did they know about each other’s lives, really? The three of them were as unlikely companions as you could find, but they were part of a matched set, like 1950s kitchen canisters of Flour, Sugar and Tea.
Despite their doubts about the pact they had made, they found themselves humming ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’. They had crossed the Yarra River—muddy and wide—and were being carried home in their various chariots: Meredith in her Audi Quattro with the pristine chocolate leather upholstery; Nina in the Honda Odyssey, which had twenty filthy football jumpers and thirty-five socks in the back seat; and Annie in her Mini Cooper, its ashtray overflowing, three empty vodka mixer bottles on the floor and now a good three months out of rego.
Three
Annie’s phone call came as Nina was standing at her kitchen bench the next morning rereading a particularly inspirational article in O magazine: ‘Women’s friendships are special. Women friends help us define who we are and who we want to be. They are a touchstone in our lives through family, marriage and childbirth. Female friends offer wise counsel and a trusting and deep constancy.’
‘I was pissed last night. I can’t come.’
‘OH NO! Annie, why not?’ The disappointment came like a head-butt to Nina’s midsection. She dumped the magazine on the bench and paced the kitchen with the cordless. All morning she’d been on a high at the prospect of getting away. In her mind she was already lying on a banana lounge by a pool at Byron Bay with a banana daiquiri and the latest Jodi Picoult novel.
‘I’ve got so much on here at work,’ Annie sighed. ‘I’ve got three inspections just this afternoon. It’s all about time. Who’s got the time for this?’
‘I know that,’ Nina countered. ‘None of us has the time, but you’re the one who was talking last night about “lifelong regrets”. We were all remembering the great times with Sanctified Soul when we were on the road. How come we stop doing stuff, having adventures, having fun, just ’cause we’re middle-aged?’
The thought of being ‘middle-aged’ gave Annie a moment’s pause. ‘But you could go away with Meredith. You don’t really need me.’
‘Well maybe we don’t need you, but you need us. You’re paying total strangers to read your fortune. How crazy is that? What you need is “wise counsel” from female friends. We’ll tell you all about your life for free.’
‘Yeah, well maybe that’s exactly what I don’t need. And I just had one card reading, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.’
This line of argument wasn’t getting Nina any closer to backing out of her driveway. She changed gear. ‘Look, if you won’t do it for yourself, at least do it for Meredith. The whole situation in Byron is going to be really hard for her. She could do with some support and validation.’
‘Nina . . .’ Annie rolled her eyes at the banal self-help jargon Nina had obviously picked up from daytime TV. ‘We’ll just be hangers-on. We don’t really know any of the family. I wouldn’t recognise Sigrid now if I fell over her, and Jarvis was three when I last saw him.’
‘Forget about the wedding then. That’s just one part of it anyway.’ Another smooth gear change. ‘Have you ever been to Byron Bay?’
‘No.’
‘Neither have I, but I’ve always wanted to go, haven’t you? It sounds amazing. All lush and tropical. Beautiful beaches and the water will still be warm. We can walk to the lighthouse. And I hear there’s great shopping.’
Nina wasn’t sure about the shopping bit, but threw it in for Annie’s benefit. She wasn’t above telling the odd lie. One of her most celebrated efforts had been activating the car’s windscreen washer and telling her three small boys that it was raining when they whined to be taken to the local adventure playground. The boys had been mightily aggrieved when they found out the truth years later, but the story was now part of family legend and Nina went on fibbing when it suited her.
Annie hesitated. It was a silence Nina could almost have driven a five-berth motorhome through. She put the foot down. ‘And you never know, Miss Bailey, you might meet some gorgeous men there. There’re tons of restaurants and bars right on the beach.’
‘Well . . .’
‘I tell you what, why don’t you come over on Saturday, say midday, and at least have a look at the van. I know you’ll love it. You can make a final decision then. Deal?’ Nina held