The babies are fed and changed, and Freyja’s eyes are starting to droop when Ethan’s mum, Stella, and Caroline, who have had their heads together in intense discussion for the last twenty minutes, stand and announce it’s time for everyone to leave.
Caroline and Ansel are staying with Will and Freyja, Diana is going home, and everyone else is heading back up the hill to Harry and Stella’s for the night.
“I’ll send down some dinner, Caroline, so you don’t have to cook. We’ll see you for brunch in the morning,” Stella says as she herds us all out the door, collecting Lulu’s daughter, who iscurled up with the pet kangaroo, singing nursery rhymes in a sweet, vaguely Scottish accent, on the way.
I’m not sure who’s more relieved, the exhausted new parents or Ethan, who’s been looking more and more tense as the afternoon progressed. There’s another long round of kisses, I love yous and congratulations before we’re all gathered around the vehicles.
“I need to let Sadie get back to Sydney with the car. Could one of you give me a lift back tomorrow?” Ethan asks. There’s a beat of silence and a flurry of furtive looks exchanged before they all start talking at once.
“Oh, we would, only we’re staying till next week.”
“I’m sorry, we’re actually not going home for a few days.”
“Your father and I were planning on staying the week.”
“Sorry, man. We’re heading to Bowral for a mini break, not going back to Sydney till next week.”
I don’t know who said what, but the upshot is, that there’s no lift back for Ethan tomorrow. And whilst everyone apologised, there’s no evidence of genuine regret on any of the faces looking faux innocently back at us. It seems this is a very managing kind of family. Ethan’s jaw is so tight I’m worried he might crack a tooth.
His eyes have settled enough for him to drive, so I hand over the keys and hop into the passenger seat. Only at the gate, when everyone else turns right up the hill, we turn left.
“Are we not going to your parents’ place?”
“No. I’ll book us a couple of rooms at the B & B in town.” His mouth barely moves as he answers.
I study Ethan’s profile. A muscle in his cheek is twitching, his nostrils are flaring, and his eyes are glued to the road. No doubt he expected me to be on my way by now. And clearly, he hasn’t taken kindly to being managed. Or perhaps he feelsuncomfortable with me in his family space. Which wouldn’t be unreasonable given how things stand between us.
It dawns on me that there are a lot of people staying at the Carter’s tonight. From the brief glimpse I got, it looked like a big house, but perhaps there’s not enough room for me.
“You don’t have to do that. I can, umm, is there a train? I can get a train home, and you can stay at your parents’ place.”
“I wouldn’t be staying at their place anyway, and there’s only one train a day. We’ve missed it. I checked. We’ll stay tonight and drive back tomorrow. I’m sorry this has inconvenienced you so much. I wasn’t thinking straight when Will called.”
“It wasn’t an inconvenience. I was happy to do it. You couldn’t miss the birth of your niece and nephew.”
The conversation is cut off as we pull into the main street of town. It’s charming in a turn-of-the-century way common to so many Australian country towns. One end of the street is dominated by a big old-fashioned pub with a wraparound verandah. At the other end, separated from the pub by a dozen or so cute little shops, is a rambling country house with a B & B sign swinging gently in the last moments of late afternoon sun.
A cheerful and efficient woman checks us in, and if Ethan wasn’t so tense, I’d make a joke about there only being one room with one bed like in the movies, but it’s clear that kind of joke wouldn’t be appreciated right now.
“Two rooms. Up the stairs and to the left,” she says. “Breakfast is between seven and nine in the dining room just through those doors. Enjoy your stay.” She points to French doors on our right, open to show several tables of white linen and silverware in front of picture windows and a view of a lush, overgrown cottage garden. Handing over two large, old-fashioned brass keys, she disappears into the tiny cubicle-like office behind the desk.
“I have a few emails to send. How about we meet here at six to grab some dinner from the pub?” Ethan suggests.
“Sounds good,” I agree before he disappears into his room.
At a loose end, I decide to wander down the street and check out the shops. Maybe find somewhere to get a toothbrush, some deodorant and, if I’m really lucky, a pair of knickers.
It’s late afternoon, and most of the shops are starting to pack up. There’s a supermarket still open, though, and I’m able to grab the essentials, including a toothbrush and deodorant for Ethan. They even have a five pack of cotton undies. They’re nothing glamorous, but at least they’ll be clean.
It’s not until I’m paying for my purchases that it occurs to me I could’ve taken the car and Ethan could’ve caught the train back tomorrow. Odd neither of us thought of that.
I’m coming out of the shop when Freyja’s friend Diana walks past.
I hold up my bag of goodies. “Just getting a couple of essentials,” I say by way of explanation when she stops.
“Stella didn’t have any spares?” Of course she’d assume I’m staying at the Carters’ house.
“Oh. No. We’re … I’m staying in town. At the B & B.” I wave vaguely in the cottage’s direction.
