The Right Time (34 page)

‘Um, just from the bathroom, I'm fine.'

‘Sorry I didn't call yesterday, I got completely caught up – we had our first meeting on site, at the venue, and well, thank goodness we're still a couple of months out is all I can say. I had to wonder if they'd even read any of my emails. But that's enough about me. Tell me all about the interview!'

Ellen's brain finally caught up and she sighed with relief. ‘Oh, it went really well, thanks, Em.'

‘So what do you think of your chances?'

‘I don't know . . .' Ellen flinched a little as she felt Finn's hand on her back. It was just an affectionate touch, familiar even. But Ellen felt uncomfortable, naked . . . probably because she was naked. And she didn't want to sit here naked talking to her sister while he watched. That felt weird. She drew the sheet partway around herself.

‘They said it'll be at least a couple of weeks before they let us know,' she said into the phone.

‘That long?' Emma remarked. ‘How many people did they interview for the position, do you know?'

‘No idea.' Ellen was scanning the room for something she could grab to cover herself with. ‘Ah, let me think, there was a woman ahead of me, and two more waiting when I came out. And I think the interviews had been going all day.'

‘Well, that would amount to quite a few,' said Emma. ‘Let's see, that's . . .'

Ellen didn't want to cut Emma off after she'd been so good to her, but she was finding it hard to concentrate. She lurched from the bed to the door, grabbed her robe off the hook and wrapped it haphazardly around herself as she opened the door and ducked out. She didn't look back at Finn, she didn't want to see the expression on his face.

‘– so there could be as many as twenty, maybe even more. Is that usual for a teaching position?'

‘Honestly, Em, I wouldn't know,' said Ellen. Now that she was
out of Finn's sight, she put the robe on properly, crossing it right over in front and holding the phone under her chin as she tied the sash firmly. ‘It's different in the public system, your number comes up and the interview is more or less a formality. I don't know how many people usually apply for a job in a private school.'

‘Well, we'll just have to keep our fingers crossed,' she said. ‘What else have you been up to?'

‘Nothing,' she blurted a little too quickly. ‘Um, you know, the kids are with Tim this weekend, I've just been hanging around.'

‘Oh Ellen,' said Emma. ‘You can't keep this up. You've got to start putting yourself out there. You have to make a life for yourself.'

Ellen had a momentary impulse to tell Emma who was in her bed right now, but that would only complicate matters. She didn't even know what to do about the fact that he was still in her bed. One thing for sure, she wasn't going back in there, she didn't want to give him any ideas about cosy Sundays sleeping in and breakfast in bed. No, this was supposed to be easy, unfettered, two consenting adults, all that . . . and now she didn't know how to get rid of him so that she could deal with what just happened.

‘I'm trying,' said Ellen. ‘I really am. It's just going to take time.'

‘I suppose,' Emma sighed. ‘But you don't want to lose your last real window of opportunity.'

‘Pardon?'

‘This side of forty you've got more chance of finding someone than after you go over to the dark side.'

‘This is doing wonders for my morale,' Ellen said drily.

‘I'm only telling it like it is,' said Emma. ‘But I have to dash, we're meeting some people for brunch.'

‘Okay, thanks for the call, and you know, I haven't even thanked you properly for Friday –'

‘Yes you did,' she dismissed. ‘Besides, I think I had more fun than you did.'

Emma rang off and Ellen put down the phone. Her heartbeat had settled back to a normal rhythm, and she wasn't breathless any more. But she still felt like she'd been run over by a truck . . . in a good way, she supposed. She lowered herself onto a kitchen chair and leaned her elbows on the table as she cupped her chin in her
hands, staring out in front of her. Okay, she'd done it. She'd had sex with someone other than Tim. But it was not like any sex she'd ever had with Tim. She'd really lost it in there, and that was freaking her out. Ellen was not accustomed to being out of control, especially with a virtual stranger. She supposed Finn wasn't exactly a stranger, but it's not as though they were close . . . well, they were now . . . No, they weren't!

She could not make a big deal about this; she was the one who said let's just do it, get it out of the way, obligation-free, consenting adults and all that. Only now she felt like an adolescent. How had she got to this age and never had sex like that before? Somewhere, quite deep inside her, she felt a little pissed off.

‘Ellen?'

She jumped, looking up.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.'

It was Finn, fully dressed, gazing down at her, bringing his hand to rest on her shoulder in that same affectionate, familiar way. Ellen stood abruptly and moved out of his reach. She needed distance if she was going to keep her head around him.

‘Is everything all right?' he asked. ‘Are you okay?'

She nodded. ‘I'm fine. Great. All is well.'

‘Okay,' he said, a little bemused.

‘So, um,' she said, putting more distance between them by backing into the furthest corner of the kitchen. ‘Can I get you anything . . . before you head off?'

She saw it, unmistakably, the penny dropping, along with his face.

‘No,' he said. ‘Thanks. I'll get out of your way.'

Now she felt mean. She had no idea how to do this; she just knew she couldn't be around him right now, she wouldn't be able to think straight. And she had to get her thoughts into some kind of order. She followed him up to the front door and he turned around to look at her.

‘Ellen,' he said, ‘I can't just not say anything, it seems like bad manners, if nothing else.'

She couldn't look him in the eye.

‘I wanted you to know that I'm not irresponsible, I did bring protection, but it all happened so fast . . .'

Oh God, they were going to have that conversation.

‘It's okay,' she blurted. ‘I've got an IUD.'

‘Oh . . . right then.' He took a breath. ‘But contraception is not the only issue.'

Ellen looked up at him then, her eyes wide.

‘I know you haven't been with anyone,' Finn said quickly. ‘I just wanted to reassure you that you won't catch anything from me.'

She dropped her gaze again. ‘Okay, so can we stop talking about it now?'

Ellen should have been better at all this, she was a high school teacher, for crying out loud.

She felt Finn's hand on her arm again. ‘I had a nice time, Ellen, a really nice time. I'm sorry if I disappointed you somehow –'

‘No,' she said quickly. ‘No, I'm not disappointed, you weren't disappointing. I just need some time to . . . to process . . . I don't know.'

‘Okay,' he said. ‘Call me when you have. If that's what you want.'

She nodded, still not making eye contact. He drew closer, his cheek brushed against hers and she jerked back.

‘For Chrissakes, Ellen,' he muttered, and taking hold of her face with both hands, he tipped her head back and brought his lips down onto hers in a firm kiss. Then he released her again. He opened the door, looking back at her.

‘Bye Ellen,' he said.

She swallowed. ‘Bye.'

Ellen spent most of the day in a daze; luckily housework didn't require much brain power. She busied herself with mundane chores while her mind went around in circles, getting nowhere.

It was surreal speaking to Tim when he dropped the kids off. She wondered if he could tell . . . She wondered if he'd had the same experience with Therése. It would be fascinating to know, though maybe not. He was the only person she knew in her exact situation. But was it exact? He was a man after all; sex was different for men. There was one result, and one result only for
them. Whereas, Ellen was coming to realise, there more ways for a woman to skin a cat.

She really had to work on her metaphors.

Tim was still talking, she had to focus. The kids had met Therése today, he reported. It had seemed to go well. Ellen's mind drifted imagining Finn meeting Kate and Sam . . .

‘So you will talk to them?' Tim was saying.

‘Hm?'

‘Make sure they were okay about today?'

‘Oh, of course,' Ellen roused herself. ‘I'll talk to them.'

Sam had worked his way through half the contents of the fridge by the time Ellen came back down the hall. She wanted to say, Doesn't your father feed you?, but decided to bite her tongue.

‘Did you have a good weekend?' she asked instead.

Sam shrugged. ‘I've got homework,' he said, heading for the hall.

She also wanted to say, Doesn't your father make you do your homework?, but instead she just said, ‘Please take your things with you.'

Ellen turned to Kate, who was sitting at the table, a range of snacks spread out in front of her. ‘Seriously, does Dad not have any food at his place?'

Kate grinned. ‘Not any good stuff.'

Ellen took a seat opposite her. ‘So, how'd it go?'

Kate looked at her. ‘We met her, did Dad tell you?'

Ellen nodded.

‘We had the big “talk” on Saturday night, and then we had lunch with her today.'

‘How was that?'

Kate shrugged. ‘It was okay, she seems okay.'

‘Is something wrong?'

She sighed, shaking her head. ‘Dad's just so hopeless. He warned us ahead that she wasn't very attractive. Can you believe he'd say that?'

Unfortunately, she could, all too well. Ellen automatically began to think of a way to explain his behaviour, and then it occurred to her that she didn't have to defend him, that wasn't her job any more. She shouldn't criticise or belittle him, of course,
but she didn't have to defend him, make excuses for him. He had to do that for himself now.

‘I was expecting some horrible deformed witch with a wart on her nose,' Kate was saying, ‘but she was all right. She's kind of a biggish woman, but there's nothing wrong with that.'

‘Of course there isn't,' said Ellen. ‘How was Sam?'

‘Quiet,' she said. ‘He's sixteen, Mum, he doesn't have a lot to say to a middle-aged woman.'

‘She's middle-aged?'

‘I guess, she's about the same age as you anyway.'

‘Thanks.'

Kate grinned. ‘Sorry Ma.'

Ellen looked at her. ‘You seem a lot brighter.'

‘I'm just relieved there are no more secrets,' she said. ‘You know, I understood why you didn't tell us you were separating, I really did, but one thing I counted on after that was that you promised from then on you'd tell us everything. I know you'd never keep anything from us, Mum. And now Dad's got no reason to either.'

Later, when dinner was almost ready, Ellen went into Sam's room.

‘Oh, so you're doing an assignment all about Facebook?' she remarked as she came closer.

‘Mu-um,' he groaned, clicking on the mouse to bring up his homework. ‘See, I'm doin' it.'

Ellen sat herself on the edge of the bed. ‘So, you met Dad's friend today,' she said, cutting to the chase.

Sam glanced in her direction, then back at the screen. ‘Mm.'

‘Was that okay?'

He shrugged.

‘You don't have to tell me, Sam, you don't have to talk about it at all if you don't want to,' Ellen said plainly. ‘But I just want you to know that it is okay to talk, if and whenever you want to.'

After a moment, he said, ‘It's just weird.'

‘Weird talking to me, or do you mean it was weird today?'

‘It's all weird.' He swivelled his chair to face her, though he still didn't meet her eyes.

‘I can imagine,' said Ellen. ‘Of course it's going to be weird, your parents dating other people.'

He finally looked at her then. ‘Are you going to start dating?'

Ellen could see the anxiety in his eyes. ‘It's not something I'm thinking about right now.' God, did that constitute a lie? ‘It's just not a priority for me, okay? So don't worry about it.' She stood up and walked towards the door. ‘Dinner'll be about ten minutes.'

‘'Kay . . . Thanks Mum,' he added, and Ellen could hear the relief in his voice.

Emma walked into the apartment, absolutely exhausted. She had squeezed in extra clients almost every day lately, trying to get ahead before the wedding. She'd heard people say that as the big day drew near, you started to look forward to the honeymoon more than the wedding, simply because you were so desperate for a holiday. Emma was beginning to understand the sentiment.

‘Hi darling,' she said as she walked through to the living room.

Blake was hunched over the dining room table, his laptop open in front of him, and papers spread out all around him.

‘Did you have to bring work home?' she asked.

He turned to look at her. ‘No,' he said. ‘I'm taking a look at the wedding, actually.'

‘Oh, are you?' she smiled, leaning down to kiss him, but he just offered his cheek. ‘I'm so glad you're finally taking an interest.'

‘So am I,' he said gruffly. ‘Take a seat.'

Emma was wondering what this was all about. She noticed a glass of wine at his elbow. ‘Do you mind if I get myself a drink first?'

‘Go ahead, I'll have a top-up while you're there.' He picked up his glass and threw back what was left, before passing it to her.

‘Okay,' she said brightly.

Well, he was in a mood. She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A few minutes later she returned to the table with his refilled glass, and a platter of cheese and olives and crackers.
Maybe his blood sugar was low. He mustn't have eaten yet. She fetched her glass and joined him, pulling out the chair next to him and sitting down.