As they waited at a light, Marissa looked at the parade of sunburnt faces. Many of the men had sandy blond hair and angular jaws.
“They remind me of Robert,” Marissa said.
“Forget Robert!” Wendy said.
“At least for now.”
During the flight, Marissa had told Wendy about her experience at Robert’s office. Wendy had been horrified and sympathetic.
“No wonder you’d been so eager to leave,” Wendy had said.
“I don’t know what I’ll do when I get back,” Marissa had said.
“If Robert and Donna are truly having an affair, then our marriage is over.”
The taxi entered a large square lined with palm trees.
“That’s your hotel over there,” the driver said, pointing with his free hand. Then, hooking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “On the other side, that sandstone building with the clock tower, that’s Brisbane City Hall. Built in the twenties. It’s got a great marble staircase. There’s a good view of the whole city from the top.”
Checking into the hotel was effortless. Soon the women found themselves in a plainly decorated, air-conditioned room with a city view that included a portion of the Brisbane River.
After hanging up some of their clothes, they spread out on their respective beds.
“Are you as tired as I am?” Wendy asked.
“I sure am,” Marissa said.
“But it’s a good exhaustion: like a catharsis. I’m glad we came and I’m eager to see some of the city.”
“All I need is a shower and a nap,” Wendy said.
“Who’s the tour director?”
“Sounds good to me,” Marissa said.
“But I don’t think we should sleep too long. Otherwise we won’t be able to adjust to the time difference. I think we should call the desk and have someone wake us up in a couple of hours. Then we could do some sightseeing.
We’ll save the clinic for tomorrow when we’re fresh.”
“I want to find out about getting out to the Great Barrier Reef,” Wendy said.
“I can’t wait. I’ve heard it’s the best diving in the world.”
“Why don’t you hop in the shower first?” Marissa said.
“I want to look up Female Care Australia in the phone book and figure out where it is on the city map.”
Wendy didn’t argue. She scooted off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom while Marissa flipped through the phone book on the night-table between the beds. The clinic was located in a nearby suburb called Herston. Checking the map provided by the hotel, she noted that Herston was just north of Brisbane. She grabbed a scratch pad bearing the hotel’s name to write down the address.
Marissa. was about to replace the phone book when she thought about Tristan Williams. Opening the directory to the his, she ran her finger down the column.
Just then, the door to the bathroom opened. Steam billowed out.
“Your turn,” Wendy called. She had one towel wrapped around her head, another around her body.
“I can’t believe how good it felt, especially washing my hair.”
“Our pathologist friend’s not in the phone book,” Marissa said.
Wendy smiled.
“That would have been too easy.”
Marissa put the phone book away, then stepped into the bathroom for her shower.
When the phone rang, Marissa had trouble rousing herself.
Groggily she groped for the receiver. A cheerful voice at the other end of the line told her it was noon. Marissa hardly knew what to make of it. It wasn’t until she saw Wendy soundly sleeping in the bed next to her that she recalled where she was.
Lying back down again, Marissa almost fell back to sleep. But remembering her own advice, she forced herself to get up. For the moment she was so exhausted that she was nauseated, yet she knew she had to adapt to the time difference.
Wendy hadn’t budged. Getting unsteadily to her feet, Marissa. gently shook her friend’s shoulder.
“Wendy!” Marissa called softly. Then louder: “Wendy, time to wake up.”
“Already?” Wendy asked groggily. She pushed herself up to a sitting position. Then she groaned.
“Oh, my word! I feel awful.”
Marissa nodded.
“I know it’s hard; I’m still exhausted. It feels like midnight but it’s only noon. We’d better get used to it.”