“What? I didn’t hear you.”

“Your car’s been–”

“Speak up, Sara!”

“Your car’s been stolen!” I shouted feeling my heart rate increase. “I don’t know what happened. I parked it fine, but okay, yeah, I’m not in the most spectacular bit of town, so it’s my fault, I guess, but fuck, I didn’t think it would get stolen. I called the police, but they sounded so disinterested, demanding you call them to confirm you let me borrow the car and I’m freaking–”

“Calm down,” he interrupted, sternly. I immediately shut my mouth tightly, and waited for him to curse me out for losing his BMW. “Fuck sake, I thought you were going to tell me something serious.” He actually sounded… relieved?

“What?”

“Thought you were going to say you weren’t coming back or something just as bad. Fuck, you scared me, booty call.”

My lips curled up and my eyebrows bunched in confusion. A “what the fuck” expression formed as I tried to digest his answer. “You’re not… mad? Your SUV’s gone, Daniel. I have to inconvenience you now by making you contact your insurance company and the police–”

“It’s just a car. Shit happens, Sara. Relax. Why the hell would I blame you for the theft of a car? Unless you hired a bunch of criminals to steal a car that I’ve lent for you to use to get around a town you have no desire to get around in, I can’t really see how this could be pinned on you. I’ve got other cars. My wallet’s thick, babe. The real problem is how are you going to get around now?”

I shrugged (not that he could see it), not having thought of that due to being too busy freaking the hell out about his reaction to the news. “I’ll use the bus or something.”

“Fuck that, no way. Aren’t there any car hires?”

“I’m good with bus transportation–”

“I’ll send you some money so you can rent a car, alright?”

“I don’t want your money, Daniel. Don’t you dare! Look, I’ll let you know if I need any help with anything. I have the skip hired out for tomorrow. I’ve got a guy coming around Friday afternoon to pick up the furniture. All I need to do is to sort through what needs to be thrown away and the clothes that need to be donated. It’s really not that much. I won’t need to drive around, you know? I’ll use the bus. It’s literally a stone’s throw away.”

“Yeah, fine.” Ugh. He was pretending to agree. I knew him too well. “Be careful. You’re in a dodgy part of town, I’d like for you to check into a not so dodgy part of town. Don’t want any bikers on your back. Can you do that at least? Get a damn good hotel room. Promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Alright. Look, I gotta go. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. Send me the police number to my phone and I’ll get onto that and sort through the other shit.”

“Okay.”

He exhaled sharply. “I really miss you, Sara.”

I smiled. “I miss you too.”

“Keep in touch today.”

“I will.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Bye.” I hung up and sighed in relief. That guy was too good to me. That realization sent a shard of glass through my chest. I wouldn’t fuck that up again.

As I looked up the bus routes on my phone, I suddenly wondered how Daniel knew I was in a dodgy part of town. Logic told me it was because his car was stolen, so it must have been pretty dodgy. But then he mentioned bikers, and he’d never been to Gosnells before. I never recalled telling him about the bikies here. Hmm, I’ll have to ask him about that.

I headed to the nearest stop. There was an extra bite in the chilly air that had me zipping up my black long coat. The sun was hidden behind large, dark clouds, and the wind had picked up, whipping through my hair and tangling it into a million little knots and reminding me why I hated November.

I checked my bank account balance as I waited for the bus and groaned in irritation at the extra six hundred dollars Daniel must have immediately placed right after the call. He’d done this. Often. When he thought I was going without, or if a bill was unpaid and the third warning had come into the mail, he had the tendency to drop a few hundred into my account. Of course I didn’t accept his money, and it became a game of ping pong. I’d return the money, and he’d resend it. The bank was so used to his money dropping, the transactions had become instant.

On the bus on route to my old neighbourhood, Lucinda texted: I have two hair appointments to get around to, but I should be home by 5. Chinese for dinner?

I texted back. I’ll be there around 5:30. Chinese sounds great. I’ll buy it.

*****

My mother didn’t have a big wardrobe, but what was in her closet was very nice and chic – definitely a far cry from the ratty, baggy shirts she used to wear. I couldn’t help but breathe in every top of hers, taking in the familiar scent that I’d known so well to be hers. Despite her alcoholism, the scent had always lingered on her skin, around her collarbone and neck, and the few times she’d cradled me into her arms as a child, I’d taken comfort in that smell.

I packed all the clothes into bags and set them on the floor of the living room beside the front door. Then I emptied the cupboards in the kitchen and packed them into boxes, setting them beside the clothes. My mom wasn’t big on clutter, I quickly realized. There wasn’t much around that was garbage worthy. She had only kept what she needed and used. I was seeing so much of this new her as I packed away her things. She loved scented candles and anything strong on aromas. The bathroom cupboards were overflowing with shower gels, shampoos, facial masks and creams. She’d really worked hard on her appearance, but I hadn’t crossed any photos of her to know if her appearance had changed. I imagined it did, though.

Why hadn’t she reached out to me when she had evidently gotten better and back on track with life? Did she really hate me so much, like him? What had I done to have grown up around that kind of loathing? I figured I didn’t need any more emotional problems in my life. I had enough with Jaxon and all. God, that guy only got sexier as he aged. Unlike me. “Some people hit their peak young, I guess.” I violently threw another bag in the pile by the door when I thought about that cruel line he’d used, in that cruel tone of his. Asshole.