A strange day

It's been a weird day. You know when you have those weird days?
It's been a thwarted hot date for me, (I do love that word 'thwarted'. It's always reminded me of the thwarts that hold boats together, but also the situation of coitus interruptus.) Today was also a potential argument over money and love with my daughter, saved by our last minute phone call, and finally a woman turned up at the service station yesterday, under duress, looking for baby food. 'We are on the road,' she said, as her partner filled the car with fuel.

She came back again today and hung around, in a shop where baby food, sliced bread and veges are stupidly over-priced. She stayed at the counter, talking to me. She was dithery, moving over bank accounts on her phone to the one she kept kept forgetting her PIN for. 'He's gonna be wondering why I'm spending so much time in this shop,' she said, looking outside. 'He did this yesterday. I don't know him well. He asked if I'd like to come down south as a friend. But he's been getting really strange. I don't know what to do.'
'Do you feel safe?' I asked her.
'No.' she said. 'No. I don't know what to do.'
'Where are you camping tonight?'
'I'm not sure. Maybe Busselton?'

I've been in this situation. I remember forgetting my PIN because I've been so physically and emotionally stressed. I remember asking roadhouse staff for help. At the time they all blank-eyed me.

I gave her my card. I said, 'I'm working late. Here is a contact in the next town. You will go out of range in about fifteen minutes. Please ring and let me know how you travel. X Sarah.'