Page 29 of The Side Road (Love Chronicles #3)

JACK brOWN

The following day, Oliver waited at the school gate for Tash.

If he wasn’t there, she would catch the bus.

An afternoon walk suited his stay-at-home routine and his daughter needed the exercise.

He left the Citroen on the far side of a nearby park, and they would stroll via the river back to the car.

As Tash passed through the school gate, she tossed a book at him. ‘Blah,’ she said. ‘I have to read this, which means you have to read it too.’

Oliver caught the book on his chest. It was Romeo and Juliet .

‘Not happening.’ He handed the book back to her.

She slipped it into her backpack. ‘Can I leave school?’

‘No.’

‘But you left school when you were twelve.’

‘I was sixteen and I had a job.’

‘Working with your father?’

‘Yes.’

‘The worst time of your life. ’

‘That’s right.’

‘Can I come and work for you when I’m sixteen?’

‘You don’t want to be a mechanic.’

‘I might. You can’t pour cold water all over my mechanic dreams just because I’m a girl.’

From the corner of his eye, Oliver clocked a fair-haired boy walking behind them.

Catching a glimpse of Oliver, the boy stopped and tied his shoelace.

‘You have no interest in motorbikes or cars,’ Oliver said. ‘Which makes it difficult to be a mechanic.’

They continued down the street. When Oliver checked over his shoulder again, the boy wasn’t far behind. Oddly, he had also stopped and was now staring at the sky. Oliver followed his gaze, but there was nothing to see.

‘Don’t look now, but I think we’re being followed,’ he whispered to Tash.

Tash immediately turned around. ‘Listen to me.’ She paused in the middle of the path. ‘If you don’t stop following us, we’ll call the police.’

Oliver rubbed his forehead. Sometimes, he had no idea who this twelve-year-old girl was.

‘I’m not following you,’ the boy said. ‘I’m just going the same direction, that’s all. May as well walk together.’

‘No,’ Tash said.

‘It’s a free world,’ he replied.

Tash sighed, heavily. She turned and continued down the path.

The boy fell in beside Oliver.

‘I’m Jackson Brown. I go to school with Tash. You can call me Jack.’ The boy held out his hand.

‘Nice to meet you, Jack Brown,’ Oliver said and introduced himself .

Tash slowed her pace. ‘I didn’t know your name was Jackson.’

‘I was named after the singer. But I go by Jack, so there’s no confusion.’

Oliver suppressed a smile.

‘Did you get in trouble the other day? Your dad looked angry,’ Tash said.

‘He’s not my dad. He’s my mum’s partner, but he takes care of me and my sister.

He looks mean, but he’s cool, and he’s super smart.

He makes money selling junk to idiot city people for twice what it’s worth.

He gets pissed off about school shit, but didn’t tell Mum because she would have lost it.

’ Jack turned to Oliver. ‘So, how’s it going with you? ’ he asked.

‘It’s going great. And you?’

‘No complaints. I heard about the bike, the Black Shadow. Can I see it sometime?

‘Sure.’

‘I got a free afternoon right now. My stepdad said you used to race superbikes. He said you were pretty good.’

‘That’s kind of him.’

‘I’ll come by later,’ Jack said.

Standing in the garage, Jack placed his hands on his hips as he admired the Black Shadow. He squatted, and moving his head from side to side, checked out the form of the bike and the tyres. After grabbing a rag, he began polishing the tank. ‘There’s a mark,’ he explained.

‘I just fitted new spark plugs,’ Oliver said. ‘We might start her up.’

‘Seriously?’ Jack beamed .

Oliver straddled the bike. He kicked it over. The engine grumbled and came to life.

‘You did it!’ Tash said. ‘You fixed it.’

Oliver tilted his head. ‘Not yet. Listen.’

They paused, listening to the reverberating rumble of the bike.

‘It’s too loud. Piston slap?’ Jack suggested.

Oliver smiled. The boy was priceless. ‘I need to pull the heads off. But keep listening, there’s something else.’

A muffled, irregular sound came from the engine.

‘It’s the exhaust?’ Tash said.

Jack’s head swivelled. He stared at Tash.

‘You are correct,’ Oliver said. ‘It’s rusted. We’ll need to replace it.’

Jack shook his head. He let out a long whistle of air. ‘The big question is, do you go for an original or a replica?’

‘Original,’ Tash said. ‘We’ll get more money if it’s original.’

‘That’s all very well.’ Jack crossed his arms over his chest. ‘But where are you going to get the parts?’

‘We won’t.’ Oliver cut the ignition. ‘But we can get a custom version made.’

‘That will cost a pretty penny,’ Jack said.

‘Jack, by any chance, is one of your parents English?’ Oliver asked.

‘My stepdad. He’s been in the country for twenty years, and he still calls thongs flip-flops. Drives Mum crazy.’

‘That would be annoying,’ Tash sympathised.

‘Mind if I drop around now and then? Check on the progress?’ Jack asked.

Tash let out a long stream of air through her nostrils – Jack had that effect on her. ‘I guess it’s fine,’ she said.

In the distance, the sound of a Harley-Davidson reached them. The rider pulled up outside the house and dismounted. He removed his helmet, gloves, and bandana. After leaving the items on the bike, he stroked his beard several times before walking toward the garage.

‘We met yesterday.’ Ben held out his hand. Oliver took it. ‘You’ve met my son, Jack.’

Oliver looked at Jack. ‘Ben is your dad?’

‘Stepdad,’ Jack clarified.

Oliver introduced his daughter.

‘We’ve already met,’ Ben said. ‘The two of them were in detention together.’

Oliver raised an eyebrow. ‘ Detention .’

Tash slinked behind the bike.

‘A minor incident.’ Ben dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand. ‘And congratulations. I hear you got the lead.’

‘Thanks,’ Tash said. ‘But I’m not doing it.’

‘Oh, but you must,’ Ben said. ‘There’s only a small window in life when a girl can play Juliet. It’s a role some girls would die for. On stage, of course.’

‘You got the lead?’ Oliver said. ‘In the play?’

Tash nodded.

‘You know how every day you come home from school, and I ask you what happened. You didn’t think to tell me you’re playing Juliet?’

‘We’ll talk about that later.’ Tash signalled to Jack. ‘Let’s get some snacks.’ Together they walked to the house.

‘She used to tell me everything,’ Oliver mused.

‘Jack’s sister was the same.’ Ben leaned against the frame of the garage door. ‘It’s like we’ve been dumped. For years, you were their best friend, their go-to person. The number one human in their life. You loved spending time together, and you thought it was going to be like that forever.’

‘But it’s not.’

‘No. They hit puberty, and you’re dumped with no explanation. There’s no closure. No conversation. You’re left picking up the pieces of your broken heart. And the worst thing is, you’re living in the same house. Day in, day out.’

‘It’s not easy.’

‘It gets worse because at some point you realise what’s happening – you’re losing the love of your life – so you try even harder to keep things together.

You overcompensate, but this pisses them off even more.

That’s when the nagging starts. Clean your room, wash up after dinner, take the trash out.

You hear yourself saying these things every day, over and over. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.’

‘But you can’t let them do whatever they want!’

‘Of course not, but at the end of the day, you have nothing to show for it. You can nag all you like, but it doesn’t work. They also lie – all the time.’

‘What’s the answer?’

‘I’m not opposed to bribery – for their own good.

If Tash does the play, get her something she wants as a reward.

’ Ben looked around the garage. ‘This is a good set-up. You could put a shingle out. Get a bit of work on the side. Big bike community around here. We’re always looking for a talented mechanic.

If you need any second-hand furniture, let me know. ’

‘You flip furniture?’

‘I do. The mid-century stuff makes me a good profit, but the late colonial pieces or federation are where the big money is. Stripping back timber is a miserable job, but people love to watch me do it. I have a healthy social media account. Now, let’s have a look at this bike.’

For dinner, Oliver made another serving suggestion meal. Classic baked beans included chickpeas, canned beans, and tomatoes. The recipe had over two hundred five-star reviews. He was serving the beans with leftover pork and broccoli on the side, as per the suggestion.

As he spooned the hot beans onto the plates, he turned to Tash and said, ‘Detention? Would you like to explain?’

‘About that,’ Tash said. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’ At the sink, she filled two water glasses and put them on the table.

‘Before you begin, know that I will be seeing your teacher very soon.’ Oliver placed the plates on the table. They sat down to eat.

She sighed. ‘Okay, here’s the thing. We have this homework diary, which our parents are supposed to sign.’ Tash picked a bean out of her meal and dropped it into her mouth. ‘Nan signed it last week.’

‘How’s that… Oh, you’ve been signing her signature. Forgery runs in the family, on your mother’s side.’

‘I didn’t think Mr Healey would notice. But he figured it out.’

‘You spend hours in your room. If you’re not doing homework, what are you doing?’

‘Reading.’

‘What are you reading?’

She hesitated. ‘Just a book about dragons.’

‘Okay, how much money have you saved?’

‘Fifty dollars. And I have one hundred dollars left from my birthday money.’

‘That’s half an Angora rabbit. I’ll buy the other half if you do the play…and finish your homework.’

‘Deal,’ Tash said. Picking up her fork, she devoured her beans.

It was too easy. She was one step ahead of him. Next time, he wouldn’t underestimate her. This was a temporary setback in his path toward mastering the art of strategically parenting an almost-teenager. He made a mental note to plan his moves more carefully. She wouldn’t outsmart him again.

After dinner, Tash picked up a copy of Romeo and Juliet . ‘If I’m going to read the role of Juliet, then I have to practice. I need someone – and there is only you – to play all the other parts.’

‘Okay, but I’m not dressing up. And you should know, I’m going to be bad at this,’ Oliver warned. ‘It’s not my thing.’ He picked up the book. ‘It’s a tragedy, right?’

‘It’s insta-love. We’ll be reading aloud in class next week.’

Oliver turned the book over in his hands. ‘Set in Verona, during the Renaissance – a wonderful time in history when children obeyed their parents. There are a few good sword fights, and people die, if I remember correctly.’

‘Insta-love with violence and death. What’s not to love?’ Tash rolled her eyes, already bored. ‘One moment Romeo is head over heels in love with Rosalind, moping about all heartbroken, then a couple of pages later he’s forgotten all about Rosalind and moved on to Juliet.’

‘Sounds normal to me.’

She studied her father. ‘Maybe you should practice. I’ve never actually seen you read a book. You left school when you were eleven.’

‘Sixteen.’ Oliver opened the book. ‘Okay,’ he cleared his throat. “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. And…that I, well, I were a glove upon that hand.”’

‘Good,’ Tash said. ‘Oliver Overton, you are full of surprises. Can we have spaghetti and cheese for dinner tomorrow?’

‘With veggies on the side, yes.’

‘Go to Act Two, Scene Two.’ Tash opened her copy and began to read. “O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name…” ’

‘Hey, Juliet, slow down. I’m still looking for the page.’

The following day, Tash came home to find an Angora rabbit sitting on her bed. She named the animal Buttons.

Leo donated a bar fridge from the Men’s Shed.

Oliver repurposed an old dresser to use as a beverage station so he could make tea and coffee in the garage while he was working.

Biscuits were also available, stored in mouse-proof containers.

In the far corner was a makeshift gym. Oliver dragged the Parker furniture onto the paving.

The cushions and throw rugs that covered the lounge and chairs were Blanche’s contribution.

He set up his record player, and he stacked his father’s collection of vinyl nearby.

Ben had spread the word – bike owners were always looking for a talented mechanic.

Oliver didn’t need to hang out a shingle; vintage cars and motorbike owners were calling him; a few had booked their vehicles in for repairs, while others had baulked at his hourly rate.

One man told him he was the most expensive mechanic in the country.

Oliver thought that might be true. It didn’t bother him.