Page 53 of The Side Road
‘My life is not perfect. And being single isn’t something to aspire to.’
‘You’re single and happy. You keep telling me how happy you are. How great things are. Life is all sorted. Who needs a man? Or a marriage? We can do this all on our own.’
‘Those were not my exact words, and I’m not the poster girl for the single woman’s movement.’
‘Why the fuck not?’
‘Because I might want those things. I might want to get married…and have a family.’
‘Why ruin it? Men get a lot more out of marriage than women. They get a cook and a cleaner. But more than that, they get a captive listener, someone obligated to listen to all their crap, which is what they want most of all.’
‘You’re generalising.’
‘No. Married men earn more money and they live longer. Women have a shorter life expectancy if they get married.’
‘That’s alarming.’
‘I know. Sometimes I feel like I’m emotionally handcuffed.’
‘Do you want me to come over? I’ll bring my Allen key and uncuff you.’
‘No, but thank you for listening.’
After the call had ended, Mia thought, This will pass. Holly and Miles were not the benchmark couple for a successful relationship, but no relationship was perfect. They were expecting a baby, and it was a tumultuous, scary time. Upheaval was often the result of change. The fighting would pass. Questioning a relationship was normal. It was healthy. Occasionally, people looked at the person they were with and thought, god, how did I end up with them? Holly was having one of those days.
Unfortunately, the days had turned into weeks.
Mia changed into her pyjamas. She kissed Snood goodnight. Peering into the dog’s dark eyes, she said, ‘You were a good boy today, yes, you were. Job well done. But we have a busy day tomorrow. Lunch! Can you believe it? What have we got ourselves into? A lunch date – and I volunteered to cook. And he’s coming to our house.’
Snood burrowed his face into her neck.
‘You’re right, he’s very nice.’ She stroked the dog’s velvety ears. ‘But we’re different. He’s a country boy who doesn’t want to be here and I’m a city girl who never wants to leave.’
She let go of the dog’s face. He pawed her leg and rolled onto his side; one last pat before bed. She obliged, scratching his stomach.
‘Differences can also be a good thing,’ Mia said. Like a base yarn combined with a contrasting yarn. A strong, bulky fibre mixed with a finer, softer wool, like silk blended with alpaca. The result would be a durable textile with softnessand added warmth. They might make this work. She could talk herself into this.
She turned to Snood. ‘What do we really know about him?’
The dog followed her into the bedroom.
‘He was born in Eagle Nest. A mechanic, he worked in the Kimberley, running motorbike tours. His wife died a few years ago – I heard it was cancer – and now his mother-in-law has embezzled his savings. He owns one of the nicest cars I’ve ever seen. It’s also very clean. From what I can tell, he’s a good parent. Apparently, he can dance – that was a surprise. His Italian suit must have cost thousands.’ She turned to the dog. ‘It doesn’t quite add up, does it?’ Tash had told her he used to compete.
Mia opened the internet browser on her phone and entered his name.
Photos appeared. Mostly headshots. When she scrolled down, dozens of images filled her screen.
‘What the…’
Oliver, standing beside a bike or on the podium or in the pits, wearing leathers covered in sponsorship logos. There were other pictures of him with women. Many women. Women wearing tight jeans and T-shirts, his arm around their waist, some were kissing his cheek. There were women in the VIP section of the racetrack. Women in the pits after the race, before the race, and cheering him on during the competition. Women wearing evening gowns at social events, holding his hand. Hip to hip, fixing his hair. Gazing adoringly at him.
‘My god.’
The man was famous. Or he used to be famous. In the photos, he looked younger. With his dark, curly hair andboyish good looks, he was still captivatingly handsome. It was good to see he had maintained his athletic physique.
She reviewed the details of his racing history. Winning the under-sixteen championship had earned him a place on an international training squad. He raced in Asia, Japan, the US, and Europe, the centre of international racing. He had notched up two wins and stood on the race podium eight times.
She looked at Snood. ‘Eight times!’
