The recording cut off. Time expired. He played the second voicemail. Scarlett.
“Dad? Georgia is, like,reallysad about the rat. She’s getting a complex, I think. Nan says not to worry, but she’s just sitting on the bed sort of hugging herself and looking at the other rats. Did you find out about getting another one? Maybe Nan and I could go get it with Georgia, and she could, like, pick it out. Anyway. Call me and tell me, OK?”
Third voicemail.
“Mr. Mahuta, this is Skylar Fairburn, Georgia’s teacher. I’m responding to your email. You’re all good, rat-replacement-wise. I’ll take care of it. If you have questions, give me a call back. Otherwise, I’ll see Georgia tomorrow.”
The tone was brisk. It wasn’t the tone. It was thevoice.It was low. Husky. A little breathy. If you ignored the dead-rat subject matter, you could’ve been listening to one of those sexual-tension scenes, the kind that told you there was going to be sex in this film.
I definitely need rat advice,he told himself, and sat on the bench in the changing room to ring her back.
“Hello?” Yes, that was her. Low. Husky. Breathy. All that.
She’s probably forty-five years old,he told himself. Also, he clearly needed to get laid more. “Yeh,” he said. “Zane Mahuta here. About the rat. Dead rat, I mean.” Oh, he was smooth.
“Yes,” she said. “I was sorry to hear that. No worries, it happens. Rats only live two to four years. Was Georgia very upset?”
“Well, yeh. Crying and so forth. I put it in the bin, but she wants me to take it out again and have a tangi for it. Kids, eh. Also, the other rats ate it a bit, so you may hear about that. Could be a discussion topic.”
“Oh, dear.” She was laughing a little, and that laugh sounded choice. “Yes, they do that. They eat and even bury their dead pack members so they don’t draw predators. It’sactually a pretty interesting behavior, and that’s part of having classroom pets, giving kids the opportunity to talk about these things in a lower-stakes way.”
“Not sure Georgia thinks of it as lower-stakes,” he said. “Gladys was apparently a family member. Didn’t realize I’d adopted three more kids, but there you are. I now have ratty children. She may be up all night watching the survivors for signs of disease.”
She was laughing again. It was pretty flattering. “Well, I’ll have a look at them tomorrow, and I’ll have a chat with Georgia, too. I don’t suppose you’ll be the one bringing her.”
“No. My grandmother.”
“Ah. Maureen.”
“Yeh. I’d bring her myself, but?—”
“No worries,” she said. “Everybody has obligations. Well, nice to virtually meet you, Mr. Mahuta. And good luck with Georgia tonight.”
She rang off. Pity he couldn’ttake the kids in tomorrow and see if the face matched the voice. On the other hand, she probablywasforty-five. Wearing a cardigan with bobbles, with reading glasses on a beaded chain. He’d already had one disappointment this weekend. Losing to the Crusaders never felt good.
He needed a girlfriend, was what. One who wasn’t put off by a man with three kids, one of whom would stare balefully at any new woman and send out clear “we don’t need you” vibes. Scarlett did have a way of torpedoing his love life. Not to mention that his house held not only three children and two rats, but also one grandmother. And that he had to be in bed by ten.
A girlfriend who didn’t ask much, then. If such a person existed.
There was a reason he met most of his female companionship in bars.
2
EIGHT LONG MINUTES
“Absolutely not,” Skylar said.
“Absolutelyyes,”Jessica said, taking another bite of salad. “When was the last time you had fun?”
“I’m having fun right now,” Skylar said. “I’m eating lunch with you. What more could a woman wish for?”
Jessica gave her the stare she used on the more trying sort of Year Five boy. “If this is your barometer, you need a new measuring stick.”
“Mixed metaphor.”
“I don’t care. It’s one evening. One simple Fridayevening. What would you be missing out to do it?”
“Terrific Thursday. Pizza and TV.”
