glanced at her and she suddenly realised she was staring. She sent him a buck-up smile and turned back to the clerk, doing her best to block out all the background noise. ‘I’m driving across the Nullarbor Plain. I need a car that can go the distance.’
‘I understand the reasons you booked a four-wheel drive, Mrs Laverty, but we just don’t have any available.’
Brilliant.
She didn’t bother correcting him on the Mrs. People made that assumption all the time.
She lifted her chin, preparing for a fight. ‘I have a lot of luggage to fit into the car.’ Another reason she’d chosen a four-wheel drive.
‘Which is why we’ve upgraded you.’
Was that what they called it? She folded her arms. She’d chosen the car she had because of its safety and reliability rating. As far as fuel efficiency went it was one of the best too. It was the perfect car to take them across the country.
‘We’ve upgraded you to a late model station wagon.’
‘Does it have four-wheel drive?’
‘No, ma’am.’
Quinn closed her eyes briefly, but all that did was underscore the scent of desperation and outrage in the air.
‘I want to speak to the manager,’ the man beside her clipped out.
‘But, sir—’
‘Now!’
She drew in a breath and opened her eyes. ‘I need a four-wheel drive. The fuel consumption on that wagon will be outrageous and as I’ll be travelling to New South Wales in it that’s an awful lot of fuel.’ She’d be driving the car for forty hours. Probably more. ‘And, I might add, with none of the benefits the four-wheel drive offers.’
Driving suddenly seemed like the stupidest idea a woman had ever had. She lifted her chin another notch. ‘Thank you, but I don’t want an upgrade. I want the car I originally booked.’
The clerk scratched his nose and shuffled his feet, staring everywhere but at her. ‘The thing is, ma’am, with the plane strike, you understand there just aren’t any four-wheel drives currently available.’
‘But I booked this over a month ago!’
‘I understand and I do apologise. We won’t be charging you for the upgrade. In fact, we’ll be offering you a discount and a credit voucher.’
That was something at least. Quinn couldn’t afford to stray too far from the budget she’d set herself.
‘And the crux of the matter is...’ the clerk leaned confidentially across the counter ‘...there isn’t anything else available.’ He gestured to the crowded room behind Quinn. ‘If you don’t want the station wagon we’ll have plenty of other takers who will.’
She glanced back behind her too and grimaced.
‘I can’t guarantee when a four-wheel drive vehicle will become available.’
She bit back a sigh. ‘We’ll take it.’ She didn’t have any other option. They’d sold up practically everything they owned. The lease on their house had run out and new tenants were expected within the next few days. Their lives no longer belonged here in Perth. Besides, she’d made a booking at a caravan park in Merredin for this afternoon. She didn’t want to lose her booking fee on that as well.
‘Excellent. I just need you to sign here and here.’
Quinn signed and then followed the clerk out through a side door. She made sure both boys had their backpacks—they’d refused to leave them with the rest of the luggage back at the house.
‘Keep the paperwork on you. You’ll need it for the Newcastle office. And if you’ll just wait here the car will be brought around in a jiffy.’
‘Thank you.’
The relative quiet out here after the cacophony in the office was bliss.
Robbie sat on a nearby bench and swung his feet. Chase immediately knelt on the ground beside the bench and ‘broom-broomed’ his toy car around.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Fairhall, I wish I could help you. I have your card so if something comes up I’ll let you know immediately.’
Fairhall? That was it! She’d known she’d seen him before. She turned to confirm it anyway. Uh huh, her neighbour at the service counter had been none other than Aidan Fairhall, up-and-coming politician. He’d been travelling the country canvassing for support. He had hers.
He had a nice on-air manner too. No doubt it was all orchestrated as these things were, but he came across as intelligent and polite.
Polite shouldn’t be overrated. In her opinion there should be more of it. Especially in politics.
She watched him slump onto a neighbouring bench as the man with the manager badge pinned to his shirt strode away. His shoulders drooped and he dropped his head to his hands. He raked his hands through his hair and then suddenly froze. He glanced up at her—a long sidelong look from beneath his hand—and she swallowed, realising she’d been caught out staring at him twice now.
He straightened. Her heart did a crazy little thump-thump. She swallowed and shrugged. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m sorry.’
He smiled, but she sensed the strain behind it. ‘It looks as if you’ve had more luck.’
Her lips twisted. ‘Considering I booked this car over a month ago...’
He let out a breath, nodded. ‘It’d be very poor form if they cancelled it on you at this late date.’
‘But they’re not giving us the car we wanted,’ Robbie piped up.
She should’ve known he’d been listening. His dreamy expression lulled her every single time. ‘But it’s a better one,’ she said, because she didn’t want him to worry. Robbie had taken to worrying about everything.
‘We’re moving house,’ Chase declared, glancing up from his car. ‘All the way across the world!’
‘Country,’ she corrected.
Chase stared at her and then nodded. ‘Country,’ he repeated. ‘Can we move to the moon?’
‘Not this week.’ She grinned. Robbie and Chase—her darling boys—they made it all worthwhile.
‘It sounds exciting,’ Mr Fairhall said. He glanced at Robbie. ‘And if you’re in an even better car now that probably means your trip is going to be lucky too.’
She liked him then. Amid his own troubles he found the time to be nice to a couple of young boys—and not just nice but reassuring. If he hadn’t already won her vote he’d have had it now.
‘The plane strike seems to be turning the country on its head. I hope it ends soon so you can be where you need to be.’
He
