Almost an hour into the trip, Ash heard Ivy bashing the backseats of the car from inside the boot.
“Ash!” she cried, her voice muffled. “I need to get out!”
It would be cruel to keep her in there any longer, so Ash pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car. He opened up the boot, finding Ivy in a tangled mess. The boxes had moved during the journey, and she had been almost pinned against the rear car seats.
Ash shoved boxes out of the way and helped her out. Her skin was wet and clammy, a sure sign of definite terror.
“Never again,” she whimpered. “I’d rather fight than be cooped up in there.”
He guided Ivy to the passenger’s seat. Her face was still pale, her eyes weary. Ash gave her a bottle of water and instructed her to drink.
Even though the car was air-conditioned, the summer rays were doing their best to penetrate through the windscreen.
“Where are we?” she asked, in between gulps. “Are we over the border yet?”
Now that the car was stationary, Ash took a moment to give her a reply.
“Yes, we are in South Australia. We’re still travelling on a dirt road, but it won’t be long until we’re back on the main highway. Our first stop will be at Yunta, where we will refuel the car and have a quick break.”
“And how far are we from Yunta?”
“At least another hour, maybe longer.”
She nodded, but still seemed uneasy.
“You said there were British soldiers – how did you sneak by them?”
Ash really hadn’t given it much thought. He made up a lie on the spot.
“I created a distraction and drove by without them noticing. I also stopped briefly to pick up a gun. I’m now armed with a rifle.”
Ivy relaxed a little, but not by much. Ash then told her to put on her seatbelt and they pulled back onto the road once again. They drove in silence for a very long time. Ivy had fiddled with the radio a couple of times, but the technology was so old it failed to pick up a signal. Instead, they endured the trip in silence.
Occupied by his own thoughts, time flew by and Ash nearly missed Yunta’s one and only petrol station. He pulled into the driveway and rolled in front of the bowsers. Although he had seen his parents pump petrol when he was a young child, Ash had never done it himself. Thankfully, there were instructions pinned beside it.
“Can I get out and stretch my legs for a bit?” asked Ivy, and when Ash gave her approval she added, “I need some fresh air.”
She hopped out of the car. He did likewise. He walked around to the fuel door on the Holden and unscrewed the cap. After deliberating between the three different pumps, Ash selected a nozzle and slotted it into the hole. He grasped a hand around the pump and gave the lever a squeeze. Something juddered inside the bowser and the metre began to clock up numbers.
Ash still wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but it seemed right.
Soon enough, the pump cut out. He figured the car was as full as it’d ever be, so he replaced the nozzle and screwed the cap back on.
Walking back to the driver’s side of the car, Ash grabbed the bankcard and wandered over to the service station’s main doors.
The station had definitely seen better days. The exterior looked worn, even crumbling in places. The once white-painted bricks were coated in a thick layer of dust, and the station’s signage had faded significantly under the harsh sun.
There was also a lone payphone out the very front, which was a rare sighting, but even more surprisingly? It still had a receiver attached.
Just as the automatic doors quivered open, Ash noticed the advertisements in the service station’s windows hadn’t been changed in perhaps – decades.
Ash didn’t know what a Bubble O’ Bill was, but he suspected he’d never be able to buy one for a dollar twenty these days.
Before paying for the petrol, Ash strolled through the food aisles, looking to pick up a few extra treats for the extensive journey ahead.
He grabbed a basket by the door and selected a few confectionary items, such as chocolate and jelly beans. He was also thrilled when he found a packet of butterscotch toffees. Before claiming any more food products, Ash quickly checked the used by dates – just to be sure.
When everything was to his satisfaction, Ash then walked down the toiletries aisle. Magenta had kindly provided them with the basic necessities such as toothbrushes, deodorant and soap, but something else caught his eye – condoms.
He and Ivy hadn’t really taken any precautions in the past, but she never seemed to be able to keep her hands off him. Admittedly, he’d been enjoying the physical company too.
After only a minute of deliberation, he picked up a pack of twelve and tossed it into his basket. Just as he turned to head to the checkout, he stopped, stepped back and also picked up a box of ribbed rubbers too because – why not? Maybe Ivy would appreciate the variety.
On his way to the pay station, a stack of newspapers caught his eye. He stepped towards them and glanced at the front page. The main article was a soft news story about an Australian soldier saving his team from an air strike. All positive.
Censorship was clearly at play.
Ash carried on and took his basket to the pay station. There was a man, probably somewhere in his fifties, working behind the counter.
“Did you fill up too?” asked the man, pointing to the bowsers.
Ash nodded twice.
The man then scanned the items in the basket – fighting back a chuckle as he found the condoms – and then displayed the total cost.
“That’ll be three hundred and eighty-seven bucks.”
Ash handed over the bankcard. The cashier frowned.
“You don’t have a card with a Skye-chip?”
Ash shook his head.
“Ha, next you’ll be trying to pay me in cash,” chortled the man, and he pulled out an old bankcard machine and processed the payment.
Once Ash entered his pin – four zeros, he remembered – the man bagged the goods and handed the bankcard back to him.
“Have a good one,” he said, drumming his fingers on the counter. “See ya.”
Ash mouthed a thank you and headed back to the automatic doors. Stepping outside, he found Ivy leaning up against the payphone. She had her head hung low, unmoving.
He rested a hand on her. She flinched a little.
“Ash?” she said, looking up.
Sealing a hand around hers, he helped Ivy walk back to the car. She groaned a little as she climbed into the passenger’s seat.
Once Ash was back behind the wheel, he assessed Ivy for a moment.
“Are you still feeling ill?”
“Like death,” she replied, pulling the sunglasses away from her face.
Ash placed the bagged goods on Ivy’s lap. She had no reaction.
“I bought some treats to cheer you up – chocolate, jelly beans and toffees.”
Ivy pulled a face of disgust and tried to hand the bag back to Ash.
“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I’d be able to keep it down.”
Ash tossed the sweets aside and took a more playful approach.
“I also bought condoms – your choice of regular or ribbed. We can try them out when we get to Quorn, if you’re feeling up to it.”
“It might be too late for that,” said Ivy, on the verge of tears.
“What do you mean?”
“I need you to go back in to the service station,” she winced. “I want you to buy a pregnancy test.”
***
He sat, hands clinched together, waiting for the impending results.
After finding a hotel in Quorn, Ash immediately assisted Ivy in the bathroom as she took the pregnancy test. Knowing it would take a few minutes for the confirmation to appear, they had both sat down at the foot of the king bed. In silence.
Ash had given Ivy the stick to hold while they waited, but soon enough she nudged him and held out the test towards him.
“You’re going to have to look at this and tell me what you see,” said Ivy.
He exhaled, took the stick from her hand and then glanced down at the results window. A blue cross was displayed.
He stared, feeling the world breakdown around him.
“Ash?” she asked. “It’s positive, right?”
He tapped his foot on the ground, telling her yes.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, yet the word still seemed to echo around them.
When the initial shock surpassed, Ash tried to work through the implications of yet another quandary, but he was left with one devastating truth; he’d sabotaged his plans once again.
Earlier today he’d seized an opportunity to reconnect with the British military, offering Ivy as a bargaining chip, but who in their right mind would grant Ash an honourable discharge when he’d knocked up his own damn hostage?
He’d be taken as a prisoner himself. Without doubt.
Ivy placed her hands onto her stomach; they began to tremble. Just when Ash feared she was on the cusp of a conniption, Ivy flipped on the defence.
“You should’ve told me you weren’t clamped,” she snarled.
Taken aback by her bellicosity, Ash fumbled with his tablet – nearly dropping it – and made a blunt reply,
“What?”
“You were a prisoner on a friggin’ British naval ship, Ash! Surely it’s common practice that they clamp all male prisoners so they can’t impregnate the female ones.”
“Why would you assume something so ludicrous?”
“Don’t!” she yelled, pounding a fist into his shoulder. “It’s a very standard procedure. The Australian army do it with prisoners all the time.”
Finally, Ash couldn’t bring himself to hold back.
“I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous. The British don’t perform vasectomies on their male prisoners, Ivy. They simply keep them separated from the female ones. Besides, this is all irrelevant now, isn’t it?”
“You still could’ve said something...” she said, her voice trailing off. “How was I supposed to know we never used protection?”
“Then by the same logic you should’ve mentioned you had no hormone implant. What if I assumed you were on birth control pills?”
“When have you ever seen me using friggin’ birth control pills? It was not all my bloody responsibility.”
“I never said it was, Ivy. We are both at fault.”
She exhaled, loudly. Ivy had mentioned months ago that she never had any desire to start a family, but Ash had always wanted children of his own – but not with her.
And certainly not in their current circumstance.
“So,” said Ivy, dragging out the word. “What are we going to do?”
“It’s your body. It’s your decision.”
“No, don’t you dare palm this all on to me. This involves both of us.”
Although Ash supported a woman’s right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, he’d never found himself in a position where his opinion mattered – until now. Ash didn’t even know what to tell her.
His conscience suggested he was not in favour of an abortion, but if she didn’t, it would destroy his chances to ever make it back home to England. On the other hand, Ivy would always have the final say. If she carried the baby to full term, his creation would be born during a heinous world war, with two handicapped parents from conflicting armies.
The kid would need counselling as early as infancy.
Ivy was waiting for his reply. There was no right answer. He suspected Ivy would probably make the choice regardless of his input anyway.
Ash gave her an ambiguous solution to the problem.
“Whatever you think is best, I will support your decision.”
Ivy shook her head, disgruntled.
“I need to know how you feel, Ash. I need some guidance right now,” said Ivy, lowering her voice. “I’m pro-choice, by the way. I’m not all that liberal, but when it comes to women’s choices about their bodies, I am. That said...I just don’t see myself aborting this baby.”
Ash held his breath, unblinking.
“It probably seems weird to you that I’ve slayed hundreds in my ten-year service, yet I’m against killing an unborn embryo no bigger than a walnut. But I just can’t bring myself to do it,” she quivered, beginning to cry. “And maybe it’s because I love you.”
Just like that, she compromised his entire operation yet again.
Ivy turned her head in his general direction, trying to fight away tears as she waited for yet another reply. Ash stared, wishing the floor would turn to quicksand.
He had already fed her so many lies; did it really matter if he made another one? Yet this time, Ash couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe he feared he felt something too.
Staring down at his tablet, loathing the painful realisation, Ash knew he couldn’t just leave her hanging. He started typing, then hit enter.
“Whatever happens, I won’t abandon you. I promise.”
She fell into his arms, weeping with joy, but Ash remained trepid.
He doubted he’d ever keep his word.