I finally catch up with Nick and Robbie on a morning I have free in my part-time roster. Robbie’s come down from Mildura for the day to see her dad and Nick’s just come off night shift. We end up at the bakery. Somehow, if it’s morning coffee, everyone ends up at the bakery, even though it’s mainly for tourists who want to gobble a vanilla slice on their way through Ouyen as they head for more exciting towns like Swan Hill or Mildura or Shepparton.
Robbie’s hug is as warm and genuine as she is. She smells of nail polish and perming solution. Nick’s black hair is flat, and his windbreaker bunches to his elbows. He looks a bit shattered after coming off work.
He stretches back in his aluminium café chair and rubs his arms as he finishes telling us about it. ‘So yeah, the extras are busting my arse. I’ve only taken two this week and I’m bloody knackered.’
‘Come work at the salon,’ Robbie offers, scooping up froth from the top of her cappuccino with her spoon. ‘We’re open six days now, from eight until seven. I swear to god, Mum’s working herself to death. Remind me never to open my own small business. But hey, you can have my shifts if you want them.’ She grins at the idea.
Nick makes a face. ‘Brazilians and chest waxes? Thanks, Rob, that’s real generous.’
I snort at the mention of Brazilians.
‘Couldn’t be worse than bedpans and vomit,’ Robbie counters.
‘I guess.’ Nick shrugs. ‘Nah, I love nursing. I’m in it for the long haul. Not like you, missy, just dipping your toe.’ He raises his chin at me.
‘Mm, I haven’t made my mind up yet.’ I slurp my coffee. ‘But hey, at least one of us has found a calling.’
‘I’m just trying to figure out how people like Barb do it full time for so many years.’
‘You’ll get there. You have to build up your stamina.’ I squint at him. ‘But the extras are for what? You’re really trying to get some cash together for this new car?’
‘Yes. And I’m really trying to sell the Subaru. No joy yet.’ He tilts forward to sugar his coffee. His long blunt fingers destroy three paper tubes before he’s happy.
Robbie raises her eyebrows at him. ‘Procrastinating much?’
‘Shut up.’ He glares at her.
‘Wimp. Are you going to tell her or not?’
I glance between the two of them. ‘What? What’s going on?’
Nick gives Robbie a look, stretches his long legs under the table. ‘I’m moving to Melbourne, Ames. That’s why I need a new car. I know I’ve talked about moving before, but I’m actually making plans now. Grant’s gonna help me set up a place to live.’
‘Really?’ The bottom drops out of my world a little, but I force my expression into neutral. The day is bright, sunny. ‘Well…that’s great. Geez, why were you putting off telling me?’
‘He thought you’d be pissed,’ Robbie confides.
‘I’m not pissed, that’s crazy.’ I’m a bit pissed. Not enough to spoil Nick’s mood, though. ‘I’m happy for you. But what will I do at the hospital without you?’
He grins. ‘Be awesome, like usual? Spread your little brand of joy on the ward? The patients love you, Ames, and you’re good at it. You’re even good at putting up with the nongs, like Harris Derwent.’
‘Harris Derwent was on the ward?’ Robbie presses one hand to her chest. ‘Holy shit. Is he still hot as the sun?’
‘He was a patient. You don’t ogle patients.’ I frown at Nick. ‘And he’s not a nong. He’s an okay guy.’ I see Nick’s eyebrows. ‘Fine, then, don’t believe me. But whatever his rep, he was an all-right person at the hospital. What have you got against Harris anyway?’
‘Apart from the fact he’s a smart-arse brain-dead man-whore? Nothing.’
Robbie waves her teaspoon. ‘Hey, the queue for the smart-arse brain-dead man-whores starts behind me, okay?’
I laugh, but I feel bad for Harris. And the idea of Nick moving away settles on me, like a dark scratchy quilt. ‘So you really want to leave Ouyen? For good?’
Nick puts down his mug, his eyes intent. ‘Mum and Dad are here. It’ll always be the place I grew up and the place I come back to – it’s in my bones. But I want to see different places, try different things. I can’t stay, Ames. Not for my family, not for anybody. I have to go, even if it’s just to see if I can do it.’
I remind myself this was inevitable. Nick’s been talking about it for ages. And around here, the question is always whether to go or stay. This year I’ve seen two other friends, Shelley and Peta, make the switch to city living, and Robbie moved to Mildura when her mum got divorced and started the salon business. It’s one of the conditions of rural friendship: that you hold on tight, and when the time comes, you hug hard…and let go.
It doesn’t make the sting less painful.
But Nick has already gone on. ‘…so Melbourne would be a good start. And you should be looking further afield, too.’
