December 2019 Joint Winner - Tess Rowley

When Worlds Collide

Written by: Tess Rowley

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‘Have you seen the new neighbour?’ Mrs Briggs from number four stood in the supermarket aisle chatting to Pearl, from number eight. ‘She was sweeping the veranda in very revealing swimmers. Doesn’t she know it’s winter?’

‘And hosing it off. Someone should tell her we’re on water restrictions. It’s these foreigners who cause all the problems.’ Pearl was away! Her eldest still hadn’t found work, lazed in bed all morning. Got up around noon, then off with his mates till late. ‘He’d be earning his own money if it wasn’t for these outsiders taking all the jobs.’

‘You’re so right.’ Mrs Briggs affirmed. ‘I notice she doesn’t have a husband. Goes out a lot though, every night in fact,’ she added jubilantly.

By the time the two women had put all the world to rights, aisle three was being avoided by shoppers trying to get past.

Meanwhile, at number six, Charlotte Donnelly was preparing to attend a training afternoon for volunteers at Lifeline. She’d hoped to get into the counselling course, but the next program was months away. She agreed to learn the retail side with the chance to volunteer in one of their Op Shops. As she walked along the street towards the bus stop, the big boy from number eight was heading out too. She waved and gave him a smile.

A surprised ‘Hi’ from the boy punctured the air as he sped ahead.

He was waiting at the bus stop. She stood alongside him. ‘I’m new here, still finding my way around,’ she explained, as she studied the bus information on the shelter wall.

‘Where ya goin?’

‘To the shopping centre in town.’ 

Pearl couldn’t wait to see Mrs Briggs again. ‘Do you know she goes shopping all day? To the city. Our shops can’t be good enough. Must be getting Centrelink money.’

‘Or maybe those night-time pursuits could be bringing in the dollars.’ Mrs Briggs eyes gleamed. ‘Goes out looking all flash, sometimes carrying an overnight bag. Must be anticipating a change of clothes.’

‘Got any kids?’ the boy asked, the next time they met at the bus stop.

Her face clouded, as if the sun had suddenly disappeared.  ‘Yes, three. We’re from the country so Mum’s looking after them while I’m here.’

The women glistened with gossip. The stories rolled on.

Meanwhile, Charlotte volunteered at Lifeline. ‘I like to think I’m giving something back,’ she told the manager. And every evening she visited her beloved husband in a major city hospital, required now for his intense treatment, taking clean clothes for his day therapy. She always stayed till he was asleep, humming quietly one of their favourite songs from years earlier. ‘You’re my world, you are my night and day, you’re my world, you’re every prayer I pray.’ Then kissing him lightly on the cheek, she’d tip-toe outside, catch the bus, and head back to number six.