I clear my throat. “Most people seek treatment from their GPs.”
“Not in Tiaki, they don’t. Every doctor in town withdrew from the national program when the petition to revoke the dispensing clinic’s licence passed.”
“There’s a clinic in Abbottsvale.”
“Which is a ninety-minute drive, round-trip.” She shifts in her seat, plucking a napkin apart with her fingers. “We made itevery day till our car fell apart. Unless we can afford a new one, we’re stuck.”
It sounds reasonable, but that’s the thing with addicts and the people who enable them. All their excuses sound reasonable. Until you clear every obstruction away and they still don’t want to stop.
“You don’t want the rest of your burger?”
I shake my head, pushing it across the tray to her. My eyes go back towards the counter. “Actually, I’m more in the mood for something sweet. You fancy a soft serve?”
She reaches into her pocket as I stand, digging for the money I already told her she could keep, and I step out of range, heading for the sole staff member and ordering far more than I can eat.
While I’m waiting, I turn back to see her eyes locked on me, then she turns back to the table, like she was caught doing something she shouldn’t.
You could invite her over. Watch her fall asleep. She’s so like Addie you could…
I could…? What? Pretend my sister came back from the dead? How does that help?
The fledgling thought circles around, trying to expand, to complete itself.
You could say goodbye. You could tell her…
Then the new tray is pushed towards me, and I walk back to the table, sliding it over the previous one, the second burger already gone.
Evie has the change from earlier and there’s a bus stop right outside. I should just leave her here. Go home. Pretend that the vigilante spree from earlier in the night satisfied my ache for revenge. “Do you live near here?”
She fills her mouth with ice cream, eyes lowered, ignoring the question. I join her, the soft serve going down a lot easier than the rest of the meal.
“You’re finished?”
She nods, jamming the last of the cone into her mouth, grabbing her bag, standing, looking ridiculous in her short dress and my oversize socks, which are inches longer than her feet. Like a girl playing dress up.
“What happened earlier…”
Her eyes rest on my chin, hands curling the top of the paper bag, patiently waiting.
I want to tell her it’s not me. None of this behaviour is me. I have so little carnal appetite that the world might as well slap an asexual label on my forehead and be done with it.
And if I can’t saythatI want to at least reassure her it’s nother.She wasn’t giving off some weird signal to attract my breed of fucked-in-the-head-ness.
A plain sorry would do.
She’s a stripper. You won’t even be the first guy to come on her tonight.
The thought horrifies me. As does the realisation that one of those men might have been my dad.
My usual revulsion for sex comes flooding back, sweeping the lingering glow of satisfaction away. Whatever spell had me in its grip seems to be over and I’ve never been more grateful to let go of something in my life. “Never mind. We should get going.”
CHAPTER FOUR
EVIE
A lot of the time,I feel like a doll. A badly treated toy that goes from owner to owner, no one caring enough to make the small repairs, so the damage grows with every change of hands. Except for my brother Ant, no one ever takes the time or effort to ensure I have what I need.
As we walk out of the restaurant, the sensation of being a thing others use however they want—for pleasure, for a scapegoat, for a reservoir to pour their unrealised dreams and frustrations—should be stronger than ever. After all, the boy escorting me is only half an hour past the point he shoved a loaded revolver in my mouth and told me to suck it. Who made me look death in the eye while he ground against me for his pleasure.
