‘Wow!’ said Fleur, arms wide. ‘Oh Dottie, well done!’
Dorothy went sideways, stiffly, into the embrace. ‘No big deal,’ she said. The women looked questioningly at Sam. ‘This is Sam. Fleur, Kate. He’s from the mechanic’s. A new mechanic?’ she prompted him.
‘No,’ he said, ‘but under new management.’
‘He’s got flyers.’
‘Oh.’ Fleur’s gaze was stuck on the beanie. ‘Thanks.’ The women politely took them.
‘Because you were having trouble with your brakes, weren’t you?’ Dorothy asked Kate.
‘Oh – yes. They fixed it.’ She shrugged and smiled at Sam. ‘Not your mechanics, sorry. Rivals, I suppose! But we’ll definitely come for a quote next time.’
‘Thank you.’ He nodded and wandered a little way off to pass leaflets to other people. The bell rang and the doors to the school building opened and suddenly children were everywhere, darting around the quadrangle, the thud of soccer balls against a wall, shrieks and giggling.
There was Grace, with her friends. Their pod circled the crowd, arms folded. Last time Dot had been here her daughter still ran around the netball court, playing games. ‘What do they talk about?’ she asked Kate.
‘God only knows,’ Kate said. ‘I roll my eyes.’
The nursery kids were let out. Donald sprinted up and dumped his schoolbag at her feet and said, ‘Where’s Chloe?’
‘She couldn’t come today.’
‘Mummy! Can I go to Ivan’s house, please, can I,’ and shook his hands in prayer and Ivan’s mother from the other side of the playground raised an arm and nodded, and Dorothy called, ‘Thank you,’ and kissed her son’s ducking head before he raced away.
‘Are you going to that road-safety meeting?’ Fleur asked.
‘Can’t,’ Kate said. ‘Ted’s got shingles.’
‘Oh no.’
‘You should go.’ This was to Dorothy, with significant eyes.
‘I know.’ The cautionary tale. Poster girl for speed limits, sober driving, pedestrian crossings, chicanes, judder bars, cycling helmets, slow down signs, check before you step notices, rigorous broken yellow line parking prosecution and not letting your life get out of control. ‘Maybe it would be too much. I don’t want to freak people out.’
‘Dottie, you lost your sister. It happened. People are freaked out. It is a freak-out situation.’
‘I don’t want Eve to be some sort of exhibit.’
Kate nodded. ‘Well. That’s different.’
‘How did Ted get shingles?’
‘Kids. Chicken pox. Stress. Midlife crisis. Take your pick. At least it’s keeping him where I can see him.’
The wind licked coldly at Dorothy’s head. She had once had a beanie, like Sam. She shouldn’t have thrown it on the fire.
Sam walked towards them, giving a half-wave. ‘Thank you, Dorothy,’ he said.
‘Any takers?’
‘A few. I’d better be going.’ He smiled at Grace, who’d attached herself sinuously to her mother’s body. ‘Hello.’
‘Mummy,’ she said, nuzzling Dorothy’s upper arm. ‘You’re here.’
Dorothy stroked her daughter’s honeyish hair, wanted the hug to go on for ever. ‘We’re going to the playground,’ she said to Sam over Grace’s head. ‘Would you like to come?’ Amy doofed into the backs of her legs – ‘Mama!’ – and she nearly lost her balance. ‘Don’t do that,’ Dot said loudly. ‘Don’t do that to me.’
‘Don’t do that to Mum you stupid idiot,’ said Grace.
Amy looked at them. A decision was made and her face dropped and she hung her head. Dorothy lowered herself to the ground on one knee and pulled her into a hug. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Sorry for giving you a fright. I didn’t mean to shout.’
‘Who’s he?’ Amy’s voice buried in her neck.
‘This is Sam.’ Getting up was going to be difficult. Dot put a hand forward to the wet asphalt, backside in the air, and pushed up all her weight through one knee. Fabric squeaked around the seams of her trousers and blood whumped in her ears. They were the last ones left in the schoolyard.
At the playground Amy chewed a blob of gum she had found under a bench. Dorothy opened a palm and the girl craned her head forward and spat out the gum, green and tooth-ridged. The bin was overstuffed with fast-food boxes, and Dot shook the gum off onto the streaky steel hub on the top. Sam was pushing Hannah on the smallest swing; the baby kicked her chubby legs and beamed.
‘My brother owns a car dealership,’ Sam said as the child swung back and forth in front of him. ‘If your husband is ever interested in trading in the people mover.’
‘Do you work for him as well?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Older brother?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you close?’
Sam smiled. He had dimples. ‘It’s very nice when siblings get on.’