for?’
Lauren explained about her counsellor.
Abigail wasn’t surprised. ‘It’s a state-wide thing, I’ve read about it in the newspapers. The counselling encourages younger and older kids to interact and helps them deal with bullying and other issues.’
James nodded. ‘Some schools in Britain do it as well. But you wouldn’t think they’d let Survivors become counsellors and go round recruiting kids into their cult.’
‘They’ve got no choice,’ Abigail said. ‘If Survivor kids weren’t allowed to become counsellors, the group would kick up some big legal stink about religious discrimination and start sending in the lawyers.’
James looked at Lauren. ‘So, did this Mary chick try and recruit you?’
‘A bit,’ Lauren nodded. ‘It wasn’t the main thing. But she asked me all about my background and about you lot, and our dad leaving and living in England. Then she asked me if I had any friends around, so I go, ‘No,’ and she goes, ‘Well we’ve got this group that meets up at our commune on a Saturday.’ So I acted like I was just a tiny bit interested and she told me that it was just a fun group. You know, I’d make some friends and stuff, play games, sing songs. She made it sound like girl guides or something.’
Abigail nodded. ‘Did you say you’d go?’
‘No, ’cos I thought you might have said it was too soon and not wanted me to. So I just said I’d think about it. She wrote the phone number and address down for me. She said to call ahead and say how many of us were coming.’
‘She invited all of us?’ James asked.
‘Yeah,’ Lauren nodded. ‘Including Abigail.’
James looked at Abigail. ‘So, do we go or not?’
Abigail rubbed a floury hand against her chin. ‘Well, we weren’t looking to make first contact with the group until we’d been in the area for a little bit longer, but this is such an unforced opportunity. I’ll run it past John for a second opinion, but I don’t think it would do any harm to show our faces up there.’
14. TOGETHER
Abigail dropped the kids into the centre of Brisbane on Saturday morning and left them to spend the day shopping and exploring their new home town. She picked them up late afternoon and fed them another bang-up meal before the trip to the commune in the evening. Dana stayed home, so that it didn’t look as if they were trying too hard.
The Survivors’ original Brisbane church and ramshackle commune was now known as the Survivors’ Museum. The current commune was a conversion of a failed shopping mall. The illuminated store signs had been replaced with wooden crosses and Christian slogans.
There were less than a hundred cars on a stretch of tarmac designed for thousands. Abigail pulled up by what had once been the main entrance to the mall.
James grinned at Lauren as they got out the back of the car. ‘Today’s special mall offer, crazy mind-bending religion, just twelve ninety-nine.’
Lauren grinned, but Abigail shushed him. ‘James, keep in character and remember to call me Mum.’
‘OK, Mommy.’
Three Survivors emerged through the automatic doors at the main entrance. James recognised Ruth, Lauren recognised Mary, but they were led out by a grinning middle-aged man with rectangular glasses, beard and a corduroy jacket.
‘Hello, I’m Elliot Moss,’ the man said, grinning at Abigail. ‘It’s fantastic that you all took time to come out here and meet us this evening.’
Abigail grinned back. ‘Well actually, I was going to drop the kids off at the youth group.’
‘Oh,’ Elliot said sadly. ‘Couldn’t you just spare us a few moments? We’ve got coffee and excellent cake inside. How do you like your coffee?’
‘Strong and black,’ Abigail said.
‘You’ll love ours then, it’s grown on Survivor plantations in Nicaragua. We sell it to gourmet delis and coffee shops all over the world and make sure that the growers earn a decent living out of it.’
Abigail glanced at her watch, before tapping the plipper to lock her car. ‘I’ll just pop in for a little while then.’
‘Great,’ Elliot beamed as he turned around and led them towards the ex-mall.
Ruth paired off with James and Lauren with Mary. They were led through the automatic doors, beneath a sign that read, Every Honest Soul IS Welcome Here. The main hallway was run down and had lots of tasteless 1970s touches: lurid orange floor tiles, dark wood panelling and coloured panes in the windows. There was a musty smell, caused by too much floor polish and bad air-con.
Elliot whisked them into a medium-sized ex-shop that