A Mother's Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

possible, in 1987 I bought a round-the-world ticket to Australia, never expecting that I would fall in love with the place.
    I arrived in Brisbane on Melbourne Cup Day. I distinctly recall complete strangers passing me in the street and being so overtly friendly I wondered if we had met before. They couldn’t have been more hospitable. And to a person, at the end of every conversation, no matter how short, they’d say, ‘See you later.’ It confused me, because I had only just met them and couldn’t work out where or why they thought they were going to see me again.
    I picked my way up the east coast, joining the throng of backpackers from all over the world doing likewise. There was whitewater rafting in Tully and deep-sea diving in Cairns, and a stint spent working as a cleaner in a hostel on Cape Tribulation (where the resident bush pig, Lola, would sleep under my bed).
    I was meeting all these young English people who hated England and were busily working out ways to stay in Australia. One guy, Nick, had even been creative enough to scan the obituary pages of a local newspaper and assume the identity of a recently deceased local. But I liked England and wanted to goback. To my mind, I was just having a lovely holiday. It was all a great experience, but I certainly had no intention of living in Australia. The weather and the people – or at least those I had met in far north Queensland – were too extreme. The mosquitoes alone were enough to drive me south. And so, when I met Janet, I took up her invitation to head back down the coast.
    Janet worked for a TV network as a set designer. Within a week or so of arriving in Melbourne, she invited me to an engagement party for someone called Leonie.
    From the first time we met, Leonie and I hit it off. We had similar outlooks on life and a similar determination to wring every ounce of enjoyment out of each day. Leonie was there at the very beginning of my Australian experience and remains one of my dearest friends to this day.
    At Leonie’s party I also happened upon a charming bloke who I will call Jake. He worked as a stage hand on various TV shows. Almost immediately I found myself part of a group of like-minded friends enjoying life in our mid twenties. Not long after the party, I accepted Jake’s invitation to join his share house, where I cleaned and cooked for him and his flatmates in return for a room.
    I found a temp job, working in the office of a cemetery. I was the typist, incredibly timid – and the only female in the workplace. It was just me and the gravediggers. I wanted to do the job well, but I was scared to ask any questions. I was there for a whole week before I dared venture into the tearoom to make myself a cup of coffee, only to turn promptly on my heel at the sight of a wall plastered with Playboy posters and a toilet that looked like something out of The Young Ones . Despite travelling to the other side of the world and fending for myself, I was still a sheltered country girl at heart.
    When I first arrived in Brisbane, I was too scared to ask people for directions, too intimidated to go into trendy boutiques and much too scared to set foot in a flash restaurant. People often think I am this tower of unshakeable confidence, when the truth is I have a lot of self-doubt and need a lot of reassurance. Over the years I’ve had to force myself to act confident and self-assured.
    With my round-the-world ticket about to expire, I said goodbye to Jake, the housemates, Janet and the gravediggers, and set the compass for home via New Zealand and a brief stopover in Canada to see my old friend from Austria, Coleen.
    Arriving back in Laneham, I was immediately struck by how small it seemed. And so I was torn. Did I tend to the itch in my feet and return to Australia? To give a nascent romance with Jake a proper go? To try my hand in a country where I had to admit I felt completely at ease? Or did I stay in my homeland and