backed the RoadMaster down the narrow drive, but her husband Brad. It had taken a good half-hour, many obscene oaths and the life of a prized pink hydrangea.
‘The whole idea is ridiculous,’ snorted Meredith. ‘We should just fly both ways. We’d be there in a couple of hours. We could be sitting down having a cocktail, looking out over the ocean, the same afternoon.’
Nina nodded and marched down the concrete drive, pausing to pat the snub nose of the hulking beast with affection, as if she was approaching a prized milking heifer in a stall, saying: ‘There, there, old girl, easy now, easy.’ She was fumbling with the key-ring, trying to recall which one of a dozen keys opened the front door, when she heard Meredith’s voice from behind. ‘Oh-my-good—!’
Nina turned to see her rooted to the spot in front of the truly arresting sight of a giant decal of Elvis Presley rampant—pelvis thrusting, microphone held high. The King was plastered from roof to wheel.
‘Why?’ asked Meredith. She was apparently seeking a logical explanation.
‘Elvis. King of the Road. Get it?’ said Nina. ‘It was something Brad’s father had done,’ she added lamely. ‘I like it. I think it gives the van a bit of personality.’
‘If you’ve got the personality of a rednecked hick!’
‘He’s always loved Elvis,’ Nina said staunchly. ‘And it’s a good safety thing too. See all the lettering and the jewels on the jumpsuit? They’re light-reflective, so you can see the van better at night. You know how the big trucks have lights right down the side so that . . .’ Nina hesitated as she saw Annie stalk up the drive, her high heels tapping on the concrete. She stopped and slowly, theatrically, slid her huge sunnies up on top of her head.
‘Jesus! You could see this fucking thing from the moon, Nina! You could look out the window of the space shuttle and there it would be, parked right next to the Great Wall of China! You never told us how big it was. You CANNOT be serious!’ She lowered her black Gucci frames and folded her arms firmly across her crisp white shirt. Meredith raised her eyebrows at Nina. It sounded like Annie hadn’t promised to come after all.
‘But, we all agreed . . .’ Nina protested.
‘It was late, I’d had too much to drink . . . so had you!’ Annie accused. ‘We can’t go in this thing! We’ll look like travelling carnie folk. The Beverly Hillbillies. The only thing missing is the Confederate flag.’
‘Actually . . .’ Nina coughed and walked to the back of the van. Meredith and Annie followed, paused and stared in silence. There it was, in all its red-and-blue starry holographic glory—the rebel flag of the Southern States, unfurled from tail-light to shining tail-light.
The awful moment was interrupted by the bleating of Annie’s BlackBerry. She fished it from the pocket of her black trousers, cupped her hand over the device, and spoke in an urgent whisper.
Nina jiggled the key in the lock on the van door and finally wrestled it open. Honestly, she fumed as she stamped up the stairs, who gave a stuff what the mobile home looked like from the outside? The dodgy artwork would be long forgotten when they were all on the road, sitting up front, singing some of the old songs and taking in the vast, arid beauty of the Australian landscape. They would be two thousand kilometres from home and care and responsibility. Nina really wanted to take this trip. More than anything she’d wanted for a long time. She’d been fantasising about it for days—awake, asleep, it didn’t matter.
As she spoke into her ‘smartphone’, Annie sought Meredith’s eyes and telegraphed an irritated shrug. How had they let themselves be talked into the madness of coming here to view the monster vehicle? Meredith shook her head. She had no idea either.
Annie terminated her call, in time to hear Nina plead: ‘Come inside and have a look, you’ll adore it.’
Meredith took Annie by the elbow and steered her towards the open door. She had the distinct feeling that if they left now Nina might just stick her head in the . . . Did the thing actually have an oven? She pushed Annie up the metal stairway ahead of her.
Just as Nina had hoped, Annie expressed her surprise when she stepped inside the RoadMaster. It was like a cosy playhouse—everything just slightly smaller and dinkier than in real life. Annie opened cupboards and drawers,