Fighting against fate

In life we make plans, but never expect the unexpected

This story was originally written to a prompt in the #SeptemberStoryStreak challenge on Story Republic, Keep reading after for more details of our forthcoming book What Is Love? a global collection of real life stories exploring love, including my story, ‘Ants’.

Lucifer's angels tumble out of heaven, their limbs entwined. Detail of an etching by R. Pranker, 176-. Original public domain image from Wellcome Collection

1988: I've missed the tram that would definitely get me to the bus station in time. I have a split second to decide what to do. The later tram might get me there, but probably not. I have to be in Sydney tomorrow, not only to see my boyfriend, but also because we're going to a dinner party where I'll be introduced to his friends. His older, sophisticated friends. I don't want to be the bimbo flake who couldn't get her act together to catch a bus. I am desperate to get their seal of approval, or at least avoid disapproval.

I refuse to accept my fate, and call a taxi. Before I spend money I can't spare, I ask the dispatcher if he's sure the taxi can get me to the bus station on time.

"Shouldn't be a problem," the dispatcher says. "Car is on its way."

But the taxi doesn't turn up.

I'm forced to run for the later tram, praying and cursing as I swap my small suitcase from hand to hand. On the tram I watch the minutes tick by, in an agony of suspense, as we stop-start through the Friday after work traffic. When we get to the bus station, I see that there are still a few intercity coaches in the bays outside. I sprint, hope surging, and suitcase slipping from under my straining arm.

None of them is ‘my’ bus. In the ticket office I burst into mildly hysterical tears. I make a rash offer to buy a ticket with another coach company, but the staff remind me that the company I was booked on has the latest departure of the day to Sydney. I should have remembered, its why I chose them in the first place.

Now I will miss the dinner party, my boyfriend will be disappointed, and maybe annoyed at having to explain my absence, his friends will take offence, my boyfriend will break up with me, and what if he is the love of my life, and my life will be ruined? This all seems more than plausible, it seems imminent and assured, in my adrenaline soaked exhaustion, after a brutal work week.

"Look," says one of the ticketing clerks, with a fatherly air. "The best I can offer you is to put you on the Brisbane bus, then when they stop in Forbes, in New South Wales, you get off and wait an hour or so and then the Adelaide to Sydney bus will pick you up. It's a bit of a detour, but you'll be in Sydney by lunchtime. You can have a bit of a sleep and still get to your party. But you have to make up your mind now, yes or no, because the Brisbane bus is leaving and I won't hold it up."

I dither for a moment. The 12 hour overnight bus trip is now a 16 hour overnight bus trip. I won't be in much shape to enjoy the party when I get there. I'm tempted to give up, and go home and sleep all weekend. It sounds a lot more appealing right now... but I rsvp'd yes. I'm expected, and I don't want to disappoint. Besides, the bus company and ticket staff have gone to some trouble to find this solution, in response to my panicked urgency. It feels ungrateful to say no. But I hesitate for another second.

Of course I say yes. It feels fateful.

"Right then, Cinderella," says the ticket clerk. "Let's get you to your ball." He lifts my suitcase with a grin. "You'll travel in style, your bus is brand new, drove here from the factory today."

But at 5am something mechanical or electrical malfunctions, the driver's airbag activates and the steering column collapses. The bus thunders out of control back and forth across the highway, toppling onto its side and grinding through the gravel and before finally coming to a stop.

As I am hurled through the darkness amid flying shards of glass, I realise I may be about to die. I'm being pummelled by bits of luggage, and by other passengers. If anything hard enough hits me, that will be it.

I'm not even supposed to be on this bus. If it was the Sydney bus that crashed, that might make a sort of sense, that would be why I missed the early tram, why the taxi didn't come. It would be fate trying to keep me safe. But how can this be the result of all my efforts?

How can this be my fate?

Thank you for reading, your time and attention are a gift!

Today instead of ‘Over to You’ I’m excited to unveil our story collection What Is Love? which will be available in mid-October. Click on the photo below to learn more and to register for no-obligation early access, plus a few sneak peeks! I can’t wait to share this joyful book with you and with the people you love.