No-one could say she’d not tried to tame her struggle early. After that devastating evening when she’d lost $1,000 in an hour, and continued playing her favourite machine into the night, she knew something was wrong.
Those nights after her husband’s death had been so excruciatingly lonely. Their much-loved pub was around the corner from their townhouse. Sunday roasts, meeting friends for a drink or bistro meal had been such a part of their contented existence for years.
One evening after work she took a walk, found the pub lights and warm aromas welcoming. Yet she felt conspicuous. Alone. Her embarrassment and need for connection caused her to duck awkwardly into an adjoining pokies room.
Crowded, easy to merge. Women were sitting at machines, coffee or wine in hand. Men too, walked around, not bothering anyone, apart from a friendly greeting or brief exchange. She’d learned the drill quickly.
After a lengthy confiding talk, her closest friend suggested: ‘Why not go on a cruise? Heaps of women travel that way on their own… it can be relaxing and fun without any discomfort.’
This same friend had booked her on a cruise exploring the Baltic. ‘No poker machines on this ship!’ She’d added: ‘Scandinavians don’t meddle much with pokies… not even sure they have them… Copenhagen, Stockholm and Oslo have lots to offer. Helsinki is worth it too. They speak English well and like a chat.’
The cruise was all she’d hoped for and more. Surreal peace of surrounding water, superb food around the clock, friendly people milling about, yet also doing their thing. Company when she wanted it, tranquil solace when not.
She’d rocked along with other Boomers to a Beatles night, forged new friendships.
***********
On her return she passed their corner pub. The lights beckoned.
Burnside Writers Group 