6. The Mechanic

Nathan Walker bounded down the stairs and grabbed a set of keys from the table in the hall. He was a tall, gangly man in his late twenties, with pale, oil-stained skin, grey eyes, and short, wavy light brown hair. As his hand reached out for the front door, preparing to fling it open and head out into the world beyond, he glanced towards the clock. It was about six minutes past seven. The tram was scheduled to arrive at sixteen minutes past, and the tram stop was only across the street from his mother's house. So Nathan was in no rush. He stopped, and tilted his head to one side, listening for the sound of his mother busying herself in the kitchen. She was busy tidying up after breakfast.

“Bye, mum! I'm off to work!” he called out, as he leaned into the lounge and looked towards the kitchen door. The sounds of his mother's industry ceased and, after a brief pause, her head appeared around the kitchen door.

“Have a good day, Nathan!” she replied with a smile.

Nathan smiled back, but did not move. He knew what was coming next. His mother's forehead creased briefly, as if she was struggling to pin down a thought that was travelling briskly across her mind. Her eyes widened as she caught up with the thought and remembered what else she needed to say.

“You haven't forgotten that I'm being taken out to dinner tonight?” she asked, still frowning. “I did tell you, didn't I?”

“Yes, mum, you did tell me,” Nathan replied with a wry smile. “And no, mum, I hadn't forgotten.”

Nathan sighed wearily. On the whole, he was happy that his mother was going out dating. She had spent too much time cooped up indoors since his father had... left them... and it would undoubtedly do her some good to get out now and again. But she was too old to be strutting around like a twenty-one year old.

His mother frowned as she emerged fully from the kitchen, resting her hand on the door handle. She was a mature woman in her early fifties, considerably shorter than him and with skin a shade darker, but with the same grey eyes, and hair that had almost completely turned grey but was once the same colour as her son's.

“You will be OK to sort out your own dinner, won't you?” she asked, a concerned look on her face. “I mean, I could get something out of the freezer for you and leave it in the oven...” she suggested helpfully.

Nathan sighed. Since being left on her own, his mother had directed most of her energy towards looking after him, and she did dote on him rather a lot. At times, this made him more than a little uncomfortable. He could sense that this was going to be one of those times.

“Mum, I'm twenty-seven,” he replied indignantly. “I can look after myself. You don't have to worry about me.”

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A warm smile returned to his mother's face. “I know,” she replied in a reassuring tone. “I just don't want you to starve.”

Nathan shook his head wearily. There she goes again...

“I told you, don't worry about me,” he admonished her playfully. “I'm going out with the guys from work tonight. Didn't I tell you?”

“Oh, that's right,” his mother replied, remembering their conversation from earlier in the week. “You were going to try that new place on the edge of town, weren't you?”

“That's right,” Nathan replied with an enthusiastic nod. “The Wolf and Dog. It's only been open for a month or so, but everybody's been saying how good it is.”

“Well, don't wait up for me!” his mother exclaimed with a laugh as she turned to head back into the kitchen. “This gentleman I'm meeting might be rich and ready to whisk me off somewhere exotic for the weekend!”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, mum,” he replied sarcastically, but with a hint of trepidation. Although he'd never tell his mother, Nathan was a little apprehensive about her potentially bringing another man into their lives. He had got rather used to it being just the two of them.

His mother paused and turned her head to stick her tongue out at him. “You never know, it might happen one day,” she retorted with a giggle. Nathan sighed with exasperation, and looked down at the floor, not wanting to meet her gaze. He knew what was coming next.

“Tell you what, if you don't wait up for me, I won't wait up for you,” she continued conspiratorially. “After all, you might meet someone nice and go somewhere romantic...”

Nathan nodded gloomily. His mother was always going on about how he could meet a nice girl at work, down the shops, in the pub, anywhere. And in the past, he had. But since Juliana... well, he just hadn't felt like actually going and meeting girls.

He glanced up at his mother, who was still standing at the kitchen door, her hand poised on the door handle. “Well, I'll try to be quiet and not wake you when I get in,” he replied uneasily, before turning and heading back into the hall. He placed his hand on the door handle, ready to fling it open and stride purposefully out of the house when he stopped, sensing a subtle change in his mother's demeanour. He sighed with a mix of exasperation and puzzlement, and stepped back into the lounge. The frown had returned to his mother's face, as if she was struggling to remember some important detail. He glared at her and tilted his head meaningfully toward the clock. It was now twelve minutes past seven.

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, making Nathan jump. “Don't forget to buy some flowers for your father.”

Nathan sighed and nodded. A worried look crossed his mother's face. “You hadn't forgotten we are going to visit him tomorrow, had you?” she asked.

Nathan looked down at the floor again in frustration. “No, mum, I hadn't forgotten,” he replied, the exasperation creeping into his voice.

His mother sighed, and Nathan could feel her eyes burrowing into the crown of his head. Almost embarrassed, he glanced back up at her and smiled wearily.

“I'll sort some flowers out at lunchtime,” he assured her.

“Good,” his mother replied, nodding with satisfaction.

Nathan grinned at her. “Unless you do get whisked away somewhere exotic,” he added playfully.

His mother stuck her tongue out at him again, and looked around for something to throw at him. Nathan quickly stepped back into the hall and opened the front door.

“Bye, mum!” he called out again, bounding out of the house and almost slamming the door shut behind him.

“Noisy sod!” his mother muttered to herself with a wry smile, as she turned and headed back into the kitchen to finish the washing up.