The Right Time

by Dianne Blacklock

‘What happened to your car?’ Emma asked.

  ‘You haven’t heard?’ said Ellen.

  ‘No one tells me anything.’

  ‘So that means you don’t know about the hot mechanic, either,’ Liz grinned.

  ‘There’s a hot mechanic involved?’ Emma exclaimed.

  Ellen pulled a face. ‘Okay, exactly when did I ever say he was hot, Liz?’

  ‘Well, is he?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she insisted. ‘I don’t look at him that way, he’s my mechanic.’

  ‘You are such a snob, Ellen.’ Emma shook her head.

  ‘That’s what I said!’ Liz declared.

  ‘You needn’t get smug, you’re just as bad,’ said Emma. ‘You both think anyone who doesn’t have a university degree is beneath you.’

  ‘What?’ ‘That is so not true!’ ‘Since when?’ Ellen and Liz spoke over the top of each other in the rush to defend themselves.

  ‘Then what’s wrong with the mechanic?’ asked Emma.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong with the mechanic,’ Ellen cried. ‘But he is just my mechanic – and that’s not meant as a slur, merely a statement of fact.’

  ‘So would you go out with him if he asked?’ Emma persisted.

  ‘He did ask her to have a drink with him,’ Liz told her. ‘But she declined.’

  ‘Did you now?’ Emma raised an eyebrow.

  Ellen groaned. ‘He politely offered me a beer when I bought him some as a thankyou.’

  ‘A thankyou for what?’

  ‘For fixing my car . . . he’s my mechanic!’

  ‘You don’t even call the poor man by his name,’ Emma tuttutted. She was enjoying this.

  ‘Oh, she does,’ said Liz. ‘It’s Flynn, isn’t it?’

  ‘Ooh, Flynn?’ said Emma. ‘As in Errol? And you know what they used to say about him. “In like . . .”’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘It’s not Flynn,’ said Ellen, ‘it’s Finn.’

  ‘Still works . . . in like –’

  ‘Stop!’ Ellen held up her hands in defeat with a dismissive laugh. ‘This is so ridiculous.’

  ‘What are you so afraid of, Ellen?’ said Liz, not laughing along.

  ‘I’m not afraid of anything,’ she protested.

  ‘Sounds to me like you’re a little afraid,’ said Emma.

  ‘And you sound like Eddie,’ said Ellen. ‘He wants to take me hang-gliding to help me get over my supposed fears.’

  ‘So he rang?’ said Liz.

  ‘Yes, and that’s his solution. But then he thinks hang-gliding is the solution to everything. I don’t have to step off a cliff with only a bit of nylon to keep me alive to prove that I’m brave.’

  ‘Okay, then you shouldn’t be so afraid of putting yourself out there, Len,’ said Liz.

  ‘I’m not afraid,’ she insisted.

  ‘Then why aren’t you doing it?’ Liz persisted. ‘I know it’s hard. But don’t you want to experience passion again in your lifetime? Or even for the first time?’

  ‘She’s right,’ Emma agreed. ‘You can’t live the rest of your life without a little passion.’

  ‘Well, I just might have to,’ said Ellen.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re saying it like I have a choice.’

  ‘Well, don’t you?’ said Liz.

  ‘I don’t subscribe to the theory that there’s one true love for everybody.’

  ‘Now you’re saying you don’t believe in true love?’ asked Emma.

  ‘Of course I believe in true love, look at Mum and Dad. And I see other couples, there’s no denying that they have something really special together.’

  ‘Blake and I for example.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Ellen glanced sideways at Liz. ‘Like you and Blake. But saying that everyone can have that is like saying that everyone can be famous, or everyone can win the lottery. It doesn’t happen like that. Most people go through life in mundane jobs, and they never so much as win a scratchie.’

  ‘But finding true love is not as impossible as winning the lottery,’ said Emma.

  ‘Sure, and some people do win the lottery, some people become famous and some people experience true love,’ said Ellen. ‘It’s when we expect, or plan our whole lives around it, that we run into problems.’

  Liz didn’t like where this was heading – right for a raw nerve. ‘Well, I’m depressed now,’ she sighed. She looked around. ‘Where’s that waiter?’

  Ellen bit her lip. ‘Oh damn, I forgot, I drove. Maybe I shouldn’t have anything more to drink.’

  ‘Leave it and catch a taxi home,’ Emma suggested. ‘You can come back and pick it up tomorrow.’

  ‘We’ll share a taxi,’ said Liz. ‘You can stay at my place and I’ll drop you back to your car in the morning.’

  ‘Beats going home to an empty house,’ said Ellen.

  ‘What about you, Em? Can you stay?’ Liz asked.

  She took out her iPhone and checked the screen. ‘I’m waiting to hear from Blake, he was going to organise something for later.’ She looked at her sisters. ‘But you know what? I’ll just tell him he can pick me up on the way.’

  ‘Okay, great,’ said Liz, waving more insistently for the waiter.

  Ellen looked at Emma. ‘You’re sure the car will be all right?’

  ‘Of course, I told you, Surry Hills isn’t what it used to be.’

  The morning after

  Ellen told Liz just to drop her off at the corner; the street where she’d parked the car yesterday was one way, and Liz would have to do a huge loop to get back in the direction of home.

  ‘Okay. Well, feel better,’ said Liz.

  ‘You too.’ Ellen gave her a feeble smile before closing the car door and stepping up onto the footpath. They were both paying for last night’s overindulgence. By the time Blake had come to pick up Emma it was nine o’clock, and they hadn’t had anything to eat. Liz and Ellen had decided to go back to Liz’s, and they’d picked up food on the way, but also more wine. That had been their undoing. At least Ellen would have a few hours to recover before the kids were due home.

  She strolled up the street towards her car. Surry Hills may have become gentrified over the past decade or so, but it was still a bit grungy for Ellen’s liking, especially in the harsh light of morning, and with a hangover. She was relieved when her car came into view, right where she’d left it. She stepped off the kerb and walked around to the driver’s side as she dug in her handbag for her keys. She slipped her sunglasses up onto her head so she could see inside the dark lining of her bag, and then something caught her eye. Ellen’s gaze was drawn to the side of her car, and the huge yawning dent running along the length of it. Her heart jump-started, racing along as she began to shake, frantically looking around in a futile attempt to see who was responsible. There was nobody there, of course, it had probably happened through the night anyway. She checked the windscreen, but there was no note, no slip of paper with a phone number, details from a witness . . . nothing. Someone had rammed into her car; this wasn’t a mere sideswipe, or an accidental clip by a passing car, unbeknownst to the driver. No, whoever did this had to have known what they had done, and they drove off regardless. Bastards!

  Ellen felt her throat tightening and tears welling. She had to get off the street and into the car. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to get the door open. She found the keys in her bag and unlocked the door but she really had to reef at the handle, and as soon as it released, the alarm went off. Bugger, this had obviously screwed the system somehow. She closed the door again and fiddled with the remote lock for a few minutes, her hands shaking the whole time, until she was finally able to open the door without setting off the alarm. She dived into the car and closed the door. Only then did Ellen allow the tears to flow. And they flowed, in great rolling waves, as she hugged the steering wheel and sobbed her heart out.

  What next? Plague, pestilence? Locusts, for crying out loud? Was this some kind of karmic payback for daring to end her marriage? But peopl
e did that every day, and she hadn’t abandoned her kids or had an affair, or done anything bad. How come Tim got to start a whole new life without a hitch? What had she done to deserve all this?

  Ellen sobbed till she was out of breath and out of tears. Finally she sat back against the seat, staring out through the windscreen. She didn’t know how she was going to afford to fix this, or what she was going to do, or anything, she just needed to get out of this place and go home and be alone. She wasn’t going to phone Liz, she wasn’t going to tell anyone right now, she didn’t want to be jollied out of it. She wanted to wallow in abject misery, and feel badly done by, and rail against the world, and she didn’t want anyone telling her she shouldn’t feel that way.

  So she went home and she was duly miserable, and she felt incredibly alone. When Tim dropped the kids off she pretended she was in the middle of something and had no time to stop and chat. She’d put the car away in the garage so he wouldn’t see it; she just couldn’t be bothered telling him what had happened, mostly because she didn’t think she could handle his disinterest. And Ellen thought she might hit him if he said anything remotely accusing, like ‘Why would you leave your car overnight around there?’

  No, she would deal with this one on her own. That was how things were going to be from now on, so she might as well get used to it.

  The next day

  Ellen turned into the driveway of Southside Auto Care and pulled in over near the fence. It was becoming her regular parking spot. She’d called the school to tell them she wouldn’t be coming in today. At first she was just going to get someone to cover her morning classes, but then she thought, bugger it, why shouldn’t she take the whole day off? She barely ever took time off; she hadn’t even lost one day’s work throughout the disintegration of her marriage. She got out of the car and peered into the garage. Someone was working on a car up on the hoist, but it wasn’t Finn. She couldn’t see behind the counter in the shop from out here; maybe he was at his desk, or on the phone. She hoped so. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might take the odd day off, or have to go out for a while. Maybe she should have just rung to get the phone number for the smash repair place, but she needed to talk to someone, and Finn seemed like the right person to talk to; the ideal person, in fact. He obviously had a relationship with the smash repairers, he’d have some idea about what it was likely to cost, and she was hoping he could suggest the minimum repairs she could get away with. The doors did open and close, though she was not sure how waterproof they were now. And there was the issue of the alarm.

  As she walked towards the garage, she was relieved to see Finn appear through a side door. He didn’t notice her at first, not until she came closer, close enough to see the surprise register on his face.

  ‘Ellen,’ he said. ‘Is everything okay with the car?’

  ‘No, it’s not actually . . . I mean, yes, the car’s running fine, it’s great,’ she added quickly, seeing his concern. ‘But, um,’ she swallowed, ‘someone ran into me.’

  ‘What, just now?’ he said, faintly alarmed, coming towards her.

  ‘No, no, it happened on the weekend.’

  ‘Jeez, are you okay?’

  Something in his voice brought a lump to her throat. Cripes, don’t start crying now. She swallowed. ‘Um, yes, I’m fine, I wasn’t in the car. It was parked at the time.’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ he nodded. ‘Not that it’s good your car got hit, just that you weren’t in it. Is there much damage?’

  ‘All down the side, both doors are dented.’

  ‘That’s not so good. Did you get their details?’

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘Hit and run. I didn’t even see it happen.’

  ‘Bastards,’ he muttered. ‘But you’ve got insurance, right?’

  ‘Yes but –’

  ‘Did you drive it here?’ he asked, looking out at the line of cars parked against the fence. ‘The car is drivable, I assume?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I can drive it . . . it’s over there.’

  Finn took off towards the car and Ellen followed him. He gave a low whistle when he saw the dent. ‘They really did some damage, didn’t they? Any idea how it happened?’

  Ellen shrugged. ‘It was in a narrow street in Surry Hills, I don’t know if someone backed into it trying to park, maybe?’

  ‘I doubt it, they would have had some momentum behind them to have that much impact. Probably drunk as well, that’s why they didn’t hang around.’ He shook his head, rubbing his jaw with his hand. ‘Well, let’s take it around to my guys now, get it sorted right away.’

  Ellen just stared up at him. He was taking on the problem like it was his own. She was going to cry.

  He turned around to look at her. ‘Sorry, Ellen,’ he said. ‘Am I railroading you? I just assumed you wanted to use my smash repair guys.’

  She stirred. ‘Yes, absolutely, I do,’ she assured him. ‘That’s why I’m here. But I don’t want to put you out, Finn. You can just give me the phone number.’

  He shook his head, dismissing that idea. ‘You’re not putting me out.’

  ‘But . . .’ She hesitated.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I don’t know if I should even go ahead with the work. I’m worried about what it’s going to cost.’

  ‘But you said you have insurance? Is it comprehensive?’

  ‘Yes, of course, so I don’t want to lose my no-claim bonus.’

  He smiled then. ‘Tell me, have you ever made a claim?’

  ‘No, that’s why I still have a no-claim bonus.’

  ‘And how long have you been insured?’

  ‘Oh, gosh, I don’t know. As long as I’ve had the car, I guess. Actually even before that – we transferred it over from the old car.’

  ‘Then I guarantee you won’t lose your bonus,’ he assured her.

  ‘Really? But how can that be if I claim –’

  ‘Look, I’ll explain on the way over.’ He started to walk back to the garage.

  ‘Finn!’

  He turned around.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘Is this convenient right now?’

  ‘Yeah, no worries,’ he said, walking backwards. ‘I’ll just let Dave know to mind the shop.’

  A few minutes later Finn climbed into the passenger seat beside Ellen and directed her out of the station and up the side street to their left.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, looking at her.

  ‘I’m just a bit confused about all this,’ she said. ‘I was hoping you could tell me how much you think it’s likely to cost, if it would be better for me to pay for it myself. Maybe they could get away with a partial repair job?’

  He shook his head. ‘You’re going to have to fix it properly, Ellen. It’ll never get through rego like this. And anyway it’s easily going to cost over two Ks.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ she said, stunned.

  ‘Ellen, two doors have to be replaced.’

  ‘Replaced? They can’t just beat them out?’

  ‘That’s not how it’s done these days,’ he said with a smile. ‘But it’s going to be okay, I doubt you’ll have to pay anything.’

  ‘Seriously?’ she said. ‘What about an excess?’

  ‘Maybe you’ll have to pay a small excess,’ he allowed. ‘Depends on your insurer. Some of them have safe driver arrangements, you’re rated on the number of years you’ve had insurance without a claim. If you’ve been insured for longer than ten years and you’ve never made a claim, you’ll be fine. Did you bring your papers?’

  ‘No,’ she said weakly.

  ‘But you do know who you’re insured with?’

  She nodded.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s going to be okay, Ellen. Trust me.’

  She did trust him, strangely, but she should never have trusted Tim. Ellen had always left this kind of thing to him. It was probably sexist, she realised, but as she had to handle just about everything else, she figured it was reasonable for him to be respons
ible for matters relating to the car. They’d had one or two incidents over the years, nothing major, small bingles in carparks, that kind of thing, and Tim had always insisted they must never claim on their insurance. Ellen remembered being annoyed one time – why were they paying insurance if they were never going to use it? Tim had insisted that it was for major accidents only, if they wrote off the car, or someone else’s.

  The smash repairers turned out to be only a few blocks away. As soon as Ellen pulled up Finn jumped out of the car and walked straight over to a guy in overalls. They were in conversation when Ellen joined them.

  ‘This is Jake, Ellen,’ Finn introduced them. ‘He’s going to write up the quote.’

  ‘I’ll just go get the paperwork,’ he said, excusing himself.

  Ellen turned to Finn. ‘But if I’m going through insurance, won’t I have to get three quotes?’

  Finn scratched his head, smiling. ‘You really haven’t dealt with this kind of thing in a long time, have you?’ he said. ‘You don’t have to get three quotes any more. This is an approved repairer, and everything’s standardised now. They’ll send an assessor out this week, and they decide how much the work will cost, so there’s no need to get multiple quotes.’

  Jake returned and handed Ellen a clipboard with a form attached. ‘Just fill in the details that you know,’ he said. ‘Have you got your keys? I’ll move the car into the workshop.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ said Ellen, handing them over.

  ‘Come into the office,’ said Finn. ‘You’ll be more comfortable there.’

  Ellen followed him inside, and Finn indicated for her to take a seat at the desk where she could fill in the form. It was fairly basic, her personal information, the name of her insurer, make of car, but then it moved on to details about the accident.

  ‘I’m not sure about all of this,’ she said to Finn eventually.

  He took the form from her and scanned it. ‘This is enough to go on with,’ he said, as he sat down at the other side of the desk and picked up the phone. Was he going to call the insurer? Seemed like it; next thing he was going through the details, checking boxes as he spoke, talking schedules and appointments. He hung up the phone and looked at her. ‘All set.’