of the rain. I grabbed my beach bag, opened the door and ran as fast as my legs could move. I held one arm in the air and shouted, ‘Taxi, Taxi’. The cab driver held the door open and I dived in. I burst into tears and absolutely sobbed. When I finally managed to speak, I said, ‘How much will it be to drive me to Brisbane, driver?’ The cabbie turned around and tried desperately to calm me down and I began to cry again. Still sobbing, I told him what had happened. We looked over to where the car had been parked just in time to see them drive away. The cabbie said, ‘I think you’ve done the right thing, sweetheart, I just hope we don’t hear on the news tomorrow that your girlfriend’s body has been found in some deserted area’. I arrived home at five past midnight and I had to go into Edith and ask her to lend me five pounds (my entire week’s wage) to pay the driver his fare. Edith went off her brain telling me that she wasn’t going to give me a penny for the fare and reprimanded me for not being home hours earlier. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how much she harped on about how thoughtless and inconsiderate I was. I yelled, ‘Would you prefer that I should’ve spent the night on the beach with Robin and those blokes and possibly been raped and murdered?’ There was no immediate reply just a look of disgusted disbelief. I then added, ‘By the time you muck around, the cost of the fare will be up to six quid’ That struck a nerve, she scurried off to get her purse and handing over the fiver she said, ‘You’re going to have to pay me back at the end of the week’. Terrific, her only daughter escapes untouched and unharmed from a fate worse than death and all she can think of is that I have to pay her, her precious bloody fiver by the end of the week. To add insult to injury she added, ‘And lower your voice or you’ll wake your father’.
Jesus. I couldn’t win even if I was the only competitor. Lunchtime the following day, Robin came in to see me at work. She had the audacity and gall to try and borrow some money from me. She was still wearing her swimmers and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been combed. I was so angry I just wanted to punch her into the ground. In my most disgusted and disgruntled tone, I spat,
‘Robin, get out of here before I do something I’ll enjoy’.
You would think that I would have learnt my lesson with Robin and steered clear of her the moment I clasped eyes on her again wouldn’t you? Not me. Approximately six months later, I went to the Railway Institute dance on my own and Robin was there by herself as well. We sat and talked and she apologised for what she had done and I accepted her apology. I had a few dances and talked to a number of people whom I knew and at the end of the night I was offered a lift home, which I declined. I started to walk to the gates of the Edward Street entrance of the Railway Institute on my way to catch my tram in Adelaide Street when Robin ran up behind me grabbing my arm and said, ‘Come on, we’ll give you a lift home’.
I declined but she persisted. ‘I know these fellows, they’re okay. They’re giving me a lift and they said they’ll drive you home too’.
I asked very suspiciously, ‘Where do they live?’
Robin ‘Not far from me’.
Amelia ‘But that’s nowhere near where I live it’s too far out of the way’.
Robin ‘No, I’ve already told them where you live and they said it’s okay. It’s not too far to go’.
Again, I suspiciously asked, if she was sure they were reliable as I didn’t want to have to catch another cab again. I only had two-bob on me and the old girl would kill me if I had to ask her to lend me money again.
She promised me faithfully that they were genuinely nice boys and totally trustworthy. Like a fool, to save a 1/3 (twelve cents) tram fare I got into the front seat alongside of the driver. Robin got in the back seat and as we started to drive out the gates, both the front and back passenger doors flew open and two other fellows jumped in. I turned to Robin
‘Thanks a million, you bloody stupid bitch, when I get my hands on you I’m going to kill you’.
The driver ‘Calm down, they’re friends of mine and I’m going to give them a lift home too’.
Amelia, ‘Well as long as you don’t think you’re going to get anything, because you’ve got another thought coming’.
The driver ‘I’ll take you straight home, I promise’.
I relaxed a bit when he asked for directions. I told him to follow the tramline right to the terminus. (A few months previously we had moved into Judge Jeffery’s home near the tram terminus and my old school, whilst we waited for our own home to be built.)
As we approached the turn, I told him that he could turn left at the next street, that’d take us to the tram terminus’.
When he didn’t turn into the street I said, ‘You’ve got one more chance to turn left at the next street and continue following the tramline’.
He jammed his foot on the accelerator and started the ascent to Mt Coot-tha. I said, ‘You are only wasting your time, because you’ll get bugger all out of me. I’ll walk before I’d give in to any of you. I can fight and I bite.’
He took no notice of me and kept speeding up the mountain. By the time we got to the kiosk all of the others were singing the latest songs. As we careered down a particularly curvy section of the road towards the television channels, I recall the words of the song were, I’m Falling and a split second later the driver miscalculated a hairpin bend and we really were falling. Actually, not only were we falling, we were soaring sixty feet over and down the side of the mountain.
I felt my head hit something and the fellow sitting on the passenger side held me close to him to prevent me from flying out the open window alongside of him. I remember seeing a huge trunk of a light grey coloured tree. Then I was sitting on the ground holding my head and an ambulance officer said, ‘Lie down, sweetheart, you’ve got head injuries’.
I put my hand to my face and head and I couldn’t feel anything wrong and I said, ‘No I’m alright. What do you want me to do, is everyone else okay?’
Another ambulance officer rushed over as I started to get to my feet, he placed his arms around my shoulders and waist and gently lowered me back onto the ground in a sitting position. As he did this he said, ‘Sit down, darlin’ we’re getting you a stretcher now’.
I insisted that I was fine, but that my arm was just a bit tender. He persisted and insisted that I stay sitting down. When I again told him that I was okay he said, ‘You’ve been out like a light for at least twenty minutes. Now just take it easy and just sit there for a while, okay?’ He added, ‘We’ll tend to your face in a minute’.
The driver of the car started to moan and yelled, ‘Forget that bitch, what about me?’
The ambulance man said to me ‘He’s a real charmer, what garbage bin did you drag him from?’ I looked around and it looked like a war zone. Robin was strapped into a stretcher and was carried up the hill to a waiting ambulance. The others were either lying or sitting holding different parts of their bodies in an effort to stop the pain. I was placed on a stretcher and as they carried me up the side of the mountain. I realised that one of the stretcher-bearers was Brian Cahill, the Channel Seven newsreader. He had apparently arrived at the scene of the accident just as we went over the mountain and he had telephoned for the ambulance. Luck had been on my side, if Mr Cahill hadn’t witnessed the accident God only knows what the outcome would have been. As far as I’m concerned, he saved my life.
The fellow who had been sitting alongside of me said ‘God your face is a mess’
