Tiddas by Anita Heiss Read Free Book Online Page A

believe it’s been more than a year since you were evacuated,’ Izzy said. ‘Or me, for that matter. At least it was only the garage that got flooded.’
    â€˜Personally, I can’t believe how the clean-up was done so quickly.’ Xanthe passed around roasted eggplant, garlic bruschetta and some grilled vegetables with tarragon vinaigrette as the women all thought back to their own flood stories.
    â€˜Well I can’t believe that someone said to me that they’d hoped we’d beat the 1974 flood,’ Ellen said. ‘I think their words were, “If we’re going to flood, we may as well break the record.” ’
    â€˜What? Who said that? That’s just fucked!’ the women responded over the top of each other, having resumed their normal way of sharing.
    â€˜Some dickhead cab driver I had, yet another reason why I ride a bike or get the City Cat most places!’ Ellen didn’t own a car, preferring to lessen her carbon footprint when she could.
    â€˜And you’re staying in Kangaroo Point, so that’s good.’ Izzy knew how much her tidda liked living close to the river, and the Story Bridge Hotel.
    â€˜Yeah, it’s my home. I love the river; it reminds me of the Cudgegong back home, only it’s five million times the size, of course. But I used to find so much peace there under thegum trees when I was young. I feel at peace being near the Brisbane River somehow too, if that makes sense at all.’
    Ellen regularly took the ferry from Thornton Street to Eagle Street Pier and then the City Cat down to Bretts Wharf and back. If she was in the mood she’d get off at New Farm Park, walk the three minutes to the Powerhouse, and have a beer and listen to music. Sunday was ‘Ellen time’. She didn’t need company to be entertained. She liked being alone. She needed time alone. She couldn’t imagine ever living with anyone. A legacy of having too many siblings, some she never heard from, even on birthdays. She wondered if removing herself from Mudgee had pissed them all off. She didn’t care at this point. If they didn’t need her, she didn’t need them either.
    The river was the most important thing in Ellen’s day; in her life. She ran and walked beside it. She lost herself looking into it. She rode it to work, to Izzy’s, to the city. The only thing she was grateful to Campbell Newman for was introducing the public bike system when he was Brisbane City Mayor. She’d often grab a bike from CT White Park and leave it at any number of designated spots around town, depending on what was on her schedule. On days when she had to visit a bereaved family or do a service that was too far to get a cab she’d book a share car. It was still cheaper and better for the environment than buying her own car.
    But it was the City Cat rides Ellen liked most. She shamelessly enjoyed perving on the ferrymen in their Hard Yakka shorts minus the bum crack made famous by tradies. She’d give each guy a score out of ten for their ‘arse shape’, and then check to see whether they wore a wedding ring or not.That flirting option was not open to her, men who had wives or partners.
    â€˜I completely understand. Walking along the river at West End totally centres me,’ Izzy nodded, knowing exactly the power of water and the calming way it affected her. It was why she got the City Cat to work each day too, because the physical motion – prior to morning sickness – and the breeze on her face made her feel alive and rejuvenated.
    â€˜And now that I’m turning forty I feel better having a place that’s all mine. In some ways the flood kicked me into gear on that front. And I’d been meaning to clear out my place for a while; the flood just did it for me.’ Ellen smiled a painful smile, because in reality she’d lost a lot of things she loved, including a box of thank-you cards from