he returned he found her sitting cross-legged on a blanket at the edge of the oval beside an assortment of bags.
‘Where are we?’
‘Wundowie.’
He pulled out his smart phone and searched for it on the Internet. ‘We’ve been travelling...’
‘Nearly two and a half hours, though we’re still only about an hour out of Perth. There was a lot of traffic,’ she said in answer to his raised eyebrow. ‘And there was some mini-marathon we had to be diverted around.’ She shrugged. ‘It all took time. Would you like a sandwich or an apple?’ She opened a cooler bag and proffered its contents towards him. ‘Or water? There’s plenty here.’
He reached for a bottle of water. ‘Thank you, I’m parched.’
‘But well rested,’ she said with a laugh.
His hand clenched about the water bottle, making the plastic crackle. ‘You should’ve woken me.’
She turned from watching the boys as they continued with their game. ‘Why?’
He opened his mouth. He closed it again and rubbed the nape of his neck. ‘I, uh... It wasn’t very polite.’
‘It wasn’t impolite. You were obviously tired and needed the sleep.’
She selected an apple and crunched into it. ‘Please eat something. It’ll only go to waste and I hate that.’
He took a sandwich. Ham and pickle. ‘Thank you.’ And tried to remember the last time he’d let his guard down so comprehensively as to fall asleep when he hadn’t meant to.
It certainly hadn’t happened since Daniel had died.
His appetite fled. Nevertheless he forced himself to eat the sandwich. He wouldn’t be able to stand the fuss his mother would make if he became ill. And this woman beside him had gone to the trouble of making these sandwiches for her children and herself and had chosen to share them with him. The least he could do was appreciate it.
He and Quinn sat side by side on the grass with their legs stretched out in front of them. They didn’t speak much. A million questions pounded through him, but they were all far too personal and he had no right to ask a single one of them.
But the inactivity grated on him. It didn’t seem to have that effect on Quinn, though. She lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes as if relishing the sun and the day and the air. Eventually she jumped up again. ‘I’m going to have another run with the boys for a bit. Stretch my legs. Feel free to join in.’
He glanced down at himself. ‘I’m not exactly dressed for it.’
She took in his tie, his tailored trousers and polished leather shoes. ‘No,’ she agreed and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so summarily dismissed. ‘Oh, I meant to tell you earlier that we’re only going as far as Merredin today,’ she shot over her shoulder before racing off towards the boys.
He looked Merredin up on his smart phone. A quick calculation informed him it was only another two hours further on. Surely they could travel further than that in a day? He scowled and started answering email. He might as well do something useful. He made phone calls.
They stayed in Wundowie for another thirty minutes. He chafed to be away the entire time but was careful not to keep glancing at his watch. If they were only going as far as Merredin they’d be there mid-afternoon as it was. An additional half an hour in Wundowie either way wouldn’t much matter.
* * *
Aidan would’ve liked to have kept working when they were back in the car, but he suspected Quinn would consider that bad manners.
He dragged a hand through his hair. What was he thinking? Of course it’d be bad manners. Besides, she and the boys had kept quiet so he could sleep and it hardly seemed fair to continue to expect such ongoing consideration. Especially when they were doing him a favour.
The fact his phone battery was running low decided it. He tucked it away and glanced around to the back seat. ‘Do you boys play a sport?’
‘Soccer,’ said Robbie.
‘Robbie is the best runner on his team,’ Chase said.
Quinn glanced at him. ‘He means fastest.’
Robbie’s mouth turned down. ‘I mightn’t be in my new team.’
Quinn tensed. Aidan tried not to wince. He hadn’t meant to tread into sensitive territory. ‘Uh...’ He searched for something to say.
‘Do you play sport?’ Robbie asked.
‘Not any more.’ And all of a sudden his heart felt heavy as a stone again.
‘Why are you on the television?’ Chase demanded to know. ‘Mum said she’d seen you.’
‘Because of my job. I’m a politician so I go on television to tell people how I’d run the country if they vote for me.’
Robbie frowned. ‘Do you like your job?’
A bitter taste lined his mouth. ‘Sure I do.’
‘What do you do?’
‘Well, I go into my office most days and I go to lots of meetings and...’ Endless meetings. It took an effort of will to keep the tiredness out of his voice. ‘I go on the television and talk on the radio and talk to newspaper reporters so they can tell all the people about the things I think would make our country run better. I have people who work for me and we draft up proposals for new policies.’
‘Wouldn’t being a fireman be more fun?’
‘A fireman would be excellent fun,’ he agreed. Lord, his mother would have a fit! He almost laughed.
‘When you’re finished being a politician maybe you could be a fireman,’ Chase said.
‘And then you could play soccer too,’ added Robbie.
He didn’t know how those two things were linked. He glanced at Quinn for direction. She merely smiled at him.
‘Mum, can we play one of our CDs now?’
‘I did promise the boys we’d play one of our CDs on this leg of our journey. We burned a few especially.’
‘I don’t mind.’ It’d save him searching for topics of conversation.
‘We sing pretty loud.’
‘You don’t need to apologise about that.’
For some reason that made her grin. ‘You haven’t heard our singing yet.’
He forced himself to smile.
She slipped a CD into the player. ‘The Purple People-Eater’ immediately blasted from the speakers and his three companions burst into loud accompaniment, the boys laughing throughout most of the song. That was followed by ‘Llama Llama Duck’ and then ‘My Boomerang Won’t Come Back’.
He stared at her. ‘You have to be joking me?’
‘Fun novelty songs are our favourite.’ Her grin was so wide it almost split her face. ‘If there’s a doo-wop or chirpy-chirpy-cheep-cheep to be had then we love it.’
Hell, that was what this was. Absolute hell. He slunk down in his seat and stared straight out in front of him as the songs came at him in a relentless round. ‘This isn’t music!’ He glared at the road. ‘You could’ve warned me about this back in Perth.’ No way would he have got into the car with her then.
Then he thought of his mother.
Quinn merely sang, ‘I’m a yummy, tummy, funny, lucky gummy bear,’ with extra gusto.
He closed his eyes, but this time sleep eluded him.
CHAPTER