Her parents had stood in the doorway until she climbed into Ian’s car, then turned and shut their door tightly, finalising the end of their relationship.

Their marriage had come eight months later, when they’d rolled into the sleepy town of Townsville. Rose had a photo of them standing on the town hall steps, both looking uncomfortable in their Sunday best. The registry office wedding had been followed by drinks at the Shamrock Hotel, where Ian had bragged to all who would listen that his Rose was the prettiest girl around. Their bed had been tiny and Ian’s drunken snores had kept her awake. As had an annoying mozzie who seemed to know exactly where her ear was. Nothing like she’d imagined her wedding day would be.

The walk on the beach the next morning, the bouquet of flowers and gentle kisses and soft praises had made up for the flop of a wedding night.

Rosie hadn’t given her family much thought, although from time to time the urge to speak to her mum was overwhelming, especially since she’d become pregnant. But that was a feeling she kept to herself.

As Ian swung the car onto the road and headed out of town, she thought about their life since she’d left. At first, she’d loved the nomadic lifestyle. She’d seen more of Australia than any of the girls she’d gone to school with. They were all back in their hometown, married or studying to be a nurse or a teacher. Their lives would emulate those of their parents. Never moving out of the same postcode, and perhaps only shifting a few streets away from where they were raised.

Rose had never wanted to be like that. She’d always yearned to get out of Ballarat, and that was why she’d taken the job at the pub—to earn enough money to be able to leave and start a new life.

But she had never counted on falling in love with Ian. And she had, quickly and hard. His accent had made her knees tremble as he whispered Irish words she didn’t understand. He’d seemed wild and exciting and free.

Free. That was what she wanted to be.

Out of Ballarat and away from her parents’ expectations and tight rules. The ones that would see her end up just like every other young woman in town: working for a year or two until she ended up married and pregnant. Again there was the irony, because that was exactly what Rose now was—married and pregnant.

She always found a smile on her lips when she remembered what Ian had said to her a couple of days before they left.

‘Come with me, sweet Rosie. Life on the road with you will be perfect. We won’t have much, but we’ll have each other, and I want nothing more than you. Come with me, A chroí.’