‘I don’t, uh …’ she trailed off.
‘You’ve just arrived in town?’
Alice nodded.
‘Literally?’
‘Yep.’
‘Are you a FIFO worker?’
She frowned.
‘Fly in, fly out?’
Shook her head.
‘Have you got a place to stay?’
Alice didn’t answer. He scribbled something on a notepad and tore the top sheet off.
‘Go to the Bluff Pub. Ask for Merle. Tell her I sent you.’ He handed her the note.
‘Thanks.’ Alice took it, her eyes drifting over the letterhead. Moss Fletcher. Agnes Bluff Veterinarian. Moss. She remembered a page of the Thornfield Dictionary. Moss. Love without exception. She mumbled some parting remarks and left as quickly as she could.
When Alice walked outside, the dry heat hit her like an invisible wall. Nothing about this place was familiar. The sky was a bleached blue, empty and stretching without end. There was no hint of river water, or flower fragrance. Her head spun and her pulse quickened.
Alice stumbled towards her truck, overcome by the rapid sound of her beating heart. She struggled to breathe as she reached for her door handle but couldn’t grasp it. Her hands cramped and clawed inwards. Memories came back to her; the ocean and the fire roared indistinguishably.
She tried closing her eyes. Tried breathing through the panic. Tried to protect herself, before everything turned black.
Moss did a last check on the animals before he closed up. Alice’s puppy was medicated and sleeping. He walked out into the blazing afternoon, which was heavy with the scent of diesel fumes and takeaway chicken from the fast food shop next door. The smell reminded him of what lay ahead: another night at home, alone.
He crossed the car park to his van, noticing a bright yellow truck. Alice Hart, Floriographer. Thornfield Farm, where wildflowers bloom. There was no one inside. Rounding the tail-end he found Alice collapsed on the bitumen, her nose bleeding.
Moss rushed to her, repeating her name. She didn’t move. Her skin was frighteningly pale. He checked her breathing and her pulse. Pulled his mobile out of his pocket and punched in the speed dial for the medical centre. He was careful not to move her. When the doctor answered, Moss responded to her questions robotically, his heart racing.
Please, not again.
It wasn’t an ocean of fire; Alice floated on a river. A river made of stars. They painted her skin silver-green. She lay on her back watching as they rained down from the night sky. Some got caught in the tallest branches of the silhouetted gum trees. Others stuck in her eyelashes, and between her toes. She swallowed a few. They tasted sweet and cool. She gathered an armful, surprised by their lightness, and carefully set them around her. A circle of stars. Inside which, nothing hurt.
Alice spluttered as she came to consciousness, thinking she was spitting out stars.
‘Oggi,’ she slurred.
‘Yes, Alice, you’ll be a bit groggy. Easy does it.’
Alice looked up. A woman smiled at her as she shone a light in each of Alice’s eyes. The sensation agitated her memory; she was in a hospital bed in a white room. There was a needle in her arm. She winced and rolled her head away. A man sat stiffly in the chair beside her bed, staring at her. He raised his hand. Alice lifted her fingers to wave back. The vet. He was the vet. Moss Something. Love without exception.
‘You’re on a saline drip, Alice. You were quite badly dehydrated. It’s something we see often in visitors not used to the desert heat. That’s probably why you fainted.’ The woman wore a white coat with Dr Kira Hendrix sewn above the pocket. ‘Routine questions now. Do you have a history of low blood pressure in your family?’
Alice didn’t know. She shook her head.
‘What about anxiety, or panic attacks?’
‘Not since I was a kid,’ she answered quietly.
‘And what brought them on?’
The wind blowing? The sight of a flower? The lingering flame of a dream?
‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered.
‘Are you on any prescribed medication?’
Alice shook her head again.
‘Luckily your nose isn’t broken and will heal in good time. Plenty of rest, for now. Lots of fluids. At the sign of anything worrying, come back and see me. Moss said you’ve just arrived in town today?’
Alice nodded.
‘Where are you staying?’
Alice glanced over at Moss. He held eye contact for a moment before speaking.
‘At the pub, doc. A room at the pub.’
‘Hmmm,’ the doctor said again. She patted Alice’s shoulder, then turned to look at Moss with an eyebrow raised. ‘A word?’
They huddled in the opposite corner. Alice glanced sidelong at them. Dr Kira was gravely serious while Moss looked taken aback.
‘Great,’ Dr Kira said brightly, ending their discussion. She returned to Alice’s bedside. ‘Let’s get that drip out of your arm now, Alice, and see you on your way. Eat small meals. Plenty of sleep.’
Alice nodded, her eyes downcast.
Moss unlocked the passenger door of his van and held it open, closing it after Alice climbed wearily inside. The interior was immaculate. A cardboard tree hung from the rearview mirror, scented with an imitation of eucalyptus.
They rode in silence. Moss cleared his throat a few times.
‘I, uh, found you in the car park after I’d closed up,’ he said, not looking at her. ‘I didn’t move you, I called Dr Kira and she came and got you in the ambulance. I followed in my van.’
Alice kept her eyes straight ahead as she played through the image of him finding her unconscious. A deep sense of shame made her eyes hot. You will not cry right now.
‘Here we are,’ Moss said, pulling up at the clinic. He reached into his pocket and took out her truck keys. ‘They were in your hand when I found you.’ He sounded apologetic, as if he was responsible for her blackout.
‘Thanks,’ she said quietly. ‘For everything.’ Alice grabbed her keys from him, noticing him flinch as a sharp edge scraped his finger. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, covering her face with her hands. She sighed, shaking her head at herself. ‘Thanks,’ she said again and got out, headed for her truck. But when she saw the lettering on her door panels, she came to an abrupt stop. There it was, laid bare, everything she was trying to leave behind.
Alice Hart, Floriographer. Thornfield Farm, where wildflowers bloom.
‘So, uh, Alice?’
She turned, trying to block the door from Moss’s view.
‘You’ll be okay?’
‘Yep,’ she nodded. ‘Thanks. I’ll get a room at the pub.’
He glanced away, then back at her. ‘Dr Kira asked if I’d check in on you over the next twenty-four hours.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Would that be okay with you?’
Alice forced herself to smile. ‘Rest. Fluids. Food. Pretty sure I can manage.’ She just wanted to crawl into a bed, pull the covers over her head and not come out again. ‘Thanks, though.’
‘Yeah. Okay.’ Another long pause. ‘Well, Merle’s got my number at the pub if you need anything,’ he said, putting his van into gear. Alice nodded, relieved when he drove away.
She got into her truck and drove straight to the petrol station. After filling up, she scoured the shelves inside, stopping when she found the touch-up paint. The only colour available was turquoise. She picked up a tin, and a brush. On her way to the till, a stand of bright decals caught her eye. She grabbed a bundle, paid, and left.
In the pub car park she took to her truck in a fury with the brush and paint. In the fading light of her first day in the central desert, Alice painted who she’d been and where she’d come from into turquoise oblivion.