He shook his head. “Dylan’s welcome to you. Come on,” he said, shutting the last equipment door. “Let’s blow this joint.”
He drove the appliance back to the station, thinking about the conversation with Dylan last night, and got a wave from a busload of school kids they were parked next to at an intersection.
“Turn on your siren!” yelled one boy, standing at a window looking bug-eyed at them. Caleb flicked on the flashing lights for a second to give the kid a thrill and they waved as the lights turned green and they took off, and Caleb got back to the serious business of chewing over that convo with Dylan again.
Dylan hadn’t mentioned anything about talking to Richo, true, but then he had been a tad distracted. Dylan must have checked his phone at least a dozen times. Boy, he had it bad for this Hannie chick. Although Caleb would bet the sex was nowhere near as good as what he and Ava shared. Talk about combustible.
Not that he could tell anyone.
The sex was as great as ever – bloody brilliant, in fact – and Ava had welcomed him back to her bed, but it was almost like their conversation the night of the Ashton Show had never happened. If he’d thought she’d loosen up, he’d been wrong. Instead, she’d gone back to being the way she’d always been, expecting him to fall in likewise.
And that wasn’t what he’d signed back on for. And while he didn’t know what was holding her back, he sensed it was yielding, that he was even back in the picture at all. And it was time to press her again.
And one day soon he might even get to take her out to the local pub for dinner, instead of eating in or getting in takeaway, so that nobody saw them out together and put two and two together. One day, they might go visit a winery or three, there were so many good ones he’d heard about in the hills that did tasting platters and wines, and then go to the fancy cheese shop in Hahndorf and buy some cheeses to go with the wine. Like normal people who didn’t have to skulk around in the shadows did.
One day, it’d be nice to take her out and show her off and say, yeah, this is my woman.
“Oi! Caleb!”
“What?”
“Where the hell were you? Mars?” Richo said. “It’s like trying to talk to a bloody statue.”
“I was thinking,” he growled. “You ought to try it some time. So what did you want?”
“Just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink later tonight, after this art thing?”
“It’s an exhibition, not a ‘thing’.”
“Ooh, touchy. So, you want to go out after this”– he put on a hoity toity voice–“‘ex-hi-bi-ti-on’ then?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve already got plans that don’t include you.”
“Who do they include?”
He looked over at his crew mate. “None of your damned business.”
“So it’s a woman then.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it is, actually.”
Richo sat up straighter in his seat, clearly thinking he was on a winner and determined to dig deeper. “And do I know her?”
“You do, as a matter of fact. It’s Mum,” he lied, “and she’s cooking a lamb roast.” At least that bit wasn’t exactly a lie, because roast lamb was Dad’s favourite and she could well have been.
Richo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m not really sure I believe you.”
Caleb indicated and made sure the station forecourt was clear before he did a bit sweeping arc with the appliance, before then reversing in to the station, and then he turned to his mate, smiled sweetly and said, “I’m not really sure I care.”
The night was as hot as the day, the city stuck in the grip of a heatwave that didn’t want to let go, and even at near six pm, the temperature was hovering in the high thirties.
The four fireys uniformed up and travelled to the gallery together in one of the appliances. EJ’s Gallery was situated in an old stone building that started life as the local school, the big, high ceilinged rooms and wide corridors lending themselves to all kinds of art installations and exhibitions, although admittedly the only time Caleb had been inside was that time the toaster had caught fire in the kitchen.
For the next month though, Ava’s art works were taking pride of place, and he walked in to see the walls hung with her pictures, the colours popping against the neutral backdrop, and Caleb felt a burst of pride. Positioned around her studio, the assembled collection had looked fantastic. Here, skilfully arranged around the gallery walls, the collection was even more stunning, with already a large crowd in attendance, circulating and admiring the works, the number growing by the minute. And all he wanted to do was find Ava and pull her into his arms and tell her how proud of her he was. And, maybe, if tonight went the way he planned, he might be able to.
“Thank god for air conditioning,” Richo said beside him, tugging at his collar, and Caleb agreed, the air conditioners thankfully belting out cool air so walking inside had felt like stepping from a furnace to a fridge and they didn’t have to feel like dicks in their uniforms when everyone else was wearing short sleeves or strapless cocktail dresses.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to look for Ava. She surprised him by finding him. They’d only been there five minutes and she singled him out. “The tap in the kitchen is stuck. You don’t think you could give me a hand with that, do you?”
Richo was just about to step forward when Caleb stopped him with a hand to his chest. “That’s okay, buddy,
