Page 16 of The Side Road (Love Chronicles #3)

A GOOD MECHANIC

‘Nan was old when she had Mum, wasn’t she?’ Tash, leaning forward, squinted at the photo she was holding.

‘Forty-four. They didn’t think they could have kids. Lizzy was a miracle baby.’

‘She was a gift from God.’

‘Or maybe they weren’t having enough sex.’

‘Oliver.’ Tash giggled. She lowered her eyes.

‘You should take photos of these pictures,’ he suggested. ‘The hard copies fade.’

‘Good idea. There are no pictures of your mum here,’ Tash said.

‘No, only the ones we have. There was an album, but Gramps lost it. Over the years, he got rid of her stuff. I should have said something, but my headspace wasn’t right.’

She stared at her father. They didn’t need words .

Eventually, she held up a photo of a baby. ‘Why am I wearing this? I look like a bowl of spaghetti.’

Oliver glanced at the picture and smiled. ‘You chose that outfit yourself.’

‘I’m a baby. I can’t even walk.’ She held up another photo. An image of a couple dancing together. ‘Who do you think this is?’

Oliver studied the photo. ‘That is a picture of old people dancing.’

A knock on the screen door. Leo bounced into the room. ‘I tried the front, but no one heard me.’

Tash showed him the photo. ‘Leo, do you know who this is?’

‘Check on the back. Sometimes they have the names and dates.’

Tash turned the picture over. Elsie Buchanan, 1972, was scrawled in blue pen on the back. ‘Cool.’ Tash picked up another photo. ‘And this, this is also Nan when she was young?’

‘Oh yes, you look like her.’ Leo held the photo next to Tash’s face. ‘I can see the resemblance. Oliver, have you seen this?’

Oliver smiled. ‘Leo, would you like a cup of tea?’

‘No, thank you. I’d like to have a look at this bike of yours and I have an hour before the fun police come to get me.’

Late afternoon, the sun was sinking as Oliver opened the garage tilt door.

Leo stepped forward, dipping his head from side to side, as he studied the machine.

Judging by the emotional look on his face, Oliver figured the older man had remembered something significant.

He might even have had a few regrets. After taking a deep breath, Leo brushed something from the corner of his eye.

Then he threw his head back and laughed.

Sensory overload. The bike had him by the heartstrings.

‘Why’s the Black Shadow so special?’ Tash asked.

‘Let me answer that,’ Leo said. ‘First, it’s beautiful to look at – like a piece of art on two wheels.

A machine sculpture, if you will. When an old bike like this gets a second chance at life, it’s a wonderful thing.

Restored, these bikes get better with age, and you can’t say that about people.

’ He walked around the bike. ‘It’s a ‘C’ series.

Entirely handmade – every part of the machine is black.

Engine, gearbox, frame, handlebars, tank – black, black, black.

Look at that speedometer. It’s a Smith’s.

And the curved knob on the dipstick. Beautiful.

’ He turned to Tash. ‘Darling, if you can’t pick up on this little beauty, there’s something wrong with you. Have you tried to start it?

‘The motor’s seized,’ Oliver said.

‘What the hell are you going to do with it then?’

‘We’re going to rebuild it and sell it,’ Tash said.

Leo let out a whistle. ‘That’s a big investment. These pre-Hinkley British bikes are expensive. You’ll have to get the parts from the UK. Order quality because the cheapest is usually the most expensive in the long run. How long do you think it will take?’

‘About six months,’ Oliver said. ‘Do you know who it belongs to?’

‘I do.’ Leo grinned. ‘I asked around. Apparently, it belonged to your pop. Rumour is he loved this bike more than he loved your Nan.’

‘Wouldn’t be hard,’ Oliver mumbled.

‘He shipped it over from the UK on a cargo freighter. Took it apart in 1985. When he put it back together, it wouldn’t start. He thought Elsie hid some of the pieces. I’ll give you a thousand dollars for it. ’

‘It’s not for sale,’ Tash said. ‘After we fix it up and sell it, we’ll be rich.’

‘From what I hear, you need the cash. You’re going to need a good mechanic. Know of anyone?’

Tash pointed at her father.

‘I said good.’

Tash giggled.

Oliver heard the rumbling engine of the BMW turn onto the street. His heart stirred.

Leo glanced at his watch. ‘She’s early.’

A few minutes later, Snood came bounding into the backyard. Tash ran over to the dog and wrapped her arms around him. Snood was sporting a new navy and white bandana.

Mia wasn’t far behind. Wearing jeans and a country-style checked shirt with her hair out, she looked younger.

‘Oliver, can you take a look at the BMW?’ Leo asked. ‘It’s still playing up and Mia’s had terrible experiences with mechanics in the past, haven’t you?’

Mia nodded. ‘I know nothing about cars or bikes except they need petrol and get you from A to B.’

‘These days, some of them don’t even need petrol.’ Oliver held out his hand. ‘If you give me the keys, I’ll bring it around.’

Mia dropped the keys into his hand.

On the footpath, Oliver straddled the bike and started the engine. He rode it up to the garage and dismounted.

Conveniently, Leo asked Tash if she needed help with the old photos and Tash was keen to show him her collection. Together they climbed the back steps and headed inside the house.

Mia and Oliver were alone, and a nervous look crossed her face. She slipped her arms behind her back, and he thought she might be holding her own hands .

‘I see you got home safely,’ Oliver said. ‘How are you?’ He checked the wiring that connected the starter motor.

‘Fine, thank you.’ There was a scuff on the concrete. She rubbed it back and forth with the toe of her shoe.

He ran a hand over the carburettor bowls. An oil leak; he rubbed the drops between his fingers. ‘Mia, it occurred to me that if you weren’t dating right now, you might want sex. Just sex,’ he said, wiping the oil off his hands with a rag.

Lifting her head, she stared at him. ‘You want to have sex with me?’

He laughed. ‘I thought you might want that.’

She rubbed her brow. ‘And you’re volunteering.’

‘If you want to have sex with me – just sex – I can do that. But if you want something more, I can do that too.’

She looked like a startled rabbit. ‘And which is your preferred option?’

‘The second one. I like you.’

‘Are you always this open?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t think that’s a bad thing.’

‘No, it’s not,’ she agreed.

‘Do I get to take you out?’

‘Let me think about it. Do you know what’s wrong with the bike?’

‘Carburettor bowls are cracked. I’ll order the parts.’

She looked around the garage, taking in the Black Shadow. Nearby, a notepad showed sketches of the bike surrounded by columns of notes.

‘How are the repairs going?’

‘I’ll start rebuilding the engine next week. After that, the ignition system. Replace the clutch – new discs and springs. Repair the suspension and the electrical system.’ He paused. ‘Tell me you’re not turned on right now.’

‘I’m not turned on right now. ’

‘Liar.’ He grinned.

Finally, the hint of a smile.

When Leo and Tash returned, Mia jingled her keys. ‘Blanche is making dinner – spaghetti and meatballs. We don’t want to keep the pasta waiting.’

‘The pasta gets very saucy if it’s kept waiting,’ Leo said. He plucked his helmet out of the sidecar and slipped it on. Mia did the same. Snood jumped in and sat between Leo’s legs. He patted the dog’s head. Mia started the engine, and they rode down the driveway.

Later, sitting at the kitchen table, Oliver opened his laptop.

An email from his lawyers, Equity and Associates, had arrived.

They suggested he sue Elsie’s estate. A tempting thought, but Elsie didn’t have any money.

Taking legal action after the woman had died served no benefit.

The will was now in probate. The forgery raised many complications.

He couldn’t legally own or sell the parsonage for at least another year.

He opened his financial spreadsheet. His accounts were healthy, ballooning with the recent addition of the carer’s leave he had taken, and four weeks’ holiday pay, plus loading.

He would receive his last salary payment at the end of the month.

It was just the two of them; the household budget was small.

Finding a job could wait a few more weeks.

If he had to, he could free up some cash.

Tash strolled into the kitchen holding her knitting. She leaned on her father as if she were a prospector, and he was her shovel. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Updating our budget.’

‘About that rabbit. ’

He squinted, pretending to scan the spreadsheet. ‘Nope, I can’t see any rabbits on here.’

‘You could put one in.’ She pointed to an empty line. ‘It could go right there. Cute bunny. Times one.’

Oliver smiled. He typed ‘Rabbit’ on the bottom of his spreadsheet. In the cost column, he entered fifty dollars. In the monthly budget column, he wrote twenty dollars.

Tash chewed her lip. ‘The Angora ones are more like three hundred dollars.’

He reeled. ‘Honey, that’s a birthday present.’

She sat down across the table from him. ‘What’s for dinner?’

Oliver raised his hands. ‘Right now, I have no idea, but whatever it is, it’s going to be healthy.’

Attempting to improve his daughter’s diet, Oliver had stocked the fridge and pantry with fresh produce and healthy snacks.

He pushed the fruit bowl in her direction.

At the supermarket, he had selected the smallest pieces of fruit.

The apples looked non-threatening, and the bananas were approachable.

Tash rose and went to the pantry, searching for chips and biscuits, but came back empty-handed. ‘We’re going to starve to death.’

‘No, we’re not.’ Oliver closed his laptop.

‘You should know, Nan told her church group that you abandoned me. They looked at me like I was Orphan Annie.’