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Late the next January, when she returned to school, there was a surprise in store for her. Corey, one of the boys in her class, began to pay her some attention, coming up at recess and chatting a little, wanting to walk her to the bus stop after school, and asking if he could text her now and then. All this flustered Peta somewhat, but pleased her more. However she had many questions to ask herself and, perhaps, her dad. Could Corey be trusted? What sort of boy was he, anyway? What was he really after?
So one evening she asked her father, “Dad, do you think it’s OK to exchange texts with a boy?”
He slowly answered, “Well, if you know him and think he’s OK. But maybe don’t go sending any pictures of yourself, or let him do that either. You know what happened with your cousin”.
Peta, remembering this, as well as her recent steady weight gain and increasing self-consciousness about her appearance, said, “Oh no, I wouldn’t do that”.
Over the next few weeks Corey and she did exchange texts, just friendly, non-demanding messages about maybe meeting on the weekend, what did they think of Mr Marsh, and even what to do after Year 12. But wherever this gentle connection may have led, it was all short-circuited when Peta was given a remarkable opportunity. A slowly spreading tide of gentrification had begun to seep even into their district, and the main town did not escape. Visiting with her dad one Saturday for the big weekly shop, she noticed a new café, Frederick’s, and a sign, ‘Hiring Now’. On an impulse, she went in. The owner, Frederick himself, a pleasant, shrewd man of about 40, looked up. He was seeking someone ‘interested in hospitality, experienced in cooking, willing to learn restaurant techniques and processes, able to work in a team, willing to commence an apprenticeship, and keen to bring something really new to this exciting town’. One look at Peta and ten minutes’ conversation convinced him he had found the right person.
So this is where we see her, some time later. She is eighteen, she has left school after Year 12, she catches the bus to and from work six days a week, she is a keen, hardworking apprentice, she is learning as much as she can as fast as possible, she has returned to her usual tense, focused expression (rarely absent now), she gives all the money she can to her family, she has no time for boys, she has put on even more weight (she had always had her mother’s build, short, strong and square) - now she has trouble with even a few stairs - and she is so constantly worried that she can’t get to sleep easily any more. And something has gone wrong. One evening at the restaurant the tray slipped, the hot oil narrowly missed her leg, her colleague rushed to her side, Frederick himself came in and said she had to rest, and her father was called. Today she is in the waiting room for a medical checkup in thirty minutes. Something has gone wrong. This is her first visit to the clinic.
Possibly not the last.
