The Right Time (39 page)

‘I had so many Tim Tams I should be sick of them . . . but all I can think about is when I can have some more,' Ellen said wistfully. ‘And now I have to wait two whole weeks.'

‘Why?'

‘The kids are with me next weekend.'

‘You know you're not going to be able to keep up the subterfuge forever.'

‘I don't know – how many years have you kept it up with Andrew?'

‘Too many, believe me,' Liz said.

She had been avoiding Andrew since the day they'd talked at the hospital. The whole thing had left her feeling overwhelmed and confused, and she needed some space to work it out. Just because they weren't married didn't mean she didn't have an obligation to Andrew. What kind of person would she be if she left him when he needed her most? She loved Andrew, he had been a part of her life for a very long time. Liz didn't want to
think she was the kind of person who would bail on someone she loved. But at the same time, she realised she was beginning to feel trapped.

‘Anyway, I don't know if we have that sort of relationship,' Ellen was saying.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, we're just having fun, a lot of fun,' she added, her voice dropping. ‘Once we start bringing the kids into it, well, it complicates things.'

‘I guess, but it complicates things to keep it hidden as well.'

‘Hm,' Ellen was thoughtful. ‘Anyway, even if I was ready to introduce Finn to the kids, it doesn't solve my access problems. We wouldn't be going off to the bedroom for hot sex while they were in the house.'

‘I take your point,' said Liz. ‘Then you're just going to have to tell Tim that he has to start having Kate and Sam more often. Maybe they could go over one night a week for dinner as well.'

‘You think?'

‘Absolutely, why shouldn't he? A lot of divorced people share the parenting fifty-fifty these days.'

‘Oh, I couldn't do that, I'd miss the kids too much.'

‘But surely you could cope with one less night, considering the pay-off?'

‘I think I could manage that,' Ellen grinned.

‘And in the meantime, why don't I have the kids one night for a sleepover?' Liz suggested. ‘I haven't done that in ages.'

‘That's because they're sixteen and eighteen now,' Ellen reminded her.

‘What? Are you saying they wouldn't want to come?' said Liz, crestfallen. ‘I thought I was the cool aunty!'

‘I'm sure you still are,' Ellen assured her. ‘But they've grown up. They're past sleepovers at their aunty's, whether she's cool or not.'

‘Well, that's it,' she resolved. ‘I'm going to find something to lure them here.'

‘You don't have to do that for me.'

‘I'm not, I'm doing it for me,' she insisted. ‘I'm crushed. I have to restore my image.'

Evie had slept in Tayla's bed that horrendous Saturday night, the only time she'd ever slept apart from Craig the whole of their married life, except for when she'd been in the hospital having babies. But she didn't sleep well, and she woke with the dawn the next morning. She decided to go straight over to her parents' place, before Craig woke up. She really didn't want to have to deal with him, with any of it. He'd stayed up drinking after they got home, watching television. Evie had heard him stumble up the stairs quite late, and had held her breath for a moment, but he had headed straight for their bedroom. The only thing she heard after that was snoring.

She left a note so that he wouldn't phone her to find out what was going on for the day. It was just the bare details – that she would be at her mother's with Tayla, and that he shouldn't forget to pick up the boys.

Evie threw herself into the cleaning when she got to her parents' house. She was so glad to have something to do, she desperately needed the distraction. She didn't even care that Tayla complained most of the day, she switched off and let her grandparents deal with her. But as the afternoon wore on, she started to worry about the boys, and eventually they got their things together and left. It was only when Evie drove away that she remembered it would be the last time she'd see the house. Well, she was just going to have to go back over another day during the week, it was all too much to deal with at the moment.

She and Craig barely spoke that night. Evie didn't want to, and Craig didn't seem inclined to make any kind of approach either. He slumped off to the study after he'd said goodnight to the kids, she didn't care what he did as long as he stayed away from her.

But Evie really needed to talk to someone, and there was only one someone she could talk to. She sent a text to Steve to see if he wanted to meet for a walk the next morning. She felt a bit sad and lost when he didn't reply. It wasn't until the next morning that she finally received a text from him. He was away on business, all week. He promise he'd be in touch when he got back.

The week had dragged, and Evie felt just about ready to burst at the seams by the time he met her at their usual place the following week.

‘Hey,' he said, smiling as he approached her. ‘How are you?'

‘Fine . . . no, I'm not fine, what am I saying? Why do I always say that? I really have to work on that.'

Steve looked at her, a bit bemused.

‘Let's walk,' she said, scooping her arm through his and leading him along the track.

She launched into an account of that Saturday night but when she got to the part about Craig dragging her out of the car, Steve came to a sudden stop.

‘Hold up a sec, Evie,' he protested. ‘You're walking too fast and you're talking too fast.'

‘Oh, sorry.'

He glanced around. ‘Let's go sit over there, I want to listen to this properly.'

He led her across to a park bench looking out at the river, and they sat down. He turned to face her. ‘So he dragged you out of the car?' he prompted her, frowning.

‘Well, he dragged my arm. I was on my feet.'

‘Are you okay?'

‘Yeah, it was over in a few seconds. When I pulled my arm away, that was it, he didn't lay a finger on me after that. I think he was a bit shocked by what he'd done. He's never done anything like that before. I mean, he'll get the shits and slam a door, but that's about it.'

‘You want to be careful though, Evie,' Steve said. ‘You don't want him to start thinking it's okay to treat you like that.'

‘I don't think that's going to happen,' she assured him. ‘Anyway, I ran off up the street –'

‘You did?' he interrupted. ‘Where did you think you were going to run to? It's outer suburbia, you weren't likely to find a cab.'

‘I know,' she sighed. ‘I didn't really think it through, I was just getting away from him right then. He came after me in the car, yelling at me to get in.'

‘You weren't afraid?'

Evie shook her head. ‘Even though he was obviously really pissed off, I knew he wouldn't hurt me. And in a funny way, I felt like I was the one with the power.'

‘How so?'

‘Well, Craig seemed like a bully in the playground, who can't do much more than give someone a shove or else he'll get into trouble himself.' She paused. ‘I'd won, he knew it as well as I did. I'd stood up to him and there was nothing he could do about it.'

‘You are amazing, Evie,' Steve said. His arm was resting on the back of the bench, and he gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

‘I don't know about that. I've still got to figure out what to do now,' she said. ‘But it is such a relief that part's over. I've been living with this hanging over my head for months now. I feel free.'

‘I'm glad,' he said, his hand lingering on her shoulder. ‘So are you going to ask him to leave?'

Evie turned her head abruptly to look at him. ‘That might be taking it a bit far.'

‘Why?' Steve persisted. ‘Do you honestly think you're going to be able to carry on as usual after this?'

‘Well, you have,' she reminded him. ‘Look how long you've stuck it out with Cheryl.'

‘Yeah, and look where it's got me,' he said. ‘Nothing's changed, Evie. I've been kidding myself, hanging in there, waiting for her to get it out of her system, like I told you. But I don't think she's ever going to. I think it's part of her lifestyle now.'

‘I'm sorry, Steve,' said Evie, shifting to face him and putting a hand over his. ‘I've been so caught up with my own problems, I haven't given you any chance to talk.'

He shook his head, taking hold of her hand. ‘I don't mind, just being with you is the highlight of my week.' His other hand was still resting on her shoulder, and he moved to stroke her cheek.

Evie jerked back. ‘What are you doing, Steve?'

He was gazing into her eyes. ‘Evie, I've never met anyone like you, you're such a sweet person –'

‘Stop it.' She took her hand out of his. ‘Steve, you love Cheryl.'

‘I don't know, I don't know whether I do any more.'

‘Well, I do,' said Evie. ‘Look at what you've put up with all
these years. You haven't hung in there for that long just to give up on her now.'

‘That's the problem,' he said. ‘It's like waiting and waiting for the share price to go up on stocks you've been holding on to for ages. But sometimes you just have to cut your losses and move on. Maybe it's time for me to make a new life, a new start.'

He went to reach for her again, but she held her hand up. ‘Well, it's not going to happen with me, Steve,' Evie said emphatically. ‘I like you, I like you a lot, in fact, but I think of you as a friend, a very good friend, but just a friend.'

He feigned an arrow hitting his heart, but he was smiling at the same time.

‘Oh, come on,' she chided. ‘You're just trying to find an easy way out. If you really don't think you want to be with Cheryl any more, then do something about that. You don't fix things by just moving on to someone else. And I've got young children to consider, Steve. I've got to clean up the mess in my own backyard first.'

Liz had just managed to park her car when her phone rang, so she was able answer it, although when she saw it was Andrew, she nearly didn't.

‘Hey hun,' he said, trying to sound casual, as though everything was fine and that great big elephant lurking in the corner of the room wasn't there at all. ‘Listen, it looks like I'm free tonight. I'm on call, but things are really quiet here. I could get away.'

‘Sorry, I'm due at Emma's final dress fitting,' she replied, opening the car door.

‘Can't you get out of it?'

‘No, Andrew, I can't,' she insisted, annoyed. ‘I'm maid of honour.'

‘I'm sorry, of course,' he apologised. ‘It's just that I haven't seen
you for weeks. Last Friday you took your niece and nephew to that comedy festival, and before that you were tied up helping your parents.'

‘That's the way it goes sometimes, Andrew. I have a life too.' She picked up her bag and stepped out of the car.

‘I know that,' he said, his voice a little strained. ‘Is it going to take long, this fitting?'

Liz doubted it, but she didn't want to commit to anything. ‘I really can't say,' she said evasively.

‘Okay,' he sighed. ‘Well, if you do finish up early, do you think you could give me a call later?'

‘I'll do my best,' she said. ‘But now I really am running late. I have to go.'

She dropped her phone into her handbag as she hurried up the street to the salon. Her last appointment had gone longer than scheduled, and then she'd hit a traffic snarl on Parramatta Road, and again on Cleveland Street. She hoped Emma wasn't going to be miffed; she could handle playing the supportive sister, but not under duress. She pushed back the door and burst in. All was quiet inside, strains of chamber music playing in the background. A woman stepped out from behind the wall of velvet drapes.

‘Oh hi,' Liz said, still breathless. ‘I'm here for Emma Beckett.'

‘Of course, come through,' she said.

Liz followed her into the back, where Emma was standing on a dais in the most amazing dress Liz had ever seen, well, at least in real life. It was a creamy shade of white, and there were glass beads, probably crystal come to think of it, and what looked like tiny pearls sewn into it in intricate patterns. The bodice fitted her like a second skin, and the skirt fell in frothy folds, as though she was standing in the ocean and waves were breaking around her, swirling and foaming at her feet.

‘You made it,' Emma said. ‘I was beginning to wonder.'

‘Em,' Liz was shaking her head as she came closer. ‘This is . . . you look . . . wow . . .'

Emma smiled then. ‘You like it?'

‘It's stunning,' she said, finally finding a word to describe it. Because she had been stunned, literally, but in a totally good way.
Emma really had a flair for this stuff. Liz wouldn't wear a dress like that in a million years, mostly because she could never pull it off. But there was no denying it was . . . stunning.