down to the office. “Excuse me, there is a car blocking my car in and I can’t get out,” I splutter in a panic.
The bored attendant looks up form his gaming magazine. Man, this guy is such a dipshit.
“Hmm, go back into the hospital and have them page the number plates,” he replies flatly.
“What? I don’t have time for this. I have to be at the preschool to pick up my son in...” I glance at my watch. “Fifteen minutes.” Ah, shit.
“Sorry, sweetheart, there’s nothing I can do. We can call a tow truck, but they usually take over an hour to get here.”
“Fine,” I snap as I run back to my car. I hate this hellish car park. I’m going to have to ring Jenna to go get him. Bloody hell. I wanted to give her the afternoon off.
I’m not in the mood for this.
I take out my phone and dial Jenna’s number. My phone lights up and then goes dead.
My eyes widen in horror.
No.
Oh my God… oh my God. I begin to panic and I run to the cab bay, nearly hyperventilate. 4.55pm. The preschool closes in five minutes and nobody will be there to pick him up.
I get a vision of his little face waiting for me and my eyes tear up. The cab line is ten people long. “Please, let me go first,” I beg. “I have to get my son from preschool before five and someone has blocked my car in. This… this is an emergency,” I stammer. “Please.”
“Of course.” The kind people all smile.
“Thank you so much,” I splutter as I take my place at the front of the line. “Please hurry. Please hurry,” I whisper again and again.
The cab doesn’t arrive until 5.10 pm. “Where are all the cabs?” I panic, and the woman next to me rubs my arm sympathetically. “Have you rung them?” she asks.
“My phone is dead,” I whisper through my tears. Owen is there waiting and I can’t get to him. I feel sick knowing that he is the last little kid on his own waiting for me. How must he feel?
“Do you want to use mine?” she asks.
“Oh, please.” I take the phone from her and quickly Google the preschool’s number and dial them up. It rings and then I get a message.
Hello, you have reached
ABC Learning center.
We are currently closed right now.
Please call back during the operating hours o
f 8am to 5pm,
Monday to Friday.
My eyes widen in horror. “Oh my God, it’s the answering machine,”
I cry.
The lady in the line behind me speaks up. “Do you want me to ring my daughter to go and get him. Where is it?” she asks, concerned.
“This is a nightmare. They wouldn’t let her get him anyway.”
We wait and we wait, and I can’t even ring Jenna because I don’t know her number by heart. Why the hell didn’t I charge my phone properly?
A cab finally pulls into the parking lot and everyone sighs in relief. “Thank you so much for letting me go first,” I thank them as I climb in.
“ABC learning Centre… on… on Russel Street,” I stammer. “And please drive fast. I’m so late.”
The driver nods and pulls out into the traffic and I glance at my watch again. I’m now thirty-five minutes late.
I’m a terrible mother. How could I have let this happen?
After the longest ten minutes of my life, the cab pulls up at Owen’s kindergarten. “Wait here, please,” I tell the driver as run up the driveway just as the woman is locking the front door.
“Oh my… God,” I pant. “I’m so sorry. My car got blocked in and couldn’t get here.”
She looks at me, unimpressed. “He tried to call you but your phone was turned off. Owen’s father came and got him.”
My eyes widen in horror. “What?”
“We called his father and he came and got him. You know what time we close.” She looks at her watch. “Forty-five minutes ago.”
“Yes. I… I apologize about that...” I stammer. I turn and run back to the cab and shuffle through my purse to dig out Cameron’s address on a piece of paper. I hand it over. “Take me here, please.”
The car pulls up outside Cameron’s house and I gingerly climb out. “Just wait a moment, please. I need to see if he’s here,” I tell the driver.
I go over to the gates and push the doorbell. The security guard comes out. “Is Cameron home with Owen yet?” I ask.