Chapter Six
There were few words to describe the sort of apprehension I felt as I walked to the assembly point of the Wilderness Expedition Medicine Course on Monday morning.
The last time I had been ‘in the wilderness’ was grade nine camp; a three-day experience that had given me my first education in how utterly ridiculous people were when they smoked marijuana, and left me with genuine concerns about impending teenage pregnancies in my peers.
I came back with three take-home messages: don’t smoke weed; ensure all fifteen-year-old girls are on contraception; and never go into the bush again.
These were indeed desperate times.
Much to my surprise, Cleo had executed the swap with no apparent difficulties, emailing the relevant people so I could take her place on the course and she could pick up my shifts in the department.
It was weird, letting someone take control of a situation for me.
But I was so exhausted that I found myself giving in to it, and somehow, I had ended up here.
Every time the panic started to take hold, I’d remind myself why this was a good idea. And Felix was top of the list of reasons why. This was my chance to strengthen my resolve and distance myself from him for good. Like rehab or something – remove the addict from the problem.
It appeared I was one of the first to arrive at the TAFE car park.
With no clue as to what ‘appropriate outdoor attire’ was, I had opted for wearing my running tights and cotton long-sleeve top.
Someone else must have been there too, because the doors of the minibus were open and the engine was already started and warming up.
I perched on a concrete bench and tried to look calmer than I felt.
Just as I was daydreaming about departing this version of my life altogether (leave my bag, run through the city, jump on a flight, go home, spend my remaining years on Ebony’s couch reading We’re Going on A Bear Hunt to her children), the ‘someone’ appeared.
The ‘someone’ who had been there before me.
The ‘someone’ who was carrying a large box full of simulation equipment.
The ‘someone’ who, unfortunately, was Abel Sutherland.
My already low spirits plummeted.
His eyes flicked my way as he passed, accompanied by the characteristic frown, before he loaded the box into the back of the minibus.
When he walked by again, he almost stopped as though to ask me something, then seemed to think better of it and disappeared into the building before I could offer to help.
On the next load, he did stop, mannequin under his arm. ‘You swapped with Cleo.’
I couldn’t be sure if it was a question or a statement. He would have been told who he was working with, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to him. But whatever the case, he didn’t look too pleased about it. He was probably worried I was going to start talking about vibrators again.
‘Can I help?’ I finally managed. I felt his eyes track momentarily down my legs and I wondered if running tights had been the right choice.
Dammit. He looked perfectly appropriate: loose trousers, presumably made out of something slightly more hardwearing than the thin polyester of mine, and a snuggly fitting thermal top, pulled up at the elbows.
He had that look about him of someone familiar with being ‘in the wilderness’.
Like he lived in Cactus pants and merino tops.
And his build was just right, so he probably had a whole line of clothes made especially for him and he modelled for someone like Macpac in his spare time; they always had to tell him not to look so muscly or the normal people might feel intimidated.
The wind chimes had still not let me sleep. My chaotic mind was on account of the wind chimes.
‘You can put your bag in the boot if you like.’
‘Of course.’ I followed him into the building with the aim of helping ferry more loads on board. He handed me a plastic box.
‘I hope it wasn’t too last minute,’ I said. ‘Cleo suggested the swap …’
‘It’s fine,’ he grunted. He was already walking out the door with another mannequin in its carry case.
I rolled my eyes. Okay, Abel Sutherland was a tool. Or just hated me. Either way, this was clearly a diabolical mistake. I should have known not to do anything out of my normal realm of comfort. It would seem I was trading one arsehole for another.
We didn’t talk for the next twenty minutes, only exchanging the occasional scowl, and I reprimanded myself for my terrible life choices.
A bunch of others trickled in – who I guessed were paramedics or GPs or outdoor education guides who presumably needed some extended first aid skills for their work.
It felt just like that first day of grade nine camp: everyone talking excitedly; expecting a bonding experience full of laughs and drinking the ‘bottle of wine I sneaked in my pack’, blah, blah, blah.
Meanwhile, I’d be sitting in a corner, freezing my polyestered arse off, wishing I was anywhere else.
We were finally loaded and getting in the minibus. Abel had instructed me to sit up front next to him. I had glared at him. He was clearly planning on making this absolute hell for me.
He checked his watch. ‘Wasn’t there supposed to be two ED registrars?’
‘I was told Lucy would be here.’
He stared at me like the whole situation was my fault (which in some ways, it was) and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his impatience palpable. To be fair, I also had no tolerance for lateness and found myself questioning my previous character judgement of Lucy.
Just as I was about to suggest giving her a call, my door wrenched open and I gasped in disgust. ‘Felix.’
He leapt in beside me, forcing me to dart across the bench seat to avoid his body colliding with mine. I could feel the warmth of Abel’s hip and leg against my own as I tried to make the distance between my body and Felix’s as big as possible.
‘What are you doing here?’ Apparently this was a surprise to Abel too.
‘I swapped with Lucy,’ Felix said brightly, all the while smiling at me like he’d come up with something completely brilliant.
‘Right.’ Abel was staring at Felix with undisguised disapproval, then his eyes shifted to me and I squirmed with discomfort.
‘I had no idea he was coming,’ I managed to say in my shock, my brain trying to catch up with this utter clusterfuck of a situation. I could not believe this was happening.
‘Has this actually been approved by anyone?’ Abel demanded.
‘Lucy said it would be fine. She’s working my shifts. No problemo, man!’
I felt Abel stiffen beside me. Finally, he gave a grunt of what I can only assume was disgust at both me and Felix, and turned the ignition.
The noises from the back of the van were lively and jovial while I sat between my two least favourite men and wished the bench seat would open up, swallow me whole and spit me out on the road.
I crossed my arms over my chest and squeezed my knees together, trying to take up as little room as possible and avoid making contact with either of them.
Unfortunately, every time Abel changed gears, his hand bumped my outer thigh and I’d jump away, making my knees collide with Felix’s.
The next two and a half hours were going to be hell.
‘How are you?’ Felix asked quietly.
I death-stared him in response.
Half an hour later, he tried again. ‘Where are you staying at the moment?’
I pretended I hadn’t heard him and turned the radio on. Something jaunty and reminiscent of the eighties blared through.
‘Just like old times, isn’t it, Mair? Road-tripping along.’ Felix bumped shoulders with me all cutesy and I shifted towards Abel. At this point, body contact with him was slightly less appalling than body contact with Felix. I felt Abel’s eyes cross to me momentarily.
All in all, the drive was one of the most awkward ordeals of my life.
And layered on top of the incredible discomfort of sitting in such proximity to both Felix and Abel was the whirling of my mind with the logistics of the days to come.
Cleo had told me I was sharing a cabin with Lucy – now Lucy had swapped with Felix.
The situation was completely impossible.
I cursed Cleo. I cursed Lucy. I cursed Abel.
And I couldn’t even begin to express the darkness I felt towards Felix.
At the halfway point, we stopped at a very dilapidated-looking roadhouse that advertised ‘Cuppa-chinos’.
Abel got out first and I sprang out behind him like I was a caged cat and this was my chance of freedom.
I didn’t feel I needed to explore what a ‘Cuppa-chino’ was and instead marched behind the roadhouse so I could hang my head in my hands and wallow in my utter despair.
I wasn’t a crier but, God, I was close to a full two-year-old’s breakdown.
I leant against the crumbling paint of the roadhouse wall, closed my eyes and gave a small whimper of dismay.
‘That bad, hey?’
I jumped. ‘Jesus!’
Abel was leaning against the wall two metres along from me.
‘Where you there the whole time?’ I demanded. I hated being surprised. Him and his nature-toned attire just blended right in. Though now that I saw him, I didn’t know how I had possibly missed him.
‘Need some air?’ He looked amused by the situation.
‘Something like that,’ I muttered. ‘You too, evidently?’
‘It’s kind of intense in that cab,’ he admitted. He frowned at me. I was growing tired of the frown. But this time, it was laced with a curiosity.
‘I’m sorry. This is a mess. I shouldn’t have done the swap.’
‘Oh, well.’ He shrugged, his tone flat and unimpressed. ‘You’re here now.’
I sighed. This was a disaster.
‘So, what’s the story there? You and Felix?’
‘Me and Felix nothing. No story,’ I snapped.
He made a disbelieving face. ‘Okay.’