The Right Time (37 page)

‘Ooh,' said Liz. ‘Big night out, is it? Or a romantic dinner for two?'

‘It's nothing,' she said. ‘We're just meeting some friends.'

‘You don't have to look so excited about it,' Liz said drolly.

‘I don't even know them all that well,' Evie said. ‘Craig organised it, it was his idea.'

She wished she could talk to her sisters about what was going
on, just blurt it all out. But she couldn't, she had to sort this out with Craig, one way or another. If she told anyone, they'd never be able to look at him the same way again. It was hard enough for Evie.

So although she was late, she didn't hurry home; even on the freeway, she drove under the speed limit. She was glad when she came to a red light, annoyed when too many of them stayed stubbornly green as she approached.

‘Evie,' Craig said when she finally arrived home, ‘do you know what time it is? We're going to be late.'

‘It's not like there's an official starting time,' she said sullenly.

‘Well, can you hurry up now?'

She knew she couldn't get away with dawdling any more, she was only putting off the inevitable. She came down the stairs twenty minutes later. Craig looked at her.

‘You're wearing that again?'

She had on the same dress she'd worn the previous time. ‘I don't own many dressy clothes, and nothing much fits me now anyway.'

‘That doesn't fit you very well either,' he said with a slight curl of the lip.

It was true: the dress that had once not fitted her at all now fit her like a shirt on a fence, as her mum would put it, whatever that meant. Anyway, it was too big, it hung off her.

‘You could have bought something new,' said Craig.

‘Well, it's too late now,' she returned, picking up her purse and heading for the door. ‘Are you coming?'

Craig rabbited on the whole way there, about his day, how he'd had to get up on a ladder and clean the gutters at his mum's because his dad was too lazy to do it, how she'd annoyed him with her incessant yabbering, how the boys had been playing up. It seemed as though they turned into the street all too soon. Craig parked on the opposite side to the house, a few doors up.

‘There's a lot of cars here tonight,' he remarked, turning off the engine and taking the keys out of the ignition.

Evie didn't move, didn't lean down to pick up her purse; she just sat there, absolutely still. This was it. If she got out of the car with him now, she had to go through with it. She couldn't count on someone nice like Steve bailing her out, she wouldn't get
away with that again anyway. But she finally knew for sure that no matter what it did to their marriage, no matter what Craig decided to do as a consequence, she couldn't go through with it. She was not going to get out of this car.

‘Ev?' Craig prompted. ‘Let's go.'

‘I can't do it,' she said.

‘What are you talking about?'

She took a breath. ‘I can't do it, Craig. And I'm not going to, you can't make me.'

He sighed. ‘Look, okay, I know you're nervous, Pud. But let's just go inside, have a drink. I bought a nice bottle of bubbly for you. Let's go in, relax, play it by ear.'

‘No,' she said firmly, raising her voice. ‘I mean it, Craig. I'm not going to do this.'

‘You made an agreement, Evie –'

‘No, I didn't!' she retorted angrily, finally turning her head to look at him. ‘I've been railroaded into this from the start. I never wanted to do it. It was all your idea, and I've tried –'

‘You haven't tried at all,' he sneered.

‘I've done as much as I can do. I've faced it and I can't go through with it,' she cried. ‘Don't you care how I feel?'

‘Oh, that's rich,' he said. ‘What about how I feel? This is like some kind of prick-tease, leading me along for weeks now, only to say no right at the last minute. Well, I don't care, you're coming,' he said, opening his door and getting out, slamming it again.

What was he going to do? Evie watched him walk around the front of the car and come around to her side. She flinched as he yanked open her door.

‘I'm giving you one more chance,' he said. ‘Get out of the car.'

She didn't move, didn't speak; she was trembling.

‘Right,' he said, leaning in over her and releasing her seatbelt. Then he grabbed her by the arm.

‘Craig!' she cried as he dragged her out onto the footpath. ‘Let go of me,' she yelled, reefing her arm free. She turned and started to run up the street. He didn't follow her. Soon she heard the car start up and come after her, pulling in at the kerb where she had slowed to a walk. The window slid down.

‘Get in the car, Evie,' he said grimly.

‘I'm not going with you.'

‘Look, okay, you won,' he said. ‘Now get in the car.'

‘No.'

‘You're being stupid. You're in the middle of nowhere,' he said angrily. ‘How are you going to get home?'

She didn't respond, she just kept walking.

‘Get in the fucking car!' he shouted.

A porch light came on outside the house she was passing. Evie came to a halt and for a split second she thought about making a run for the house, asking for help. But that was overdoing it. She didn't need to drag anyone else into this. And she wasn't actually frightened of Craig; what he'd done just then was completely out of character. She was pretty sure he'd surprised himself as much as her, which was why he hadn't come after her on foot. Besides, she felt strangely empowered. She had made her stand for tonight, and that was enough.

She leaned down to look at Craig through the window. ‘Don't you lay another hand on me.'

‘Don't worry, I have no intention of touching you,' he said.

She opened the door and got in, and he sped off up the street before she could even do up her seatbelt.

They didn't say a word for the whole drive home.

The letter was in the mailbox on Friday afternoon when Ellen arrived home from work. She knew what it was immediately, the school crest gave it away, but she probably would have guessed anyway from the thick, creamy, expensive stationery. She took it inside and slit the envelope open, drawing out the folded sheet. She sat down at the kitchen table. She knew this was going to be a rejection, the school would have phoned otherwise. Maybe she was a glass-half-empty kind of girl, but at least it didn't set her up for disappointment. She unfolded the single sheet and read.

Dear Ms Cosgrove

Thank you for applying for the position of senior teacher, English and History. While your application was impressive . . .

Ellen didn't need to read any more. She flicked the letter aside and pushed back her chair. Kicking off her shoes, she stood up and walked to the back window, staring out into the garden. So that was that. Just as well she hadn't mentioned it to her parents, they would never know she had contemplated becoming a traitor to the cause of public education. She checked her wristwatch, they would be arriving in Lima soon. Ellen and the kids, as well as Liz and Eddie, had gone to see them off at the airport last night. Emma had hoped to get away, but she had been held up on a shoot, and it was too far for Evie to make it on a school night, their parents had insisted. Besides, they were only going to be away for three or four weeks; they'd had longer holidays in the past and no one had made such a fuss. But this was the furthest they'd ever ventured, and it felt more momentous; with the house gone, it was like they were out there, free-falling, without an anchor to bring them home, without a home, in fact. But it didn't seem to bother them.

As Ellen watched her parents walk through the gate, holding hands, so excited to be heading off together, she'd felt a pang of envy at what they had together. Forty years already racked up, and they still had so much more ahead of them. Ellen would never have that, it was gone forever; in truth it had been gone for a long time. She had lost the chance to grow old with the father of her children.

The shrill ring of the phone shattered the silence, along with her rather melancholy train of thought. Which wasn't a bad thing.

‘Hello Ellen?' It was Tim, sounding impatient, even a little annoyed. Great.

‘Hi Tim,' she replied calmly. ‘Is everything all right? Sam got home from training okay?'

‘Yes, yes,' he dismissed. ‘But everything's not all right.'

‘What is it? Is Kate okay?'

‘Both the children are fine,' he said firmly. ‘They're in the kitchen now, having afternoon tea. They can't hear me in here.'

‘Oh?' What was this about?

‘The thing is, Ellen, I have to say I'm very disappointed right now, and I thought it was better to have it out with you. I mean, we are supposed to be amicable, right?'

‘Right,' she said warily.

‘Good then,' he said. ‘Well, I just don't think you're making any sort of an effort to help the kids feel comfortable about Therése.'

‘Pardon?'

‘Sam is making it pretty clear that he doesn't want to have anything much to do with her.'

‘And how is that my fault?'

‘I just think if you were more positive it would make a difference.'

‘Positive?' she said. ‘What are you talking about? Look, Tim, I haven't said anything negative about her, I don't even know her.'

‘Maybe that's the problem, maybe you should meet her.'

‘I'm not interested in meeting her.'

‘See? That's why Sam isn't interested in her either. He was always on your side.'

‘Tim, it's not my job to smooth the way for you and your girlfriend,' she said angrily. She felt like yelling, I can't even have a boyfriend because you got in first! ‘Maybe you should try being a little more positive yourself – you were the one who told the kids she wasn't very attractive.'

‘I didn't say that.'

‘Yes, you did,' she insisted. ‘You said it to me as well.'

‘No I didn't.'

‘You think I'm making this up?'

‘I never said she wasn't attractive – she's very attractive – she's just overweight, that's all.'

Ellen couldn't take any more of this. ‘Listen, Tim, maybe you have to see this for what it is. I don't think Sam's got anything against Therése, but maybe when he has a weekend with you, he just wants to spend time with you.'

Tim had nothing to say to that.

‘Now if you'll excuse me, this is my free weekend and I have better things to do.'

She hung up. She felt like throwing the phone across the room.
What an imbecile! Thank God she wasn't going to grow old with him. Ellen stood there, breathing hard, staring at the phone in her hand.

‘Have you called him yet?' Liz had asked her aside, last night at the airport.

‘No,' she'd hissed back.

‘Why not?'

‘Because I haven't decided.'

‘Think about it . . . all the Tim Tams you can eat.'

Ellen realised her hand was trembling. Why was she hesitating? Why shouldn't she have something for herself? Tim got to make a new life for himself, and now he was expecting her to talk up his girlfriend to the kids, pave the way, make it all nice and easy for him. Screw that. Screw sitting around being here for everyone else. She'd had enough.

She scrolled for Finn's number and pressed Call.

He picked up. ‘Southside Auto Care.'

‘Hi, it's Ellen,' she croaked, before clearing her throat.

‘Oh,' he said. She could tell he wasn't expecting her, he mustn't have looked at his screen. Maybe he was busy. Maybe she should hang up. He wasn't saying anything.

‘I'm sorry I haven't called,' she blurted.

‘You're calling now.'

‘I am.' She swallowed. ‘Oh, I haven't transferred my payment today,' she said, remembering.

‘Is that what you're calling about?'

‘No, I just thought of it.'

‘Would you mind holding a moment, please?' Finn said, suddenly businesslike.

‘Of course.'

Ellen's heart was almost beating out of her chest, it was throbbing in her ears, competing with the hold music.

‘Sorry about that,' Finn said, returning after a minute. ‘You were saying?'

She hadn't been saying anything. She hadn't figured out what to say, she'd just called him. ‘Um, you said I should call, if I wanted to. So I'm calling.'

‘Okay.'

Ellen sighed. ‘Is this a bad time, Finn?'

‘It's just that I'm at work, I can't really talk, you know?'

Ellen wondered what that meant. If it was a statement of fact, or a hint.

‘Okay, well, you could always come over later, if you want – you don't have to, or anything,' she added quickly. ‘You know, no obligation. But, well, the kids are with Tim tonight, and I was just going to order pizza, maybe hire a DVD, so if you're not doing anything . . . if you're free . . . you could come over. If you want.'

There was a moment's silence before he answered. ‘Is that what you want, Ellen?'

God, now what did that mean? Was he asking her, over the phone, if she wanted to have a relationship? How was she supposed to answer that?

‘I don't know what you're asking exactly, Finn,' she said finally. ‘All this tiptoeing around is getting exhausting, frankly.'

‘You started it,' he said.

She smiled then, and she could imagine him smiling too. She really wanted to see that smile.

‘I'd really like you to come over tonight.'

‘Then that's what I'll do,' he said. ‘I probably can't get away for another hour or so. See you around six?'

‘Perfect.'

‘Can I bring anything?'

‘Just Tim Tams.' Shit, she said that out loud.

‘What was that?' he asked.