* * *
STEPH
Still no contactwith Cal after several weeks. It’s time to try a different tactic. Searching my friends list on social media, I stop at Dean’s name. If I can even call him a friend after the photograph fiasco.
Thinking of him watching us still makes my skin crawl as icy fingers with sharp cold nails scrape over my skin. The logo ‘Dean’s Auto’s’ sits as a header on his profile. I copy the address and make my way over on my lunch break.
Parking the car in his yard in front of an MOT testing sign, I get out with unsteady legs. The September sun shines on my face and I squint my eyes as a shadow appears.
“Steph.” Dean’s face comes into view as the sun fades behind a cloud.
I jump at the sound of a clatter coming from the garage. Gosh, I’m a bag of nerves. My hand tightens around the strap of my bag. “I need to get hold of Cal.”
“He moved to Oz.” He rubs his hands on his overalls.
“I know that, or I wouldn’t be here, would I?” Another clatter makes me jump.
“It’s okay, it’s just the guys working. Come into the office.” He leads me to a small room on the side of the garage with a desk and computer. “I’ll get his mobile number for you.”
Hope blossoms in my chest and I relax a little.
He pulls his mobile from his pocket. “I’m sorry about all that business with Liz and the photo’s.”
I stick out my chin and tap my foot. The sooner I can leave, the better.
“Do you want to add it to your phone?”
“Yes, but can you call him? He might answer if he knows it’s you. I think it’s the least you can do for me, don’t you?”
He nods and presses the green button at the side of his name. Dean holds the handset to his ear, then flinches his head back to look at the screen. “That’s odd.” He taps it again.
“What is it?”
“There’s no dial tone.”
I check the numbers. It’s his old number. “Have you not spoken to him since he moved to Australia?”
“No, why would I? He’s not exactly gonna call to say he’s coming round for a beer, is he? When he moved there before, I didn’t hear from him again until he moved back. You know what he’s like.”
“Do you know how I can contact him? An address, anything?”
“I ain’t a clue. His mum will know. She’ll be in touch with him and the girls.”
Inhaling a breath, I walk to the car with tears prickling my eyes. I hope his mother will help me this time.
Back at work, I hand write a letter. If his mum is unwilling to give me his new number still, she can pass on a letter at least.
The rose bushes on her front lawn have filled out since I was here last, like my middle area, although I still don’t look pregnant—just fatter.
I knock on the door and wait with bated breath. She answers with a frown. “Stephanie. I told you he’s in Australia.”
“I know. Did you ask him to call me?” I twist the strap on my bag as I shuffle on my feet.”
“I can’t make him call you if he doesn’t want to. He’s doing what’s best for him and his family. I think you should do the same.” She goes to close the door but I place my hand on the glass.
“Please. It’s important. Can you pass on this letter? He’s going to want to read it.”
She takes the letter from me and looks at the white envelope with Cal written on the front. “What is it, dear?”