Driver's Log: Four Hundred Kilometres of Other People's Evenings

18:00. Started the shift at the office in the inner west. Fuel full, phone charged, water bottles in the back seat, a box of tissues and a spare phone charger in the glovebox. The booker hands me the first run sheet and says, "Big night." She says that every Saturday.

18:40. Picked up Jade from her flat. She gets in, kicks off her heels, and does her eyeliner in the passenger mirror at the lights on Parramatta Road without smudging it once. I have seen surgeons with less steady hands. We talk about her uni assignment. She's writing about urban planning, and she has opinions about the Western Sydney rail line that she shares at length.

The first drop

19:15. Hotel in the city. I park where I can see the entrance. She texts the booker when she's in and settled, and I text back a thumbs up. Then I wait. People think this job is driving. It's mostly waiting, and watching doors, and being the phone call that's always answered.

20:30. Jade out on time. She's smiling. She says he was a gentleman and he tipped for the parking. She puts her heels back in the bag and asks if we can get dumplings. We can.

The middle of the night

22:00. Took Carla out to the northern beaches. Long drive in the dark with the windows down and the smell of salt coming off the water. She's quiet tonight. I don't push. Some nights people want to talk and some nights they want the radio. I put the radio on.

23:50. Carla texts early. Not an emergency, just not comfortable. I'm at the door in two minutes. She gets in and says, "Thanks for being right there." I say that's the whole job. The booker follows it up with the office properly in the morning. We don't argue with anyone's instincts.

The end of the line

02:30. Last drop-off. Everyone home, lights on in every window before I pulled away. That's my rule: I don't leave until I see the light go on.

03:15. Back at the office. Four hundred and twelve kilometres. Two coffees, one bag of dumplings, a lot of good radio.

I don't see much of what happens behind those doors and I don't need to. My part of the night is simpler: be on time, be reliable, be the steady car in the dark that brings them home. I drove home with the sunrise just starting to think about it, and I felt good about the work.