Here’s how it went down – the day things started to unravel.

Mack had met a guy who said he had some fantastic heads at a great price – sticky foxtails. She did a bit of business with Mack. He was business like, kept good margins, checked backgrounds, didn’t take risks. He did hardly any drugs so he was always thinking straight.  

They were two thirds of the way there before she realized that the guy they were going to see had been at their flat last week. She hadn’t liked him. Shifty guy. Broke out a joint and the four of them had shared it. He’d asked them what they thought of the gear and she asked what was in it – it had to be laced  but she hadn’t picked what it was. H, he said.

That was low – lacing stuff like that into a get-to-know you joint. If that’s what it was… As soon as he said it her mind ran a check on her high – how relaxed, how communicative, what was she seeing, how was she feeling – involved? Detached. Some sort of opiate definitely. Bastard. Now they were traveling to his place and she had a trust issue with the guy. Not good.

It got worse.

She told Mack to leave the money in the car and on the way down the driveway she moved it out of the pack and stashed it in a tampax box in the glove box.

“If I tell you to get the pack just go and start the car.”

Long driveway – the overgrown hedge hit the car going down it and Mack had the nouce to turn the car to point out before they went to the door. Old farm house – she’d seen this kind before and knew the layout. They headed round the back and found three edgy junkies waiting for them. Two guys and a woman. All strung out. It was hot.

“Where’s the gear?” she didn’t want to be civil and muck around. Behind her Mack was standing in the doorway.

“Did you bring the money?”

Wrong question. Smells all wrong.

“Where’s the gear?”

First junkie nods to the next room. It was a bedroom off the first room and the window faced out front. There was a pound unpacked on the bed and another wrapped up beside it. She could tell it wasn’t great gear before she got close to it: little heads, lots of twig and cabbage. She turned to look back and the first junkie – laced joint guy – was blocking the doorway. He was between her and Mark and coming out of his jacket was a gun.

“Its good gear isn’t it?” he said and his face was menace and desperation.  

“Right it’s what we expected”, she said, and louder “get the pack from the car hon.”

The junkie relaxed as she walked to the gear and then she didn’t know what he did because she saw Mack make it to the drivers seat and she forward rolled through the open window like some fucking stunt woman. She kept turning so her bum was landing in a big overgrown hydrangea – blue. Her elbows and palms were pushing her up and off and she stepped out and then landed in the passenger seat as he took off down the drive with her leg being whacked by the hedge until she got it inside and the door closed. Ugh. Spiders probably.  

“I take it the gear was no good” he said and she wondered whether they should think about moving out of their place and setting up somewhere else before those junkies could turn them over. I am not getting enough of a cut for all this she thought. 

He still wanted to score because they had a trip to Wellington planned in a week and he didn’t see the point going empty. They filled up in Morrinsville and he took her up a back road that became unsealed after a while. She was excited she was going to meet a new grower but she kept cool – he was very wary of her knowing his contacts and they would be wary of him passing on their id. As they pulled in the driveway he put his hand on her thigh and she knew they’d be the honeymoon couple meeting an old friend.

Sure enough he was a farmer who’d met him at school. She met the wife – Naomi – seemed pretty straight but you never knew – and admired the dog and the kids and the kitchen while he and Mack ducked of to ‘look at the tractor’. She heard the car trunk slam after a while. Two can play that game.  

“Hey”, she says, “I’ll give you my mothers phone number in case you ever want me to get hold of you. I know a lot of women in Wellington – I’m from there and I go there a lot. Some farmers wives I’ve met have a little industry. Make a bit of money on the side out of the scrub land. Nice to be able to buy a few extras. Dishwasher. That sort of thing. If you ever know anyone who’s in to that – and they want some help to meet people – maybe they don’t want to meet the people themselves – I could help with that.” 

Not an entirely bad day. She is trying hard not to smirk in the car. There’s a big bag of lemons and kiwifruit in the back – too many for Naomi to cope with. Unlike Mack she’s put no cash down but she definitely intends to make the little deposit she’s agreed to.  Next time she sees Naomi she’ll explain that she and Mack have broken up.

She needs to ring Suzanne and tell her she’s her mother.