Heading in the Right Direction

I’ll take care of you , he said. But she didn’t believe him. She constantly struggled with distrust. It plagued her relationships and her performance at work and home.

Lack of trust often made her feel lost, drowning in uncertainty and always seeking an answer, a breakthrough, a sign.

Outwardly she exuded a calm confidence. Her voice and radiant smile belied her inner turmoil. People thought she had it all together but she didn’t. She lacked confidence and would often become consumed by her doubts, change course, or run away.

She pretended each change was a new and exciting adventure. “It was meant to be”.

Some thought her very brave, adventurous. She knew she was not. Security was important to her but she kept ditching it with each retreat, each change.

At 34 Robyn was a woman with a strong , muscular build. Not pretty but definitely attractive with high cheeks bones, thick lips, Kardashian style long dark hair and exaggerated fake eyelashes over intense dark brown eyes. She liked to dress to shock. Showing to much breast, tight dresses that shimmied to her buttocks, short shorts and impossibly high heels.

She’s had lots of boyfriends but for whatever reason, they’d all left her, two of them for other women.

Some had told her “you’re too much hard work”, “Why can’t you relax and trust me”. The answer was not one she had shared, ever, with anyone.

At 15 she’d been sexually assaulted by one of her uncles and continued to blame herself for being too friendly, too trusting, allowing him to get near her. She remembered thinking at the time why was he treating her like a slut. Was it because of my hair, my clothes? She was a virgin.

Today she was on a train heading to Newcastle with her latest boyfriend, Steve. Steve the plumber. They’d dated three or four times, slept together on their second date, had great sex and shared a lot of red wine and gourmet Italian pizza.

He said he loved her, wanted to take care of her and was now taking her to his house in Shortland Newcastle. He’d inherited it from his mother who died two years earlier. He was from Newcastle and Robyn lived in Sydney. His firm currently contracted in Sydney and that’s how they’d met, at a pub in Surry Hills.

She felt odd on the train with this man. Yeah, sure they’d been intimate, shared lots of red wine and good sex but he didn’t talk much and when he did he was very intense. He was always touching her, holding onto her. It was like he didn’t want her to run away.

He wanted her to see his house in Newcastle. She’d never been to Newcastle before. She was originally from Sydney’s western suburbs we’d she grown up in a small government flat with her single mother and a brother from another father. They all got on OK. Her mum was a good mum who studied to be a nurse and worked the late shift while Robyn was in high school. It was tough not having your mum at home, at nights, as a teenager, but the upshot was she discovered she liked to cook for she and her brother. She managed to pass her Year 10 exams and went on to a cooking course at Parramatta TAFE.

Robyn’s mum started working days while her brother was in high school so Robyn felt she could leave home to share a flat close to the Clock Hotel in Surry Hills where she’d landed a Chef’s apprenticeship.

Steve shared her king single bed on the third floor of a three storey terrace when he was in Sydney. Tonight they’d sleep in his king size waterbed. He was always bragging on about it. Steve wanted her to see Newcastle. He’d been giving it a great sales pitch. He said he wanted her to move in with him in Newcastle and was tempting her with stories of the great beaches, surfing, great Darby Street eateries, easy access to national parks, rivers, lakes and mountains where they could hike, surf, waterski, and camp under the stars.

Robyn loved working out at the gym, plunging into a creative kitchen shift, doing her face, her hair and painting her nails in her signature deep purple polish. She’d never really tried climbing, skiing and surfing.

But he did offer a calm, perhaps too calm, tempting sense of security. He was keen and she wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass her by. Even though he was pretty clingy she enjoyed his quiet company.

He said it normally took only two and a half hours to drive between Sydney and Newcastle. The train on the other hand took almost three. They’d never sat like this, away from the bar or bed with time to kill and make conversation. He kept hold of her hand or draped his arm across her shoulders, kneaded her thigh or gave her soft kisses on the neck. She liked the neck kisses and responded in her best sweet flirtatious manner. They drank too many small bottles of bad red accompanied with NSW trains uninspiring hot meals and soggy sandwiches.

She wondered how he could love her after such a short time. Sure she always looked good, was good in bed but she didn’t really connect with him. There was something missing and she immediately assumed it was her.

She told him she had a whopping Spotify music library and asked if he wanted to listen to some of her favourite tracks. Jo Cocker, The Who, The Stones. She loved their loud freedom and raunchy beats. They always had a 70’s music night at one of her favourite pubs in Newtown where she and her flatmate Ros held the floor with their practised 70’s routines.

That day she learnt he preferred ballads and country music and she decided that could be a problem. It was time for a break in conversation. She’d had too much wine and leant her head on his shoulder and fell asleep.

It was dark when they arrived at Broadmeadow Station where Steve had parked his work ute. He said it was only a 10 minute drive to his house. She was completely disorientated. No bright lights in this part of the world and she sat low in her seat, feeling nervous, as they wound through quiet suburban streets.

“Like, what am I doing here with this man who I barely know in a strange place with no back-up. “ she thought. I should have let Ros know where I was going – shared the address with her! “what was I thinking? “

“It’s Ok she’s got my number. I’ll text her. Shit my battery is out!

When they arrived at a neat brick bungalow backing onto “nothing” she continued to feel uneasy. He said she’d love the view in the morning. The house backed onto paddocks and the river. He’d make breakfast. Did she like bacon and eggs with tomato and mushrooms? They’d only ever shared coffee and croissants for breakfast from her local café.

When he turned on the hall light there was an eerie stillness to the house. It smelt like cement and timber. It appeared to be completely empty. They passed by a large empty lounge room, two empty bedrooms, an unfinished kitchen and bathroom.

She gulped. Why had he lured her to this empty house? “You stupid bitch” she thought. “Up to your neck in it again.”

“Of course he couldn’t really like me. He had another more sinister motive!” She was frightened and turned to flee.

He grabbed her arm.

“Where are you going,” he said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He swung open the last door to the left of the hallway and turned on the light.

Before her was a beautifully appointed apartment and above an elegantly set dining table a huge sign that said “Welcome Robyn – I Love You!”

She fell into his arms sobbing.

“I truly do want to take care of you Robyn he said. Just trust me”.

Note: Read followed with a glass of wine and Renee Geyer singing Heading in the Right Direction.

© Sonia Fingleton- [email protected]