Ellen frowned. ‘You seem to know a lot about all this. Do you moonlight here or something?’
Jake came back into the office then. ‘Got the paperwork, boss? I’ll start marking up the repairs.’
Finn handed him the clipboard and Jake glanced over it, before giving Ellen a nod and a wink. ‘Don’t worry, Ms Cosgrove, we’ll get it back to you as good as new,’ he said as he walked back out of the office.
Ellen looked at Finn, raising an eyebrow. ‘Boss?’
He shrugged sheepishly. ‘Yeah, I kind of . . . own the place.’
She frowned. ‘What about the garage?’
‘Mine too.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.’
He led Ellen around a corner to a small kitchenette, where a coffee machine took up most of the bench.
‘This is buying me a cup of coffee?’ Ellen said wryly.
‘Well, I do pay for it,’ he said, rinsing out a couple of mugs. ‘How do you take it?’
Finn made the coffee and passed her a cup, then he pushed open a door which led outside to a large vacant lot behind the workshop. Old tyres and car panels were discarded amongst the overgrown weeds, while a couple of whole, rusted-out car wrecks languished in one corner. Finn overturned an old milk crate for Ellen to sit, then one for himself.
As he sat down he turned to her with a grin. ‘There, don’t say I don’t take you anywhere nice,’ he said.
Ellen smiled.
‘Ah, look at that,’ he declared. ‘Finally a smile.’
‘You think I had any reason to smile today?’
‘Yeah, I do actually.’
‘And how do you figure that?’
‘Okay,’ he began, ‘you thought you were going to have to pay for the repairs yourself or lose your bonus, but instead, everything’s covered. And you know what else? The impact won’t have affected anything mechanical, including any of my hard work of the past few weeks. If you were going to get hit, it was the best place to get hit, unless you were in it, which you weren’t, so, it’s a win-win.’
Ellen shook her head in wonder. ‘You’re a real glass half-full kind of guy, aren’t you?’ she said.
‘It’s better than the alternative.’
‘Yeah, well, okay for you to say. My glass seems to be emptying out so fast these days I can’t even get it to half-full. When I came back and saw the car the other day . . .’ She paused, shaking her head, feeling teary again. ‘I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. It feels like I’m paying for something bad I did, like the whole world is against me.’
‘You can’t think like that, Ellen.’
‘Even when all evidence points to the contrary?’
He looked at her directly. ‘So you really believe the cosmos is somehow pitted against you? Sorry to burst your bubble, Ellen, but you’re just not that significant, you’re one person out of six billion across the planet. Now if you were in the path of that tsunami way back, or in Haiti when the earthquake hit . . . or let’s face it, if you were born in some poverty-stricken country in Africa, maybe you’ve got a right to feel like you’ve been dealt a dud hand. But you live in one of the richest countries in the world. You were born lucky. You’re just having a run of bad luck at the moment. And when it passes, which it will, you won’t wake up dirt poor in a hut in Africa, wondering if you’re going to get anything to eat that day.’
‘That’s very philosophical, for –’
‘A lowly mechanic?’ he finished, raising an eyebrow.
‘I was going to say “for a Monday morning”.’
He smiled, putting his cup down on the ground beside him and resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Look, I’ve been where you are before, and it sucks. But you only make it harder for yourself if you think the whole world is against you. It doesn’t do you any good.’
‘It’s just hard sometimes,’ she confided, ‘when everything seems to be going wrong.’
‘Depends which way you look at it. It is really bad luck that some dickhead ran into your car, but it’s really good luck that you have insurance. And it was really bad luck that your car broke down the other week, but how lucky are you that when it did, the tow-truck driver brought you to my place?’
Ellen grinned. She had to admit that was probably the best bit of luck she’d had in a long time. ‘How am I going to repay you?’ she said sincerely.
‘Fortnightly,’ he said, picking up his coffee cup again. ‘It’s all set out in that payment schedule I gave you.’
Winter
Liz buzzed the inter-office intercom. ‘Michelle, can you come in here for a moment?’
Liz had been checking off her appointments for the afternoon on the computer. Michelle walked into the office and sat down on the other side of the desk.
‘What’s up?’
‘I just noticed this double appointment booked in for this afternoon. What that’s about?’
‘Oh, yeah, I was going to talk to you about it,’ she said. ‘This woman rang, a few weeks ago now, wanting to book two full appointments, the last of the day. She insisted, said she’d pay for both. She has a disabled son, apparently, who needs treatment for eczema, and she wanted to see you first herself, before she brings him in. She wanted to make sure she had plenty of time.’
‘What kind of disability?’ asked Liz.
‘She didn’t say.’
‘Well, she doesn’t have to pay for two appointments,’ said Liz. ‘Only bill her for one.’
When the woman walked into the office later that afternoon, she looked fragile and weary, even though she was only around Liz’s age. She offered her a seat.
‘What can I do for you, Ms Harris?’
‘Please, call me Julie,’ she said. ‘Okay, well, here it is. My son, Alex, is autistic,’ she said, catching Liz by surprise. ‘And he has severe eczema. He can’t cope with new people, and he certainly can’t tolerate being touched by anyone he doesn’t know. Even then . . .’ She paused. ‘Anyway, we’ve tried to treat it ourselves, with medical advice, of course. But it’s just not getting any better, and the poor kid gets so agitated, he scratches himself raw. Someone has to look at him. You came highly recommended.’
Liz nodded. ‘I’d like to help in whatever way I can,’ she assured her. ‘But you need to be prepared – eczema is a complicated condition, very frustrating for the patient and the doctor, let me tell you. It’s usually caused by a whole raft of irritants and agents that are difficult, if not impossible, to isolate. I assume you’ve been down the whole food allergy route?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘We have him off dairy at the moment, but we’ve tried cutting out a lot of different foods that haven’t really made any difference in the end.’
‘That’s right, because it’s never one thing alone . . . if only,’ Liz smiled sympathetically. ‘There are environmental allergens as well, and as I imagine you know already, they’re almost impossible to eradicate entirely – house mites, grass pollens, pollution.’ She paused. ‘Having said that, the accepted and most successful approach is not to aim to cure, but to treat the individual. That will be my primary focus with Alex, the other will be to stop him from scratching. That’s hard for anyone, children as well as adults. I imagine it’s very difficult in Alex’s case.’
‘That’s why we’re here,’ said Julie. ‘I know it’s a big ask, but if you can get him to trust you . . . it will take time, and a lot of patience, but if Alex believes what you tell him, well, anything’s possible. He’s a very determined boy when he puts his mind to it.’
Julie went on to explain how Alex had to be handled – he couldn’t be touched at all, under any circumstances, which was the first hurdle. He may not even let Liz look at the affected areas this time, they’d have to wait and see. She should avoid making eye contact, but she should address him directly. He didn’t like being talked about in the third person.
‘He might have become agitated sitting around in the waiting room,’ Julie explained, ‘so my husband has ta
ken him for a walk. I said I’d call as soon as you’re ready to see him.’
‘Please, go ahead,’ said Liz. ‘Do you need to use the phone?’
‘No, it’s okay, I have my mobile,’ she said. ‘I’ll wait for them out at the lifts. Will it be okay to walk him straight in?’
‘Of course, I’ll let my assistant know.’
‘Probably best if she doesn’t speak to him, or acknowledge us.’
‘I’ll tell her.’ As she started for the door, Liz stopped her. ‘Julie?’ she said.
She turned around.
‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?’
‘No, of course not.’
Liz sat back in her chair. ‘How do you do it, how do you cope?’
Julie shrugged. ‘Like they say, one day at a time. It’s not all hard, he really is a great kid.’
‘I’m sure he is. I’m just wondering about the . . . relentlessness, I suppose.’
‘I couldn’t do it alone,’ she said. ‘My husband is amazing. He’s always been completely involved, he’s so good with him.’
‘Well, Alex is his son, too.’
Julie shook her head, taking a few steps back towards the desk. ‘That’s the thing, he’s not. I mean, Neil considers Alex his own, but Alex’s father left about a year after he was diagnosed. He couldn’t deal with it. Then when he realised he missed him and he wanted to be part of his life, Alex didn’t know him any more, or he didn’t want to know him. They see each other occasionally, but they can’t get established. Neil is with him every day. He’s put in the hard yards. They’re bonded for life now.’
Before Liz left her office that afternoon, she called Andrew to see if he was still at work. His secretary told her he was in surgery but that he should be through within the hour if she wanted to try calling his mobile then.
Liz had a better idea. She drove to the hospital and parked in the visiting doctors’ carpark. She was waiting out in the corridor when Andrew came out of surgery. He was talking with some colleagues when he noticed her. He excused himself and walked up to where she stood, his expression curious, to say the least.
‘Liz, what are you doing here? Are you visiting a patient?’
‘No, I came to see you,’ she said plainly.
He looked around uneasily. ‘I wasn’t going to be able to see you tonight,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Jennifer’s expecting me home for dinner.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Liz. ‘I just want to talk to you about something. Have you got time for a coffee?’
He scratched his forehead, checking his watch. ‘Okay, a quick one. I have to get changed first.’
‘I’ll wait.’
He sighed. ‘All right. Meet me in the staff cafeteria. I’ll be about ten minutes.’
‘So, what did you have to talk about so urgently?’ said Andrew when he rejoined her in the cafeteria, dressed in his civvies.
Liz took a breath. ‘I had a patient today, an autistic boy.’
His curiosity now morphed into wariness. She could see it in his eyes.
‘Poor kid’s riddled with eczema, it’s going to be a long road, but we established a tiny bit of rapport today.’ Liz paused, but Andrew remained stonily silent. ‘He was a funny kid, really. Was only interested in facts, he kept insisting I told him the facts. So that’s what I gave him – facts, statistics. He wanted to know exactly what the cream I prescribed was made of, how it worked, and I had to use the terminology, not simplify anything. He was an extraordinarily bright kid, really interesting, actually.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ Andrew said bluntly.
‘I don’t know,’ said Liz. ‘It’s just . . . well, it’s weird. Autism has had a profound influence on my life, but I don’t really know anything about it. And I certainly haven’t had anything to do with it.’
‘So you think now you’ve met one, you know it all,’ he said tightly. ‘That all autistic kids are the same?’
‘Of course I’m not saying that –’
‘Jesus, Liz.’ He was shaking his head, clearly annoyed. ‘You think they’re all like Rainman? I wish. I actually hoped that was how it was going to be with Danny, but it’s nothing like that. He regressed, he’s lost language, he can barely communicate. If we tried to bring him to your rooms, he’d be more likely to have a fit and start smashing things than sit down and listen to you.’
‘I know, I understand Danny’s different.’
‘Then what is your point?’
Liz sighed. ‘I just wanted to talk about it,’ she said, beginning to wish she hadn’t. ‘This boy, he had an unusual background, his dad left when he was quite young, but his mother remarried, and this man, his stepdad, is wonderful –’
‘What the hell are you suggesting now?’ Andrew said angrily. ‘That I leave Danny so Jen can find another guy, better than me?’
‘Would you stop taking everything I say as some kind of accusation?’ said Liz. ‘I just wanted to talk about it. It occurred to me that this boy obviously got very used to someone else, someone who’s been really good for him. You decided early on that any change could only be bad for Danny. You don’t know that.’
He dropped his head, dragging his fingers through his hair, before he looked up again, meeting her eyes. ‘This isn’t the right time, Liz. Danny hasn’t adjusted to high school at all, he’s getting further behind. They’ve had to change his aide three times this year, no one wants to work with him. He’s too aggressive, too unpredictable. Jennifer and I had to have a meeting with the principal and the counsellor a few weeks ago. They’re suggesting a special school.’
‘Andrew . . .’ Liz shook her head. ‘Why haven’t you told me this?’
He took a while before he answered her. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because you know what it means for us, for you and me.’ He paused again. ‘How many more promises can I break before you say you’ve had enough?’ His eyes were glassy, staring at her. ‘And right now, I can’t see an end to this, ever. Jen’s a mess, I couldn’t walk out on her now. And what about Samantha? She’s getting lost in all this. Everything has been for Danny, but despite all the therapies and special programs, all the money, he’s going backwards. We’ve tried everything. So now I think it’s my fault, because I haven’t been around.’
‘You can’t blame yourself,’ said Liz, on automatic pilot, as she felt her insides recoil. This was her role, to help Andrew cope.
They sat there for a while, not touching their coffees, not saying anything.
‘I have to go,’ he said finally. ‘I’m expected. I wish I could stay . . .’
‘Never mind,’ said Liz. ‘I understand.’
Parramatta Park
‘He wants to go again.’
Steve looked at Evie. They had met at the same place, but Steve led her on a different route this time.
‘Craig. He wants to go to the club again.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘You know exactly how I feel about it.’
‘So have you told Craig?’
She shook her head. ‘I haven’t wanted to bring it up, I was hoping he’d forget about it.’
‘Ah, the always successful head-in-the-sand technique,’ he nodded.
Evie gave him a weak smile.
‘You really should just tell him it’s not your thing, that you tried but you couldn’t go through with it.’
‘But I didn’t try, did I?’ said Evie. ‘That’s what he’ll say.’
‘Well, you can only lead a horse to water . . .’
‘The thing is, I can’t help feeling that if I refuse to go with him, he’ll go off looking for another avenue. I mean, he more or less told me straight that he wants to try sex with someone other than me, at least once in his life. What if he finds someone he’d rather be with?’
‘That’s what’s kept me going with Cheryl,’ said Steve. ‘Hey, why don’t you let me know when you’re going and I’ll arrange for us to go the same night. Then we can just hang out at the bar like las
t time.’
‘That’s really nice of you, Steve, but I can’t expect you to do that every time, and sooner or later Craig is going to want me to . . .’ Evie took a deep breath. ‘. . . to join in. I mean that’s the whole point, isn’t it?’
Steve nodded. ‘But you’re not going to be able to do that, are you?’ he said plainly. ‘You have to talk to him, Evie.’
But Evie couldn’t find the right moment; either the kids were around, or Craig was engrossed in some TV show, or asleep in front of some other TV show. She kept thinking that maybe she should try it . . . or at least be open-minded about it. Steve was a nice guy, a really nice guy. He wasn’t a weirdo, or a pervert. And yet he was the one who had suggested it in his relationship. Yes, it had backfired now, but Evie certainly didn’t doubt that he loved his wife. Maybe, if Evie willingly joined in, that might be enough for Craig. He’d realise that he loved her and only wanted her, that he didn’t want to see her with other men . . .
That’s when all the rationalising came to a screeching halt inside her brain, like a needle scraping across an old vinyl record. It was all very well to theorise about this, but the reality was that Evie would have to engage in some sort of sexual activity with people she didn’t know. And Steve was right, she really didn’t think she was capable of that.
Friday
As Ellen walked back to her car she was amazed yet again by how, well, ordinary it looked. You could never tell the whole side had been crushed in only a couple of weeks ago. She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her – the doors had actually been replaced, but the paintwork was seamless; even though the car was quite a few years old they had matched it exactly. Just as Jake had promised, they had brought it back as good as new.
Which was a little how Ellen herself was feeling right now. She pressed the remote lock, which was working perfectly again, opened the door . . . but then she stopped herself. She dropped her handbag on the driver’s seat, before slipping off her beautiful new jacket. She opened the back door and laid it carefully across the seat. Her beautiful new Prada jacket – the devil wasn’t wearing Prada today, she was. Never in her life had she imagined owning anything by Prada, and here she was, dressed in an entire suit. She felt as though she was an actor playing herself in a movie.
The Right Time Page 21