Chapter 7 Reaching Out
"Sorry you had to wait so long love," he said, heaving open the bonnet of her car and poking his head inside. It was after 4 o'clock – Amy had essentially waited an entire day for the RACV to come and fix her car. So much for spending lots of glorious time in Mt Thomas. And the long wait had meant she had had plenty of time to chop and change her mind about going. Did she want to go? Did she want to see Alex? Did she want to see his Barbie doll? Did she want to see her old Boss? Did she want to be forced to see the type of person she had become? She sincerely hoped Evan had changed in the same way she had, because then she wouldn't feel so awful about what sort of person the last three years had turned her in to.
"So you going away for Christmas are ya love?" the mechanic asked. Amy was taken aback by his cheery nature – usually RACV guys are so rude and arrogant, she thought to herself.
She stood by the front door of her car and leant against it, her arms folded across her chest. She squinted in the sun as she answered. "Yeah," she replied just as politely. "Going back to the sticks. Meeting up with some old work friends," she explained.
He nodded. "Oh yeah, whereabouts?" he asked.
"Mt Thomas," she surrendered the name of her little hideaway.
"Oh Mt Thomas! Yeah I know the place!" he smiled, looking up at her, a spot of oil on his cheek. "My daughter did some of her prac at the hospital there. She's a doctor now," he boasted proudly.
"Oh yeah?" Amy knew keeping up the conversation with this stranger who was fixing her car would make the whole ordeal less annoying and awkward.
"Yeah…she's not there anymore though. She works at that big hospital on the edge of the city now…that new one they've built you know?" Amy nodded in response. "She's been flat out busy I tell ya love, we never see her anymore! But she loves it," he smiled, clearly proud of his doctor daughter. He went back to working on the car, his hands quickly becoming covered with grease as Amy watched, no clue what he was doing, but just hoping it would get her car started again, because really, she did want to go to Mt Thomas for Christmas.
"So what is it? What's the damage?" she winced, hoping it wouldn't hurt her hip pocket too much. She walked over and leaned into the bonnet with him, but being sure she didn't get any grease on her clean self.
"Oh nothing to worry about love," he smiled as he straightened up. "Just needs a new battery," he shuffled off to his bright yellow car and pulled a fresh one out of the back. "I'll have you on the road in 15 minutes," he assured her, winking. And with that he got to work installing the new battery as Amy turned over the engine every time he told her to 'give it a burl now love'.
Finally, just before 5:30pm, he left, and Amy got into the car again, put a cd into the player and shoved the key into the ignition. She held her breath as it burbled into life and didn't let it out until she was out of the carpark and on the road. She breathed a sigh of relief – she really was going home for Christmas.
But the traffic was heavy everywhere she looked. A trip that usually took just under 2 hours took well over three. Knowing they would be wondering where she was, she wanted to call, but knew that would only put her further behind schedule. So she continued on her journey, ploughing through the holiday traffic and reached the Imperial Hotel just after 9pm. She was flustered and embarrassed at her lateness, even though Evan did know she had had car trouble, and probably would be later than expected. She hoped he had explained this to the others. Still, even if he had, she was embarrassed to be the last to arrive.
So embarrassed that she fell into the public bar in a hurry, rather than the reserved, quiet way she thought she would, and the way she always had when she had lived in this town. So everybody noticed her when she entered. Quite a few heads turned from their drinks and stared at her. But not one of them was a cop. Where was everybody? She looked around, downhearted. Had she missed the gathering all together? Surely not!
"Amy!" came the voice from the behind the bar. It was Chris Riley of course. That woman was born in this pub, and she was going to die in it. Amy smiled and leant on the bar, her eyes question marks.
"Where is everybody Chris?" she asked, smiling and leaning over to hug her old friend.
"Oh Amy," Chris began, returning the hug. "They've all gone home for the night," she gave Amy a sympathetic look. "Some of them did start pretty early…" Chris was referring to Alex of course, but Amy could only guess. "But I think a few are left in the parlour, if you wanna go have a look." She cocked her head in the direction of the secluded nook of space that was the parlour, and Amy nodded and headed that way, determined to catch up with at least one of her old colleagues tonight, after she had travelled all this way.
As she approached, the room was silent, and she almost walked straight past, thinking no one was in there. But a cough and a shuffle told her there was in fact someone in the lonely parlour, and she opened the door a crack to see who it was. And there, sitting in the comfy leather armchair was Tom Croydon, sipping at a night cap.
"Boss," Amy began quietly. She half stepped into the room, leaning on the door, and smiling down at him. It had been a long time since she'd seen Tom Croydon and suddenly he was an old man. She was surprised. But in three years a lot can happen Amy thought to herself.
"Fox," Tom replied, shocked. He stood up to meet her and actually leant over to hug her in greeting. They were old comrades now, even if three years was a long time. He pulled away and looked her in the eye, a smile creeping into his expression. He was genuinely pleased to see her. "How are you?" he motioned for her to join him in the parlour and she did, taking a seat in the arm chair opposite him.
Tom remained perched on the edge of his chair though, as if ready to leave at any second. And he confirmed this when they began chatting. "I was just about to go home," he said sadly. Amy looked at her watch – it was late. Late for Tom Croydon. Late for Amy Fox. Late for everybody. She understood. They chatted for a few minutes and then promised to catch up the following day. They needed to see more of each other, to try to remember the way things used to be and how good they were. Amy stood at the door to the parlour and hugged Tom goodbye.
She didn't feel like moving on herself yet, and so sat back down, alone in the dimly lit parlour. She could smell the smell of the old leather and of the alcohol that sat at the bottom of Tom's glass. She could hear Chris stacking the chairs up in the bar and piling the glasses one on top of the other before taking them into the kitchen and putting them in the dishwasher. She'd well and truly missed the big gathering. Thank goodness for tomorrow. She sighed and rested back into the chair closing her eyes. She hadn't done much of anything but yet the day had exhausted her.
Footsteps wondered past the parlour door, and they heaved a big sigh as they went. It wasn't Chris, and so Amy got up and walked to the door, stepping just outside of it. "Alex!" she gasped, shocked to see him standing just metres from her. They had not spoken since his wedding. He turned around in a confused sort of way, as if he hadn't really known where he was going to go had Amy not called out.
"Amy…" he answered, looking wistfully at her from over by the stairs. "We thought you weren't coming," he smiled at her, but didn't make any move to get closer to where she stood.
Amy waved her hand in the air and rolled her eyes. "Car trouble," she dismissed the irritation quickly, just wanting to forget about what it took just to get her here. But she felt like talking. Everyone had gone home, and she'd missed the chance for the first catch up, but for some reason was bursting to just chat with someone. She hadn't really got to with Tom, but now here was Alex…and they probably needed to talk.
It was at that moment that Chris joined their awkward silence. "I'm closin' up guys…did you want to go? Or will you lock up for me?" she asked, looking like she was longing for her bed.
"We'll lock up for you Chris," Alex answered instantly, suddenly getting the same look on his face that Amy had. He needed someone to talk to, and Amy noticed immediately.
"Yeah Chris, you go to bed," Amy smiled at the publican and took the keys from her hands. Chris nodded appreciatively and headed upstairs.
"Want to sit outside?" Alex asked, his voice dreary and glum. Amy nodded silently, disbelieving of the person standing before her. Alex Kirby was never like this. What had happened to the larrikin? The joker? The immature twat? Much like herself, he was a changed person.
They wondered outside and sat down on the curb that edged the carpark. The night was cool and still, and the moonlight shone brightly down on the now quiet town through a cloudless black sky. They sat with a little distance between them, but somehow still, the words flowed easily, something Amy had not been expecting.
"How've you been?" Alex asked, staring at the ground and fiddling with a piece of grass he had picked from the curbside.
"Oh you know…same old same old," she chuckled falsely, knowing it was a huge lie, yet at the same time the story of her life. "How about you?" she sat staring at the ground also, letting the keys dangle from her fingertips.
He didn't come out with a tired old excuse like she had. There was no lying, no embarrassment, no pretending façade. Just raw feeling. It was the real side of Alex for once, the part no one really ever got to see. "I miss the old crew," he whispered, still staring at the gravel between his knees. He looked up and into her eyes a second later. "I miss you, I miss Tom, I miss Jonesy…I miss everybody. I miss the way things used to be. The way we used to have it all," the look of sadness on his face was indescribable.
"But you're married now!" Amy replied, taken aback. "You do have it all Alex. A beautiful wife, your own station, a senior sargeants position! What more could you want?" Say you want ME. Amy's brain clicked over a million beats per second as she stared right back into his eyes, returning the rawness.
"Would it be wrong to say I don't want any of that?" he seemed so ashamed and unsure. He stretched out his legs in front of him, and leant back onto his hands.
But she didn't have an answer. Was it wrong? Was it wrong to say she didn't like being in Homicide anymore? Wrong to say that she didn't like the person Homicide had turned her into? As she pondered this Alex shuffled closer all of a sudden and Amy held her breath, scared beyond reason about him being so close. "What about you? Anyone special?" he asked, clearly curious.
As always, Amy blew it off and chuckled quietly before heaving herself off the curb and heading back inside. "Who would want me?" she laughed as she said it, walking back into the hotel.
Alex watched her as she walked away from him, up the stairs and into a stale room where the night breeze didn't circulate enough. "I would," he called out, just loud enough for her to hear. Amy stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around, staring him down intensely. "You don't have anyone Amy?" he asked, concerned.
She bowed her head, ashamed. "No," she whispered, a lump threatening to rise in her throat.
Alex got up and walked over to meet her by the door. The keys still dangled from Amy's fingers and she fumbled with them, flustered. "Why not?" his questions were so simple and to the point, she just couldn't avoid answering them.
"I don't know," she admitted quietly, not able to meet his eyes. It was the truth at least. She really didn't know. But when he reached out and held her hand in his she did know. He made her look him in the eye. He was silently asking her to take the plunge, but she trembled and shook at the thought. They stood there for a minute before he spoke again.
"Amy?" he whispered.
"I don't want to do anything stupid Alex," she said at last. "Especially with you." She gave him a lingering look that spelt out all her fears about anything personal and turned and walked back into the hotel.