'What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Just call up her family? 'Oy, hi - Caroline Dawson here – my son, your daughter – yes well, so sorry.'

She leaned her elbow and cradled her head against the car door as she sped home. The fuel light blinked on.

'Shit. Right.'

She'd been intent on arrival on the way to Oxford that she'd delayed stopping. Now it was late, dark, and unavoidable. She pulled off the M40 and into the station. She fueled up and pulled into spot at the café attached. She piled out of the car, crooked her purse in her elbow and clicked the alarm. 'Coffee. Tea. Whatever.'

She ordered an earl grey and made her way to a plastic table near the windows. Her tea was scalding and she sat expressionless waiting for it to cool. No one surrounded her at half seven on a Sunday at a random motor stop. The quiet was disconcerting, leaving her alone with the events of the past day, weeks, months. She worried at a napkin in her lap and listened to the buzz of the fluorescent lights.

Cars pulled in and out. People came through and left. Caroline sat and mused, tears at one moment and smiles at the next. It had been 20 minutes before she noticed her tea, half-drunk, had gone cold. "Right then." She stood, collected her purse and herself and made her way back to the Jeep.

"Oh. Wow." Gillian's eyebrows raised and she made a face at Robbie, pulled the phone away and mouthed 'holy shit.'

"Caroline – I – I'm sorry."

"Well yeah. Yeah. That's the whole of it. And what I'm really at loose ends about is that the fuck is supposed to happen next?"

"And you think I'm the go-to for this sort of thing?" Gillian turned back to the sink and the dishes, phone crooked at her shoulder.

"No. I think you're the 'I have no idea what the hell is going on, I can't do worse than Gillian's advice' go-to."

"Ah. Well then. Pressure's off." Gillian looked at the window and the reflection in the winter dark. "Honestly this 'innit exactly in my wheelhouse, you know. But I 'spose I'd leave it up to William. Not that you can't, you know, push him here 'n there. But honestly Caroline I think you keep your nose out of it." She looked over to Alan and Celia nodding off on the couch. "Not that you'll take my third rate advice."

"Gillian I wouldn't have bothered to call if I considered your advice third rate." Caroline watched the cars roll by in the southbound lane, headlights fracturing on the windshield.

"Mmmm. OK. Anyway. Flora's good. Your mum's good but her stomach's bothering her."

Caroline frowned. "It's been bothering her. She's an appointment on Monday to have it all checked."

"Good then."

"Yes. Well."

The conversation stalled out and Caroline was too exhausted to keep it moving.

"You alright, then?" Gillian had finished the dishes and was drying her hands. She stepped over to the kitchen table and sat, forefingers and thumb rubbing against her forehead.

"I'm good. I'm fine. Yeah. Not really sure about things right now."

"OK." Gillian wasn't sure what to say. Maybe she didn't need to say anything. Sometimes Caroline just needed to talk at someone, rather than with someone.

"Thanks. Gillian. Really. I think I just needed to talk."

"Sure."

"Thanks for keeping Flora tonight." Caroline placed a smile on her face.

"Yeah. Yeah. All good here. She and 'Lam are really starting to strike it up."

"Mmm. That's got to be a handful." Caroline gave a genuine smile.

The conversation lagged again, but Caroline appreciated having Gillian on the other end of the line. Realized how she'd come to count on it, actually.

"Thanks, then, Gillian."

"Ya. Sure. And Caroline – really, that's a rough patch there with William. Sorry."

"Yep." Caroline nodded. "Thanks."

"Yeah. Have a good trip home."

"Will-do. Bye bye."

"Ta."

Caroline barreled on toward home, leaving behind something broken and headed onward toward more of the same.