Page 7 of Night and Day
Mia shook her head, pink blotches appearing on her cheeks. Was she about to cry? Instead of tears, he heard a sharp intake of breath as she stared back at him, shaking her head.
“That’s okay,” Izzy said quickly, guiding her towards the doors. As they passed the reception desk, the woman behind it nodded at Mia.
Izzy led her to his car – an old, silver Toyota Corolla that looked terrible but passed its WOF with relative ease year after year. He’d never contemplated upgrading. Well, until this very moment.
“The A.C. isn’t great, but it kind of works if we keep the back windows cracked. Hope that’s okay?” He opened the passenger side door. “You can put the guitar on the backseat.”
She stumbled backwards, clutching the instrument. “Where are we going? I don’t mean to be rude, but I called you because I need to borrow some money. I’m good for it, I promise.”
Izzy froze, dumbfounded. “So, I give you money and then what?”
She swallowed. “Then you can go home. I’m so sorry you had to drive all the way here. I’ll pay you back with interest, of course. Is twenty percent acceptable?”
Izzy blinked. He could barely follow the woman’s logic. “Twenty percent? What am I, a loan shark? I came to pick you up, so you’d have somewhere to stay and I can help sort you out.”
Mia’s jaw dropped as she studied his face. “But you don’t know me. I couldn’t ask you—”
“I’m offering. Take it or leave it.” He yanked open the car door, gesturing with his head. The constant traffic noise from the street behind them was giving him a headache, and this woman’s pointless resistance to his help was making it worse. “Let’s just get out of here. If you don’t like my house, we’ll book you into a hotel. How’s that?”
Mia flushed pink. “No! I didn’t mean... You have a house?”
Izzy lifted a shoulder. “Yeah. I look like I sleep under a bridge but—”
“No! I meant... a house, not an apartment? I don’t know anyone my age who lives in an actual house. Only wealthy people or families out in the countryside.”
“It’s really not that unusual around here. And it’s nothing flash either, so please adjust your expectations.” He tried to smile to lighten the mood, thinking of how badly the house needed maintenance.
“Okay.” She nodded to herself, still staring at the car. “I suppose it would solve one of my problems right now, if you really don’t mind.”
“I really don’t mind,” Izzy confirmed, still holding the door and his breath. He felt like he was trying to catch a runaway budgie, coaxing it closer until the cage came down. When she finally lowered herself into the seat and wiggled her guitar onto the backseat, he slammed the door, trapping her. A confusing mix of shame and excitement coursed through him as he circled the vehicle to the driver’s side.
Once behind the wheel, he risked another glance at the peculiar woman. Sunk into the fluffy seat cover he’d bought to extend the life of the furnishing, she looked even more like a fairy –a lightweight, magical creature he’d inadvertently captured. She tucked her hands under her bare thighs, holding herself rigid, as if to avoid relaxing against the seat. Was she afraid of him? He might have been twice her size, but he hadn’t lured her into his car. She’d called him. Technically, they were work colleagues, although he had to admit, working remotely across the oceans didn’t facilitate much closeness.
They’d only exchanged a few emails discussing a job he suspected neither of them had any genuine interest in. He’d noticed the careful way she worded her feedback, so it neither offended nor expressed particular excitement for his creative choices. Facing a roadblock, she’d quickly chosen the fastest way forward to make sure they met the deadline. So efficient and flawless she could have passed for a very sophisticated bot.
Looking at her now, Izzy felt ashamed for his initial assessment. Mia was definitely human. A distressed human. As he navigated through the city centre towards the motorway ramp, her body remained stiff, her unblinking eyes staring out the window, recording every landmark like she was expecting to be thrown out of the vehicle at any moment and having to find her way back.
Izzy racked his brain for the right words. He should have known how to deal with distress. How did he work on all those suicide prevention videos without absorbing any actionable knowledge? What did B.R.A.V.E. stand for? Was B for being there, or breathing? Izzy filled his lungs, hoping oxygen would somehow unlock the rest. In truth, he’d stopped really listening years ago. Besides, this woman wasn’t necessarily thinking of ending her life.
“Is it a long drive?” she asked as he accelerated down the motorway ramp.
“Ninety minutes, if we’re lucky.”
“Lucky, how?”
“If we don’t hit traffic. I consider that very lucky in Auckland. Especially at this time of day.”
He glanced at his wristwatch. 5.30pm. This was not a lucky time. Mia nodded, but still wouldn’t lean back against the seat. Instead, she folded her legs against her chest, locking her arms around them like an Olympic diver somersaulting through the air. Maybe she felt she was in free-fall. How long could she hold on like that before her arms cramped?
“You must be quite shaken,” Izzy said.
“Uh-huh.” It was but a whisper.
“So, what happened? How did you lose your stuff?”
Mia’s breathing turned into a shallow wheeze and she turned away from him, hiding her face from view.
Izzy scanned the view outside, not sure what to do. They were on the motorway with nowhere to stop. “Are you okay? Please, calm down. Just breathe.”
