The Right Time (21 page)

‘Are you sure?' Tayla asked suspiciously.

‘Try it for yourself.'

Tayla sauntered inside. ‘I guess it's okay, but it smells like chemicals now.'

‘Well, which would you rather?'

Jayden didn't seem to notice, wolfing down his food before racing back to his game. Evie was about to call after him to ask if he had any homework, but as he'd probably need her help, not least her supervision, she'd put that off for a little longer. She was desperate for a cup of tea and for a moment to sit down.

‘Do you need any help with your homework?' she asked Tayla while she waited for the kettle to boil.

Tayla gave her a pained look. ‘It's Maths. You can't even do Maths.'

She was about to argue with that, till she remembered it was quite true. Maths had never been a strength, but why did Tayla have to be so nasty all the time? Where did she get that from? Evie had been assured by other mums that prepubescent girls were a bit of a handful, but sometimes Evie suspected that Tayla was on a whole other level. She seemed to despise her. Evie had adored her mother when she was that age; she thought she was beautiful and clever and wonderful. Tayla seemed to think her mother was an idiot.

After quickly popping upstairs again to check on Cody, Evie
made herself a cup of tea and carried it into the study, turning on the computer. She might as well check her emails while she sat here in the quiet, sipping her tea. There was one from Emma, cc'd to all the bridal party.

Dear all

Bridesmaid dress fittings will be held Saturday afternoon, the 28th, at the salon in Surry Hills.

Please check the attached schedule of appointments and confirm as soon as possible. As I'm giving you plenty of notice, I trust everyone will be able to prioritise half an hour. You will not be required for longer.

Emma

God, what was with everybody today? Maybe she could see where Tayla got her snippiness from after all.

Evie sat back in the chair and threw her head back. She felt like she had when she was a kid getting picked on. She wanted to cry out, Everyone just leave me alone!

She looked around for her handbag and took out her wallet, sliding out the card that she had tucked behind her driver's licence. Evie sat there staring at it, gradually becoming aware that her heart was beating faster. That was just silly. She didn't need to feel anxious, and she certainly had nothing to feel guilty about. Steve was barely an acquaintance really, but still he was the only person she knew at the moment who she could be totally honest with. Which was weird, considering she didn't even know his surname until now, reading it from his card –
Steven Walsh, Principal, Swan Financial Services
– or that he was an accountant.

Well, what was she waiting for? She picked up the phone and dialled the number.

‘Steve Walsh,' he answered on the first ring.

What was she doing, what was she going to say? Maybe she should just hang up.

‘Hello, is anyone there?'

She took a deep breath. ‘Hi, Steve, my name is Evie, we met the other night . . .'

‘Of course,' he said warmly. ‘Hi, Evie, how are you?'

‘Oh, fine thanks,' she said mindlessly. She wasn't fine at all.

‘I'm glad you decided to call,' he said. ‘How have you been feeling since . . .?'

‘I don't know, confused mostly.'

‘Have you managed to talk to your husband about how you feel?'

‘No,' she said after a pause.

It was strange, she and Craig had been acting almost like it had never happened. They didn't talk about it; Craig didn't refer to it, and she certainly wasn't going to mention it. He looked at her warily sometimes, maybe he was a bit ashamed. She could only hope. More likely he was waiting for her to bring it up. And that was not going to happen.

‘Do you want to talk about it?' Steve prompted.

‘Oh, I can't really talk right now,' she said. Then why'd you call and bother him in the first place, you doofus? ‘It's just that the kids are home, it's not a good time. I shouldn't have called. I shouldn't have bothered you.'

‘Hey, wait on,' he said. ‘Why did you call, Evie? You must have had a reason.'

She sighed heavily. ‘I don't know. Impulse, I suppose. I've just been having a bad day.'

‘Well, look, maybe we could meet for coffee or something, then we could talk freely –'

‘I don't think so . . .' It was an automatic response, but something inside her was hoping he'd persist, talk her into it.

‘Listen, it's only coffee, in a public place,' said Steve. ‘There's nothing untoward about it, nothing wrong with it. You need someone you can talk to, Evie.'

‘Mm.'

‘Do you have time through the week when you can get away?'

‘Not really,' she said. ‘My son has come down with some kind of bug. I think I'll be confined to quarters this week.'

‘All right, then let's mark out a time next week, early . . . how's Monday?'

‘Well, I usually go for a walk.'

‘Great, I can use the exercise. Where would you like to meet?'

‘God, animal farm's exhausting.'

‘You're doing
Animal Farm
with that lot?' Zoe frowned.

‘Of course not. I don't mean the book, I mean them, 9G,
they're
the animal farm.' Ellen sighed, dumping a stack of books onto her desk. ‘I'm getting too old for this.'

‘Aren't we all,' Zoe murmured, clicking her mouse and staring absently at the screen of her computer.

Ellen didn't know what Zoe was on about, she'd only just turned thirty. And she was trim and attractive – they'd never had so many boys enrolling for Drama since she had come to the school to teach it.

‘I just feel so tired all the time lately,' said Ellen.

‘Maybe you're not getting enough iron,' Zoe suggested.

‘Maybe I'm not getting enough sleep,' Ellen countered. ‘There's only one of me now, but there's still two mouths waiting to be fed when I get home, two lots of clothes needing washing . . .'

‘You should have the kids doing some of that for themselves.'

‘Good one.' Ellen gave a dismissive laugh but Zoe swivelled in her chair to face her.

‘I'm serious,' she insisted. ‘How old is Kate now?'

Of course Kate was old enough to help out, but Ellen hadn't asked her. She didn't want her place to be all about chores and homework, while Dad's place was all about takeaway food and staying up late . . . and whatever else they got up to over there.

‘She has her studies,' Ellen shrugged. ‘I want her to focus on them.'

‘And what were you doing while you were studying?' Zoe persisted. ‘You had both kids by then, didn't you?'

‘Not when I first started.'

‘Oh yeah, that's right, when you first started you were dealing with morning sickness.'

Ellen looked at her. ‘I've told you way too much about myself, haven't I?'

Zoe grinned. ‘Christmas staff parties, a bottle of wine, can't shut you up.'

‘Well, anyway, the kids are going to have to fend for themselves some nights, because it looks like I'm going to have to look for work after school.'

‘What kind of work after school? Not Macca's I hope?'

Ellen pulled a face. ‘No, I was thinking maybe tutoring.'

‘I could think of nothing worse,' Zoe groaned. ‘Crowd control by day, and one on one by night. Why would you want to put yourself through that?'

‘How else am I going to pay all these bills? I'm not managing on a teacher's salary alone, even with Tim's “incredibly generous” child support.'

‘You could go work in a private school.'

Ellen shuddered. ‘No I couldn't.'

‘Why not?'

‘I don't know, it's against my principles, I suppose.'

‘We're public school teachers, of course it's against our principles,' said Zoe. ‘But principles don't pay the bills unfortunately.'

‘No, it's more than that. It's a family institution. Dad and Mum were both schoolteachers, and my dad's father was a school-teacher as well. You know my sister, the doctor? She could have got a scholarship to go anywhere, and she did get into selective school, but they still made her go to the local high school. They said if everyone went to their local public school, there wouldn't be any bad schools.'

‘We all know that argument,' said Zoe. ‘And I agree in theory. But it's not the way things are turning out in reality, is it?'

‘Yeah, I know,' Ellen sighed. ‘But my parents are so proud that I've stuck with it. I don't know if they'd ever forgive me if I sold out.'

‘So they're going to cover your bills?'

Ellen looked at her.

‘Listen, you know who I bumped into the other day?' said Zoe, not waiting for an answer. ‘Jodie Cartwright. Remember her? She did a maternity leave block here a couple of years ago?'

‘Vaguely,' said Ellen. ‘Pretty girl, young? Not long out of college?'

‘That's the one. She looked amazing, perfect hair, makeup, immaculate suit.'

‘So she gave up teaching?'

‘No, this was straight after school.'

Ellen blinked. ‘I look like I've been through the wringer straight after school.'

‘We all do, here in the trenches. But she's working at the Privileged Ladies Club.'

They had barely disguised pseudonyms for all the private schools.

‘She told me she has twenty to a class,
max
, no special needs, double the non-teaching periods, and she can call in guest speakers as often as she likes. They go to the theatre regularly, literary festivals, trips overseas. And she's on nearly fifty percent more pay than us, even though she only has half as many years' experience.'

Ellen sighed. ‘So what are you waiting for?'

Zoe frowned. ‘No thanks, I don't want to teach kids with a better credit rating than me.' She got to her feet, picking up the mug off her desk. ‘Besides, you're the one looking for extra work. I've still got a husband at home to help pay the bills. I knew he was good for something. Want anything while I'm up?'

‘No, thanks.'

Ellen's mobile phone started to vibrate in her pocket. She took it out and flipped it open.

‘Speak of the devil,' she muttered to herself as Tim's name came up on the screen. ‘Hello,' she said in the key of weary.

‘Hi,' he replied, in the key of chirpy. ‘Haven't caught you on class, have I?'

‘I wouldn't be answering my phone if I was on class, Tim.'

He laughed a nervous laugh. Which made Ellen nervous.

‘So how did everything turn out with the car?'

Now he was interested. Their last conversation regarding the car had been strained to say the least. She had called him after Finn had dropped her home that day.

‘Well,' he'd said when she'd explained the situation, ‘I'm not sure what you want me to say. It's really up to you, it's your decision.'

‘What exactly do you mean by that?'

‘Well, it's your car –'

‘No, Tim, it's
our
car,' she said evenly. ‘It says so on the rego.
And these rather major problems it's experiencing obviously started while we were still together.'

‘Look, Ellen, we decided when we split who got what car, you can't renege on that now because yours has broken down. We could never allow for every possible contingency, but the arrangement we came up with at the time was fair and equitable.'

Ellen had lost it then. ‘Fair? You want to talk about fair? If you think this is even vaguely fair, then let's imagine swapping the entire scenario. I'll go live in a flat and have the kids every second weekend, and I'll pay you child support, which will be less because I earn less than you do, or have you forgotten that? So, once I pay my “fair” share, I'll only have to cover their food and incidentals when they're with me, while you get to pay for everything else, fees and books and clothes and all their food and basic needs, plus maintain the house, deal with a dud car and only get three days a fortnight to yourself. What do you think?'

That had shut him up. He'd mumbled a promise to give her some money towards the repairs.

When she'd called Finn to give him the go-ahead, he had outlined her payment options. As long as she paid for the parts straight up, she could pay off the labour costs over time. Although she tried to argue with him, he assured her, once again, that it was part of the service. But he left it up to her, it was merely an option, he said. And the loaner was available for her any time she wanted to pick it up.

Ellen didn't know why her immediate reaction was to baulk at all this. She should have been thrilled to find such a terrific mechanic, and she was, on one level. But she also felt . . . beholden, as though she was going to owe him . . . and Ellen didn't like being in that position.