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“I was actually born in an Aboriginal camp. The local women helped my mum through the birth.”
“Seriously? That’s kinda cool.” He shakes his head.
“Hard to believe compared to where you found me?”
“Shit, yeah.” He chuckles. “Does that make you part Aboriginal or something?”
I pick at the grass as I answer. “No, but it does give me an appreciation for their culture and customs. I mean, they are the longest continuing culture on the planet and they are partly responsible for my safe arrival.”
We talk about my life on the road. My parents and I traveled around Australia and the world until I was sixteen. I guess you could say I was homeschooled. But my parents decided I should probably experience some kind of formal education - not to mention socialisation with peers for more than a few weeks.
“So, we came home to Sydney.” I return to picking at the grass, pulling the shoots from the ground. “I was supposed to go to a public high school but my aunt and uncle intervened and insisted I go to a private school. They thought it would give me more credibility once I graduated, after spending so long gallivanting around the world like gypsies.” I channel Aunt Trudy when speaking that last part.
“Why did your parents listen to your aunt and uncle? Did they need their help paying for school?”
I laugh. “Not at all. Travel writing and photography was a very lucrative career for Mum and Dad; plus they made good investments. They definitely didn’t need anyone else’s money.” My heart aches as I think about my parents. “Trudy and my mother are sisters, and Mum wanted to try and have a relationship with her because we had no other family.”
“Sisters? They sound like polar opposites,” says Zep.
I nod. “They were. And Dad and Bob, Trudy’s husband, never got on either. They wanted to save us and we were pretty clear, we didn't need saving.”
Zep takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together. “What happened to them?”
I swallow back the bile that rises whenever I think about the day they died. “Car accident.”
He squeezes my hand and for the first time I feel a sense of comfort. I squeeze back. “Of course, Trudy declared it was an Act of God. I didn’t know which way was up and Trudy and Bob took me in and immediately surrounded me with others from their church, insisting I would find solace there.”
“Did you?” His tone is gentle and without judgment.
“I was numb. I found nothing but heartache.”
His thumb gently rubs my hand. I take a shuddering breath in.
“When I started to surface from the fog, I was eighteen and thought I’d take the money Mum and Dad left me and hit the road again.” I stop speaking; the memory carving my heart into pieces.
Zep’s curiosity clearly gets the better of him. “Why didn’t you?”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t. They took it.”
His eyes widen and his tone is menacing. “What? Your aunt and uncle took your money?”
I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. “They said they put it into trust or something until I was mature enough to manage that kind of money.”
“How much money are we talking about?”
“When the will was read, the sum was $3.8 million.”
Zep whistles. “That’s a decent chunk.”
“God knows how much is left. I know they paid off their mortgage. Probably donated a ton to the church.” I know I sound bitter but I can’t help it.
“Fuckers,” spits Zep. “Explains why they haven’t come looking for you.”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It makes me sad and I don’t want to feel sad when I’m with you.”
He smiles and pulls me closer, his lips claiming mine in a slow, passionate kiss that chases my memories and melancholy back into the shadows.
Chapter 6
