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Lucky has to find a way to get to the party.


"Oh, okay," I feigned ignorance, "she's in Queenstown."

"Yeah, I was going to go there but I ran out of time."

She sat down and I propped on the counter as I tried to think of a reply. She almost seemed a little distracted, as if she was trying to find an excuse to get rid of me and so I launched out into the unknown.

"So, what church do you go to?"

Her eyes shifted and I detected an atmosphere of tension but then she shrugged.

"Warrandyte Baptist," she glanced at the monitor, "shit, I forgot about that email, sorry."

"No worries, I didn't hear you swear either."

She smiled briefly as she slipped her hand beneath her blouse and I backed away, feeling as if I'd crossed a boundary that shouldn't be crossed. I spent the afternoon delivering spare parts to garages and panel beaters all over the local area, my last drop actually took me past Warrandyte Baptist church and I did slow down momentarily to take it in and it was about then that fate stepped in to lend a hand when a police car flashed its lights.

Random breath tests are a feature of Australian life. You can be pulled up at any point in the day for a random test, my ex girlfriend told me that they had a certain quota they had to hit every day to satisfy the pen pushers further up the food chain. While you can argue the whys and wherefores of that system it definitely worked in my favour because I was observed by a man in the carpark and it was while I was on the phone to my supervisor afterwards that he approached me.

"Are you all right?"

"Hold on," I lowered the phone, "yeah, sorry, just a random breath test," I tried to return to the phone but Victor had hung up, "well goodbye to you too," I frowned.

"Sorry," he backed away.

"It's not you," I replied, "it's my boss, I had to tell him I'll be running late for my next drop and he just hung up without saying goodbye."

"Oh, okay," he glanced over his shoulder, "well, I'll get back to the car."

"No worries," I stared past him, "I just slowed down because I know someone who goes here."

He didn't reply to that and I continued.

"Rowena, I don't know her last name. She just started at the dealership a few weeks ago."

"I know Rowena," he sounded cautious and I found myself feeling a little queer to put it bluntly, was he her boyfriend?

"Rowena's a good girl," he went on, "she's part of a Christian rock band."

"A rock band," I frowned, "wow, she didn't seem the type if you know what I mean."

"Rowena is the singer and lead guitarist."

"Well I'll be," I stopped short, the final word is usually 'fucked' and I was trying to be diplomatic.


"Yeah, well, you learn something new every day."

We farewelled each other and I headed to my next drop, a panel beaters in Warrandyte but on the way back I pulled into the church carpark and walked over to a noticeboard that displayed church service times and various other regular things like prayer and youth groups. There at the very top was a crudely rendered flyer advertising a dance and the name of the band. The Messengers. It had a picture of the band. Rowena was wearing a white blouse and black leather trousers, and the guys all had long hair and two of them were also wearing leather trousers.

So now I had a name and yet I still felt somewhat strange approaching Rowena at work and to make it more difficult she finished at five o'clock and I knocked off at four thirty. Nevertheless, I've always been the queen of innovation and I 'volunteered' for overtime, which basically involved checking off the deliveries that had come in that morning. Because it was warmer the roller door was open and gave me a perfect view of the carpark.

However I almost missed her because I actually was working but when I heard a ringtone I looked up in time to see her answering a phone.

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