Chapter 36
36
Ruth
I managed to get through the next week relatively unscathed, partly because Mia worked on Wednesday (a pupil-free day at the high school), which meant I only had one whole shift with Lorna. I was well and truly ready to see the back of her. A genuine Cutlers Bay local, Lorna wasn’t exactly lazy, but she loved a chat and I had to constantly remind her of her duties. I was sure those social butterfly tendencies were why she wasn’t keen on cooking—there was no-one to talk to in the kitchen. I decided I’d see if I could manage with just the short-shift casual on Thursday and Friday. Lorna had appeared as relieved as me when I’d told her I wouldn’t need her for the remainder of the week.
When Erin had come in on Thursday morning for her orientation, she’d proved to be a quick learner, which lifted my spirits. Fingers crossed there’d be no ‘disruption’ at home when she began her shifts proper. If I could only convince Liz and Gayle, who did the short shifts week-about, to increase their shift by half an hour, I’d cope with Thursdays and Fridays on my own; not ideal, though, and more work for me. Then on Saturday—when Hamish had surprised me by turning up at our busiest time to clear tables—Mia offered to work for an hour each day after school to help clean up and prep for the next day. It was a tempting offer.
‘Does your mum know you were going to suggest this to me? And what about your job stacking shelves at the supermarket?’
‘They’ve cut back my hours and it is dead boring. Not to mention the pimply-faced youth I work with lets me do everything. I’d rather work here.’
‘Pimply-faced youth ? And you’re what, seventeen?’
‘He’s only fifteen and he has acne, like really gross acne. And he picks—’
‘Stop right there,’ I said.
She laughed. ‘Mum said I could ask you but if I slacked off on my homework, that was it.’
‘All right, we’ll give it a try. Four until five?’
‘Thanks, Ruth. And school holidays? I can work whenever.’
‘We’ll see. You need some time to rest and relax. How was your mum’s first week at the new job?’
Mia frowned and pulled at her bottom lip. ‘I don’t think she likes it much. She starts at seven so me and Cody get ourselves off to school, which is fine, because, like she says, we are more than capable. But she’s tired and grumpy in the evenings, and in bed by nine.’
‘She’ll probably get used to it. It’s a lot more hours than she was working here. On her feet the whole time.’
Mia shrugged. ‘I heard her tell Dad that a couple of the women she works with are real bitches.’
‘That’s a shame. But you be careful who you go repeating that to, Mia. You know what small towns are like, everybody knows everybody else.’
‘Or they’re related.’
‘That too. Now, I need to get a move on. I’m off to Adelaide for a family get-together. And I’ll see you on Tuesday at four. I’ve told you the code for the service lane door?’
‘Yep. You have a good time tonight.’ She grabbed her polar fleece out of the cupboard. The mornings were getting chilly.
‘Mia, before you go,’ I said, ‘is your dad around permanently now?’
Her face took on a mutinous expression. ‘One would assume so,’ she said. ‘But of course me and Cody will be the last ones to know, officially.’
‘Is he still living with you?’ I was prying but felt justified, because I did care about Allie and Mia. My best employee had resigned and if you joined the dots, the downward spiral had begun at the return of the erstwhile husband.
‘In a caravan, out the back. Someone Mrs Giles knows loaned the caravan. It’s a piece of junk, but now that he’s out of the house, Mum’s a lot calmer. See ya.’
The plan was to be on the road by four, in time to meet everyone at the chosen venue sometime between six and seven. I’d booked myself into a motel overnight because Stacey was staying with Elliot and I didn’t fancy sleeping on Elliot’s over-sprung couch. It had been three or more years since I’d seen my niece and I was excited about the catch-up.
An hour later, congratulating myself for being right on schedule, I almost didn’t believe it when I put the key in the car’s ignition, turned it and nothing happened. I tried again, but all the engine did was make a clunking, grinding, not very healthy sound. I would have a screamed if I’d had the energy. My phone rang from the depths of the handbag on the passenger seat.
‘All ready to go?’ Hamish said when I answered.
‘Except that now my car won’t start,’ I said, enunciating each word carefully. ‘I’m looking for my roadside assistance card … I know it’s in here somewhere.’
‘I can be there in ten minutes.’
‘It’s okay, Hamish, this is why I pay for roadside assistance. Besides, aren’t you playing golf?’
‘I am, but I’m nearly done and it’s not as if I’m competing in the Australian Open, and I wanted to catch you before you left.’
Distracted, I upturned my wallet and shook out all the cards onto the passenger seat. Half of them I didn’t even recognise. Another job to add to the list. ‘Finish your game, Hamish. You don’t need to rescue me every time. I’ll ring the RAA.’ I spied the card and pounced on it.
‘Fair enough,’ he said and the phone went dead.
I paused and stared down at it. No mistaking the cool tone nor the abruptness with which he’d ended the call. ‘Oh, shit,’ I said after I’d replayed my side of the conversation. He’d probably thought I didn’t appreciate everything he’d done for me. I rang him back. He didn’t answer and I didn’t have time to leave a message. I rang roadside assistance and waited forty minutes for Gordon, the local mechanic, to come and tell me I had a flat battery and that maddeningly, I hadn’t closed one of the back doors properly and that would have been enough to do the damage.
Of course he didn’t have a replacement battery with him but he jump-started the car and I was on my way, albeit an hour late. ‘You should be right,’ he said. ‘The battery doesn’t look that old but if it is on the blink, you’ll need to bring the car in and I’ll replace it.’
As much as I was tempted otherwise, I kept to the speed limit because I couldn’t afford the fine if I was caught. But I broke the law regardless when I picked up my phone to glance at it at regular intervals. But there was nothing from Hamish.
By the time I’d reached Gepps Cross I’d convinced myself that perhaps it was better this way. Let things cool off a bit between us. It was kind of him to offer to cut his golf game short but I was used to managing on my own and I didn’t need him to gallop to my rescue every time. At least, I didn’t think it was what I needed, or wanted, as gratifying as it was when he had. Both of our futures were uncertain and having him there, ready and willing to bail me out, could become addictive.
When we’d walked to Clifftop Drive the week before, the tide had been out and we’d clambered down the crumbling cliff and onto the beach. I’d stumbled and he’d taken my hand to steady me and hadn’t let go as we’d walked on the beach. I hadn’t minded at all; his fingers had been warm and strong, the skin tough and callused and it’d felt right to have them intertwined with mine. But where to from there? Did I need a man in my life? Did I even want a man in my life? Pertinent questions which I did not have answers for, except to say that I hadn’t found Hamish’s company at all onerous—quite the opposite. I liked him as a friend but I couldn’t pretend, not even to myself, that I hadn’t noticed him as a man, and that’s when I floundered.
When it came to relationships, I had very little experience to fall back on and I suspected that Hamish didn’t either. And what was so special about a relationship that would make it worth all the bother? I did a mental flick through the people I knew in long-term relationships, married or otherwise, from Audrey and Reg Franco to Allie and her estranged husband; my brothers and their attempts at marriage and togetherness; the handful of friends I’d kept in vague touch with over the years. None jumped out as matches made in heaven, although Robert and Lana had appeared content, in a reserved, unambiguous sort of a way. One Christmas, unobserved, I’d watched Robert. He couldn’t take his eyes off his wife. They’d not long been married and, in that moment, I’d witnessed just how deeply he cared for her. I’d felt like an intruder.
But in the end, how much did any of it matter? Robert was dead and Lana was on her own again. I’d lived my adult life on my own and been content enough. The car behind me tooted and with a start I saw the lights had turned green and I was holding up the traffic.
By the time I arrived at the inner-city hotel, Elliot and Stacey were well into their main courses. Parking had been a nightmare and I’d ended up having to walk several blocks.
Stacey beamed when she spotted me. In her early forties now, she reminded me so much of her mother, or how I remembered her. We hugged.
‘So good to see you, Ruth. You look tired. Dad said you had car trouble. You’re not still driving that beat-up old station wagon?’
‘It’s been a long day and who can afford a new car?’
‘I’ve ordered you the garlic prawns,’ Elliot said. ‘I thought they’d be the quickest option. Just let them know you’re here.’ He was animated and rosy-cheeked and recklessly waving about a half-full glass of red wine.
‘Just the three of us? What happened to Lana? And Corrine? I thought they were coming?’
‘Aunty Corrine rang earlier saying she’d woken up with the sniffles. But it’s okay, because I spent Tuesday afternoon with her and caught up on what Oliver and Charlotte have been up to. And I had lunch with Lana on Thursday,’ Stacey said. ‘She was good, considering it’s barely six weeks since Uncle Robert died.’
Elliot didn’t comment, swirling the wine in the glass, his face an expressionless mask. Had he chosen not to accompany his daughter on these visits or had he not been invited?
Stacey didn’t want another drink and Elliot still had a third of the bottle to go, so I went and sorted out my food and detoured to the bar for a drink. While I waited to be served, I debated whether or not to have a glass of wine. I did feel tired and disgruntled. The tiredness was a given, but who knew where the other came from?
Don’t kid yourself, Ruth, of course you know.
I checked my phone again. No missed calls or messages from Hamish. There was the source of my disgruntlement and the reason why I didn’t do relationships. Life already threw up more than enough day-to-day challenges and uncertainties—why go and pile on another layer?
* * *
On the drive to the airport on Sunday morning, Stacey swivelled in her seat and said, ‘How’s Dad really doing, Ruth? He says he’s fine, all hale and hearty, but I dunno …’
Gritty-eyed and sleep deprived after your typical motel stay, it took me a moment to compose a response. ‘Like you said last night, it’s barely six weeks since Robert died and Elliot misses him.’
‘They were close, weren’t they? Mum said she sometimes felt like a third wheel when the three of them were together. Dad used to share more with his brother than he did with her. I guess it made her feel a bit redundant as a wife.’
‘She told you that?’ I said, with a quick sideways glance her way. Not that I was surprised.
‘Don’t get me wrong, Mum really liked Uncle Robert and he was always terrific to her and me, even after Mum and Dad split up.’
I yawned and Stacey grinned.
‘You looked wrecked, like you drank most of the bottle of red, not Dad. Thanks for coming, Ruth. It was excellent to hear about life in Cutlers Bay. Unchanged by the sounds of things. Fingers crossed the business and the building sell quickly and you can get on with your life.’
‘Yeah, although what that life might look like is yet to be determined.’
‘I can’t wait to retire!’ Stacey said.
She insisted I drop her off at the terminal. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in and have a coffee with you?’
‘Thanks, but I’m going to phone home again. Chris sounded a bit down earlier. While he made it through the surgery without any problems and he is losing weight, he’s not finding any of it easy. And two teenagers can be trying at the best of times.’
In the pick-up and drop-off zone, I humped Stacey’s suitcase out of the back of the wagon and onto the footpath. We hugged each other. I was caught unawares by the strength of the connection I felt between us and how much I didn’t want her to go.
‘When you sell the cafe, come up for a holiday,’ she said. ‘There’s heaps of things to do and some fabulous resort-style accommodation. If you come in the off season you can get packages quite cheap.’
‘Now there’s an idea … a week or even a fortnight of pampering in a five-star resort. Who knows what lies down the track? Give my love to Chris and the kids.’
‘Will do, and, Ruth, please ring me any time, especially if you’re worried about Dad. I’m a long way away, but sometimes it helps to talk and he is my dad and I love him.’
‘Did he say anything about flying up to you for a holiday?’
She shook her head. That’s when I noticed the officious-looking security guard begin to move in our direction, pointing at the nearby sign and then at the timepiece on his wrist. The traffic was banking up and he’d had his eye on us for a few minutes.
‘I’ll go,’ I said. ‘We’ll talk soon.’
Stacey was halfway across the concourse, dragging her suitcase behind her, before there was a big enough gap for me to merge into the traffic.
Instead of turning north towards home, I headed east and back to Elliot’s place. I’d have lunch with him before the drive home and we could talk. There was a conversation we needed to have: What were his expectations of me? In the longer term, having his younger sister butting into his life uninvited might be the last thing he wanted or needed. A similar conversation with Hamish might be advisable if I wanted to avoid any future misunderstandings. And if he was still talking to me at all.
Elliot’s garage door was up and the garage was empty. I didn’t drive in. He hadn’t said anything about going anywhere when I’d picked up Stacey earlier, not that he had to tell me everything. I chastised myself for not calling ahead. I put the car in park and pulled on the handbrake to search for the phone. This morning at the motel the car hadn’t started and the young man with a Ned Kelly beard and a pierced eyebrow from the room next door kindly jump-started it for me. Hence I wasn’t game to turn off the ignition until I was safely home. I’d accepted I was up for the cost of a new battery.
My call to Elliot went unanswered. I shrugged, left a message and did a U-turn to point the car in the direction of home. I’d have just enough petrol to get me there.