One Day You'll Find Me

Chapter Seven

It took me eight weeks to stop bursting into tears at the mention of her name, the mention of anything that could relate to her. After that, I don't think I ever really moved on from her. She had left an imprint too big on my heart for me to 'get over her' as my kind father delighted in telling me. There was one thing that kept me from completely losing it; one thing for which I would be forever grateful to Mum. When Indah and I had fallen asleep together in the paddock, my mum had walked over with her camera and snapped some of the best photos I had of us together. We looked so peaceful, so... like mother and foal. We were content. Defiant of the heartbreak about to befall us. My mum had printed a huge copy of the best shot, framed it, and hung it on the wall in front of my bed when I was at school, a few days after Indah was taken. She'd followed me upstairs to my room, and waited in the doorway for me to notice. When I did, I stared at it for a moment or so and burst into tears. I turned into her waiting arms, and we stayed like that until Damien came home. Now I stared at it every time I was in my room. I went to sleep dreaming I was huddled against Indah's side.

That was the year my father really changed. Mum and I saw him even less than we had for the previous three years. It was as if he didn't exist. Yet the ironic side to the situation was that neither of us missed him. Not one little bit.

***

I clasped my hands in front of me with the same excitement a five-year-old expresses at the prospect of ice-cream. Ros sat across from me in our favourite cafe, The Odd-Is-See, anticipating the unveiling of my news.

"So what is it?"

"Last year- actually, that's why we're here, you know. It's been exactly a year- three hundred and sixty-five heartbreaking days- marking today the historic anniversary of the twelfth of August last year."

Ros waved her hand impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, get on with it!"

I sighed dramatically. "Indah was cruelly snatched from my grasp on the twelfth of August last year by the madman of the name Damien- i.e. my father. And it's the twelfth of August today, surprise, surprise. I came up with an ingenious plan last night, one I can't believe I didn't think of before. See, it just goes to show how much I loved her, because her loss pickled my brain, and scattered it for a free picking for sparrows! As a result, I'm all over the place. Which is why I haven't been able to think straight since, and why I haven't thought of this before. Like an idiot. Now, it's probably too late..." I sighed again.

"For crying out loud! You sound like a crazed version of a monologue diary entry in a history book!" Ros exclaimed. She smiled cheekily, then acquired a British accent. "And here is the very spot where the brain of the ingenious Maria Pearce received the devastating blow across the side of the head by a simple glass full of red currant and apple juice, that moments before stood unsuspecting on the table between the woman sent insane after just minutes spent in Miss Pearce's company, and Miss Pearce herself- much to the shock of the small town cafe the two girls had frequented separately. It is believed Miss Pearce was revealing another of her ingenious plans, but no one knows what it could have been, as Miss Pearce was speaking in riddles!"

"Rosina!" I laughed. "But there is no glass of said red currant and apple juice for you to smash across my head, so I will continue to speak in crazed riddles if I so desire!"

"Hmm. No, but there will be. Jean!" She called out to our friend.

"Excuse me!" I said in mock-offense.

She waved me away as Jean came over, ready to take our orders. "Hey Jean. I'll have a red currant and apple juice in a glass, please, and pronto." She sent me a 'so there' look.