Memphis Wills wants out of Whitehaven, the tiny village she's lived in her whole life. So aged sixteen she leaves for college in the city and never looks back.
Until five years later when she finally wises up and leaves her dirt bag boyfriend. Fee...
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"Why don't you borrow your mum's car? Get out of the village for a bit."
I tear my eyes away from the four new messages and five missed calls from Jeremiah, looking up from my phone to see Dad standing in front of me. My toast sits untouched on my plate.
"Sorry, my brain feels a bit foggy today. Mum's car?"
Dad looks like he wants to say something but instead he rubs my shoulder before he picks up his rucksack. He'd told me last night that he was off to Ferndale to take some pictures. He'd invited me along, but I'd declined. Now I wish I'd taken up his offer.
"The keys are hanging by the door, Labrador keyring. The car's in the garage. It can be a little temperamental, mind you. But the option's there if you need to escape for a while."
I clear up my dish once Dad's left for the day. Presley's already gone to Rockport to hang out with some friends. Even Norm's ignoring me, spread out in a spot of sun on the kitchen floor. He doesn't move to follow me when I run upstairs to grab my camera and my bag.
I check my appearance in the long hallway mirror. My mom jeans are light blue, decorated with embroidered cherries and I've tucked a white t-shirt into the waistband. It's warm out today, my bedroom window letting in a light breeze as I spritz on some perfume and thread silver hoops through my ears.
Mum's jacket is my go-to these days and I drop it on the driveway beside my bag while I fiddle with the lock on the garage door. It unclicks relatively easily, and I push the door upwards, my eyes landing on Mum's old VW Polo, the grey paint chipped around the doors like it's always been.
It smells of Mum's perfume once I'm seated in the drivers side, her old car air fresheners hanging from the mirror in the shape of colourful Labradors. I wonder if Norm is missing Mum as much as me. I slot the key into the ignition, but the engine does nothing but splutter. Great. Two more tries and nothing more happens.
I get back out of the car, stomping around to the bonnet but there's no point in pretending that I know what I'm doing. Dad had made sure I'd know how to change a tire but checking an engine was something else entirely.
I'm mumbling to myself about having to stay inside all day again when a car pulls up on the adjacent drive and I say a silent prayer to myself that it's Mrs Rivers and not an annoyingly handsome rugby player.
"Memphis? Are you alright there, Doll?"
I sigh in relief but when I turn my heart stutters at the sight of Jack and Mrs River's standing side by side.
"Car won't start," I manage, my eyes flitting to the green Land Rover parked behind them. No Porsche today?
"Ahh, Jack can sort you out, Memphis. He's good with his hands."
I'm so red I can't even pretend that they can't see my embarrassment at Mrs River's choice of words, twice in one sentence.
"It's ok," I try. "I'll wait until my dad's home later."
