Did he just clench his jaw for a second?
‘Friday doesn’t really count, Ms Cosgrove, it was towed here after hours. And I said I wouldn’t get the chance to look at it Saturday, and that I’d do my best to check it out and call you Monday or Tuesday.’
‘No, you said it would be ready Monday or Tuesday,’ Ellen countered in her best teacher’s voice, the one she used to interrogate students when they were making excuses about why they were late with an assignment. ‘And so when I heard nothing yesterday I assumed, by a process of elimination, that the car would have to be ready by today.’
And when she had mentioned it to Zoe at work, and she had said she was going to pass this way this very afternoon, Ellen had grabbed the opportunity of a lift. She hadn’t had his card with her or she would have called first, of course. But she was absolutely sure he said it would be ready . . .
‘Well, the car’s not ready,’ he said plainly. ‘It’s nowhere near ready. In fact I was just about to call you.’ He paused to take a breath. ‘I’m afraid it’s not good news.’
Ellen’s heart sank. The weekend had been impossible without a car. She’d called Tim about borrowing his, but he’d refused. Point blank. He had ‘plans’, apparently.
‘So?’ she had returned. ‘Can’t you find an alternative?’
‘Can’t you?’
‘I have the children,’ she reminded him.
‘They’re not children, Len,’ said Tim. ‘They’re old enough to make their own way about. You run around after them too much.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘They are old enough to use public transport,’ he restated. ‘Or else let them make alternative plans.’
Obviously she wasn’t going to win this argument putting the kids first, Tim clearly didn’t give a damn.
‘Well, what about me?’ said Ellen. ‘I have . . . errands . . . grocery shopping . . . I need a car.’
‘So do I,’ said Tim. ‘I have things I have to do as well. Why is it any easier for me to do without a car than it is for you?’
She gritted her teeth. ‘If the kids were with you, and for some reason you didn’t have your car, I would let you use mine.’
‘Well, that’s all very well, but it’s hypothetical.’
Ellen was incensed. ‘So you think I’m just saying that?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘That’s what you’re implying.’
‘I didn’t imply anything,’ he sighed. ‘I’m just saying that I would have as much trouble doing without my car as you’re having doing without yours.’
‘Since when did it become “your” car and “my” car anyway?’ she said. ‘They’re our cars, so this is our problem.’
‘Listen, I have to go,’ Tim had said suddenly. ‘Obviously if this drags on then we’ll have to negotiate something.’
God she was beginning to hate that word.
‘. . . so I flushed out the radiator –’ The mechanic had launched into a lengthy explanation of what was wrong with the car, ‘– though it’s relatively new, maybe six months old, I’m estimating. But the hoses weren’t replaced at the same time. Maybe they weren’t as old as the previous radiator, but they still should have been changed, it’s standard practice. So I checked all the hoses for leaks and the clamps for corrosion, then I tested the coolant reservoir for cracks, because that can cause all kinds of headaches. See if you get combustion gas in the coolant –’
‘I don’t need a lecture in engine maintenance,’ Ellen interrupted with mounting frustration. ‘Can you just tell me what’s wrong with my car, and how much it’s going to cost?’
He took a breath. ‘Basically, the entire cooling system is stuffed. Whoever’s been servicing your car has been ripping you off. When they replaced your radiator they should have checked the whole system and started a schedule of repair before it got to this. But that didn’t happen, and the engine’s suffered major damage as a result. It’s probably going to cost in the vicinity of a couple of thousand to fix it.’
Ellen gasped. ‘What? But it didn’t even overheat! It just stopped.’
‘Exactly, the engine more or less seized because it was running dry. You’re lucky you didn’t crack the head, or blow a gasket.’
‘Lucky?’ she almost shrieked. ‘You call this lucky? Winning a couple of thousand dollars might be considered lucky. Having to shell it out for something I can’t even see is definitely not lucky. And now you’re telling me it should have been fixed by my original mechanic? Well, fine, I’ll just have to take it back to him and tell him it’s his problem.’
‘You can try,’ said Finn, Flynn, Flip, whatever his name was. ‘But he can just argue it’s normal wear and tear, which it is. If he’d charged you for any of the repairs I mentioned, then you’d have a case. But unfortunately you can’t get him on neglect, or oversight, or just plain incompetence, which is what this is.’
‘But you don’t understand!’ Ellen cried. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to pay for this. Seriously. It’s been one thing after another lately – first the stove, then the microwave, the washing machine, they’ve all conspired to break down one after the other, ever since my husband and I separated. Yeah, that’s right, I’m separated, that’s why I don’t have another car to use, and I’ve got two kids and I live on a teacher’s salary. Four years at university and I bet I don’t earn as much as you. And don’t go telling me I get all those holidays because holidays don’t pay the bills, even though I work through most of them, and I don’t get paid any overtime. What am I supposed to do?’
She was breathing hard, tears stinging her eyes as she stared at this man she barely knew, who was staring back at her, obviously a little stunned by her outburst. Bugger.
‘Can I get you some water?’ he asked carefully.
Ellen swallowed. Her throat was dry. ‘No, it’s okay,’ she croaked.
‘I’ll get you some water,’ he said, crossing to the fridge and grabbing a bottle. He put it on the counter in front of her. ‘Go on, it’s on the house.’
Ellen reached for the bottle, her hand shaking. ‘Thank you,’ she said in a small voice, not looking at him. The phone rang and she breathed out as he turned away to answer it. Get a grip, you crazy woman. She took a couple of sips of the water and breathed steadily, calming herself. This was excruciating. She never carried on like this in front of complete strangers.
Apparently she did now.
When he hung up the phone he turned around to face her.
‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘No worries.’
‘It’s just a difficult time right now,’ she said, regaining her composure. ‘I’m going to have to discuss this with my hus- . . . my ex-husband.’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Have you still got my card? Get him to give me a call and I’ll go over it with him if he wants.’
That wasn’t going to do any good, Tim wouldn’t have a clue. He was absolutely hopeless with cars. Ellen had had suspicions about their mechanic for some time. The car never felt any different after services, and more than once they’d had to take it back when he’d missed something. But Tim was too coy, or too lazy, to take it to someone else. Well then, he was going to have to wear this as well. It was their car, their joint responsibility. He couldn’t play the child support card this time.
‘Just give me a sec,’ the mechanic was saying, ‘and I’ll give you a lift home.’
Ellen stiffened. ‘No, you don’t have to do that.’
‘It’s part of the service,’ he shrugged.
‘Really, it won’t be necessary,’ said Ellen. ‘I’ll let you know what we’ve decided as soon as possible.’
She turned and walked quickly out of the office, picking up her pace as she crossed the tarmac to the road. She didn’t know how she was going to get home, she probably should walk in the direction of Parramatta Road again, grab a taxi. Not that she could afford one. For now she just needed to walk
. Clear her head. Calm down.
She was actually feeling mortified. She didn’t know whether she could even go back to this mechanic now. Maybe she could get Tim to deal with it? Fat chance. He didn’t give a flying fig about her problems any more.
Ellen crossed at the lights and started along the path in the direction of home, which had to be more than an hour away on foot. She would not be able to walk the distance, not in these shoes. She should have checked, should have rung first. But she hadn’t been able to find the card in her purse, she must have left it at home; she vaguely remembered slipping it under a magnet on the fridge. And then when it occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from the mechanic today, the simplest solution seemed to be to accept the lift from Zoe and get over here in person. It was stupid and short-sighted, she realised that now. Ellen was usually much more organised and rational. She planned, she didn’t do things on impulse. In fact Ellen had been the responsible one all her life, amongst her siblings, at work, in the marriage.
Apparently not any more. Now she was someone capable of flying off the handle at a complete stranger, embarrassing them both in the process. It was so unlike her. She had never even lost her temper with her students; no matter how atrociously they were behaving, Ellen always kept in control. Maybe she was finally cracking under the strain.
She was startled then by a car horn close behind her. She turned to see a green ute creeping along the road beside her. The mechanic dipped his head to look at her from the driver’s seat.
‘Can I give you a ride?’
Ellen bristled. ‘I told you that wouldn’t be necessary.’
‘Look, Ms Cosgrove, you can’t walk the whole way.’
‘Yes, I can, it’s not that far.’ That was a lie.
‘It will be in those shoes.’
She looked down at her feet, trying to think of a response, while he stopped the engine and got out. He walked around in front of the ute.
‘Ms Cosgrove, we always give customers a lift home,’ he said, ‘or to the train station, or even to work, whatever’s most convenient for them. It’s part of the service, I’m not doing you any special favours. Didn’t your original mechanic ever give you a ride home?’
‘But I live over in Petersham,’ she said. ‘It’s not really in your area.’
‘All the more reason you need a lift, I reckon.’ He opened the passenger door for her and was standing patiently, watching her. This was starting to get ridiculous; that is, her stand-off was starting to get ridiculous, particularly as a follow-up act to her outburst earlier. She should just accept the lift graciously and show this man she wasn’t a complete lunatic.
‘Okay, thank you,’ she said, walking towards the open door. She got in and he closed the door for her. She was about to tell him that she could do it, but she had a feeling that might sound petulant, and she had been petulant enough for one day.
He returned to the driver’s seat and pulled out into the traffic. ‘So where to?’ he asked.
Ellen gave him her address, then settled back and tried to relax. She wasn’t the best of passengers. She put it down to the fact that Tim was not the best of drivers – he was absent-minded and easily distracted, and Ellen felt as though she had to be constantly vigilant when he was behind the wheel. Fortunately, this man seemed to be an alert, competent driver, not surprising considering his line of work, she supposed. And he wasn’t speeding, Ellen hated speeding.
‘Listen, Ms Cosgrove,’ he said after a while. ‘I want to assure you that I’ll do everything I can to keep costs under control. I’ll reuse parts where possible, and as for the more major parts, I should be able to get good, reconditioned alternatives in most cases. It just might take a bit longer.’
She groaned inwardly. ‘That really is very kind of you,’ she said. ‘But I can’t expect you to do that. This isn’t your problem.’
‘It is if you can’t pay,’ he said, glancing across at her with a grin.
Ellen felt embarrassed. ‘Look, I don’t want you to worry about getting paid. Of course you’ll be paid. I’m not someone who doesn’t pay her bills.’
‘I didn’t mean to imply that,’ he said. ‘It was just a joke.’
She really needed to ‘chill’, as Sam would put it. She took a breath.
‘The thing is, I just don’t think I can do without a car for very long.’
‘Okay . . .’ He seemed to be mulling that over. ‘Well, if it’s any help, I can probably organise a loaner for you, say, by the end of the week.’
Ellen looked at him. ‘A loaner?’
He nodded. ‘I have an arrangement with a local smash repairer. They have a couple of old cars on hand to lend to customers when jobs go over a week. They’re nothing fancy, but they’re roadworthy.’
‘Won’t they need them?’
‘If I put dibs on one, it should be all right,’ he said. ‘I’ll call them when I get back to the garage.’
Ellen bit her lip. ‘That’s very kind, again, but how much is that going to cost me?’ she asked meekly.
‘Part of the service.’
She breathed out then, shaking her head. ‘I’ve never had service like this from a . . .’ She was about to say ‘tradesman’, but she worried that might sound like a slight.
But he was just grinning that grin of his. ‘I know mechanics can’t be trusted half the time. I used to work for some right bas –’ he stopped short, glancing sideways at her, ‘– not very honourable people. They’d just clean up parts instead of replacing them, and then charge for new parts, that kind of thing. And they’d always inflate the labour costs. I vowed when I had my own business I wasn’t going to get into any of that. It’s worked out all right for me so far.’
Ellen wondered if he was spinning her a line. But what choice did she have save to believe him?
‘Well, like I said, I’ll have to call my hus- . . . my ex-husband,’ she corrected herself, again, ‘to discuss it.’
They pulled up at lights. They weren’t far from her place now.
‘So you haven’t been separated long?’ he asked.
She turned her head sharply to look at him.
‘Just that you don’t seem used to calling him your ex,’ he said. ‘Sorry, it’s none of my business.’
Ellen looked straight ahead again. She was tempted to say, you’re right, it is none of your business. But she just said, ‘It’s the next one on the left.’
‘Okay.’
He turned the ute into her street.
‘Just up there behind the red car will be fine,’ said Ellen. ‘Thanks.’
He pulled up where she had indicated. ‘So I’ll wait to hear from you,’ he said, the engine idling. ‘And I’ll find out about the loaner in the meantime.’
She opened the car door and put one foot out onto the road. ‘Thank you,’ she said, looking back at him. ‘Mr . . . I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.’
‘It’s Finn,’ he said.
‘Okay Mr Finn . . .’
‘No,’ he smiled. ‘Finn’s short for Finlayson.’
‘Okay, Mr Finlayson.’
He winced. ‘Really, everyone calls me Finn.’
‘Well, everyone calls me Ms Cosgrove,’ she said, then she realised how that probably sounded. ‘I mean, you know, because I’m a teacher,’ she added quickly.
He nodded. ‘Okay, Ms Cosgrove.’
She took a breath. She was going to have to talk to this man at least a few more times, she was being obtuse for no good reason, and she’d better snap herself out of it.
‘It’s Ellen,’ she said. ‘And I really do appreciate the lift . . . and everything . . . Finn.’
He nodded again. ‘No worries.’
She stepped away from the car and closed the door.
‘Hey Ellen,’ he said as she started across the road to her house.
She turned to look back at him.
‘I know this sucks and it’s not fair,’ he said, ‘but just remember, nobody died.’
So a
cutesy little aphorism was supposed to make this all okay?
Ellen was beginning to stun herself – when had she become such a hard bitch? He was grinning that grin of his, but he wasn’t teasing her, there was a warmth in his eyes that she found oddly comforting.
So she said ‘Thank you’ graciously, before turning again and continuing across the road.
He tooted the horn and lifted his hand in a wave. Ellen raised her hand in return as he drove out of sight around the corner.
The following week
Evie got back to her car and switched on the ignition to check the time. Oh blast! She was going to be late picking up the kids. She would have to go straight to the school in her walking gear. She fumbled with the iPod, untangling the earphone cords from around her neck and under her T-shirt. She shoved it right down into her handbag, out of sight so Tayla wouldn’t see it. She’d have to distract her once they were home so she could sneak it back into her drawer.
She drove through the suburbs, her anxiety building with each red traffic light. She glanced at the time on the dashboard and took a breath, calming herself. Really, she wasn’t going to be late, as such, it was just that the kids were used to her being there early, already waiting as they walked out of their classrooms. She liked to get there early because that way she always got a park nice and close to the gate. But it’s not as though they were going to be stranded in an empty playground or anything.
Although from the look on Tayla’s face when Evie made it to the school, you’d think she’d been stranded on a desert island for a year.
‘Where have you been?’ she scowled, arms folded, tapping her foot impatiently.
‘I was slightly held up,’ said Evie.
‘Doing what?’ she demanded. ‘And what are you wearing, Mother, you’re so embarrassing.’
Evie decided to ignore that. ‘Where’s your brother?’ His bag was tossed next to Tayla’s, but he was nowhere to be seen.
‘How should I know?’ Tayla retorted. ‘He’s not my responsibility. You should have been here on time.’
‘Tayla,’ said Evie, ‘I heard the bell go as I was walking up the street. You’ve been waiting a minute or two. Get over it.’
The Right Time Page 15