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something else.
    â€˜Fuel pump,’ he said. ‘Bit more work needed than a buckled front wheel but not impossible.’
    â€˜It’s not dead?’ Lily asked.
    â€˜Well, the battery’s flat.’ He smiled at her, and the ease he’d shown her daughter, the fun of a jokey moment, shone on Lily. ‘And the vehicle’s definitely geriatric,’ he said, obviously holding in a laugh. ‘But these 80 Series fourbys are reliable. I think it might just have forgotten to take better care of its waterworks.’
    Lily raised an eyebrow.
    â€˜I’m pretty sure it’s likely to be the fuel pump relay,’ he said.
    â€˜Which is fixable.’ Which would cost.
    He nodded. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow and tow it to my place. I’m afraid I left my tow ropes in my workshop.’
    Lily almost got to stammer ‘No’ but her concern must have showed on her face because he spoke again, quickly.
    â€˜I like tinkering with engines. You’d be doing me a favour if you let me have a look at it.’
    He’d be doing Lily the favour, and she knew it. And he knew she knew it. So how did she handle this? Blasé? Defeated? She didn’t do ‘blasé’ and she was used to fighting ‘defeated’, so she tilted her head to one side, as though considering his offer.
    â€˜You normally do your engine tinkering as a job, Nick,’ she said, cautiously gauging his expression as she spoke. ‘For paying customers.’ She didn’t have to elaborate the point that she couldn’t pay him. He knew.
    â€˜Sometimes I slip in the odd gesture. It’s not a big deal.’
    He watched her, and Lily knew he wouldn’t look away until she answered. She hated that car. She needed that car. Her children needed her to have the car.
    She nodded. ‘Thank you. I’d be grateful.’ As if he didn’t know that.
    He pressed his lips together and with a nod of acknowledgement, looked away.
    â€˜Hey!’
    Lily turned at the sound of Andy’s voice.
    â€˜What’s happening?’ he asked, breaking into a run up the driveway.
    â€˜Nick’s going to fix our car,’ Janie-Louise said. ‘And my bike.’
    â€˜Cool.’ Andy’s smile sparkled like a newly minted dollar. ‘Can I help?’ he asked Nick.
    â€˜Of course.’
    â€˜I’m sure Nick won’t want you hanging around,’ Lily told Andy, breaking the bad news with an apologetic smile.
    Sure enough, his features fell.
    â€˜Actually,’ Nick said. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a second pair of hands.’ He walked over to Andy and held his hand out. ‘So thanks. I’d be grateful for the help, Andrew.’
    Andy took Nick’s hand, features back to bright.
    Nick shook her boy’s hand as though Andy were a man. And how did he know to call him Andrew? She could see the guy-stuff going on between them. Pursed mouths and quick nods of understanding as rapport built. Grown-up-man stuff. Her mother’s new husband had always shown respect and a genuine fondness for her children, but he was 50 years older than Andy. Nick was a fit, skilled younger man.
    How well had her children got to know Nick? Why hadn’t she noticed? Because she’d shied away from him. Hadn’t wanted to notice anything about him because she fancied the hell out of him.
    â€˜Stay for pizza,’ Janie-Louise said.
    Lily shot a look at Nick, breath held. Please say no . She felt awkward enough already. Having to make conversation with him over the dinner table scared the hair off her head. ‘Yes, do,’ she said on a smile. A tight smile, but he wouldn’t know that.
    He looked from Janie-Louise to Lily and held her gaze.
    Damn. He did know.
    â€˜Thanks, but I’d better be going.’ He turned for the ute. ‘I’ll come over early tomorrow morning, around six thirty, to tow the car.’ He looked over his shoulder at