Right. He’d got his answer but now Isla thought he was a wimp. Great start.
‘Some of the staff are going to the Rooftop Bar after work,’ Isla told him. ‘Have you been invited? You’re welcome to join us.’
‘Thanks but I have a problem to sort.’
‘Your car?’ She was still smiling and, he thought, that was just the sort of thing that hospital staff the world over enjoyed. Specialist’s car being trashed, especially since most staff here could never afford to run a car like Betsy.
He loved that car and now she was a mess. But …
‘Em’s promised to sort it,’ Isla told him. ‘She’s not the sort of woman to let her insurance lapse.’
‘It’s not the insurance …’
‘And she’s really sorry. She was stricken when she first came in this morning. She’s been so busy all day I suspect she hadn’t had time to apologise but—’
‘Will she be at the bar now?’
‘Em? Heavens, no. She has two kids waiting for her at home.’
‘Two?’
‘Gretta’s four and Toby’s two. They’re special kids but, wow, they’re demanding.’
‘I guess …’ And then he asked because he couldn’t help himself. Had a miracle happened? Gretta’s four … She must have moved like the wind. ‘Her partner …’ He knew there couldn’t have been a marriage because there’d never been a divorce but … there must be someone. ‘Is he a medic? Does she have help?’
But Isla’s eyebrows hit her hairline. Her face closed, midwife protecting her own. ‘I guess that’s for you to ask Em if it’s important for you to know,’ she said shortly, clearing her desk, making signals she was out of there. Off to the Rooftop Bar to join her colleagues? ‘She doesn’t talk about her private life. Is there anything else you need?’
More information, he thought, and he’d bet Isla knew everything he wanted to know. But he couldn’t push without opening a can of worms. Evans was a common name. Em had clearly not told anyone there was a connection.
Better to leave it that way, maybe.
‘Thanks, no.’
‘Goodnight, then. And good luck with the car. You might let Em know when you have it sorted. She’s beating herself up over it. She’s a great midwife and I don’t like my midwives stressed. I’d appreciate it if you could fix it.’
‘I’ll try,’ he said, but it was too late. Isla had gone.
He headed down to the car park. He hadn’t been back to assess the damage during the day—he hadn’t had time.
The park next to his was empty. Em was gone.
Her wagon had still been drivable. Her doors had been bent, but the wheels were still okay, whereas his … One of the wheels was far from okay and he wasn’t driving anywhere. He stooped and examined it and thought of the hassle it had been to find the right parts for his little beauty. Where was he going to find another wheel rim? And the panels were a mess.
Strangely, it didn’t upset him as much as he’d thought it might. He checked the damage elsewhere and knew he’d have to get her towed—actually, carried, as there was no way she could be towed like this. And then he’d go searching for the parts he needed.
He kind of liked searching the internet for car parts. It was something to do at three in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.
Which was often.
He rounded the front of the car and there he saw a note in his windshield. Em?
Oliver, I really am sorry about this. I’ve put my hand up, it was all my fault, and I’ve told my insurance company to pay without arguing. I photocopied my driver’s licence and my insurance company details—they’re attached. One of the girls on the ward knows of a great repair place that specialises in vintage cars—the details are here, too. See you when you next see Ruby.
Em
It was all about the car. There was nothing personal at all.
Well, what did he expect? A mea culpa with extras? This was more than generous, admitting total culpability. Her insurance company would hate her. As well as that, she’d probably have to pay the first few hundred dollars, plus she’d lose her no-claim bonus.
He could afford it. Could she?
He re-read the note. What was he hoping for? Personal details?
Her driver’s licence told him all he was going to get. Emily Louise Evans. She was still using his name, then. So … single mother? How? Had she gone ahead and adopted by herself? He checked again, making sure he was right—she was living at her mother’s address.
He liked Adrianna. Or he had liked her. He hadn’t seen his mother-in-law for years.
He could drop in …
Why?
‘Because she shouldn’t accept full responsibility,’ he said out loud. ‘If she’s supporting kids …’
She’d said she’d already phoned her insurance company and confessed, but maybe he could reverse it. Maybe he could take some of the load.
The independent Em of five years ago would tell him to shove it.
Yeah? He thought back to the Em of five years ago, shattered, gutted, looking towards the future with a bleakness that broke his heart.
‘If you won’t do it with me then I’ll do it alone. If you think I can go back to the life we led … I’m over nightclubs, Oliver. I’m over living just for me.’
‘Isn’t there an us in there?’
‘I thought there was, but I thought we wanted a family. I hadn’t realised it came with conditions.’
‘Em, I can’t.’
‘So you’re leaving?’
‘You’re not giving me any choice.’
‘I guess I’m not. I’m sorry, Oliver.’
Five years …
Okay, their marriage was long over but somehow she still seemed … partly his responsibility. And the cost of this repair would make her insurance company’s eyes water.
It behoved him …
‘Just to see,’ he told himself. He’d thought he’d drop in to visit Adrianna when he’d come to Melbourne anyway, to see how she was.
And talk to Adrianna about Em?
Yeah, but he was over it. He’d had a couple of relationships in the last five years, even if they had been fleeting. He’d moved on.
‘So let’s be practical,’ he told himself, and hit his phone and organised a tow truck, and a hire car, and half an hour later he was on the freeway, heading to the suburb where his ex-mother-in-law lived. With his wife and her two children, and her new life without him.
‘You hit who?’
‘Oliver.’ Em was feeding Toby, which was a messy joy. Toby was two years old and loved his dinner. Adrianna had made his favourite animal noodles in a tomato sauce. Toby was torn between inspecting every animal on his spoon and hoovering in the next three spoonfuls as if there was no tomorrow.
Adrianna was sitting by the big old fire stove, cuddling Gretta. The little girl’s breathing was very laboured.
Soon …
No.