to sit in the back with Ruby. It was a bit unusual, we’d normally sit in the front together, no matter which one of us was driving. But why would I object to her wanting to be close to Ruby, whispering into each other’s ears, giggling and teasing each other?
“I know,” she laughed a little in response to my attempt at calming her down, and carried on squeezing her daughter’s hand. “It’s just a strange feeling, you guys leaving without me.”
She let me handle our luggage while she carried Ruby all the way to the check-in. There was no need since Ruby wasn’t one of those children who insisted on being carried around all the time.
“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Connie whispered to her while showering her with kisses. “You know that, right?”
“I love you so much too, Mummy. More than the elephant and rainbows and the sun!” Ruby replied enthusiastically and hugged her Mum even tighter. That little movement moved Connie’s shirt slightly higher up her body.
I stared at my daughter’s thin stomach, frowning. I was almost certain that just a few months ago she hadn’t been this thin. But with autumn approaching, she’d been wearing more clothes which made it difficult to notice her weight loss.
All that stress at work was taking its toll on her in every way, it was damn hard not saying anything about it. I didn’t want to interfere in her life and tell her what to do, but… it was hurting her! Maybe once she was in New Zealand, she’d realise how much working at the station actually exhausts her, and that it would be better to quit and find something calmer. I was determined to aid her in that realisation as much as possible, bring it up in conversation, bombard her with reasons… maybe she’d give in!
We were checked in without any issues and then moved towards passport control. Constance obviously couldn’t follow after that, so we were hanging around there as long as possible.
She hugged us as if her life depended on it. A guy just walking past us rolled his eyes as if to say: Women can be such drama queens!
“I’ll see you on the other side,” she said and tears were streaming down her face.
“Come come now,” I mumbled.
Ruby looked up at her, forehead creased in deep thought. “Why can’t you come with us, Mummy?”
“I’ve already explained Ruby, remember? They need me at the station, because there’s gonna be a big event here… but it’s only for grownups, nothing as exciting as that super cool kid’s festival you’re going to with Grampa in New Zealand. There’ll be magicians and all!”
Ruby’s eyes shone bright. “And mermaids and dwarfs and bouncy castles and ice cream and cotton candy and huge bubble blowers!”
Connie giggled in that girly tone she reserved only for Ruby. She blew her nose, dried her cheeks and said, “That’s right. Make sure you take lots of pictures so you can show me everything later!”
“Come on Grampa, let’s go!” the little one screamed and pulled on my arm. The vision of all the fun she was going to have at the festival must have been very tempting. Maybe there’ll be something for lumberjacks too, I thought to myself and chuckled.
“It’s just two days,” I reminded Connie. Her expression was far too bleak for such a short separation. I leaned towards her and whispered conspiratorially: “We’ll pick you up at the airport. Get ready for some serious verbal diarrhoea, this little monster will have a proper monologue ready for you!”
She quickly hugged us both again. “Safe trip! Call me as soon as you land!”
She was waving and calling out instructions at us until we walked around a corner and disappeared from view. It was so strange to be leaving her here. I realised that, even though I’d often picked Ruby up from kindy or took her to the playground on my own, Constance and I have never separated for a large trip.
It was clear that I’ll feel calmer once my daughter joins us, but I didn’t want to bring the mood down, so I put on an especially excited tone and told my granddaughter theatrically: “Onwards to adventure!”
Connie
I couldn’t sleep. When my tears finally dried in the early
