use against the bitch. Read her deep, dark thoughts, delve into her sick mind, and find some reference to Savannah’s kidnapping.
Excited with my find, I sit on the bed and start paging through the diary.
“O…kay…”
3 rd January
Dear Diary, I’m sorry, but I’m no longer going to keep you. When I told Tom I kept a diary, he became really upset. He worried someone will find it and read about our precious love.
“Burn it,” he said.
I jerk upright.
Tom didn’t want me to keep a diary. Once, I hid my diary from him. When I returned home from shopping, the diary was in his hand. After spending an hour reading through it and mocking me, he burnt it in the kitchen sink.
“Oh my God, Ritchie,” I hiss, “she’s our woman and her diary, it’s about Tom!”
“Great!”
“But it’s not in order.”
“Bring it, Arena.”
“Eh, there’s like six books here,” I say, as I fish through all the bibles. “Maybe a garbage bag?”
“Nope, don’t use a garbage bag. It’s something people notice. Find some of those green Woolworth shopping bags. Use them.”
“Okay…” I read some more.
I said, “Okay,” but I can’t bring myself to burn you. You are my best friend.
But, for now, I have to say goodbye. (Sad face.)
Quickly, I run downstairs, scout around for some bags, find a few, and run upstairs. I place all the diaries in the bag, then put the boxes neatly back in the cupboard where I found them.
“You need to get out of there,” Ritchie says.
“Leaving right now,” I say, as I walk into the other bedrooms, photograph them, and then leave the house through the back door with my green shopping bags and my flowers.
As I race home, with Ritchie driving behind me, I call Bear and fill him in on everything.
“Anything we can use against her for Savannah’s kidnapping?”
“I don’t know about that as of yet but, Bear, it’s her. For sure.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m certain of it. I feel we may find our answers in her diary.”
“O…kay, then. I’ll get off early and come home.”
“You do that.”
As I drive home, I can’t help it; at every traffic light, I’m reading a little. It’s very very interesting.
The moment I get home, humming Blondie’s One Way or Another, I dash around to get my chores done, (only the important ones), stick a dressed chicken in the oven for dinner, make myself a cup of coffee, and scramble to sequence the diaries in order of dates.
“I’m gonna find you …”
3 rd December
Dear Diary, I’ve been feeling really homesick for Jakarta today. More than ever. The last three months have been hell but today, I had a meltdown.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t been able to eat and am sleeping badly.
I think it all took its toll on me and this morning, as I was driving to work, at a traffic light, I saw a travel agency advertising flights to Indonesia. Right then and there, I broke down and cried.
My island home, how I miss it.
When I arrived at work, my face was red and my eyes were swollen. Everyone asked me if I was okay.
I said ‘yes,’ but, of course, I wasn’t. They wouldn’t understand if I told them. They’re all Aussies and they just don’t understand us whining immigrants.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Australia but I really miss my family. Everything is so different here and I feel lost.
But quitting is out of the question and going back home is not an option, so I will act strong, stay focused, and see this through and soon. Can’t let my family down. Have to be a good example to my brothers and sisters.
They are so proud of me for taking such a giant step and immigrating to Australia on my own. Imagine if I went back and told them I have failed?
Can’t do that.
5 th December
Dear Diary, I think the fact that I am working this Christmas is what’s making me so blue. I’ve managed to pinpoint the problem.
I try really hard not to think about my family and the Christmas tree and all the presents
Excited with my find, I sit on the bed and start paging through the diary.
“O…kay…”
3 rd January
Dear Diary, I’m sorry, but I’m no longer going to keep you. When I told Tom I kept a diary, he became really upset. He worried someone will find it and read about our precious love.
“Burn it,” he said.
I jerk upright.
Tom didn’t want me to keep a diary. Once, I hid my diary from him. When I returned home from shopping, the diary was in his hand. After spending an hour reading through it and mocking me, he burnt it in the kitchen sink.
“Oh my God, Ritchie,” I hiss, “she’s our woman and her diary, it’s about Tom!”
“Great!”
“But it’s not in order.”
“Bring it, Arena.”
“Eh, there’s like six books here,” I say, as I fish through all the bibles. “Maybe a garbage bag?”
“Nope, don’t use a garbage bag. It’s something people notice. Find some of those green Woolworth shopping bags. Use them.”
“Okay…” I read some more.
I said, “Okay,” but I can’t bring myself to burn you. You are my best friend.
But, for now, I have to say goodbye. (Sad face.)
Quickly, I run downstairs, scout around for some bags, find a few, and run upstairs. I place all the diaries in the bag, then put the boxes neatly back in the cupboard where I found them.
“You need to get out of there,” Ritchie says.
“Leaving right now,” I say, as I walk into the other bedrooms, photograph them, and then leave the house through the back door with my green shopping bags and my flowers.
As I race home, with Ritchie driving behind me, I call Bear and fill him in on everything.
“Anything we can use against her for Savannah’s kidnapping?”
“I don’t know about that as of yet but, Bear, it’s her. For sure.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m certain of it. I feel we may find our answers in her diary.”
“O…kay, then. I’ll get off early and come home.”
“You do that.”
As I drive home, I can’t help it; at every traffic light, I’m reading a little. It’s very very interesting.
The moment I get home, humming Blondie’s One Way or Another, I dash around to get my chores done, (only the important ones), stick a dressed chicken in the oven for dinner, make myself a cup of coffee, and scramble to sequence the diaries in order of dates.
“I’m gonna find you …”
3 rd December
Dear Diary, I’ve been feeling really homesick for Jakarta today. More than ever. The last three months have been hell but today, I had a meltdown.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t been able to eat and am sleeping badly.
I think it all took its toll on me and this morning, as I was driving to work, at a traffic light, I saw a travel agency advertising flights to Indonesia. Right then and there, I broke down and cried.
My island home, how I miss it.
When I arrived at work, my face was red and my eyes were swollen. Everyone asked me if I was okay.
I said ‘yes,’ but, of course, I wasn’t. They wouldn’t understand if I told them. They’re all Aussies and they just don’t understand us whining immigrants.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Australia but I really miss my family. Everything is so different here and I feel lost.
But quitting is out of the question and going back home is not an option, so I will act strong, stay focused, and see this through and soon. Can’t let my family down. Have to be a good example to my brothers and sisters.
They are so proud of me for taking such a giant step and immigrating to Australia on my own. Imagine if I went back and told them I have failed?
Can’t do that.
5 th December
Dear Diary, I think the fact that I am working this Christmas is what’s making me so blue. I’ve managed to pinpoint the problem.
I try really hard not to think about my family and the Christmas tree and all the presents
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