I never thought I’d go to jail. I honestly thought I’d be dead by now and my baby brother would be reading Slipknot lyrics over my coffin.
As our box-bus rumbles up a pretty country road through lines of pine trees, I sponge up some eyefuls of Canterbury plains out my little porthole window. f**k, nature’s gorgeous. If I get outta Paparua, I’m gonna be some High Country sheep farmer or something. Get sweaty, fix fences. Learn how to bring engines back to life. A dude with real s**t to complain about.
The bus is about 50 percent civilians and everyone else is cliqued up. It’s a ninety-minute bus trip … plenty of time to ask people on the bus if they know where Mona’s at. This little Tongan from Invercargill tells me Mona hasn’t been sighted at Calendar Girls in ages.
‘Pregnant, I heard,’
