We choose a place with umbrellas for shade and order sodas that come in thick glass bottles, the painted labels worn away by washing. Grandma has a Coke and I have a Sprite, and the cold bubbly sweetness tastes so good, which is more than I deserve.

It has been two days since I left Alex’s room. Since then we’ve had a single, awkward conversation after bumping into each other on the rec deck, in which neither of us acknowledged what we’d done. When Grandma asked if I’d had a nice evening, I said yes, but I was lying. Inside I am disintegrating, but outside I keep my face smooth, my expression unchanged. Every moment since that night I have been filled with self-loathing, with guilt. Why do I do this? Why do I act without thinking? Since when do I let my body decide? I think of Grandma curled in her bunk, mourning her brother. The red marks of fingernails on skin. Pulling her hair out, strand by strand. The strength it took to continue. How do you choose between giving up and going on? Or is it not a choice you make consciously?

I feel the pull of old habits. This Sprite will be the only thing I have today, I tell myself. As soon as I decide this I feel better, less muddle-headed, in control once more.

I drink the rest of my soda slowly, savouring it, making it last. Imagining I feel every bubble of carbonation pop on my tongue. Hunger will pull me away from the desire that made me fuck things up. Hunger will hone me again, like a sharp blade of steel.

I wait for my ice cubes to melt, sticking my straw between them.

That old feeling of deprivation soothes me. Soon there will be only one thing on my mind.

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

A few brides and fiancées who were meant to be met at the harbour were not, and the Red Cross ladies bustled them to a hotel, where they would spend the night making frantic phone calls and sorting out their situations. Had their husbands forgotten? Changed their minds? So many whispers. I tried not to take part.

Those of us continuing on took a tram to the railway station, stopping first at a telegraph office to let our families back in Australia and our husbands in the east know we’d arrived. I sent two messages. Same wording, two destinations: Conjola, New South Wales, Australia and Roanoke, Virginia, USA.

ARRIVED IN FRISCO, ALL WELL, TRAIN TONIGHT.

LOVE, S