Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(42)

To Falk, who was draining his beer, that hadn’t sounded like a bad idea, either. “I’ll come with you.”

Rita had waved to Raco, released the stroller brake, and she and Falk had wandered over together. The toilets were housed in an ugly gray cinder block structure that at least looked clean and well maintained.

“Oh my God, look at that queue,” Rita had said as they approached, and Falk followed her gaze to the line snaking out of the women’s side and around the corner. The entry to the men’s side beckoned, wide open and empty, and Rita rolled her eyes.

“You go ahead,” she’d said to Falk. “If I’m not out before the festival closes, tell my husband to send supplies and—”

“Rita, hey. How are you?”

Rita had turned at the voice. “Rohan! Hi there, how nice to see you.”

The man waiting outside the toilet block was jiggling a stroller with his foot, and in each hand held an ice cream, one almost eaten, the other melting fast. He’d seemed a little stressed but had smiled as they’d gone over.

“Rohan, this is our friend Aaron,” Rita had said, distracted as she’d peered into the stroller where a baby girl was asleep. “Oh, is this Zoe? She is so beautiful. Look at that hair. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. You, too.” Rohan had grinned approvingly at baby Henry. “He’s a fair size, isn’t he?”

“Definitely feels it when I pick him up.” Rita’s smile had fallen away as she glanced at the endless line for the women’s toilets. “Is Kim inside?”

“I’d really hope so, by now.”

“That slow, is it?” Rita had said, nodding at the melting ice cream.

“Yeah.” Rohan’s face had clouded as he scanned the queue. “I mean, it looks to be moving, but—” He’d shrugged. “If you see Kim in there chatting, tell her Zoe and I are about thirty seconds away from eating this ourselves.”

Rita had laughed. “I’ll—” She’d stopped, inhaling sharply as the door to a nearby portable toilet creaked open. An elderly woman with a stick stepped out. On the door that slammed shut behind her was both a wheelchair and a parent-and-baby sticker. There was no one else waiting.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, this is a parental perk I can’t say no to.” Rita had spun the stroller around smartly. “Really lovely to catch you, Rohan. Tell Kim I’ll call her.”

“No worries.” Rohan had raised his wife’s dripping ice cream in farewell.

“I’ll see you back out here!” Rita had shouted over her shoulder to Falk as she’d peeled off, making a beeline for the empty cubicle.

Falk had said goodbye to the man who was now trying to stop melted vanilla trickling onto the stroller and had gone into the men’s toilets.

He’d been at the sinks when he’d heard a familiar voice through the open window. Raco, he’d thought immediately, but no. The pitch was deeper. Charlie.

“Hey,” Charlie was saying. “Before you head off, you said hi to your mum yet?”

“Dad. No—” Zara had sounded frustrated. “I’m supposed to be meeting Sophie right now. They’re all waiting for me.”

“Zara, mate, seriously. Come on, don’t make me do this. Rohan and Zoe are right there. Your mum won’t be far off. At least say hello to your sister.”

“She’s a few weeks old; she really doesn’t care.”

“Your mum will, though.”

“She won’t.”

“Of course she will. They’ve come all this way to see you.”

“Dad,” Zara had snapped. “Jesus, she won’t. Stop trying to force it.”

“Force what?”

“The family thing.”

“We are all family.”

“No, we’re not. Not like that. Whatever you do or don’t do. Why can’t you—”

“Hey. Watch it, thanks. Don’t speak to me like—”

“Okay, fine. Sorry. But you really need to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what. This. About Mum. Look, I’ve got to go. Okay? My friends are waiting for me.”

“Zara—”

“Tell Mum I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

Falk had washed and dried his hands and walked outside. He’d half expected to see Charlie making conversation with Rohan, but neither man was there. The spot where the stroller had been parked was empty, except for a splattering of ice cream drips in the dust. Falk had leaned against the wall and waited, and a minute later Rita came out of the parents’ cubicle.

“All good?” she’d said, and Falk had nodded and together they’d headed back to find Raco and Eva.

In the Racos’ kitchen a year on, Rita was fiddling with her coffee mug.

“And I knew she was upset about Charlie and Zara not being at home that night, and it still didn’t cross my mind to go in and talk to her. Just make that effort. I was so focused on myself and what was easiest—”

“You had a baby to cope with,” Naomi said.

“Yeah, but so did Kim. That’s even worse, because I knew how hard it was, and I still did nothing. And then afterward, you remember how the next day or so someone reported that they’d heard a woman crying in the toilets—”